A Second Chance at Forever

Nurse Anne Matson’s structured life derails when a familiar patient enters her ER—the ex-husband she left ten years ago. Matthew Clark is the last person she expects to see in Paradise, Colorado, especially with a nine-year-old daughter. The single dad is running the town’s biggest expansion project, but one thing stands in his way—Anne’s Victorian home. When his daughter falls ill, and Anne volunteers to help with her care, Matt recognizes he’s never stopped loving the spirited beauty. But how can he get her back when he plans to take all she has left...or can Anne see she has everything to gain—the family she’s been denied?

He was real, all right. All too real.

All six feet and wide shoulders worth of him. He’d loosened his tie and his hair was all mussed and all she could do was stare, asking herself the same question her friend had. Why had she left such a man?

“Give me your keys. I’ll change your tire.”

Roused from her reverie, she remembered her disabled car. “I can do it. I don’t need rescuing.”

“Never crossed my mind. But even you can use a little help sometimes.”

When he was done, Anne reached into the car and handed him disinfectant wipes.

Matt smirked. “A true nurse. Always prepared.”

But when he stepped closer, she wasn’t prepared. Not the least bit.

Why? They were over. She had moved on…to a safe life.

A lonely life, said an inner voice.

The more she was around Matt, the more confused she became. Or was she? Actually, what she wanted became clearer. But did she have the courage to reach for it?

TINA RADCLIFFE has been dreaming and scribbling for years. Originally from western New York, she left home for a tour of duty with the Army Security Agency stationed in Augsburg, Germany, and ended up in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Her past careers include certified oncology RN and library cataloger. She recently moved from Denver, Colorado, to the Phoenix, Arizona, area, where she writes heartwarming and fun inspirational romance.

Rocky Mountain Reunion

Tina Radcliffe

www.Harlequin.com

Be of good courage and He shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the Lord.

—Psalms 31:24

Acknowledgments

Many thanks to beta-reader Tracey Hagwood for her insightful comments and suggestions on the proposal for this book. Thank you, Maria King, RPh, for patiently answering questions related to diabetes. Thanks to Brenda at D and B House Movers in Monroe, Michigan, for being so helpful.

I’d like to add a shout-out to the Aarons in my life. Thank you, Tom Radcliffe, Tessie Russo, Michael Russo, Mary Connealy, Ruth Logan Herne, Missy Tippens, Debby Giusti, Janet Dean and Sharon Medley.

As always, thank you to my agent, Meredith Bernstein, for her support. A special thanks to my editor, Giselle Regus, who consistently challenges me to dig deeper and makes me a better writer.

Many of the Paradise series books are set in a fictional medical setting; however, the information in these works of fiction should

never be considered a substitute for seeking medical advice. All errors are wholly mine.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Acknowledgments

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

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

“Anne, ambulances are en route.”

Anne Matson looked up from the tidy pile of paperwork on her desk. “Was that plural?”

Marta Howard, RN, stood in the doorway of Anne’s office. She reached up to tuck a strand of short gray hair behind her ear. “Afraid so. Accident at Paradise Lake. At the construction site.”

Anne straightened the bud vase on her desk that held a fragrant pink rose bloom from her garden and put away her files.

“How far out are they?” She stood and grabbed her stethoscope before slipping a pen into the pocket of her navy scrubs.

“Seven minutes.” Marta winked, her severe countenance warming. “And you thought it was going to be a slow day.”

“I should have kept my mouth closed.” Anne hit the light switch as she followed Marta into the emergency department hall. “What’s the extent of the injuries?”

“The first is a male—thirty-two, in serious condition with broken ribs, upper quadrant and lower extremity lacerations, abrasions and possible internal injuries.

“Second patient is also a male, thirty-one, possible ankle fracture with minor abrasions and a head laceration. I’ve already paged Dr. Nelson. He’s on his way.”

“Surgeon on call?”

“Daniels.”

“Notify him. Call Life Flight and give them a heads-up, in case we need transport.”

“Got it.”

As head of the Paradise ER nursing team, Anne was proud of her department, but she fully understood the limitations of the facility’s trauma unit. The majority of the center’s patients were the tourists that flooded the San de Cristo Mountain area and the close-knit mountain town of Paradise, Colorado, in search of seasonal recreation. Anything outside the scope of the small hospital’s care would be transferred straight to Alamosa and often to Denver.

“What’s going on with the patient in five?” Anne called out as Marta moved quickly to the unit secretary’s reception desk.

“Discharged. I called Dr. Rogers.”

“Sara?”

“No. Ben. He said he’d stop by tomorrow with his mobile unit and check the patient’s incision.”

Anne nodded and smiled. “That’s why I like working in Paradise. All the efficiency of big-city medicine with the personal touch of rural medicine thrown in.”

In the distance a siren could be heard. The familiar wail grew louder as the entire fleet of the Paradise Valley ambulance company approached the glass doors of the emergency department.

An instant later paramedics slammed through the ER doors. The late July heat met the hospital air-conditioning as a paramedic called out the first patient’s stats while he steered the moving gurney.

Anne slid her hands into disposable gloves. “Get this one to triage,” she directed. “The other can go to exam room two.”

Marta and two orderlies followed alongside the gurney that sped into the curtained triage area while Anne grabbed the hospital copy of the paramedic’s worksheet and shoved the papers into a metal chart.

“Move him over,” Marta called. “On my count. One. Two. Three.” The first patient was smoothly transferred to a hospital stretcher.

Anne noted the dwindling contents of the IV and hung a new bag as the medics left and Dr. Luke Nelson entered the room. Everything ran smoothly when Nelson was on the schedule. Though he was new to Paradise, he was their most qualified ER physician.

“What do we have?” he asked, already assessing the patient.

“Scaffold accident.” Anne read the chart. “Probable cracked ribs. Left abdominal-penetrating laceration, along with several minor lacerations to the scalp and face. BP is eighty-eight over fifty. Pulse, one hundred. Oxygen at three liters. Pulse ox, ninety percent.”

He began a head-to-toe physical examination as an orderly sliced through the man’s bloody shirt then wrapped an electronic blood pressure cuff around the patient’s arm.

“Any relevant history?” Nelson asked as he peeled back the crimson-soaked abdominal dressing. He nodded to Marta and she applied a clean gauze pad.

“None noted,” Anne said.

Nelson leaned over the patient. “Mr. Seville, I’m Dr. Nelson. We’re going to take good care of you.”

Seville? The name tripped a distant memory Anne couldn’t quite grasp. Frowning, she dismissed the thought.

The dark-haired man, whose upper half of his face was obscured by dirt and blood and the lower part by an oxygen mask, gave a weak shake of his head.

“Open up that IV,” Nelson continued. “I need a CBC and chem panel. And type and cross for four units. Get X-ray down here stat.”

“We’ve got another patient in exam room two,” Anne said. She tossed her gloves and scrubbed her hands at a stainless-steel sink before leading the way down the hall.

“Are you going to the fund-raising dinner?” Luke Nelson asked, his steps in sync with hers.

“Apparently it’s expected.”

“You don’t sound too enthusiastic.”

“Don’t I?”

He chuckled. “Politics, Anne. You have to play the game if you want to move up the career ladder. And since the money goes to expanding the emergency department, you should be excited.”

Anne shook her head. Hospital social events were low on her list of things to be excited about. But Nelson was right. She’d have to try to be social for her career, because that was what she wanted, right? A career move; maybe even an administrative position.

Or maybe not. Lately she’d been restless for something that a promotion couldn’t satisfy.

“Why don’t we go together?” Luke finally asked.

She gave him a sidelong glance. “I have a rule about dating people I work with.”

“Not a date.” He shrugged. “Just going together.”

“You’re new to Paradise. Let me warn you that the grapevine moves fast here. That’s why I also make it a rule never to let the line between my job and my personal life blur. It’s best to fly under the radar in this town.”

“Sounds like you have a lot of rules.”

Anne paused at his remark. Maybe she did. But the guidelines she’d set for herself had served her well as an unmarried woman living in a small town, and she didn’t plan to detour anytime soon.

They reached the open exam room and she stopped short and handed the chart to him.

Luke flipped it open, scanned the contents and then handed the chart back to her as he moved into the small room. “Mr. Clark?” he asked.

