# A Perfect Match

Deb Kastner

SHE WAS GOIN' TO THE CHAPEL….…and she was going to get married–to the dashing new minister. At least, that was Julia Evans's plan. Convinced holy matrimony should be based on more than romance, Julia was caught off guard when old-fashioned fireworks erupted where she least expected them– and ignited a spark she couldn't seem to ignore….Carpenter Zeke Taylor knew Julia fully intended to become the pastor's wife. But the more time he spent with the angelic blue-eyed blonde, the more Zeke suspected the Lord had other plans for her–for both of them. If only Julia would listen to what her heart–and God–were trying to tell her….

## Zeke’s angel didn’t believe in love? What kind of nonsense was this?

He whirled to Julia. Her golden hair swirled about her like a halo, and his breath caught before he could speak. He forced words through his tight throat. “You’re wrong.”

“Am I?” she asked, sounding genuinely surprised. Or confused.

He wanted to take her into his arms and prove it, but he could hardly act on those feelings. Nor could he leave it quite alone.

He reached out and gently swiped a thumb down her cheek. “You are wrong about love. And if it takes me forever, I’m going to prove it to you.”

## DEB KASTNER

is the wife of a Reformed Episcopal minister, so it was natural for her to find her niche in the Christian/Inspirational romance market. She enjoys tackling the issues of faith and trust within the context of a romance. Her characters range from upbeat and humorous to (her favorite) dark and brooding heroes. Her plots fall anywhere between, from a playful romp to the deeply emotional.

When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her husband and three girls and, whenever she can manage, attending regional dinner theater and touring Broadway musicals.

## A Perfect Match. Deb Kastner

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast.

—Ephesians 2:8-9

A big thank-you to Pam Hopkins for all she’s done for my career. You’re my own “perfect match” for a literary agent. What can I say? You’re the best!

To Melissa, editor extraordinaire.

Thanks for all your hard work and enthusiasm. You encourage me with your kindness.

To the Love Inspired Ladies.

Your love, integrity and work ethic inspire me to new heights.

Love always and forever to Joe, Annie, Kimmie and Katie.

## Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

## Chapter One

“You marry a man, not an occupation.” Lakeisha Wilson made her point, loud and clear.

But it wasn’t as if Julia Evans hadn’t already considered every angle of her Great Scheme. It was simply a matter of helping her dear friend grasp the concept.

“He is a man,” Julia reasoned aloud, though softly. She didn’t want Thomas and Evy Martin, sitting across the round table from them, to overhear the private conversation. Goodness knows she didn’t want her exceptional ideas exposed to the eyes of the whole waiting world.

It was enough that Lakeisha was going to give her a hard time about it. And if her dear friend of twenty-four years didn’t understand, no one would. It was a wretched way to begin.

Smothering a half smile, she coolly shifted her gaze to the subject in question—the Object of her Affection.

Well, not affection, precisely, but be that as it may…

Father Bryan Cummings.

Tall, dark and handsome.

More to the point, ordained to the ministry and headed for a great career in evangelism, maybe even internationally.

He didn’t know it yet, but she’d chosen him for a very special project.

Marriage.

Sunshine glistened off his straight, dark hair, and his smile was perfect and white. Practiced, even.

He’d told her once that image was everything. If he smiled to himself in the mirror to get it just right, no one was the wiser. And Julia would never tell.

Father Bryan was surrounded by a raucous group of young men dressed in everything from khakis and polo shirts to little more than patchy fluorescent swimming trunks and bare feet.

Though he stood on the opposite side of the swimming pool from where Julia sat sipping her iced tea, she could tell he was in the middle of a heated theological discussion with his friends.

In Julia’s experience with him, Bryan didn’t speak about much else besides the tenants of the faith. His idea of polite conversation was debating the merits and nuances of each of the five points of Calvinism. With Scriptural proofs.

That, Julia supposed, was part of the allure. She glanced back to Lakeisha and chuckled at the stunned look on her childhood friend’s face. Lakeisha had obviously followed the direction of Julia’s gaze, and followed her thoughts, as well.

“I take it you don’t approve of my Great Scheme.”

Lakeisha snorted. “That’s the understatement of the year.”

Even as she shook her head disparagingly at Julia, Lakeisha smiled pleasantly at a couple of working associates who’d stopped to say hello. Julia recognized the women as being from the accounting office at HeartBeat, and cheerfully pointed them in the direction of the iced tea and cookies.

As she looked around, she realized nearly every employee of the HeartBeat Crisis Pregnancy Center was here for this Labor Day gathering at the Martins’ home. The sun shone brightly, which, with the fickle Colorado weather, was a blessing in itself.

People crowded around the pool, though no one was swimming. Julia had never quite become accustomed to the city version of a pool party. In the eastern Colorado country town where she was from, a pool party meant everyone went swimming. People brought along their inner tubes and blow-up balls. Old and young alike played water volleyball and Marco Polo.

Here, people came to a pool party to schmooze, not swim. They brought their business cards, not their beach towels. It was a different world.

She leaned back in her chair and smiled. She’d dreamed of this world all her life. A challenging ministry in a fast-paced atmosphere. Those around her were her colleagues in ministry.

Ministry.

The word alone made her shiver in delight. She didn’t know many names of people here, having only been with HeartBeat for a few months, but a lot of the faces were familiar. Many volunteered their time to the center. Others, like Julia, worked full-time for the crisis center.

There was Mr. Movie in his fancy sunglasses, who worked on the camera side of the video department where they developed audiovisual materials for and about the center; Merry Maid, the administrative assistant who always picked up after everyone else in the office. In the far corner was her boss, Sarah Straight-Arrow, the artistic perfectionist, speaking to Little Miss Muffet, a counselor ever on a persistent insect-killing mission at the center. Julia’s toes curled at the very thought of spiders.

Lakeisha probably knew all the names and backgrounds that went with all these faces, instead of the safe but not very effective stereotypes Julia tended to slap on people.

“I’m not finished with you, girlfriend,” Lakeisha said, interrupting her thoughts. “Because I’m not getting the point of your little plan at all.” She waved one hand and slammed the other down on the glass tabletop. “You’ve gone completely out of your mind, girl, and I’m not following.”

“Who’s gone crazy around here?” Thomas Martin asked with a laugh as he turned around to face them.

“Me,” Evy Martin groaned, rubbing a gentle hand over her burgeoning pregnancy. “Or at least I will be crazy, if this kid doesn’t stop using my ribs as monkey bars.”

Julia laughed. “Do you feel him move a lot?”

Evy pointed to one spot on her rib. “This bump right here is his heel. He likes to kick the same spot over and over.”

Julia ran her hand over her own trim abdomen. She couldn’t even imagine how it felt to be kicked from the inside, to have the blessing of a little life inside her.

“It’s a boy?”

Evy shook her head and laughed. “Oh, no. We don’t know yet. We want it to be a surprise. But we decided early on that it or he or she wasn’t working for us. We settled on the generic form of he when we speak about our baby.”

She smiled softly at Evy. Someday, maybe, she’d be ready for a baby of her own. At the moment, she was still working on the marriage part of the equation. And that required the ungender-neutral form of a he.

“Let’s walk,” Thomas suggested, holding out his hand to Evy.

