Giving Thanks for Baby
Terri Reed

I want to thank my fellow writers in this series, Deb,

Dana, Linda, Kathryn and Jillian for their input and

support. It was fun working with you ladies.

Leah, Lissa and Melissa, I couldn’t have made

this book happen without your support and

encouragement. Thanks bunches!

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

Special thanks and acknowledgment are given

to Terri Reed for her contribution

to the A TINY BLESSINGS TALE miniseries.

Chapter One

“If I had that window in my office, I wouldn’t get any work done.”

Trista Van Zandt glanced up from her homemade turkey and cheddar sandwich to smile at her tall blond sister-in-law who’d entered her office.

Kelly Van Zandt, beautiful in a rust-colored maternity dress that made the November leaves outside look drab in comparison, sat in one of the straight-backed chairs facing Trista’s desk.

“It is lovely,” Trista agreed. “Much better than the view of the parking lot I had in Richmond.”

As a litigator for the law firm of Benson and Benson Trista’s office on the fourth floor was small but had a nice view of the James River.

“One more good thing about you and Aidan moving here.” Kelly smiled. “How is my nephew?”

Tenderness welled up in Trista’s chest at the thought of her seven-month-old son, Aidan, who at the moment was safely at Chestnut Grove Child Care Center. “Adjusting well to day care. But anxious to see his new cousin.”

Kelly rubbed her burgeoning belly. “Just a month to go.”

Trista was glad that her brother’s wife would have a calm and peaceful last month before giving birth, so unlike the final month of her own pregnancy. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

Kelly brushed back her thick blond hair and smiled. “Yes. I was out shopping for the baby the other day. I bought the cutest coming-home outfit in a neutral cream with bunnies, since I don’t know if I’m bring home little Carissa or little Cameron. I’m so tempted to find out now what we’re having.”

“Don’t. Believe me, the wait is worth it.”

“So, how are you doing?” Kelly asked.

Trista had been expecting the question. Ever since she’d arrived in town, her brother, Ross and his wife, Kelly, had made it their job to take care of her and Aidan. As if they had the time, what with running Tiny Blessings adoption agency, Ross’s private investigation firm and their own baby’s imminent arrival. Trista shrugged. “Same old, same old.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Kelly grumbled.

“Excuse me?”

Concern darkened Kelly’s brown eyes. “I’m worried about you. You’ve done nothing but work and take care of Aidan. Why don’t you let us babysit him this weekend while you go have some harmless fun?”

Trista mentally scoffed. Harmless fun wasn’t something she had much experience with. Growing up in Brooklyn with alcoholic parents, she’d spent too much time running wild and getting in trouble. She always relied on her big brother to bail her out.

Once she’d realized the only way to find the security she’d lacked growing up was through her own determination and work, she’d applied herself to her studies.

She had an aptitude for litigation, and becoming a lawyer had seemed the best way to provide a stable life for herself. She’d be in control of her circumstances and have a decent salary. What more could she ask for?

But then she’d met Kevin Hughes at the end of her second year of law school and that blew having a stable life to pieces. She’d fallen hard for his charm and charisma and married him against Ross’s advice.

Well, she’d learned her lesson.

Love and happily-ever-after, she decided, were unrealistic aspirations for her. Only a very few, like Ross and Kelly, ever obtained true happiness.

Now her life’s goal was to provide a stable and secure home for her son. No matter what.

“You and Ross are the ones who should be going out now while you have the time,” she stated. “Once the baby arrives, you’ll understand why I choose to stay home at night with Aidan rather than doing anything else.”

Kelly nodded in understanding. “Okay, then. How about joining Naomi’s project?”

“Who is Naomi and what is her project?”

Sitting forward with an eager expression, Kelly explained. “Reverend Fraser’s wife, Naomi, created a Christian friends Web site called The Kingdom Room for singles so people all over the state can connect via the Internet. That would be a perfect way for you to get to know someone without having to go on dates.”

Shaking her head, Trista stated, “I’m not looking for a relationship. Been there, done that and not doing it again.”