“Matt. You can call me Matt.”

“I’m Dr. Nelson and this is Ms. Matson.”

Anne’s head jerked back at the sound of Matthew Clark’s voice and the chart in her hands tumbled to the floor. Her gaze snapped toward the clear blue eyes of the man she had married nearly eleven years ago.

“Anne?” His eyes widened in turn as he stared at her.

Matthew Clark sat on the edge of the exam table in a bloodstained, torn and once-white polo shirt and jeans. His shirt bore the logo of First Construction Company on the left chest area.

The ice pack he held to his head pushed back short, dark blond hair. His left foot was shoeless and encased in a temporary inflatable splint; the right remained in a muddy steel-toed black work boot.

A bubble of air became trapped in Anne’s throat and she had to remember to breathe.

Matthew.

The years had only improved his boyish good looks. He looked the same, from the dimple on the right side of his mouth to the tiny scar on his chin. The same, yet somehow different. Matthew Clark was a man now.

He grimaced. Clearly the swelling and already colorful contusions on his face were painful.

“You two know each other?” Luke looked back and forth between the patient and her, stunned interest on his face.

“She’s my wife,” Matt said, his voice flat and void of emotion.

Luke’s brows shot up. “Your wife?”

“Ex. Ex-wife,” Anne sputtered.

Her words stretched out, filling the small room with a million unanswered questions.

When Anne stooped to pick up the scattered chart at her feet her stethoscope slid to the tiled floor. Resisting a groan, she draped the stethoscope around her neck once more and gathered the papers. She read the paramedic’s evaluation as she stood.

“How are you feeling?” Nelson asked his patient.

“I’ve been better,” Matt returned. “I didn’t think I needed that ambulance ride, but they insisted.”

“Always good to play on the side of caution.”

Anticipating the doctor’s needs, Anne tore open a sterile package of gloves, and offered them to him. Maybe if she focused on her job, her thoughts would stop spinning out of control.

“Thanks.” Nelson glanced at the hospital gown folded neatly and untouched next to Matt. “Ideally, we’d like you to change into that hospital gown.”

“Me? In that? Not happening in this lifetime.”

When a wicked smile curved his lips, Anne struggled not to laugh. Yes, the same old Matt. How had she forgotten his irreverent sense of humor?

The ER doc gave a thoughtful shake of his head. “We can work around it. I need to look at that scalp wound first.”

Matt lowered the ice pack from his head.

“Not too bad. A couple of sutures should do the trick.”

“You want to stitch my head?” He jerked back with surprise.

“Yes. These things bleed like crazy. Lots of superficial vessels in the scalp.”

“Do you have to shave my head?”

“No. Just trim a bit of hair near the wound. Won’t be obvious.”

“Looks like I have to trust you.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Nelson said, matching his patient’s humor.

“Go ahead and do what you have to do.”

“I’ll get a suture kit,” Anne said.

She exited the room and leaned against the wall. Matt. After all these years? Releasing a deep breath, she grabbed a sterile suture kit from the supply cart. It tumbled from her trembling hands. Scooping it up, she turned and ran smack into Marta.

“Whoa, careful. Is Nelson in there?”

“Yes. Room two.”

With a gentle hand on Anne’s shoulder, Marta peered closely. “Honey, are you okay? You look pale. Maybe you’re catching that bug that’s going around.”

“I’m fine.”

“Hmm. Well, can you tell Nelson that the family of the patient in exam room three wants to talk to him?”

Anne nodded, avoiding her friend’s gaze.

“You’re sure you’re all right,” Marta persisted, her eyes probing with concern.

“I’m good.” Of course she was good. As good as she could be after seeing the man she’d walked away from after they’d said, “I do.”

Anne pushed back into the exam room. “You’re wanted in three.”

“On my way.” Nelson turned to her. “Do you mind cleaning up that scalp wound? I’ll be right back to suture and then we can send him up to X-ray to assess that ankle.”

“No problem.” Anne straightened her shoulders. Of course she could do this. She was a professional.

Nelson gave her a brief nod, pausing long enough to once again look from Matt to her as he exited.

“Could you go ahead and lie down, please?” she asked Matt.

“Lie down?”

Anne pulled supplies from the exam cupboards. “You’re...” She cleared her throat. “You’re too tall for me to reach the area.”

The exam table creaked as he moved to a reclining position. “How’s Manny?” Matt asked.

“Manny Seville.” Anne turned slowly as realization hit. “Your college roommate.”

“That’s right. Manny is the site boss on the project.”

“He’s stable right now. We’ll know more soon.”

“Was his family notified? He has a wife and a new baby.”

Anne released a small smile. “Does he? I always liked Manny, though I have to admit I never thought he’d settle down.”

“People change.”

Yes, they do.

She pulled herself from her musing thoughts. “Our procedure is to notify immediate family. I can confirm that we had contact information when I finish this.”

“Thank you,” he said. Matt met her gaze, his expression humble. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your—”

“Dr. Nelson is my colleague.” She pulled the rolling stainless-steel exam table closer.

When he glanced pointedly at her left hand, her gaze in turn shifted immediately to his. Large, capable hands. In a heartbeat she regretted the action. There was no need to let him know that she’d often wondered if he’d married. After all, she’d moved on with her life long ago.

Hadn’t she?

* * *

Matt glanced at her name tag: Matson RN. There was zero doubt in his mind that Anne hadn’t told anyone about her “unfortunate” marriage.

Of course she had neatly erased the past. He expected nothing less.

Her black-brown hair framed her face in a bob that barely kissed her chin, the long bangs swept carelessly to the side, framing her face. Her features had evolved from a young, carefree girl to a classically elegant woman. He fought hard to ignore the fact that she was more beautiful now than at eighteen.

“So, you’re a nurse,” Matt said.

“Yes.”

“Just like your aunt wanted.”

Anne tensed a fraction, yet only silence ensued.

“Nine years,” he finally murmured.

“Excuse me?”

“We haven’t seen each other in nine years.”

“Ten,” she said, without looking up.

The simple response was enough to shake him to his core.

“Close your eyes, please. I’m going to cleanse the area and we don’t want to get any Betadine in your eyes.”

“Got it.”

Her touch was gentle as she attended to his face. With his eyes closed he could smell the antiseptic along with a whiff of vanilla. Involuntarily, his lips curved into a smile. Anne always wore vanilla lotion. Why was it that solitary lingering memory stood out, pushing open the door to an onslaught of thoughts of what could have been?

He dared to peek at her once more, however her attention remained steadfast on her task. Then, as if sensing his perusal, her clear, dark eyes met his and held for a fraction, rounding in stunned surprise. She quickly glanced away.

“Aren’t you going to ask what I’m doing in town?” Matt couldn’t resist the question.

“Welcome to Paradise,” Anne said with a rueful smile. “Everyone is already buzzing about the company that won the bid for the development down at Paradise Lake. I haven’t seen this much excitement since the state put us on the map of Colorado.”

She turned and smoothly grabbed a package from the table and tore it open. “How did this accident happen?”

“Pouring cement today. Long story short, the driver hit a piece of equipment. Manny and I were in the way.”

“You’re fortunate the injuries weren’t worse.”

“The Lord was watching out for us. That’s for sure.”

“So you’re in construction instead of architecture?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m a residential architect. But it turns out I like being outside better than being trapped in an office.”

“How long have you been with this company?”

“ ‘This company’ is mine.” Pride underlined his words. “Mine and Manny’s. We worked construction together overseas for a long time and finally decided we wanted to be our own boss.”

“In Paradise? Why not Four Forks?” Her brows rose slightly.

“There’s nothing for me in Four Forks. I haven’t been back since I left for college. For the record, I’m in Paradise because we won the bid,” he said, making it very clear that their past had nothing to do with his future.

The opportunity in Paradise had opened up just when he’d needed to put down roots for himself and his daughter. It would go a long way toward establishing his company in the Paradise Valley and providing them with the credibility to launch them into the big league. He felt God’s hand on everything that had occurred in the past weeks...well, except for today’s disaster.

“So you’re not staying? This is temporary?”

“I’m not sure yet. We’ll be headquartering somewhere in the valley.” He bit back his irritation. “I can shoot you a memo when I decide, if that will help.”