Evy flashed her husband a grateful look, then turned to explain to Julia and Lakeisha. “Sometimes it helps to walk out my cramps. And the rocking motion of walking puts this little fellow to sleep.” She patted her stomach once again.

Thomas hovered over her, leaning into her ear to whisper something that made Evy laugh.

Thomas took such good care of Evy, and there was no doubt she and their baby were the center of his world. Deep down, Julia had to admit to being a little jealous of such a close, loving relationship.

“You’ll never have that kind of commitment if you keep pushing this Great Scheme of yours,” Lakeisha commented wryly, as if reading Julia’s mind.

Julia bristled. “It’s not like I’m picking a name out of a telephone book, or putting my face on a billboard to advertise my dilemma.”

“Oh, no, of course not. Your system is sooo much better. Excuse me, sir. May I see your résumé? You’ve had how much education? Years of experience in ministry?” Lakeisha’s high, squeaky tone suggested her cynicism.

Julia laughed. “It isn’t as coldhearted as all that. I simply feel that I’m ready to move to the next level, you know? I’m twenty-eight years old, and I don’t even feel like a grown-up.”

Lakeisha laughed. “And that’s bad?”

“Depends on your perspective, I guess. Right now, marrying a decent, godly, professional man is a critical part of my impending equation. What in the world is wrong with that?”

As soon as the question was out, Julia regretted asking. It was like inviting a politician to share her views on the economy.

“Impending equation?” Right on cue, her friend grinned like the Cheshire cat and raised her eyebrows so high they were lost underneath her wiry black bangs. “Okay, first of all, what is wrong with this little scenario of yours is that you can’t just choose a man at random—by whatever means—and then expect him to agree to meet you at the altar.”

Lakeisha had a point, Julia acknowledged. But that wasn’t an insurmountable difficulty. She’d simply get to know Bryan a little better. He’d notice her, and…problem solved.

Okay, a lot better. But it could be done. She could show what a great partner in ministry she would be. She’d just do something to get him to notice her, and that would be that. Wouldn’t it?

“You think just because you made a unilateral decision that Bryan meets your marital requirements, that he is going to ask you to marry him?”

“Not right away, of course, but—”

“What about sparks and fireworks, Julia? Don’t you want to fall in love?”

Julia shrugged. Sparks and fireworks were highly overrated commodities, in her mind. She could live without them, and good riddance.

“Look around you, girlfriend. Right here in this backyard. This place is swarming with young, eligible, handsome Christian men. Bulging biceps and bulging portfolios, my dear.”

She gestured toward the jostling group of men surrounding Bryan. “So why settle for Father Bryan? You’ve been working with the man on a regular basis for months, and I’ve never heard you say a single word about being attracted to him, or that something was developing between the two of you.”

“That’s just it, Lakeisha,” Julia argued, wishing she could easily explain what she held deep in her heart. It was crystal clear in her mind, but she knew how shallow and stupid it sounded when she talked about it out loud. “The thing is, I’m not attracted to Father Bryan. At least not in the way you mean.”

“Then why in the world would you…?”

“Marry him? Because he’s a man with a future. Bryan knows exactly where he’s going and how he’s going to get there.”

Lakeisha took a deep swig of her iced tea before answering. “Charisma? Under normal circumstances, I would expect you to be telling me how handsome he is. How kind and generous. How he makes your heart flip over when he looks at you.”

“What, and major on the trivial?”

“Trivial?” Lakeisha gave her a long, pointed look, then shook her head as if conceding. Or more accurately, giving up on her hopeless roommate.

“I’m not like you, Lakeisha,” Julia said softly, a catch in her voice. “I’m not a romantic. I just want stability, security and ministry.”

“Hogwash!” Lakeisha exclaimed. “Not a romantic? What if there’s someone special out there you’ve yet to meet, someone God made just for you? What if you’re too busy with your own plans to see God’s plan?”

Julia raised an eyebrow. “Oh, right. Mr. Perfect, stamped Made for Julia Marie Evans. Bring him on, Lakeisha.”

“Well…” Lakeisha paused just as a large shadow passed over them. Seeing the source of the shadow, she grinned impishly. “How about Zeke Taylor?”

“Paul Bunyan?” Julia spouted a laugh that she quickly covered with her palm. “I always picture that man in the company of a big, snorting blue ox.”

“Julia!”

“Well, I do.”

Zeke Taylor was a local carpenter who volunteered his time to the shelter. Well over six feet tall, he was blond, bearded and always wore flannel shirts and steel-toed boots. A lumberjack wasn’t such a big stretch.

“Zeke!” Lakeisha called, to Julia’s immediate distress.

The big man turned and strode back to where they sat, then crouched beside them with a smile. Julia had to admit he had the biggest, bluest eyes she’d ever seen.

His kind, friendly gaze looked directly at her, and she felt as if he were really seeing her, not merely giving her a polite perusal. She swallowed dryly and struggled to erase the imprint of his smile in her mind.

“What can I do for you ladies?” His voice was the low, rich bass she expected it to be. Julia had the uncomfortable notion the question was directed at her. He was looking at her, even though Lakeisha had been the one to call him over.

“Julia and I have just been discussing true love,” Lakeisha began, despite Julia’s stricken look in her direction. “We were wondering your opinion on the topic.”

Zeke laughed, and she was struck again by how genuinely friendly he appeared. “That’s an awfully big topic.”

Julia just barely restrained herself from saying that he was an awfully big man. But Lakeisha clearly captured her train of thought, and they shared an amused, meaning-filled glance.

“Let me narrow it down for you,” Julia said, deciding it was better to take the bull by the horns, so to speak, than to sit there and let Lakeisha dictate the conversation. “Do you believe there is a Mr. Right?”

Zeke slapped his palm against his broad chest. “For me, I’d have to say no.”

Lakeisha roared with laughter, and didn’t stop even when Julia pinned her with a glare.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Zeke nodded, his amused glance sliding over Lakeisha and landing squarely on Julia. “I didn’t believe it was. I was just joshing you.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh.”

He cleared his throat. “I know I sometimes come off gruff, because of my size….” He ground to ahalt, and then continued tentatively. “People often mistake my meaning. My humor is a little cockeyed at times.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” reminded Lakeisha, who was obviously having difficulty composing her features. “Do you believe God has one special someone out there for you?”

“One special woman,” Zeke said slowly, catching Julia’s gaze with his own. “‘This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh….’ She’s out there, Lord willing.” His voice got lower and richer with every word he spoke.

“Waiting for you?” Julia queried softly.

Zeke shook his head. “No. Not waiting for me.” He ran a hand over his beard and smiled. “Working. Serving the Lord wherever she’s at.”

Julia tried to swallow and couldn’t. Why did that sound so romantic?

“You’ll excuse me,” she said, her words tumbling one over another. “I need to go ask Father Bryan about something.”

It was true—she did need to speak to Bryan about the upcoming ad campaign at HeartBeat. So why did her words feel so much like a lie?

She hurried away from Zeke and Lakeisha as fast as she could without looking rude, glancing back only once to see Zeke following her progress with his gaze.

Flustered, she spoke to everyone she passed, trying to make up for what felt like rudeness by being extra kind to everyone she met.

When she reached Father Bryan, she laid an arm on his shoulder to get his attention, and then waited quietly while he finished his conversation with his seminary buddies.