“Oh, honey, don’t let what happened with Kevin sour you on love. I know God has someone in mind for you.”

Trista refrained from commenting on the ludicrous notion that God cared about her at all. If God thought anything about her it was that she wasn’t worth His time.

Putting away the remnants of her lunch, Trista came around the square glass-topped desk. “Don’t worry about me. I have Aidan and you and Ross. That’s all I need.”

Kelly sighed as she pushed up from the chair. “At least say you’ll come to dinner on Saturday.”

“Of course.” Trista gave Kelly a quick hug. “But I’ll cook for you.”

Kelly grinned. “Your lasagna?”

Trista grinned back, liking the sense of being valued coursing through her. “If that’s what you want.”

Kelly nodded eagerly. At the door, she paused. “Just think about The Kingdom Room. You might actually enjoy it.”

“I’ll think about it,” Trista said to appease her sister-in-law.

As soon as Kelly left, Trista returned to her desk and opened a file folder on a pending civil case, but her thoughts returned to Kelly’s words. God has someone in mind for you.

She ran a hand through her dark hair, which she’d worn loose today, and tried to concentrate on the papers in front of her. She hated to admit it, but deep down inside she wished what Kelly had stated about God was true.

But it wasn’t. Not for her.

She’d only leave herself open to hurt if she let such thoughts crowd her brain. Her gaze shifted away from the unread file and came to rest on her computer.

An online singles group? An interesting idea.

But please! Some lonely hearts club was the last thing she needed in her life.

The first week of November was a busy time for assistant pastor Scott Crosby. Organizing a toy drive with the youth of Chestnut Grove Community Church took a great deal of patience and perseverance. Two things Scott struggled with.

Not that he minded pinch hitting for the Youth Minister, Caleb Williams. After all, serving the Lord was Scott’s priority in life. And Scott didn’t begrudge Caleb taking his family on vacation until after Thanksgiving.

The Youth Center buzzed with activity. Normally, the center resembled the inside of a YMCA, complete with an exercise room, a television room sporting comfy secondhand couches and beanbag chairs, an arts-and-crafts room with tons of supplies for the many art projects offered and a small cafeteria.

Today, however, the center looked more like Santa’s workshop. The place was bursting with toys, wrapping paper, kids and…what was Naomi’s little dog doing?

Scott made a grab for the long-bodied, short-legged animal as it ran past him with a curly-haired doll hanging from its jaws. “Whoa, Buddy.” He scooped up the dachshund. “That’s not for you.”

Fourteen-year-old Tiffany skidded to a halt beside him. Her freckled nose wrinkled up in exasperation. “He’s such a rascal,” she exclaimed and took the squirming dog from Scott.

As she held the animal in her plump arms, Scott pried the doll out of Buddy’s mouth. Inspecting the doll, he shrugged. “Doesn’t look too bad. His teeth didn’t puncture the plastic.”

“Hey, Pastor Scott, should we put together the tricycle?” Jeremy, the star athlete of the local high school, called from across the room.

Leaving Buddy to Tiffany’s care, Scott waded through the mounds of toys and kids to where Jeremy and Billy stood beside an unopened box with the picture of a child’s red trike on the front. Both boys wore what seemed to be the fad of the day, long basketball shorts and hooded sweatshirts.

“Hmm. Good question. Let me ask Naomi if she has a specific child in mind for this and get back to you. In the meantime, I think the tire store downtown still has a box for us to pick up. Take some bags with you so you can leave the box there. That way people can continue to donate.”

Jeremy nodded and nudged Billy. “We’ll take my truck.”

Scott watched the boys leave. Pride filled his chest for the way the senior boy, Jeremy, was providing such a good role model for the younger, troubled Billy.

He glanced around and spotted the Reverend’s wife. Skirting the mayhem in the middle of the TV room, Scott headed toward where she sat on the floor putting the finishing touches on a wrapped gift. Naomi’s short-cropped red hair sported a paisley bandana that tied at the top, the ends of which poked straight up like dog ears. A few gray strands of hair reflected the overhead light.