She frowned at his sarcasm, but said nothing, and Matt regretted his words. Somehow being around Anne for the first time in so many years brought out the bitterness he thought he’d moved beyond. Maybe forgiveness wasn’t as easy as a simple prayer, after all.

When Matt began to shift on the gurney Anne put the weight of her forearm firmly against his shoulder, all the while maintaining the sterility of her gloved hands. Neat trick. She didn’t look strong enough to hold a big guy like him pinned to the table. Yet she just did.

“Please don’t move. I’m trying to remove some debris from the wound.”

“Sorry.” He closed his eyes against another wave of emotion brought on by the warmth of her arm against his shoulder.

Her touch still staggered him. That was worrisome. Very worrisome.

Silence stretched as she concentrated. “Got it,” she finally said. The examination gloves snapped as she removed them. “All done. Now Dr. Nelson can suture the site.”

“Great. Thanks.” He grimaced as he sat up.

“What hurts?”

“What doesn’t? Mostly my ankle.”

“I’m guessing more than a little. It’s likely that you have a fracture or at minimum a bad sprain. Once your lab work and X-ray are reviewed, I’ll get the doctor to prescribe something for the pain.”

“What I really need is to get out of here. I have to be somewhere.” He reached to his back pocket and frowned. “Left my phone on the site.”

“I can bring a phone into the exam room for you.”

“Thank you. I’d really appreciate that.”

“No problem. That’s my job.”

Right. Her job. Nothing personal. She’d effectively grounded him with those two words.

Then for the first time since she’d walked into the exam room, Anne really looked at him. Her deep brown eyes stared unflinching as though she was searching for answers. Then her cheeks pinked and she opened her mouth. No words came out. She winced as if in pain herself, finally glancing away.

She was remembering.

A small part of Anne Matson hadn’t forgotten what they had once shared. The fleeting expression of remorse, sadness—or whatever had been on her face—unsettled him in a way that he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Matt swallowed and his breath caught in his chest. In truth, he’d planned for this moment for years; the moment he and Anne would come face-to-face again. He’d thought he was ready.

But he wasn’t. He had to admit the truth. There was no way that he could have been prepared.

His racing thoughts froze. Why should her remembering the past give him pause?

Hours ago he would have vehemently denied the possibility that he needed confirmation that they mattered to her. Yet, there it was; an unspoken need deep inside him for Anne to at least acknowledge their history and the fact that she had walked away from what they’d had, shattering his life into ragged pieces.

He hadn’t expected the victory to be quite so hollow.

All these years.

Once they were in love and now they were strangers. He’d torn their pages from his past and thrown them away long ago.

Yet here he was in Paradise, Colorado, with his memories and the reality of today slamming together.

He couldn’t deny his confusion.

The wall of anger around his heart trembled and Matt swallowed, afraid. Until this moment he’d been certain that he was finally on the road the Lord had laid out for him. Finally, he had gotten his life together. Now he wasn’t sure of anything.

Lord, I can’t open myself up for that pain again. Protect me from myself.

Chapter Two

“He’s your husband.” Marta’s words were a statement and not a question. Clearly her friend was shocked.

Anne’s pen jerked, leaving a long line of ink on her paperwork. “Okay, who told you?” She quickly turned from the counter to glance around. The staff had thinned now that the crisis was over. Even the waiting room had emptied of patients waiting to be seen.

“Who do you think?”

“Luke Nelson.”

“Of course.” Marta shook her head. “The real question here is why am I the last to find out about this?”

Anne raised her hand into the air and helplessly gestured. There was no good answer except that she’d never told anyone about what had happened ten years ago. How could she?

“I’ve known you since you graduated from nursing school, Anne. Here I thought you were married to the job. So when did you have time to get married and divorced? And do not tell me you forgot. No one forgets a man who looks like that.”

A giggling young nursing assistant moved past them, pushing Matt in a wheelchair, his left leg elevated. A wide grin lit up the young woman’s face and infatuation sparked in her eyes.

“The nursing assistants did rock-paper-scissors to see who got to wheel him to X-ray.”

“Oh, brother,” Anne muttered, with a shake of her head.

“I heard the Paradise ladies auxiliary is already arguing over who gets to bring casseroles to his house.”

“He’s only been here an hour, how can they possibly work that fast? You’re kidding, right?”

Marta lifted a brow. “Am I?”

Across from them laughter rang out as Juanita Villas, the plump, middle-aged unit clerk joined the conversation. “I signed up. Twice.”

Anne’s mouth dropped open.

“Don’t look so shocked. Me encanta.”

“And that means?” Anne asked.

“I like him. I like him a lot. He’s quite charming,” Juanita translated. “You’ve got good taste in ex-husbands.”

“I’ll say. Ruggedly handsome and tall. What is he, six-three? Four?” Marta mused, her gaze following to where the wheelchair was parked outside the elevator doors.

“Six-three.”

Anne snapped her fingers in front of Marta when she didn’t respond.

“Hmm?”

“Earth to Nurse Howard.”

“Oh, sorry.” Marta grinned. “I’ve apparently been married for way too long. All I can think is why would anyone ever divorce a man like that?”

“Annulment. Not divorce. I was eighteen years old. A baby for goodness’ sake. And we were married for all of five hours before Aunt Lily put an end to my childish plan.”

“F-five hours?” Juanita sputtered, her eyes round.

“That was what? Ten? Eleven years ago? I remember Lily back then.”

“Back then?” Juanita commented.

“Oh, you’re new to the valley. But I can tell you that Lily Gray was an important name around this area for years. A prominent real-estate developer and a very intimidating woman, as well,” Marta said. “When Lily Gray said jump, people jumped.”

“That was her public persona. She’s always been a marshmallow to me,” Anne said.

“Still, I can’t imagine having her as your guardian,” the older nurse continued. “It certainly explains a lot.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Juanita and Marta exchanged knowing glances.

“Stop that, you two. Aunt Lil always did what she thought was best for me. I ran away to get married. She stopped me from making a huge mistake. How can I fault her for that?”

Marta shook her head. “Yet in all this time you’ve never mentioned your marriage. It must still be a sensitive subject.”

“No. That’s not it,” Anne quickly denied. “I’m simply a private person. You know that.”

Marta gave her a slow appraisal as she shook her head. “Hmm. I thought I knew you. But now I’m guessing maybe I don’t. Never in a million years would I have pegged you for an impulsive act like running away to get married.”

“Why not?”

Juanita snorted and wagged her index finger in the air. “Honey, I may only have arrived in town a few years ago, but even I know that Anne Matson doesn’t do impulsive.”

Though she searched for a response, Anne found none. Fine. Juanita was right. No matter how you looked at it, the facts were unchanged. She didn’t do impulsive.

Indignation at the assessment had her narrowing her eyes at her coworkers and friends. “Look, I’d appreciate it if we could please keep this out of the Paradise grapevine.”

“Of course,” Marta said with her hand on her heart and a nod to Juanita. “We know the rules. What happens in the ER...”

“Stays in the ER,” Juanita said solemnly as she placed her hand over her own heart.

The desk phone rang and Juanita scooped up the receiver. She smoothly rolled her desk chair backward to grab an empty chart and pull a paper off the fax machine. “Yes, sir. We’ve got it.” Hanging up the phone she looked to Anne. “Cardiac patient on his way. Wife is driving him in. Sudden onset of chest pain. That was his primary care doc from Denver. He instructed them to come in immediately. He’s faxed over the history. Wife has a list of medications with her.”

Marta peeked at Anne from over the top of her half-glasses. “We’ll finish this conversation later.”

Anne shook her head. Oh, no, they wouldn’t. Not if she could help it.

The ER doors whooshed open and a middle-aged couple walked in. An orderly grabbed a wheelchair and assisted the patient into the seat as Juanita spoke to the wife.

“Exam room four,” Anne called to the ER staff.

“CBC. Chem seven, cardiac enzymes, EKG and a chest X-ray. Get Cardiac down here to consult, please,” Dr. Nelson directed as he moved toward the wheelchair.

“Anne.”

Anne whirled around in time to see Sheriff Sam Lawson push through the glass doors. She looked back at the desk. “Marta, can you handle the cardiac patient? Sam’s here.”