She didn’t understand half the words they were saying, and wondered if, as a pastor’s wife, she’d have to get a seminary education herself, just to communicate with her husband.

Husband.

She glanced up at Bryan, picturing them together in her mind. Helping others, like the desperate, pregnant mothers who came into HeartBeat. Like the people in his congregation, wherever God led. Who knew what else they could accomplish?

She waited, but there was nothing. Not a single emotion.

But marriage wasn’t about emotion. Weddings might be, but she’d seen firsthand how quickly those feelings faded. Wasn’t her way better?

“Julia?” Bryan looked a little put out, and she wondered if he’d tried more than once to get a hold of her wandering attention.

“I’m sorry. I was wool-gathering.”

“Not a problem. I should be the one apologizing for making you wait.” He flashed her a toothy grin.

Julia wondered if that was what his true smile looked like.

“I just wanted to chat with you about the new ad campaign,” Julia began, though Bryan’s attention, or at least his gaze, was wandering elsewhere. “If now is a bad time…”

“Not at all.” His gaze returned to her, and he smiled squarely. “I’ve assembled some Scripture passages we can use on the brochures, but I’m still working up something for the full-page magazine ad.”

“That’s fine, but we need a mock-up of the ad by Thursday noon at the latest.”

His gaze shifted to somewhere over her left shoulder. “I’ve got class Wednesday, but I’ll try to fit it in on Tues— What is that?”

“What is what?” Disheartened by her failure to attain Bryan’s attention, never mind his interest, Julia spun around to see where he was looking.

It didn’t take long to find the source of his surprise. A dirty brown-and-white Jack Russell terrier had somehow gotten through the high fence surrounding the backyard. She knew the Martins didn’t own any animals because of their traveling, ministry lifestyle.

At first it was amusing, watching the guests’ varied reactions to the filthy animal, but it was another thing entirely to discover the poor thing was limping, favoring its left back foot. Julia wondered uneasily if a car might have hit him.

With a spontaneous spurt of sympathy, she decided she should take care of the dog herself, especially since no one else appeared to be moving.

She turned to let Bryan know she was leaving, but his attention was elsewhere. He burst into laughter.

“Well, I’ll be doggoned,” he said, shaking his head. “Literally. What a crazy mutt.”

She whirled around. To her surprise, the Jack Russell somehow launched himself into the middle of the swimming pool.

“What a joke,” Bryan said from behind her.

A joke?

Maybe, under normal circumstances. But within seconds, it was clear the dog could not swim, perhaps because of his broken leg.

He flipped over once in the middle of the pool, not making as much of a splash as Julia would have expected. And then, in a single, heart-wrenching moment, the dog’s head popped under the waves and disappeared. He sank as if he were a rock.

Panic freezing her to the spot, she croaked Bryan’s name.

But it wasn’t Bryan who came running to the poor little dog’s rescue.

It was big, burly Zeke Taylor.

In a second, he was in the pool, pulling the dog to the surface and into his arms. He hadn’t waited even to remove his steel-toed boots. He’d simply reacted.

And saved the irascible puppy, who was wagging his tail in Zeke’s arms despite being wet and wounded.

Bryan was still laughing at the sight, which raised Julia’s hackles. She guessed it was funny, from one perspective, but she could have no reaction except one—blatant and sheerly feminine admiration for Zeke Taylor.

A true hero at work.

## Chapter Two

Glancing at the sky, Zeke stopped pounding nails into a two-by-four wood frame and slipped his hammer into his belt. He swiped in a deep breath of sawdust-filled air, pulled a crumpled red bandanna from the back pocket of his faded blue jeans and mopped the sweat off his forehead and the back of his neck.

It was a brisk morning, typical of Colorado in the early fall, but the cool breeze didn’t do much for Zeke. He was pushing himself harder than usual, and every muscle in his body was groaning in protest.

He’d been working extra time at HeartBeat lately, and consequently was behind on this project. He was quietly determined to catch up, maybe get ahead, to make up for the time he spent in volunteer work.

There was so much need in the world, and so little hours in the day. He was compelled to do as much as he could for the pregnant women who came to HeartBeat for care and assistance. He only hoped it was enough.

It could never be enough.

Zeke blew out a frustrated breath and picked up his hammer, hoping to find solace in pounding nails. The familiar sound and feel of working with wood had often given him an odd sort of comfort in the past.

Lately, though, it seemed he was more inclined to concentrate on something far more pleasant than building with his hands. The silver-toned laugh of a certain blond-haired, green-eyed angel.

Julia Evans.

No matter how hard he tried, she was never far from his mind. He mulled over her every word, reconsidered every look and smile.

It wasn’t just that he was attracted to her beauty, though he certainly was. But Julia was different from the other women he knew. She seemed to know just what to do to make a hurting soul smile. She stood up to fight when everyone else was sitting down. She had strength of heart that surprised him, yet a quiet sense of vulnerability that made him long to protect her.

Which was ridiculous. He hardly knew her.

No. that wasn’t right. He knew her.

She didn’t know him.

He pounded five nails out quickly, slamming them neatly into a perfect row. The pressure of finishing the project on time only helped his strength, without marring his accuracy.

Even without this unusual, intense emotional current rushing through him, Zeke could pound nails with his hammer faster than a man with a nail gun.

More accurately, too, he thought, though he’d never tested his theory.

A grin tugged at his lips as, once again, Julia’s face drifted into his thoughts. He ought to ask her out and get it over with, he thought. Once she’d turned him down, maybe he could get on with life.

And she would turn him down. Ironically, that was one of the many things he admired most about her—her devotion to the center at whatever cost to her personal life. She must have men clamoring to take her out, yet she worked days and many evenings, not to mention weekends, helping shelter women personally, in addition to being in charge of the center’s advertising.

But even if her evenings were free, Zeke doubted Julia would take an interest in him. He was Beast to her Beauty.

Still, stranger things had happened.

At least he got to see her almost every evening at the center. Not that Julia was the reason he volunteered there, he thought, a surge of electricity running through him. He put his time in to serve God and the people of the HeartBeat Center, helping people like his sister, who’d found themselves at a rough crossing.

He prayed that was the truth.

But now he wondered if his motivation for helping out at the clinic had become because Julia Evans was there.

Was it true?

She’d only just spoken to him for the first time yesterday at the pool party, and even then it was because of her friend Lakeisha. And yet he had to admit that the desire to see her again tonight ranked right up there with the desire to do good works.

His thoughts tearing him up, he worked frantically, until suddenly he heard her voice.

“Zeke? Zeke Taylor?”

Now he was hallucinating. Next he’d be put in a straitjacket. He whistled a birdsong and imagined stars floating over his head.

“Hello! May I come down there?”

Zeke turned around to see none other than the true-to-the-flesh Julia Evans slip-sliding her way down a steep, gravel-covered driveway and onto the job site. Her arms flapped wildly as she struggled to maintain her precarious balance.

She wasn’t dressed for visiting a construction job site. For one thing, she was wearing a dress. A pretty, soft, flowery-looking thing that Zeke thought might disintegrate underneath the touch of his rough fingertips. It was a dress that could easily be torn to shreds in a work area full of protruding nails and rough lumber.

And then there were her shoes. High heels from the looks of them, and they were sinking into the gravel with every step she took.

Feeling like a bumbling giant, he lumbered to her side and offered his arm for assistance.