Scott smiled with affection at the woman he considered to be a second mother rather than his superior’s wife. “How are we doing over here?”

His gaze took in the stacks of pretty wrapped gifts surrounding Naomi and the two young girls sitting in a semicircle on the floor.

Naomi looked up, her vivid blue eyes twinkling. “Did you ever imagine we’d have this many gifts after only three days?”

Scott chuckled. “No. The generosity of this town is a blessing.”

They’d only distributed the donation boxes to the many willing businesses around the community of Chestnut Grove the previous Friday night. Now on Monday afternoon, the outpouring of donations surprised them all.

This was a community of friends and family who pulled together to take care of each other. Scott felt blessed to be serving the Lord in Chestnut Grove. Here, at least, he was accepted, flaws and all.

“At this rate we’ll be able to put a toy in every underprivileged child’s hand at Christmas for miles around,” Naomi stated and held out her hand to Scott.

He helped her to her feet. She shook out her legs. “Whew, sitting on the floor at my age isn’t a good idea.”

One of the teenage girls giggled.

“You’re not old,” another girl, Nikki, commented. “At least you don’t act old. Not the way my parents do.”

The compliment was as close as the girl had come to saying she cared. Scott knew Naomi had been doing her level best to break through the teen’s protective barriers. Nikki liked to dress in all black and considered herself an Emo. When Scott was younger the term had been Goth. But whatever the phrase of the day it still conveyed the emotional chaos and confusion he remembered.

Naomi touched Nikki’s blond head in affection. “You girls carry on while Scott and I have a chat.”

She led Scott to the vacant cafeteria where she poured herself a cup of coffee. Scott declined her offer and took a seat at the round eating table. “The kids were wondering what to do with the boxed tricycle.”

Naomi sipped her coffee. “Leave it for now.”

“Okay.” He trusted Naomi’s judgment. Reverend Fraser was blessed to have such a good wife. Scott hoped one day he’d find a soul mate, someone willing to serve the Lord along side of him. Someone who’d accept him as he was, without trying to change him the way Sylvia had. She’d been his one serious girlfriend from high school through college until he’d decided to go into the ministry.

She’d dumped him then, saying she wasn’t ready for a serious relationship. But Scott knew the truth. Sylvia hadn’t wanted to be a pastor’s wife.

Scott leaned forward to place his elbows on the table and press his palms together. “I just sent Jeremy and Billy to collect the toys from Paul’s Tire Emporium. I figure next Saturday should be soon enough to have the kids out collecting from the bins around town again. I can’t imagine we’ll get much more than we already have.”

Naomi gestured to him with her cup. “It was a brilliant idea on your part to start the drive early this year. We can get this done and out of the way so we can all enjoy the upcoming holidays ourselves.”

Sometimes his impatience paid off. “I’m firming up plans with the food bank for the Thanksgiving dinner the church will be hosting. We need more volunteers, so if you could get the word out that would be great.”

“I certainly will.” She set her cup down and leaned forward. “How’s your family?”

“Good. I talked to Mom yesterday. She made a point of telling me she expected me at the dinner table on Thanksgiving.”

Scott would rather spend the majority of Thanksgiving Day helping feed those less fortunate than himself. At least that was the best explanation he could give his family. But the main reason he had declined to spend dawn till dusk at his parents’ house was the constant teasing he took from his siblings.

Sometimes he could escape to the game room in the basement with all of his nieces and nephews, but even there he wasn’t safe. His sibs would hunt him down.

Growing up the youngest of four, he’d always borne the brunt of the jokes and pranks. He didn’t understand or appreciate the rough ribbing. He sometimes wondered if the taunting hid the fact that his brothers and sister hadn’t wanted another sibling. He’d been a surprise for his parents, a fact his siblings loved to remind him.

It didn’t help the family dynamics any that Scott wasn’t cut from the same cloth as the rest of the high-achieving Crosbys. His father had been disappointed that Scott hadn’t followed his siblings into a professional career. His mother clucked over him as if he was still in kindergarten.