Marta’s gaze moved to the emergency room doorway. “Sure. Oh, by the way, the staffing agency called. Your aunt is threatening to fire another caregiver.”

Anne groaned as she walked away. “Of course, she is.” No day would be complete without her great-aunt being front and center on the agenda. “Tell them to ignore her threats. I do the hiring and firing.”

Turning back to the sheriff, she smiled at her longtime friend and shook her head. Life would be a lot simpler if she could have fallen in love with someone safe like Sam. Instead her fickle heart had refused to be wooed by anyone since she and Matt had parted.

“Another fun day in Paradise?” Sam asked as he removed his tan Stetson.

“The usual.”

“I find that Thursdays generally require extra prayer.”

“Thursdays? Hmm, I had no idea. Why is that?”

“Everyone is in a rush to get to the weekend.” He glanced around at the busy room. “How are thing here? I heard there was an accident at Paradise Lake.”

“There was. We received both patients about an hour ago and their status has been upgraded. One will most likely be discharged in a few hours and the other in twenty-four to forty-eight.”

“And your aunt?”

“You heard Juanita?”

Sam nodded his head in affirmation.

“That’s just Lily’s usual ‘off with their heads routine.’”

“Is her condition deteriorating?”

“Yes. She’s more and more forgetful and she’s taken to hiding things. Random things at that.”

“Such as?”

“Yesterday I found the salt-and-pepper shakers under the couch cushions.”

He chuckled. “That’s not so bad.”

“It depends on how much I need salt and pepper. The good news is that today she’s in rare form and back to ruling the monarchy.”

“I can stop by and check on her.”

“Would you? She likes you. She seems somehow calmer when you’re around.”

He nodded toward the badge on his tan uniform shirt. “It’s the badge. Seems to orient people.” He grinned. “And no problem. Happy to do it.”

“Thank you, so much. Key’s under the mat if you should need it.”

“Under the mat. Hmm. Well, since we’re friends, I’ll save my lecture on commonsense household security for another time.”

“I appreciate that, too.” Anne glanced out the door. “I thought you had something for me.”

“I do. In my patrol car. Got a spare wheelchair?” he asked as he pulled a notebook from his starched uniform pocket.

“Are you transporting patients now?” Anne asked.

“This one was sleeping on a park bench outside the Paradise library. The librarian called me.” He shrugged. “Since both ambulances were tied up and it’s only three blocks, I brought her in.”

Anne quirked a brow and looked past him to the parking lot. “What’s the situation?”

“I’m not sure. Caucasian female. Around nine or ten years old. Can’t put my finger on it, but she’s lethargic and she smells funny.”

“Drugs or alcohol?”

“She’s a baby, and this is Paradise,” Sam objected.

“Yes, and in a perfect world I wouldn’t be asking you that. You’re much too nice to be sheriff. You’ve got to get a little more cynical, like me.”

“My deputy would argue that point with you. He says I need to lighten up.”

She laughed. “Do you have a name for your admission?”

“No ID on her. She was with a black Lab whose collar says he’s Stanley. They’re both sleeping in my car. I’m taking the dog over to the vet’s to board and check the tag registration.”

“Why was a nine-year-old wandering around Paradise alone?” Anne mused. “I mean, where are her parents?”

“Must be tourists because I’ve never seen her or the dog before.”

She shook her head and walked to the left of the admissions counter where a row of wheelchairs was neatly parked. “Okay, let’s get your Jane Doe in here.”

An hour later and Anne was recalling Sam’s advice about more prayer being needed on a Thursday.

She sat on a leather stool next to an emergency room bed while the girl Sam had brought in dozed. Anne flipped open the chart. Her stomach growled and she ignored the plea for sustenance, instead choosing to spend her lunch break with her youngest patient. The kid would be terrified if she woke up in a hospital all alone. Anne knew that feeling all too well.

The night she’d lost her both of her parents in a car accident remained etched in her mind forever. It was probably the reason she had chosen a career in medicine. The kindly nurse who had stayed with her in the hospital that night had made a huge impact on her. Now it was Anne’s turn to return the favor.

A preliminary glucose check on the girl showed elevated levels higher than the meter could read. Anne monitored the child’s neuro status closely as they awaited lab results.

All indications were that the girl was well fed and cared for. Her jeans and shirt were clean, as was her long tawny-brown hair, parted neatly down the middle. So why was she sleeping on a public bench in the middle of the day? Alone. And who was she? What was her story?

The girl opened her eyes wide and immediately began fiddling with her hospital identification band and then with the IV tubing attached to her arm.

“Careful,” Anne said gently. “We need that line. That’s how we give you medicine.”

The round honey-colored eyes stared through Anne as though she wasn’t there.

“Can you tell me your name?” Anne asked.

“Claire” was the girl’s thick reply. Her lids fluttered closed as though she had no more energy, her long lashes resting on pale skin accented by a sprinkling of light freckles. Rounded cheeks held the last evidence of childhood baby fat.

“Your last name?”

“Griffin.”

“How old are you, Claire?”

“Nine.” She blinked. “Where am I?”

“In the hospital.”

Claire’s eyes widened. “Am I going to die?”

“No. You’re going to get better and go home. Can you tell me what happened today?”

The girl swallowed, as if her tongue was thick, but didn’t answer.

Leaning forward, Anne offered her chilled water from a plastic cup with a straw. The girl eagerly drank and then leaned back again.

Anne lowered her face closer to the bed. “Claire, what happened today?” she repeated softly.

“I took Stanley for a walk and then I started feeling funny. So I sat down on the bench. I feel better now.” She raised her head and glanced around. “Where’s Stanley?” The whispered words were laced with panic.

“Stanley is fine. He’s at the vet’s. They’re taking good care of him.”

Claire’s head sank back against the pillow.

“I need to contact your mother,” Anne said.

One by one, a silent trail of tears rolled down Claire’s cheek. She didn’t wipe at them. It was as though she didn’t even realize they were there.

Tightness pressed Anne’s chest as she waited for the words she didn’t want to hear.

“My mother is... She died,” she said, her voice heavy and slow.

Oh, Lord. Not this little girl, too?

“I’m so sorry,” Anne murmured, knowing the words were ineffectual at best. Before her brain registered what she was doing, she reached out to hold Claire’s free hand and give it a squeeze. “My momma died when I was your age.”

“Maybe they’re in heaven together,” Claire whispered.

Anne nodded, surprised yet pleased at the words.

The girl was silent, as though considering the possibility.

“Where’s your father, Claire?”

“Call Delia. I stay with Delia during the day. She lives on Maple Street by the church.”

A knock on the door to the exam room preceded Marta’s entrance. Anne stood and joined Marta in the hall, leaving the door ajar so she could watch Claire.

“Labs?” Anne asked.

Marta nodded. “Tox screen came back negative. Blood alcohol negative. Glucose six hundred.”

Anne shook her head. “Thanks, Marta. Tell Nelson we need insulin dosing ASAP.”

“Done. He’s on the way.”

“You’re good,” Anne commented.

“I sit at the feet of the master.” Marta quietly chuckled as Anne slipped back into the room.

“Claire, has anyone ever told you that you’re diabetic?”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“You haven’t been to the doctor recently?”

“No. There’s nothing wrong with me. I never get sick.”

“Phone for you, Anne,” Juanita called from the open doorway.

Anne stood.

“No. Don’t go.” Claire voice was laced with panic and she reached out a hand to stop Anne, her fingers clinging to the scrub shirttail.

Juanita lifted her brows.

“I’ll be right back. I promise.” Anne held the girl’s hand for a moment and smiled.

“She likes you,” Juanita said, confusion in her eyes as she glanced from the bed to Anne.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence there, pal,” Anne returned.

“The kids usually bond with Marta. She’s the mothering type. That’s all I’m saying.”

Anne’s head swiveled to Juanita. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry, boss. I just meant...”

“This one has been through a rough time. I can relate. She reminds me of myself at her age.”

“Now you’re going to try to tell me that you were a kid once?” Juanita asked with a teasing grin.

“You’re a real hoot today, aren’t you?”

“Every day. All part of my job description.”

Anne washed her hands and followed Juanita down the hall. “Can you call up to Pediatrics for a bed? Nelson will no doubt admit her until her glucose levels are stable. Her name is Claire Griffin.”