Her eyes widened to enormous proportions as she laid her hand upon his forearm and allowed his other arm to encircle her tiny waist, and Zeke wished for the millionth time that he wasn’t so big.

Sure, men admired his strength, but to a delicate young woman like Julia, he knew he must come off looking and moving like a big, dumb ox.

For Julia’s part, her lungs had simply refused to work from the moment Zeke jogged to her side to the time she stood safely at the bottom of the hill. He was so athletic, his muscles and ligaments working in perfect harmony. His autumn-blond hair shone like a gold halo over his expressive blue eyes.

She wished she could enjoy the picture, but she had other problems, like being about to plunge head-down on the gravel driveway. Her shoes were the worst possible choice.

Warmth flooded to her cheeks. She was mortified. She hadn’t given her attire a single thought when she came here, to this dirty, rocky job site.

What must Zeke think of her? He was all kindness. But honestly, what kind of an idiot wore patent leather pumps to a construction site?

Even Zeke had a hard hat on.

As if seeing the direction of her gaze, Zeke moved to a trunk and picked up an extra hard hat. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to—” he cleared his throat “—to ask you to wear one of these guys for the length of your visit. It’s for your own safety, as well as our regulations.”

He tacked the last part on so swiftly Julia barely understood the words.

She thought she saw Zeke cringe slightly, as if anticipating her answer. No doubt he thought, based on the little he knew of her, that she’d criticize or whine at having to meet with safety requirements that were nothing less than good, common sense.

Well, she’d do neither, she thought, reaching for the hat with her best smile.

Even though she knew she’d look ridiculous. Even though the hat was two sizes too big.

Zeke jammed his hands into his front jeans pockets and raised his eyebrows. His huge blue eyes were gleaming with mischief, and she was certain she detected the corner of his mouth twitching under his beard.

Her dander rose quickly, and just as quickly departed. What could she say, when he was right? “Feel free to laugh out loud,” she said wryly, and with a smile.

A bubble of deep, hearty laughter burst from his lips, though he looked like he was struggling desperately to restrain it.

“Sorry,” he apologized when he could speak. He wiped his eyes with his thumb. “It’s just that you’re by far the cutest carpenter I’ve ever seen on a job site, this or any other.”

“Thank you very much.” She curtsied slightly, turning her head to conceal the blush she knew clouded her cheeks. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was meant that way.” His voice was deep and husky, and Julia looked away.

There was an extended silence while Zeke collected his mirth and Julia collected her thoughts.

“Did you come here about HeartBeat?” he asked quietly, leaning a shoulder against the wood framework he’d earlier been pounding upon.

“No. Not directly, anyway.” Julia’s chest tightened around her breath as she quickly gathered her thoughts and gained her courage.

Yesterday, at the pool party, Zeke had left as soon as he’d pulled the dog from the pool. She’d never had the chance to thank him, or to help take care of that poor little dog.

“Actually, I’d like to find out what happened to that little Jack Russell terrier you rescued. Is he okay?”

“Tip? Yeah, she’s fine.” He cocked his head and stood silently for a moment, taking in her mettle. “You really care?”

“I think I’ve proved my worth with my pumps, don’t you?”

He looked puzzled, and she explained with a laugh. “My high heels.”

He grinned. “You have a point.”

“How do you know her name is Tip?” she asked, self-consciously fiddling with her hard hat.

“Because I named her. Would you like to see her for yourself?”

“The puppy is here?” Julia asked in astonishment. “At the construction site?”

He nodded. “I didn’t want to leave her home alone all day. Especially while she’s healing from her wounds.”

Julia’s heart fell. “Oh, my. She’s badly hurt, then? Is there anything I can do?”

Zeke smiled gently and shook his head. Offering his hand, he led her toward a gentler incline than the one she’d come down. “Tip will be okay, give or take a few weeks. No permanent damage.”

He grinned down at her, and her racing heart stopped still. “Her leg is broken. And I think there’s a screw loose in that brain of hers, jumping into the pool the way she did.”

“Oh, no,” Julia objected, wondering at the squeak in her voice, and hoping Zeke could not hear it. “I’m sure she must have thought she knew how to swim.”

Zeke chuckled loudly. “Yeah. Thought being the key word.”

She met his gleaming eyes, and they laughed.

“Seriously, though,” Zeke continued, swinging Julia’s hand as they walked, “Tip is going to be just fine. Nothing a little good, old-fashioned R and R can’t fix.”

One step at a time, he led her back up the gravel to where his full-size blue truck was parked. In the bed of his truck, tucked securely into a torn box and curled up on an old scrap of blanket, was Tip.

Zeke picked her up, and she immediately wagged her tail and began licking his chin enthusiastically.

“You can sure tell who Tip likes,” Julia teased. “It didn’t take long for the two of you to form an attachment.”

Color crept up Zeke’s cheek above his beard, and Julia smiled in delight. There was nothing made up about Zeke Taylor. He was all man, the genuine article.

“I made a report to the Humane Society, but if no one claims her, she’s mine,” Zeke explained tenderly. As he spoke, he stroked the dog’s fur, almost mechanically. Julia marveled at how gentle Zeke’s big hands appeared against the small dog.

“So she’ll recover completely?” Julia reached forward to stroke the dog’s wiry coat. Tip had had a recent bath, she noticed. No more dirt spots were clinging to her, and the white part of her coat was fresh and sparkling in the sunshine.

“Completely,” Zeke agreed. “And she has a home. I figure she can keep me company, and I can keep her away from large bodies of water.”

Julia smothered a laugh. “I’m glad she has a good home, now,” she said softly. “I hope I’m not over-stepping my boundaries, but if it’s okay with you, I’d like to buy a few things for Tip.” She paused and caught his gaze. “Sort of a homecoming present for her.”

“Things?”

“Bowls for food and water. A collar and leash. A couple of squeaky toys. Dog bones. And a big bag of puppy kibble, of course. Things,” she concluded, feeling suddenly foolish for coming out to the site at all.

Zeke had things well in hand, and he clearly didn’t need her interference. Of course, he’d made her feel more than welcome, but it was obvious she wasn’t needed here.

She hadn’t even been sure she could find Tip again, thinking Zeke would most likely drop her off at the Humane Society.

She was thrilled to know Zeke would be keeping her. Tip was a lucky puppy. And buying things for Zeke’s new housemate would not only be fun, but a kind of catharsis, a way of doing something now for Tip, when Julia’s own inertia had kept her from helping yesterday at the pool.

The longer Julia’s list had grown the wider Zeke’s gaze grew, and now he was staring at her outright.

“What?” Julia asked, wondering if he was going to call her an idiot. She would call herself an idiot. What a dumb thing to suggest. At the least, she probably should have called first and asked if he needed anything for Tip, and if he didn’t mind her stopping by the site.

But there she was, the typical Julia, always going off half-cocked, trying to help when she was really just getting in the way, even if everyone was too polite to say so.

Perhaps she’d learn her lesson this time.

“You are a godsend,” Zeke said, carefully replacing Tip in her box with one last gentle rub.

Julia felt like someone had brushed a finger down her spine. Adrenaline coursed through her. “What?”

He turned to her, leaning his muscular arm against the side of his truck. His eyes gleamed with a combination of appreciation and genuine male admiration that made Julia’s stomach swirl with unusual and unnamable emotions.