All in all, spending time with his family was stressful for him.

Naomi’s gaze turned speculative. “Scott, when are you going to find a nice girl and settle down?”

Scott coughed at the unexpected question. “I beg your pardon?”

“I worry that you work too hard. A young man should have some fun in his life. And you won’t be young forever.”

He didn’t need the reminder, but hearing it stated out loud accentuated the mortality of life. His parents would be celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary soon. A rarity in this day and age. A feat Scott could only hope to replicate one day.

“Time flies, and if you aren’t careful, you’ll be wishing you’d spent a bit more time on yourself than on others,” Naomi added.

Scott bristled. “I don’t think serving the Lord is a waste of my time.”

She gave him an indulgent look. “Don’t put words in my mouth. Serving the Lord is wonderful, but a man of God like you needs a helpmate in life. God doesn’t want all of us to be alone.”

Uh-oh. Scott blinked. He knew the youth of the church had played matchmaker with the Youth Minister, Caleb, and Anne, the former church secretary, now Caleb’s wife. It sounded as if Naomi wanted to pick up where they’d left off. Better put a stop to this pronto. He held up a hand. “I’m content with my life. Besides, I have so much on my plate with Caleb on vacation I think I should wait until the time is right.”

“That excuse will only last so long you know,” she commented with a gleam in her eyes.

Scott stood and backed away as if putting space between them might stop Naomi from whatever was going on in that head of hers. “I better get back to the kids.”

He didn’t want to give Naomi any chance to try to fix him up with someone in the congregation. That could jeopardize the acceptance he enjoyed in Chestnut Grove. Besides, he hadn’t lied when he’d said he had too much on his plate right now. But he also hadn’t wanted to admit he didn’t know if the time to find a wife would ever be right. He would hate to disappoint another person that he loved.

Naomi watched Scott shoot out of the cafeteria as though the Hound of the Baskervilles was on his heels. The man certainly was gun-shy of relationships.

As far as she’d seen, Scott kept everyone at an emotional arm’s length, even while he’d bend over backward to be of help. She understood how hard his decision to follow God’s call into ministry was on his relationship with his family and knew there was a rift or something that needed healing. But she sensed loneliness and a deep hurt in Scott, as well.

“Lord, how would You have me help this young man?”

Naomi waited a beat. An idea formed in her mind. “Ah, yes. Thank You, Lord.”

She knew what to do.

After washing her cup out and putting it on the drain pad, she went to her office where she fired up her computer. With a few clicks and some creative thinking, she added Scott anonymously to the growing number of members in The Kingdom Room.

“Sometimes people need a little help recognizing that the right time is right now,” she stated aloud and sat back. Now all she had to do was wait and watch the fun happen.

“Go to sleep and good night, my sweet prince,” Trista cooed softly to Aidan as she gently laid him in his crib. The teddy bear motif on the bumpers and mobile included little cubs frolicking in the grass and always made her smile. She’d found the crib and bedding at a secondhand store in Richmond. They were perfect for her little boy.

She tucked the blanket more securely around Aidan. Heartbreaking joy squeezed her chest, bringing tears to her eyes. She touched the downy softness of his dark hair. If anything were ever to happen to him, she didn’t think she could take it.

“Oh, God, if You’re real, please watch over this little life,” she whispered with a small hiccuping sob.

Aidan stirred. She quickly backed away to keep from disturbing him further. He needed his sleep. She did, too, but sleep had become hard to find ever since Aidan’s birth. She was terrified he’d need her in the middle of the night. She’d read all the baby books she could find and still feared that something bad would happen.

Being a parent was the most nerve-racking thing she’d ever experienced and she could only imagine that her anxiety would grow along with Aidan.

The sound of the phone ringing in the living room made her wince. Quickly, she left Aidan’s room, keeping the door cracked open, and rushed to answer the phone.

“Hello?”

Silence greeted her.