“Will do. Any luck contacting a responsible party?” Juanita asked when they stopped at reception. She nodded her head toward her computer. “Insurance information would be real nice.”

“All I have so far is the name.” Anne grabbed the blinking phone on the counter. “Matson, here.”

“Anne, it’s Sam. I just had a call from a Delia Seville. She’s hysterical. Says her husband is in the ER. She doesn’t have any transportation to hospital, and on top of that, her friend’s little girl is missing. Apparently, Mrs. Seville was babysitting.”

“Seville? One of the two men from the construction accident is Manny Seville. We admitted him.”

“Was the other guy Matthew Clark? First Construction?”

“Yes. He’s still here. Right now he’s in Orthopedics being evaluated. Why?”

“I think that’s his little girl I brought in. The Seville woman says she was with a black Lab.”

Anne nearly gasped aloud.

Matt has a daughter?

“Anne? You still there?”

“Yes. Sorry. Sam. The girl’s name is Claire Griffin.”

“That’s her.”

“I’ll have someone notify Matthew Clark.”

“Thanks. I’m going to give Mrs. Seville and her baby a ride to the hospital.”

“Her husband’s stable. Tell her that. And thanks, Sam.” Anne put down the phone.

Matt has a daughter? Her mind played the words over and over. Well, what did she expect? That his life was going to stop when she walked out on him?

She turned to Juanita. “I’ve got a responsible party to sign your insurance paperwork on that little girl.”

“Thank you.” Juanita’s eyes lit up.

“Matthew Clark. He’s still upstairs. Tell him we have his daughter down here and get him to sign the permission to treat while you’re at it.”

Juanita shook her head. “Aw, now you’re going to ruin my day. Do not tell me that man has another wife.”

“Another wife?”

“Besides you, I mean.”

Anne could feel her facing warming. “I don’t know anything about Mr. Clark, Juanita, but I feel confident you’re going to find out.”

“You know me too well.” She scooped her clipboard off the desk and headed toward the elevators.

Anne gripped the counter and turned to stare at the wall. She did the math. A nine-year-old daughter.

That would be shortly after her aunt had had the marriage annulled and transferred her from the University of Denver to Washington State to finish her degree.

She’d spent the better part of three years completely heartbroken but unwilling to defy her aunt. Her sole guardian.

Aunt Lily had warned her that a future with Matthew Clark was building her house on unstable ground. He was a penniless student with no prospects. Love, she’d claimed, was fleeting, especially when there was no money in the bank.

All these years, and her aunt had been proved correct. Anne had mistaken what she and Matt had had for love. Clearly he had no such illusions and had moved on with his life quickly enough, as though their love had never existed.

* * *

Matt stood in the door of his daughter’s room, resting his weight on his new aluminum crutches.

“Mr. Clark, you’re just in time,” the nurse who stood at Claire’s bed said. “I’m Megan Jansen, the diabetic nurse educator.”

He bit back a surge of pain as he moved into the room and shook her hand.

“Are you okay?” she asked with a quick glance down at his ankle in the plastic support boot.

He nodded. Yeah, he was okay. Glad to have dodged the need for surgery, but a badly sprained ankle requiring a walking boot and crutches wasn’t what he had expected when he’d rolled out of bed this morning.

“We were about to go over the use of the meter,” Megan said with a soothing tone. “I’ve got a warm washcloth to clean Claire’s hand and stimulate the flow of blood to her finger.”

“I don’t want to,” Claire responded. She forcibly tugged her hand away and turned her head toward the window.

“We can’t discharge you until you or your father demonstrates the ability to use the meter and administer the injections.”

“He can do it,” Claire said. The words were a sullen accusation, as though Matt had added yet another heap of misery into her young life.

Matt feared she was right.

Across the room, Megan Jansen’s gaze pleaded with Matt to intervene.

“Claire, we want you to get better,” Matt said.

“There’s nothing wrong with me. I feel fine.”

The nurse stood and moved her equipment to the bedside table. “I think it’s time for your father to try. The sooner we get this done and get you home, the better.”

“He’s not my father and I don’t have a home...” Claire’s voice trailed off and her eyes filled with moisture.

Matt’s gut clenched. Could he blame her? Claire’s world had been turned upside down in the past month. She’d gone from living with her mother in Denver one day to living with a man she didn’t know the next.

Confusion registered on the nurse’s face as she looked at him. “I thought you were her father.”

“I am—”

“I want Anne,” Claire interrupted with a pitiful wail.

“Anne?” Megan asked, her gaze moving from Claire to him, her brow furrowed yet again.

“Claire, who is Anne?” Matt asked, as a prickle of apprehension swept over him. Surely she didn’t mean...

“That nurse,” his daughter answered.

“From the emergency room?” he asked.

“The ER nursing supervisor,” Megan clarified.

“She’s the supervisor?” he countered.

“Yes.” She glanced at her watch and nodded toward the door, indicating he should follow.

Matt hobbled outside the room right behind her.

“Why is she asking for Anne?” Megan asked.

“I have no idea. Claire was admitted while I was in X-ray.”

“You know she’s off duty now, right?”

Matt could only nod and raise a palm. What was he supposed to do now?

“My mother is a very close friend of Anne’s. I can call her. She’ll try to get in touch with—”

“No. I can’t... I can’t bother her.” Especially not after his lousy attitude in the exam room.

“I think you’d better.” Megan paused. “What other choice do you have?”

“Why tonight? Can’t we wait until morning? After the doctor checks on her? Claire’s spending the night anyhow.”

“Anne might not even be scheduled to work tomorrow. I think it would be prudent for me to at least have my mother call her.”

“But you said I could do the injections and testing.”

“Look, Mr. Clark, unless you plan to be with Claire twenty-four-seven, she needs to participate in her own care. Sure, I can okay her discharge, but that won’t help you or Claire in the long run. Your daughter has provided us with an option, and if Anne’s presence will engage her, well, then...” She raised her shoulders and stared pointedly at him. “You should be willing to try this route.”

He glanced from the nurse through the doorway to his daughter. Claire’s eyes were closed in an attempt to block out the world. He felt like doing the same thing right about now.

Instead he fought back his pride and battled against the humiliation of the thought of inviting Anne Matson into his spectacular failure of a life as a new father.

Matt took a deep breath. “Okay. If it will help Claire. Yeah. Go ahead and ask your mother to get in touch with Anne.”

Megan left and he moved back into the room to stand at the window and stare out at the Paradise skyline. Clear blue skies, dotted with clouds, stretched as far as he could see. In the distance, mountain peaks hovered at the edge, guarding the small mountain community.

As a child he had looked out windows at the very same view. Always asking the same questions he was asking now. Where are you in all this, Lord? He silently prayed. Are you listening?

How had he come full circle back to the one place on the planet where he felt so vulnerable? Paradise Valley.

He ran a hand over his face and shook his head. Seemed everything had gone from good to messed up; his business, his friend Manny and even Claire. Now he was about to be challenged further. He was about to welcome the woman who’d once destroyed him back into his life. The woman was virtually a stranger to his daughter, yet Claire had chosen Anne over him to support her during this crisis. How was that for irony?

Chapter Three

Anne pulled into her driveway and sat in her pickup, staring at the house and mustering the energy to climb the steps while desperately grasping for a peace she didn’t feel.

Normally she could count on separating her two worlds by the time she had driven home. The sight of the two-story Victorian home signaled the boundary line as she put the day job behind her. The house calmed her, no matter the crisis in the Paradise ER.

But for the first time in her life calm was out of the question. Seeing Matt Clark and meeting his daughter had knocked her world into chaos and she didn’t like it one bit. Her life had an orderly precision and she blamed the past intruding on her present for today being completely out of control.

She began to pray under her breath while staring at the lovely building in front of her. It had wide steps that led to a cherry-red door topped with a stained-glass transom. The siding was painted dark cream with sea-foam-green accents. Scalloped cedar trimmed the second story, always reminding Anne of a gingerbread house. On the left was a small turret room that rose above the second floor.

This year she’d had the entire house repainted. Next summer’s goal was refurbishing the back deck. With a house that was over one hundred years old, there was always something that needed repair.