Zeke continued, his voice low and resolute. “Unfortunately, I barely made it to the vet’s last afternoon, and then Tip needed looking after. I haven’t purchased anything for her. I’ve been feeding her from one of my cereal bowls with the sample food the vet gave me.”

“You don’t have anything for her?” she repeated numbly.

“Anything. Or is that nothing?” He smiled wide and belted a strong laugh. “So you see, Julia, you’re an answer to prayer today. For Tip. And for me. You’re a blessing disguised as an angel.”

This time, it was Julia’s turn to blush.

## Chapter Three

As the Colorado Indian summer faded crisply into late fall, Julia found her mind often on Zeke. His unconventional good looks were part of it, to be sure, but that didn’t explain why she now anticipated his presence at HeartBeat, or why their frequent conversations lingered in her mind long after the lights were turned out and the doors safely locked.

On this overcast Tuesday evening she was hauling charitable baby gifts she’d volunteered to pick up at various community bins, located inside grocery stores and department stores.

During her commute from store to store, her mind often shifted to her budding friendship with Zeke. She was surprised to find they had a lot in common, not so much in hobbies or background as in values, interests and viewpoints.

She realized with a start that she should be thinking about Bryan Cummings, about her future. About stability and security.

It was just as well, pushing Zeke from her conscious thoughts. At least thinking about Bryan didn’t confuse her, or make her feel all these new, foolish sensations Zeke aroused in her.

Happy and sad.

Threatened and safe.

Give her a stronghold of security any day of the week. Father Bryan Cummings was safety. She would do well to remember that, she reminded herself severely as she got in her car. She had a plan to carry out.

She pulled her car into the Grace Church parking lot. Grace Church had opened its doors to the struggling ministry, given the small, dedicated staff of HeartBeat a place to assemble, and main offices where they could conduct the nonprofit business of benevolence without having to pay a high rent for the space.

The pregnant women who came for help often needed shelter. HeartBeat owned and maintained three houses in the neighborhood, where women in need were encouraged to stay and prepare for their little blessings to arrive.

After their babies were born, they often stayed around until they’d arranged, with HeartBeat’s help, new lives of their own.

Julia’s heart welled when she thought of the brave women who sought help here. It took courage to admit they needed help, and wisdom to fight their way through to new lives.

Julia opened the trunk and surveyed with pleasure the hodgepodge of gifts—pink, blue, green and yellow baby blankets; fuzzy-footed sleepers; bottles and big cans of formula. The back seat of her car was full to overflowing with diapers, which was a good thing. If there was one thing HeartBeat could never have enough of, it was diapers.

It was a remarkable baby shower, there in her trunk, and that’s exactly what it was meant to be.

“Hey, girl, what took you so long?” Lakeisha’s sudden speech nearly jolted Julia out of her shoes.

Placing a palm over her chest to still her racing heart, Julia whirled on her friend. “Do you mind not sneaking up on me that way? You nearly scared the wits out of me.”

Lakeisha laughed and waved her hand as if brushing away the comment. “You don’t have any wits to scare out of you.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” growled Julia affectionately. “Did you come out here to give me a hard time, or to help me with these packages?”

Lakeisha’s black eyes grew wide. “Well, I’m not carrying all this stuff inside, if that’s what you mean.”

“That’s exactly what I mean, and you know it. Come on, hon, it’s not any worse than carrying groceries up to our apartment.”

Lakeisha grinned, her eyes gleaming. “True. But at our apartment, we don’t have a smorgasbord of handsome men to choose from. Men willing and able to carry these meager boxes in for us poor damsels in distress.”

Julia hoisted a box from the trunk. “Lakeisha, you are too much.”

“Put the box down,” Lakeisha suggested. “I’ll run and get that mighty conqueror of baby boxes, just to prove it to you.”

“Make it Father Bryan,” Julia suggested, giving in to the inevitable. She might as well get something out of this charade.

Lakeisha snorted. “Like Father Bryan would condescend to carrying boxes.”

Julia shrugged. She was probably right. “I wish you weren’t so dead set against Father Bryan.”

“It’s not that I don’t approve of Bryan, exactly,” Lakeisha explained. “I just don’t think he’s the right man for you.”

“He is,” Julia muttered, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Don’t worry,” Lakeisha assured after an extended silence. Her voice was unusually bright and cheerful. Clearly feigned. It was an open disagreement between them. “I’ll bring back the best man for the job,” she assured. “And if he’s good looking, so much the better, huh? It’ll only take a minute.”

Julia sighed and slumped against the back bumper. It would take more than a minute to find the best man for the job. Such a man as Lakeisha painted with her words didn’t exist. Not in this world, anyway.

It was a busy night in the HeartBeat office as groups of volunteers worked on mailings. The church’s new janitor was even mopping his way around the compound. And Zeke was right in the middle of it, making wood frames for signs, his hammer swinging as fast as his thoughts.

But his busy hands couldn’t take away the excruciating stillness of his heart. He’d seen everyone but Julia, and he was dismayed to find how very much it mattered to him that she wasn’t there.

Fortunately, at that moment, Lakeisha came bursting in the door, her brown cheeks flushed pink from the crisp air, and breathing as if she’d been running.

Her gaze made a quick sweep around the room before settling solidly on Zeke. She lifted one eyebrow, as if asking a question.

He didn’t know the answer, so he shrugged.

Apparently, that was the answer she was looking for, because she grinned like a cat and beelined for him as if he were the proverbial mouse. With the gleam in her eye, he thought he just might be. He slung his hammer into his belt and accepted her friendly hug.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Lakeisha burst out excitedly. “You’re just the right man.”

Zeke frowned, furrowing his eyebrows low over his eyes. “Thank you.” He paused and grinned thoughtfully. “I think.”

“It’s a compliment,” Lakeisha assured him. “Where’s your coat?”

“Are we going somewhere?”

“Just outside. Julia needs your help.”

His heart jump-started with a vengeance, and his scowl deepened. He was elated, but he didn’t want Lakeisha to pick up on that.

“At your service, ma’am,” he said, shrugging into his lined jean jacket. With a grim half smile, he gestured Lakeisha out the door ahead of him.

Zeke spotted Julia’s car immediately, parked just out the door, pulled in backward with the trunk open. Julia leaned negligently against the rear bumper, her arms crossed in front of her. Her black jeans and pink sweatshirt only served to make her cheeks look flushed and beautiful, even in the muted light of the parking lot.

Her eyes widened noticeably when she saw him. He grinned, wondering if that was good or bad.

“See, I told you,” Lakeisha crowed from behind him.

Julia glared at her over his shoulder. Lakeisha just laughed.

“Told her what?” he asked, wondering if he really wanted to know. Clearly, whatever they’d been discussing involved him, either directly or indirectly.

“It was nothing,” Julia muttered immediately.

Again, Lakeisha chuckled.

“What can I do for you ladies?” he asked, changing the subject, hoping to quell the internal power struggle going on between the roommates. It was friendly tension, but tension none the less.

He swiftly decided he really didn’t want to know the cause.

“I was going to haul these boxes of baby things into the church so I can wrap them up for distribution,” Julia explained, gesturing toward her trunk. “Lakeisha, however, thought we needed a man’s help. Scarlett O’Hara and all that.”