This particular home was the only connection she had left to family. And that family was only her great-aunt Lily.

Lately Anne never knew what to expect when she arrived home. Sometimes it was the dynamic and formidable Aunt Lily of Anne’s childhood, other days her aging great-aunt was disoriented, showing more and more indications of the insidious Alzheimer’s disease. Their roles had somehow become reversed. Now Anne found herself the caregiver for the woman who’d taken her in as an orphan some twenty years ago.

She gripped the steering wheel tightly, fighting back the questioning resentment that simmered just below the surface as her mind continued to race with thoughts and mental images of Matt and Claire.

For the first time since all those years ago she began to question the choices that were made for her when she was eighteen.

Ten years ago Lily had told her that education, a career and the independence to make her own choices was the important thing. Deep down inside she feared her aunt had been wrong. Those may have been the right choices for Lily Gray, but had they been the right choices for Anne Matson?

And if not, wasn’t it too late to do anything about it anyhow?

When the front door swung open and her aunt stepped outside and waved, urging her out of the truck, Anne did a double-take. She quickly reached for her leather tote and climbed out of the vehicle.

“Aunt Lily, is everything okay? Where’s your walker?”

“Oh, I don’t need that thing.” Petite and trim, her aunt gripped the rail tightly and held herself up with dignity. She always wore a dress, no matter the day or hour, looking for all the world like the queen of the manor.

“Okay,” Anne answered slowly. She glanced past her aunt to the open doorway. “And you aren’t wearing your alert necklace.”

“That’s for people who might fall. I’m fine.”

“And your aide?”

Lily shared a satisfied grin and ran a hand through her silver curls. “I sent her home. For good.”

There was a challenge in her aunt’s words and Anne wasn’t going to feed into it.

Yet, despite herself, a groan of frustration slipped from her lips. Sometimes her aunt Lily bamboozled her caregivers into thinking she didn’t need help and sent them home. Other times she simply fired them on the spot. Once again Anne would need to call the staffing agency.

She walked up the drive to the porch, her steps weary. “Why did you fire your aide?”

“That woman makes me have uncharitable thoughts. I can tell you that the good Lord would not be happy with that.”

“Aunt Lily. You know her replacement will be here tomorrow.” She moved up the cement steps and placed a kiss on her aunt’s forehead.

Lily offered a satisfied smile. “Oh no, dear. Not tomorrow. They can’t get another one until Monday at the earliest. I already called for you.”

“You called?”

Lily nodded.

“Tomorrow is Friday. I have to work. I can’t stay home.”

“You work too much. You and I could play hooky tomorrow.” Lily wiggled her brows suggestively.

Anne ushered her aunt into the house ahead of her. “I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can. You never call in sick. You never take a day off. Why, I imagine you have enough vacation time accumulated to take a trip around the world.”

Lily suddenly swayed and Anne reached out to grab her arm. “Where’s your walker?”

“Oh, phooey.”

“Aunt Lily?”

“It’s in the hall closet.”

Anne pulled open the closet door and slid out the walker, placing it squarely in front of her aunt.

“You know I’m still your elder,” Lily stated.

“I know that, Aunt Lily. I also know that I love you and I don’t want you to get hurt. Please use your walker.”

Lily released a huff of disgust.

When the house phone rang, Anne reached around her aunt to grab the receiver, grateful for the reprieve.

“Anne. Oh, good. I tried your cell and you didn’t answer.”

“Marta. Sorry. When I get outside Paradise town limits there are pockets where I get absolutely no signal. What’s up?”

“Megan called me.”

“Your daughter? Is everything okay?”

“Yes. She was assigned as diabetic nurse instructor for your patient.”

“What patient?”

“That little girl. Claire.”

“Oh?” Anne moved to the dining room and dropped her bag on the floor. “Is she okay? Is her father still there?

“Oh, yes, Mr. Hunky has been at her bedside since you left. She’s stable but she refuses to learn how to use the monitor or anything. Megan asked me to call you.”

“I don’t understand. Why would Claire ask for me?”

“You made some kind of impression on the kid. Frankly, Meg is a little concerned about the home environment. Apparently the girl lost her mother and really doesn’t know her father. Social Services is asking us to assist on this one. After all, she was found on a park bench. Maybe you could check things out.”

“I’m confused. How does Meg expect me to evaluate the situation?”

“Diabetic instruction. Didn’t I say that?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Sorry. Let me start over.” Marta gave a slightly embarrassed chuckle. “The endocrinologist has agreed to discharge tomorrow afternoon if Claire’s blood glucose levels continue to improve, but only if you agree to assist with diabetic instruction.”

“What? Marta! Me? I’m not even sure I’ll be in tomorrow.” Anne pushed back her bangs. “We’ve got some caregiver issues here with my aunt again.”

“Well...” Marta hesitated. “They could go to your house.”

“That’s crazy. They can’t come here.”

“Company?” Her aunt chirped from behind her. “I’d love to have company. The rose garden is so beautiful this time of year. We could have a picnic. Tell them yes, Anne.”

“Aunt Lily, isn’t it time for your game show?” Anne inched farther into the dining room.

“So it’s a little unconventional,” Marta continued. “But this is Paradise. We don’t do things the same way they do in the big city. You said so yourself, remember?”

“Of course, I did. I’m always saying things that will come back to haunt me.” Anne was silent, her gaze following her aunt, who had settled into a favorite recliner.

“This isn’t about Matthew Clark, is it?” Marta said quietly. “Because if it is, I think you should put your feelings for him aside.”

Feelings? Did she have feelings for the man? She’d barely touched the surface of sorting through her emotions after running into Matt. The entire day had been simply exhausting; that was the only feeling she was sure of.

“Are you still there?”

“I’m here, Marta.”

“What happened between you two is in the past, isn’t it?”

Anne sighed. The past. A wonderful place where she’d like to hide right now.

Instead she turned away from the living room and whispered into the phone. “Absolutely, and I couldn’t agree more. I was very young and, yes, that was a long time ago.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

Anne became silent. Should it be a problem? No. She could be a professional and handle the situation. But would her aunt remember Matt after all these years? And if she did, would she say something inappropriate, embarrassing or humiliating for both Anne and Matt?

That scenario seemed highly unlikely with Lily’s current state of mental health. In all probability she wouldn’t remember Matt at all. Still, everything inside Anne screamed that this was a bad idea. At very least it would be awkward. Anne couldn’t help but be nervous about the possibilities for disaster.

“Are you there?” Marta asked.

“Yes.” She paused again. “I’m thinking.”

“Think about this. Claire Griffin is a motherless little girl with an emotional hole in her heart. She’s reaching out to you.”

“Oh, that’s not fair,” Anne murmured through the lump in her throat.

“Perhaps. But it’s the absolute truth.”

“Marta, I just don’t...” She took a deep breath. “The situation is all kinds of impossible.”

“Forgive me if I’m out of line here, Anne, but if Claire’s father can humble himself to ask you for help, then I think you should consider doing the same.”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

Anne sighed loudly. “Okay. Fine. Take me off the schedule for tomorrow and give Matt Clark a call.”

“Thank you.”

“I should pray that I don’t regret this,” Anne muttered into the receiver. “But I already do.”

* * *

“Claire, we leave in ten minutes,” Matt called upstairs.

As usual, there wasn’t a single sound in response to his announcement. The two of them lived in the little cottage, yet all he ever heard was the echo of his own voice and Stanley’s occasional barking.

Matt glanced at the clock. After Claire’s discharge, he had agreed to let her come home to shower and change clothes before they headed to Anne’s. That might have been a tactical error since he knew very little about how long it took young girls to shower and dress.

He pulled his phone from his back pocket and typed a few more items onto his already-lengthy virtual grocery list. When he pulled open the door of the fridge and rested against the appliance, he could only shake his head. A lonely foil-covered casserole greeted him.

The nurse educator had laid out Claire’s nutritional needs. Apparently the haphazard meal plans he’d been providing up to now weren’t exactly going to win him any awards for father of the year. It’s wasn’t as though he’d had a childhood of healthy eating habits to draw upon.

Nope. His only parent was an alcoholic and they usually didn’t worry much about the food pyramid. So here he was learning how to read nutrition labels and practice smart meal choices not only for his daughter but to set a good example, for himself.