Comprehension unfolded around him in waves, and he smothered a grin. “If we all go in together, I’ll bet we can get this stuff in one trip,” he suggested quietly, careful not to look at Julia, lest she see the gleam of amusement in his eye.

Julia didn’t let him off the hook that easily. She took his arm and pulled him around to meet her gaze. She studied him carefully, and Zeke put all his energies into counseling his features and swallowing the huge lump in his throat that formed when he stared into her beautiful eyes.

He was about to break away when suddenly she smiled. Zeke’s heart stopped cold.

“Where’d you get this stuff?” he asked, ignoring his scratchy throat.

Taking refuge in activity, he loaded Lakeisha’s arms with boxes, then turned to do the same with Julia. He was careful not to overload them—he could easily get the bulk of the boxes himself.

He didn’t want to insult Julia in the process, so he made sure he gave her a decent armful.

“These are all from local community bins,” Julia said over her shoulder as she moved toward the door.

Zeke was impressed by the quality and quantity of items the community gave.

He followed the women into the church and down a long hallway, into a vacant Sunday school room. From the look of the pictures on the wall, he thought it might be a younger grade. Lots of bright colors, depicting major Bible characters with round, smiling faces and rosy pink cheeks.

“What are you going to do with this stuff now?” he asked, dumping the load in his arms into one corner.

“We’re going to wrap all these gifts up in pretty baby-shower paper,” Lakeisha said brightly, a cunning gleam in her friendly black eyes. “I don’t suppose you transport and gift wrap?”

Zeke chuckled loudly, as much at the way Julia cringed as by the question itself. “I think I may surprise you.”

Lakeisha took him up on his boast. “This I’ve got to see.” She immediately began digging around in the Sunday school cubby for scissors and tape.

With an audible sigh, Julia moved to one of the boxes and pulled out the gift wrap. “You did this to yourself,” she reminded him, handing him a tube of baby-blue paper covered with big, fluffy white clouds and brown cows jumping over orange crescent moons.

Lakeisha placed the scissors and tape on the table, then retrieved a baby monitor in a rectangular box and set it before him.

“You’re not even going to challenge me?” he asked, with a wink at Julia. “How can I prove real men gift wrap if all you give me is a box?”

Julia laughed, the high, bell-toned chime like the ones that filled Zeke’s dreams. “Here. Try this one.” She shoved a stuffed monkey into his arms. It was brown and tan and held a half-peeled banana in one hand. “No more straight edges and square corners for you to deal with. But don’t squeeze the banana.”

Zeke, of course, squeezed the banana.

The monkey let out a screech worthy of its real-life jungle counterpart, and Zeke laughed. “That’s more like it. Now watch, ladies, and learn at the hands of a master.”

Lakeisha and Julia burst into laughter, and he waggled his eyebrows.

Without another word, he measured, cut, folded and taped with the accuracy of years of carpentry and the dedication of his loving mother’s early training.

The women watched, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. He struggled not to grin. It served them right. And he had to admit he liked this, being the center of female attention, most particularly Julia’s.

“I beg your pardon, Zeke,” Lakeisha said as he finished. “I have misjudged your talent and ability with gift wrap.”

He held up his big hands. “It’s an easy mistake to make.”

“I wasn’t talking about your hands,” Lakeisha admitted.

“The hands of an artist,” Julia acknowledged softly, and Zeke stood a good two inches taller.

“You know,” Julia continued, “you’re just the sort of person I need for my planning committee. The special dinner is coming up, you know. Would you consider it?”

Zeke swallowed hard. He tried to force clumsy words through his dry throat, but nothing would come.

“You really should,” Lakeisha encouraged. “I certainly underestimated your…”

“Artistic skills?” he provided hoarsely.

“Gender,” Julia said with a laugh. “Don’t ask.”

“My gender,” Zeke repeated dumbly.

“You’re a guy,” Julia explained, rolling her eyes at her roommate and friend. “You know—all bulk, no brains.”

Zeke backed up a step and put a dramatic hand to his chest. “I’m wounded. Mortally wounded.”

Julia laughed. “Well, don’t take it too hard. Maybe Lakeisha has learned her lesson. Women can tote boxes. Men can wrap presents. There is no happily ever after.”

Julia’s words shocked Zeke far more than Lakeisha’s insinuations ever had. “What’s this? No happily ever after?”

“Julia insists that Prince Charming lives only in storybooks,” Lakeisha explained lightly, though the look she gave Julia was anything but light. “No white steeds, no shiny armor. Nothing.”

“She’s wrong,” Zeke responded without thinking. His angel didn’t believe in love? What kind of nonsense was this?

He whirled to her. Her golden hair swirled about her like a halo, and his breath caught before he could speak. He forced words through his tight throat. “You’re wrong.”

“Am I?” she asked, sounding genuinely surprised. Or confused.

He wanted to take her into his arms and prove it, but he could hardly act on those feelings. Nor could he leave it quite alone.

He reached out and gently swiped a thumb down her cheek. “You are wrong about love. And if it takes me forever, I’m going to prove it to you.”

## Chapter Four

“What do you think, girl?” Zeke asked the dog wryly as he scrubbed a hand over her soft muzzle. “Am I a fool for hoping?”

Tip merely nuzzled into his hand, bumping his palm with her nose to indicate that, in her opinion, he wasn’t done scratching yet.

Zeke laughed and continued petting her with one hand, and squeezing the steering wheel with his other as he maneuvered his truck down the highway.

He was feeling introspective today. He had more free time on Saturday. Without work to keep his mind occupied, it was easy to get caught up wrestling with his thoughts. Having Tip with him helped him to not get bogged down thinking.

The more time he spent with Julia, the more he lost his focus. When she was around, there wasn’t room for anything else in his mind and heart.

If he was completely honest, he’d admit he was terrified out of his wits at what he was feeling. She made him feel such a hodgepodge of emotions he wanted to run away when he saw her, yet he was drawn to her with all his heart, every fiber of his being.

Was God in this?

That was the question that beleaguered him now. That, and the fact he just couldn’t shake the feeling Julia needed him somehow.

For one thing, she didn’t believe in happy endings.

He desperately wanted to know why, what had jaded her. He knew beyond a doubt she was a Christian, and had a personal relationship with Christ. That story ended well, didn’t it? And if it worked for the Creator, why not for His creations?

He flipped his blinker and moved his truck off the highway. He didn’t know what he could do for Julia, or what God would have him do for her. He cared for her, but he was hardly in a position to offer her any type of assistance or comfort.

He was determined. She’d done something for him no one else had ever done.

She’d looked past the carpenter and saw a man beneath. Hey—maybe that was the answer.

She’d asked him to sit on the planning committee for the quarterly special dinner the staff and volunteers at HeartBeat put on for the women currently in their care.

No one had ever asked him to sit on any kind of committee before.

He was the man people called to get the job done, not design the plan. He’d served a year’s worth of dinners for HeartBeat, filling in whenever he was needed and doing whatever needed doing.

He hadn’t been sure what to do with Julia’s invitation. He’d been surprised, and honored. He turned his truck back onto the highway, in the direction of Julia’s apartment. He knew where she lived. He’d made it his business to know, even if it was none of his business, technically speaking.

God help and bless him. His decision was made.

“Come on, Tip. Let’s go see Julia.”

“There are bound to be some dry times in a Christian’s life,” Julia muttered to herself, closing her Bible with an audible thump.