Thankfully some of the women in town had felt sorry for him and brought by lasagna and a fresh tossed salad last night. The meal was the first home-cooked fare since his last invitation to Delia and Manny’s house. And the good news was that there were leftovers.

He hobbled across the room, careful not to bear weight on his injured ankle, and nearly stumbled into the table in the process. Disgusted with himself, he sank into the chair. It hurt, but he couldn’t rely on pain pills if he was going to drive.

Hopefully he’d be able to get things back on track by the end of the day. How things had gotten so off course in a mere twenty-four hours he wasn’t sure. God had led him to Paradise but at some point Matt had stopped listening.

There was no doubt his pride was his undoing. He had to admit that since the moment he’d landed the job in Paradise, he had hoped to run into Anne so he’d be able to show her and her aunt what a success he’d made of his life. In the scenario that ran through his mind, she’d walk away from their meeting bemoaning the fact that she’d left him.

Things hadn’t turned out the way he’d expected. Not by a long shot. Yes, he’d been prideful and disaster had ensued. Now he found himself humbled and reaching out to Anne, of all people, for help.

Why was it that it took him so long to realize that every single time he took a step out without God’s direction he fell flat on his face?

Matt felt Stanley’s concerned and baleful eyes locked on him. The dog nudged him with his nose.

“Good boy,” Matt crooned as he rubbed the animal’s head. The Lab’s tail began to rhythmically thump on the tiled floor. Matt dipped his hand into the biscuit jar on the table and offered one to the pooch.

Thank you, Lord, for Stanley. The dog had stuck by Claire when she’d gotten sick yesterday. Things could have been a lot worse if Stanley hadn’t been around.

So far the best thing he’d done since gaining custody of Claire was to bring Stanley into their lives. The rescue dog had been his idea, to give the little girl something to focus on besides her loss.

The plan had worked and in return the Lab had never left her side. He had taken better care of Claire than her own father. What did that say about his parenting skills? He hadn’t even picked up on the signs that something was wrong with his child.

Tonight was going to be another test. He had to wake her in the night to test her glucose levels with the meter. Could he handle that? What if he slept through the alarm? What if he forgot everything the nurse had taught him?

Claire’s life depended on him.

Diabetes. The diagnosis terrified him and he fought not to let her know how scared he was. She might go into diabetic ketoacidosis if her blood sugar got too high or, worse, if he had to actually use the glucagon kit the hospital had given them for low blood sugar.

He’d been through a lot of things in his life, but he’d only had himself to worry about. Now he was responsible for two people and it was a first for him.

Matt ran a hand through his hair and stared ahead, seeing his daughter’s face as she’d slept in the hospital bed. Her long hair spread on the pillow, she’d looked more like six years old than nearly ten.

Suddenly everything in his life shifted. The seriousness of Claire’s disease left him reeling. Nothing was more important than his daughter.

His daughter.

She’d lost her mother and now had to rely on a father she didn’t know. It hadn’t helped any that he had been out of the country for most of the past ten years. When he’d finally met Claire they were like strangers. The irony was that they were the only family they each had left.

Emotion choked him and he pushed aside the stack of diabetic literature on the table, fighting anger. Rage aimed at himself mostly, because there was no point in harboring a grudge against the woman who had kept his child a secret. He was as guilty as she was for their reckless act of impulsiveness. Claire was the one caught in the middle. She’d never known her father and now her mother was gone.

In the center of the table sat his Bible. He hadn’t touched it since church last Sunday. Matt pulled the soft, leather-covered book closer. When he flipped through the pages the bookmark tucked in the very middle stopped him. Of course he knew what he would find nestled next to Psalm 31: a photo of him and Anne on their wedding day. Some days the picture made him smile. Other days the pain remained unbearable.

Today he closed the book as quickly as he’d opened it.

He glanced at his watch again. “Five minutes, Claire.”

Stanley barked as Claire entered the kitchen a moment later.

Her face was unreadable and expressionless as usual. Damp brown hair fell in waves past her shoulders. She wore a pink hoodie and blue jeans. He could have dealt with anger and defiance. That had been his attitude du jour, growing up with an absentee mother and a drunken father. But this indifference? Matt had no idea how to reach through the wall she’d constructed. He was an adult and he was afraid of a nine-year-old.

“Where are we going?” she asked, her face a mask.

“To see your new friend, Anne.”

A tiny light flickered in her brown eyes. “The nurse?”

“Yes. I called and we’re going to her house for some diabetic instruction.”

Claire’s shoulders relaxed imperceptibly. “Thank you,” she breathed.

Matt nodded, realizing that he had done something right. That surprised him, though he wasn’t going to pat himself on the back just yet. One step at a time. That was his new motto.

Claire was pleased and that was a good thing.

“How about if you grab the testing supplies and then get Stanley into the truck for me?”

She nodded.

When they were settled, he punched Anne’s address into the GPS and they drove in silence toward the outskirts of Paradise, past Patti Jo’s Café and Bakery, the hardware store and several novelty shops. Pedestrian traffic was steady in the small town where giant planters of geraniums and trailing ivy decorated the sidewalks.

Summer brought tourists escaping the heat of Denver and Colorado Springs to the moderate-to-cool climate of the mountain town for fishing, hiking and other activities. The town was picturesque and quaint, nestled in the San Luis Valley with the Sangre de Cristo Mountains to the north and the San Juan Mountains to the west.

As they started outside of town onto a rural road something began to click in Matt’s mental map. Anne lived on the other side of the lake. They’d met in college and he’d never actually been to her house, though he’d lived just a couple of miles northwest in the even smaller town of Four Forks. She’d never wanted him to meet her great-aunt, as though she’d suspected all along that her guardian would disapprove of their relationship.

That should have been his first red flag. But he’d been young and had thought that love conquered all—including his “wrong side of the tracks” background. Now he knew to listen to those warning flags as a spiritual first line of defense. Today the closer they got to Anne’s house the more his radar alarmed loud and clear.

He drove for a few miles following the directions on the GPS map, all the while watching for a location where he could safely pull off and onto the shoulder. Easing the truck to the right, he put on his emergency flashers.

“What are you doing?” Claire asked.

“Just checking something.” Matt reached into the backseat and pulled out the project plans. He carefully removed the sheath from the cardboard cylinder and unrolled the inner documents.

“Can you hold this?”

Claire held one side of the huge blueprint and he held the other.

His heart hammered. Sure enough. The very plans he’d helped create were about to complicate his life. Big-time.

Plans on paper were supposed to be adjustable. Erase them, start over and redo the mistakes. Right?

Well, it was too late for that. Everything had been set in motion. Official documents had been approved and registered. Construction had begun. Demolition permits had been filed.

The map that lay on the plans spread in front of him indicated that straight ahead they would turn right onto a narrow road. The town, in consultation with his firm, planned to expand and widen this particular rural road, providing a very necessary secondary egress to Paradise Lake and the development homes and condos.

Urban renewal—except this time it was in the country. But the theory was the same. The town of Paradise had the right of eminent domain: a legal instrument to move people and property for development projects that improved the town.

In Paradise that meant that all three of the houses along that road were slated to be razed. Homeowners had been given generous market value offers and they’d receive positive responses from all but one.

The single holdout, by virtue of no response, was address twenty-two-fifty.

Too late, he realized that twenty-two-fifty was the house that belonged to Lily Gray.

What were the odds?

Ten years later and Anne still lived with her aunt. Matt fought the desperate urge to turn the truck around, go back home, pack his bags and head straight to Denver.

If that wasn’t bad enough, and it absolutely was, he realized he was about to come face-to-face with Lily Gray after all these years. The woman he blamed for turning Anne against him. For destroying the happy ending he’d planned for his life.

He began to roll up the blueprint, carefully tucking the document back into the protective tube.

“Is something wrong?” Claire whispered in her soft voice.

Matt released a breath and rubbed his jaw. “Yeah. You could say that.”

“What is it?”

“Hard to explain,” he answered. “But it’s nothing that a little prayer won’t fix.”

Claire frowned slightly and cocked her head, her amber eyes clear. “Do you pray about everything?”

“I try to.” He turned and fully faced his daughter. “Do you pray, Claire?”

“I guess.” She shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“That’s good, because God is the best daddy either of us has. He won’t ever let us down. Today I am definitely going to need His help. And if today is one of those ‘sometimes’ for you, I’d like a few prayers, as well.”

She blinked and studied him, as though digesting his words, and then offered him a small nod.

The gesture comforted him as he signaled and got back on the road.

After driving a quarter mile farther he turned right. He saw the house long before the GPS device announced their arrival. This was the house Anne had talked about all the time when they were together. The home she was raised in as an orphan by her aunt. He’d recognize the cookie-cutter-trimmed Victorian from her descriptions. Architecturally he could appreciate the amazing structure with its period corbels, fish-scale shingles and cedar shakes.

Matt regretted that he hadn’t actually looked at the house before this, instead relying only on the geographic maps to plan the construction.

Would he have changed his mind and found another way to the lake if he’d seen how unique it was? If he’d known it was Anne’s home?

He’d never know for sure. “That’s her house?” Claire breathed.

“Looks like it is.”

“It sort of looks like a castle,” she said, talkative for the first time ever.

“What makes you think that?”

“Look at that pointy room there with the long windows.”

“A turret.”

“Turret,” she repeated. “That’s a room where a princess lives. Like Rapunzel.”

“A princess,” Matt murmured. He shook his head, trying to see the big house from his daughter’s eyes.

“I never thought about it that way, Claire. But I can see you’re absolutely right.”

Yeah, it was a castle with a princess inside. A dark-haired princess with chocolate-brown eyes who apparently had no clue that her castle was under siege.

Chapter Four

“They’re here,” Aunt Lily called. Excitement bubbled over in her voice. “Oh, hurry, hurry.”

“I’m right behind you.” Anne smoothed her hair and took a deep breath as her aunt pulled back the heavy, paneled curtains for another peek.

“My, isn’t he handsome?” Lily said, cocking her head to the side. “He looks a little familiar. Do I know him?”

Anne swallowed and began a hasty prayer under her breath.

“Oh, look they brought their dog,” she announced.

“He’s a big fellow.”

“Yes. Six foot three.”

Lily laughed. “I meant the dog.” She turned to Anne and smiled. “My, you look lovely, dear.”

“Thank you.” Anne glanced down at her black slacks and rose-print blouse and removed a small thread. She tucked her hair behind her ear and fussed with her bangs.

She’d obsessed over what to wear this morning, finally deciding to go casual yet professional. However, confidence in her apparel and being fully prepared to instruct on Type 1 Diabetes still failed to take the edge off her churning stomach or to still her trembling hands.

When the doorbell rang Aunt Lily carefully maneuvered her walker down the short hall. She straightened her dress and pushed her shoulders back, ready to greet her guests. A huge grin lit up her elfin face as Anne opened the door.

“Hello, hello,” Lily brightly called.

Behind the screen stood Matt, bigger than life on crutches, with Claire by his side, her arms protectively crossed. A pink backpack with all her diabetic supplies hung from her wrist. Stanley panted eagerly, ready for action, though he obediently waited on the sidewalk, his tail slapping the cement.

“Ma’am.” Matt nodded and met Anne’s gaze. His was apologetic and revealed the depth of his nervousness. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“It’s not a problem.” She smiled at his daughter. “How are you feeling, Claire?”

“Better,” the little girl murmured.

“Aunt Lily, this is Mr. Clark and his daughter, Claire.”

“How wonderful to meet you,” Aunt Lily said with enough perky energy and enthusiasm to cover the potential awkwardness of the moment.

Confusion registered on Matt’s face as he stared at Lily. He quickly regrouped.

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Gray.”

“Call me Lily. Oh, we’re going to be friends. I can see that.” She glanced at his ankle boot and crutches. “What happened?”

“A little accident.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Still looking perplexed, Matt held up a dog dish and a water bottle. “Would it be okay for Stanley to wait out here?”

“We can do better than that,” Lily said. “The backyard has a little gazebo. He could wait there and have some shade.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“I like your house,” Claire said, her gaze moving past Anne and Lily to peek down the long front hall.

“Well, thank you, dear. It is very special.”

“Claire says it reminds her of a castle,” Matt added.

“A castle?” Lily smiled at the girl. “You’re very right. That’s exactly what my grandmother had in mind when the house was built for her.”

Lily turned to Anne. “Why don’t you show Mr. Clark and his dog the way to the backyard? This young lady and I will meet you there. I’ll give her a little tour of our home along the way.”

Claire’s eyes widened with delight and Anne could only blink with pleasant surprise at her aunt’s take-charge attitude as she held open the door and ushered Claire in. Today Aunt Lily was very lucid and Anne couldn’t help but wonder if it was Claire who was responsible.

“Your aunt isn’t exactly what I remembered,” Matt said as he tucked his crutches beneath his arms.

“Ten years is a long time. And as I recall, you had about twenty minutes in her presence.”

“Yeah, well, as I recall, twenty minutes was pretty much all I needed.”

Anne could hardly refute his words. Her aunt had been ruthless in her dismissal of Matt, forbidding Anne from contacting him in any way, shape or form.

The two of them were silent as Stanley led the way, trotting gingerly on the wide, shale paver path along the side of the house and pausing on occasion to wait for Matt to catch up on his crutches.

Were they both thinking of the past?

“Your aunt really doesn’t remember me?”

“Not today she doesn’t. She has some vascular dementia and was recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Some days her personality, temperament and memory fluctuate like the weather.”

He frowned. “Claire will be okay with her?”

Anne stiffened. “Yes. Of course. She’s not dangerous.”

“Sorry. I’m not familiar... I didn’t mean to imply...” He shrugged.

She knew she should say something gracious to let him off the hook, but the words eluded her. The situation was becoming more awkward by the minute, just as she’d feared.

When they passed the corner of the house, the yard came into view. Stanley was desperate for freedom and made his needs clear as he tugged on the leash and whined in an effort to reach the expansive and lush lawn spread in front of them.

The sight was one Anne never took for granted. An acre of green grass that rivaled any golf course stretched all the way from the house to a border of dense trees.

“Wow, that’s quite a yard. How do you get the grass so green?” he asked.

“My aunt spent years cultivating just the right mixture of seed and fertilizer. She used to mow it with a riding mower herself. Now we pay a local kid to take care of it. But this yard is her pride and joy.”

“All this is your property?”

She nodded. “On the right we’re bordered by those apple trees and lilac bushes.” She pointed left and smiled. “That old barn is on the property line to the left.”

“No fence?”

She scoffed. “Would you fence in this beauty? We don’t have any close neighbors on this side of the road, except an occasional family of deer, so why bother?”

“Good point,” he said, suddenly frowning in thought.

When he shifted his stance Anne glanced down at his walking boot. “How’s the ankle?”

“Annoying.”

“Then I imagine it would be a waste of time for me to mention you should be taking it easy for the first twenty-four to forty-eight hours until the swelling goes down.”

“You would be correct.”

Anne resisted a smile. Stubborn. That hadn’t changed, either.

Stanley’s whining became urgent and this time his tugs on the leash were accompanied by low groans of impatience. “Okay to let him run? He can barely stand being on this leash.”

“I don’t blame him. Of course. Let him have some fun.”

Matt held both crutches with one hand and knelt to release the leash. Immediately, Stanley shot forward, nearly knocking Matt off his feet. The crutches dropped to the ground and he pitched forward.

Anne grabbed the tail of Matt’s shirt, yanking him back from a certain fate with the ground, as he, too, struggled for his balance.

“Whoa. Thanks,” he said as he righted himself.

When she picked the crutches up from the ground and handed them to him their hands brushed. She nodded, her face warming at the brief touch.

For minutes they both stared quietly at Stanley, a diversion from the awkwardness of the moment. The Lab raced down to the woods, then ran in circles, barking as he chased a bird that soared across the clear blue summer sky overhead.

“That’s one happy dog,” Anne commented.

“We’re renting a house in town with only a small patch of grass.”

“I wish we had a dog to take advantage of this yard.”

“Why don’t you?” he asked. “There are plenty of animals waiting to be rescued and loved at local shelters. That’s where we got Stanley.”

“It’s not that simple. I have a challenging work schedule. I’m constantly on call to back up my team.”