Maybe it was just that she was reading through the minor prophets.

Maybe it was just that she was distracted.

Zeke the Carpenter and Tip the Wonder Dog. Lakeisha pushing her to drop her Great Scheme and concentrate on true love, whatever that was.

And in the meantime, God felt far away, as if an invisible barrier had been erected between heaven and earth, leaving her all alone.

Julia remembered with longing the times when she just couldn’t read enough of the Bible. Now it seemed she had to struggle through each paragraph, fight to understand each word.

“Lord, what am I doing wrong?” she whispered in misery.

Julia walked outside onto the small balcony and leaned as far as she could into the redwood railing to see around the corner of the building and get a glimpse of the rising sun. The wood under her hands had eroded from the elements and she had to be careful for splinters, but it was worth the discomfort to feel the heat of the sun on her face.

Besides, it had been her habit since childhood to watch the sun rise. She breathed deeply, letting all her stress go for that one moment. The warmth on her face was like an instant connection with the Son, a reminder that in His arms was true warmth.

It was her favorite time of the morning, where the world was still fresh and clean, not marred by the contents of the day. As always, she wondered what this day would bring. Only God knew.

Lakeisha was a late sleeper, so early morning was Julia’s special time with the Lord. It was a good thing she had this time alone, because she sometimes talked aloud when she prayed.

Like this morning.

“I’m not doing enough, am I?” she asked, looking up at the cloudy sky as if waiting for an audible answer, though of course she knew better than that. Oh, that life was so easy.

As she looked back down at her worn burgundy leather Bible, she traced the gold lettering that graced the front. As much as she’d like her answers face-to-face, she settled for knowing she could take Bible 101 when she got to heaven and have all her questions answered to her satisfaction.

The telephone rang, and she raced to the kitchen to grab the phone off the wall. She juggled and then dropped the receiver in her haste to answer before the ring disturbed Lakeisha.

Swiping up the receiver from where it dangled near her feet, she cleared her throat and muttered a greeting.

“Julia.”

Once again, the receiver hit the floor, this time sliding right out of her limp hands.

She stared down at the swinging handset, praying desperately this situation would simply go away, for on the other end of the line was the one man’s voice she never wanted to hear again. Not ever.

So help her God.

“Julia, it’s Daddy.”

Julia cringed, inwardly and outwardly, as her stomach flipped over and hurled itself around like a carnival ride.

He still had the nerve to call himself Daddy, after all this time. Shaking, she pulled the receiver close, pressing it hard against her ear. She could hear the sound of her father’s rapid breathing on the other end of the line and knew it matched her own.

He cleared his throat. “I’m in Denver.”

Silence crackled on the line, and Julia knew he was waiting for a response.

She had none to give. Her father was in Denver? It was too much to fathom.

“Why?” Her question was low and guttural.

“I’ve been thinking about you. How have you been?”

Julia opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her mind swam with thick gray rage until she thought her head might burst. She couldn’t talk to him. There were no words to express what she felt.

“Like you care.” That was a start.

“You know I do,” her father replied, his voice hoarse and cracking with emotion.

Julia shuddered. She didn’t want to hear this. Not a word of it. This man had no right to call himself her father. She swallowed hard as she bit back tears.

“Can we meet somewhere for coffee? Please? I just need to see you again. See with my own eyes that you’re doing okay.”

“No.” No way. Knowing bitterness had crept into her tone, she gripped her fingernails into her fist until the sting of her pinched flesh replaced the sting of her heart.

“No? Just no? That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“I can’t accept that, Julia. I came to Denver so we could—”

“We aren’t going to do anything. Do you understand that?”

“I understand,” her father said quietly. “But I can’t accept it.”

“That’s my final answer. You’re going to have to accept it. I’m too old to need a father watching over me. Don’t try to come into my life now. It’s too late for that. Just go on your merry way and stay out of my life.”

Quietly, shakily, she replaced the receiver on the phone, finding comfort in its audible click. Taking deep breaths, she consciously shoved the painful memories back into a dark pocket in the recesses of her mind.

She had a life of her own now. She didn’t need, or want, her father in her life. Closing her eyes and slumping against the kitchen counter, she ferociously ignored the painful tug of her heart.

“I’ve got to get on with my life, Lord,” she said aloud, but the words just floated away on empty space.

A knock sounded on the front door. Julia glanced at the clock. It was still early for visitors, just past eight-thirty. Still, she was glad for the excuse to push her own dilemma aside for the moment, and she rushed to answer the door.

Zeke Taylor stood on the other side, shifting from foot to foot and jamming his fingers through his thick blond hair. Tip wandered around his legs, sniffing at the concrete landing.

Not quite sure what to do with the man, Julia crouched and welcomed the dog. Tip immediately came to her, barking in delight and rubbing her head against Julia’s hands. The dog didn’t even seem to notice the splint on her leg. It hardly hampered her movements at all.

“She’s looking great,” Julia commented, looking up at Zeke.

The big man stuffed his hands in his pockets and grinned. “I wish I could take the credit for it, but it’s all Tip’s doing. She’s a real trooper.”

Julia stood and gestured for Zeke to come in. “You’re just being modest.”

Zeke chuckled. It was a deep, affectionate sound that warmed Julia’s heart. “If you say so.”

“I do.” Julia settled on the sofa, and Zeke sat in the easy chair catty-corner to her.

He leaned his elbows on his knees and caught her gaze. For a moment he said nothing, just stared at her as if he could read her mind.

“What’s wrong, Julia?” His question was such a low murmur Julia wondered if she’d even heard him correctly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Maybe I should be begging your pardon,” he said softly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.”

She laughed shakily, a little unsettled by Zeke’s discernment. Maybe he could read her mind through her eyes. Or maybe she was wearing her heart on her sleeve for all to see.

She straightened her spine and tipped her chin a notch or two. It wasn’t Zeke’s business why she was feeling this way, and he had no right to pry. She didn’t have to tell him anything.

But as she looked into his kind gaze, she quickly realized it wasn’t Zeke she was angry with. And Zeke wasn’t pressuring her—he was sitting patiently, looking concerned and a little out of place.

She opened her mouth to tell him she was okay, but that’s not what came out. “My father just called.”

His eyes narrowed, and he stroked his beard with one hand. “I see,” he said, though he clearly didn’t.

“We’re not exactly on speaking terms.”

Zeke didn’t ask why, but he looked ready to listen. And for some strange reason, she felt like talking. To Zeke Taylor, the carpenter. She didn’t have time to figure out the swirl of emotions running through her. She was simply glad he was there.

“I haven’t seen him since the day I graduated high school and walked out that door,” she explained fiercely. “He tries to call once in a while, but I’ve always managed to avoid him. Until this morning.”

“Did he abuse you?” Zeke’s question was almost a growl, and his hands were back in his lap, clenched tightly together. He looked as if he were ready to punch someone, and Julia wondered if he would do her a favor and punch her dad.

Not that punching Dad that would solve anything, other than give her a sense of revenge. But she wasn’t looking for revenge. She was simply looking to be left alone.

“No. Yes,” she said in answer to his question. She took a deep breath. “Sometimes I wished he’d hit me. At least then he would have noticed me.”

“Absentee father, huh?”

“Deadbeat Dad. In the worst sense of the word. I don’t remember a time when he treated me like his daughter. He never even remembered to buy me a present for my birthday. He didn’t care if I had decent clothes for school or not. I don’t even think he cared if I got enough to eat.”

She paused. “I don’t think he wanted a daughter. I don’t think he wanted me.”

Zeke reached out to her. His hand engulfed hers, and the feeling was oddly reassuring. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “That’s tough for a little girl,” he said, his voice husky.

Julia pinched her lips together. “Yes it was. But it’s over now.”

He squeezed her hand. “Are you sure about that? Why’s the man calling, anyway?”

She appreciated the fact that Zeke didn’t call Greg Evans her father. “I couldn’t tell you. Maybe he suddenly found his conscience or something. Too little too late, in my book.”

“Could he be stalking you?” His tone was deadly serious, and a chill went down Julia’s spine.

But she wasn’t afraid of her father. He’d never hurt her, at least not physically. The emotional scars he left were big enough, but she didn’t worry that Greg was going to do something rash. “No. I don’t think so. Hopefully he hasn’t resorted to following me around.”

“If he does, Julia, you tell me, okay?” His gaze pulled at hers, willing her to agree with him. He really cared.

And it felt good. Julia chuckled. “If my dad starts in with any cat-and-mouse stuff, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

Zeke leaned in to her, until their gazes were mere inches apart, and she could feel the warmth of his breath fanning her cheek, coming in quick, short bursts.

“This is serious, Julia. I want you to promise me.”

Julia wasn’t sure her mouth would work. Her heart had suddenly taken to calisthenics, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to speak over the noise. “I—I promise.”

He leaned back as fast as he’d moved in on her. “Great. Then we have a deal.”

“A deal,” Julia echoed, placing a hand over her racing heart. Why did Zeke’s nearness affect her even more than her father’s phone call? Maybe she was just confused, given the way the day was going.

“You never asked me why I’m here,” Zeke reminded her with a grin bright enough to let her know he was intentionally changing the subject.

“Why are you here?” He was going to think she was a parrot if she kept this up.

“I’ve been thinking about that committee you wanted me to join.”

“For the service supper.”

He nodded briskly. “That’s the one.”

“And?”

“I’m happy to help.”

“You didn’t have to come all this way just to tell me that.” Julia chuckled. “You could have phoned.”

“No—I wanted to thank you personally for asking. It means a lot to me. I…wanted you to know.”

“Well, I’m glad I asked,” she said, realizing just how true that was. She was growing to regard Zeke as a dear friend. “I have a suspicion you’re going to be a great ally to have in my corner.”

In more ways than one.

## Chapter Five

Before the evening was through, he was going to choke to death in this monkey suit with its fancy ruffles and wickedly snug-fitting bow tie, Zeke thought as he pulled his car into the lot at Grace Church and shut down the engine with a groan.

He wouldn’t be caught dead in a tuxedo for anyone, but he couldn’t turn this engagement down. The pregnant, often heartbroken women at HeartBeat, many of whom were facing one of the biggest crises of their lives, were expecting a formal dinner, the service supper Zeke had had a part in planning.

For them, he’d wear a suit. Even a tuxedo with a baby-blue cummerbund and a bow tie.

Naturally, he’d tried to talk Julia out of it, thinking they could do something a little less—constricting—but she just laughed and told him baby blue matched his eyes, and that he better get used to the idea. As if that were going to happen.

Sighing aloud, he got out of the truck and wrapped the fancy black jacket around his thick shoulders, then reached for the white orchid corsage he’d picked up on a whim.

A really stupid whim.

He was always doing goofy things where Julia was concerned. He couldn’t seem to help himself. Thinking of her made him think of flowers and sunshine.

It was his propensity to act on his crazy ideas that disturbed him. Think of flowers, buy flowers. Next thing you know, she’d have him buying her the sun.

Chuckling under his breath, he clutched the corsage box in his hand and whisked it behind his back. He was an idiot, but at least he was a happy idiot.

He had no idea how Julia would react. Hopefully she’d take pity on the Happy Idiot, and let him get out of this getup and back into blue jeans.

“What do you think?” Lakeisha asked loudly, if cheerfully, as Zeke walked in. “I look ridiculous, don’t I?”

“You look great,” Zeke assured her, meeting Julia’s amused gaze with his own, and thinking that if anyone looked out of place here, it was him. The women looked surprisingly feminine in their black coats and soft pink bow ties.

Lakeisha wasn’t finished. She pulled on his jacket arm to get his attention.

“I look like a penguin. Observe.” She demonstrated with the side-to-side rocking motion of the black-and-white bird. “Why do the women have to wear tuxedos?”

“Because,” Julia answered as she demonstrated with a waiter’s suave bow, “we’re offering white glove service tonight. And we’re the white gloves.” She donned the elegant accessories as she spoke.

Despite Lakeisha’s complaint, Zeke thought Julia looked stunning in her outfit. She’d swept her hair up so it surrounded her face like a halo. Her cheeks were attractively flushed, and her eyes were beaming with excitement.

He fingered the corsage in his hand. He’d definitely dived clear off the dock. Maybe he should just leave well enough alone. But when he saw her expectant gaze on him, his hand pulled the corsage out from behind his back on its own accord.

He meant to present the corsage and say something sophisticated and classy, but all that came out of his mouth was, “For you.”

Julia’s color heightened as Lakeisha let out a hoot. “I…Zeke…” she stammered, but when she looked up and met his gaze, she simply said, “Thank you.”

Slowly, carefully, he unwrapped the orchid and placed it on her left wrist. “I, know this dinner is for the pregnant ladies, but I, uh, just wanted tonight’s formal to be special for you, too.”

Julia’s eyes flooded with tears, though she tried to stop them. Zeke couldn’t possibly have known. Looking down at the corsage on her wrist, she almost felt as if she hadn’t missed her senior prom because her father had walked out with all their money all those years ago.

Julia’s heart slammed into her chest, and she was certain everyone could see the way she labored to breathe. Who had taken all the oxygen from the room and not told her about it?

And she didn’t even want to think about the way her face must be flushing as red as a rose.

Her eyes sought Zeke’s, but her mortification only increased as he smiled back at her, his gaze taking in the blush on her cheeks and, she suspected, the thoughts of her heart.

Feelings coursed through her—happiness, wistfulness, and most of all, joy. Because of her upbringing, she wasn’t a hugging kind of person by nature, but she had her arms around Zeke faster than a person could say senior prom.

For a moment, Zeke stood stiff and still in her embrace, and she was concerned she’d overplayed the moment. But before she could step back and apologize, he wrapped her in his arms and squeezed her tight, swinging her gently around in a circle and lifting her completely off her feet. She realized belatedly that he was laughing.

“Thank you,” she said again as he set her down. “You’ve made my night.”

He winked and then spun away, bellowing something about getting the tables set and ready. Julia’s heart was still beating double time in her chest, but she valiantly attempted to school her thoughts, placing an open palm over her heart and breathing deeply.

Lakeisha, coming up behind her, gave a low whistle. “Have you got an admirer, or what?”

“The corsage is lovely,” Julia agreed.

“No, girl, I was talking about the man. Mmm, baby.”

“Lakeisha!” Julia cracked up. “I can’t believe you sometimes.”

“Don’t you go saying you weren’t thinking the same thing, because I won’t believe you.”