Trista frowned. “Hello? Is someone there?”

Straining to listen, she swore she heard the sound of muffled sobs as if the person on the other end of the line were trying to keep their tears quiet. Then the line went dead.

An eerie chill crept up Trista’s spine as she replaced the receiver. She didn’t know who had her number other than Kelly, Ross and her office. Fearing something had happened to her brother or his wife, she quickly snatched up the receiver and dialed their home number.

“Hi,” her brother’s booming voice intoned.

“Is everything okay?” Trista asked, skipping the pleasantries of greeting. She noted the blinking light of the answering machine. She’d forgotten to check it again when she’d come home from work.

“Yes. Why?”

She could hear the wariness in his voice. She couldn’t blame him with all the problems that had plagued the adoption agency of late. First the discovery of so many adoption records having been falsified over the years. Then Kelly received that threatening note at the Fourth of July celebration, and less than three weeks later the offices had been broken into and set on fire.

And just last month, Ross’s SUV’s front windshield had been shattered and another note left behind, demanding they stop investigating the phony records. “Is Kelly there? Is she okay?”

“She is. Trista, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.” She rolled her tense shoulders and shifted the receiver to the other side of her head. Her sweatshirt bunched up as she moved. She tugged at it. “I just received the strangest call. When I answered, there was no response, but I’m sure I heard crying.”

“Hmm. Do you think Mom could have called you?”

Trista scoffed. “No. She can’t even remember my name. How would she know where to call me?”

“I have no idea. But Alzheimer’s is a strange disease.”

A disease that was hereditary. A knot formed in her stomach. “Yes, well…be that as it may, I don’t think it was Mom.”

“It was probably a wrong number. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Whoever it was will call back if it was important,” Ross commented. “Kelly says you’re coming over Saturday to cook dinner.”

“Yep. Kelly requested lasagna. Will you make one of your killer salads?”

“Of course. Hey, I was thinking of driving out to visit Mom on Sunday after church. Will you come?”

Trista closed her eyes as guilt and resentment warred in her heart. Ross was so good at visiting their mother in the nursing home outside of Richmond. For Trista, the visits were torture. Michelle Van Zandt barely recognized her only daughter.

The last time Trista had gone to the home, Michelle had become so upset because she’d thought Trista was there to steal her husband away.

Henry Van Zandt had died from liver failure years ago. That their mother still worried her husband was cheating on her only served to instill in Trista a loathing to ever go down the matrimonial road again.

After her disaster of a marriage to Kevin and watching her mother’s decline, Trista vowed to concentrate on her son to make sure he didn’t grow up making the same mistakes his family made. She’d even bought a book on how to prevent Alzheimer’s, for herself and Aidan.

“Trista?”

“Uh, I don’t know. We’ll see.” That was as much commitment as she could give at the moment.

Ross sighed. “We can talk about it more on Saturday.”

Perfect. Now she was going to have to endure his lecture on how she should forgive their parents for the past and how their mother needed them now. She was well practiced in tuning out her brother’s lectures. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

She hung up and pushed the play button on the answering machine.

“Hi, babe. I need to talk with you. Call me, okay?”

Her ex-husband’s voice filled the room and she clenched her teeth. With a sharp jab of her finger she deleted the message.

What did he want now? He’d given up total custody of their son in the divorce, in exchange for the condo and all their possessions. She didn’t have anything else for him to take.

Restless and edgy, she cleaned the updated kitchen, straightened up Aidan’s plethora of toys strewn around the apartment and channel surfed on the twenty-inch TV that Ross had bought for her as a welcoming gift. When that didn’t relax her, she pulled out her laptop and set it on the pine coffee table. She could at least work.

Once the computer was ready she stared at the screen. She didn’t want to work. Instead, she surfed the Internet looking for fun things to do with Aidan around town.

A local farm had a pumpkin patch and hayride day coming up. That would be good.

Hmm. Story time at the new bookstore downtown. Aidan loved listening to stories.

She drummed her fingers on the table. Ugh! She needed a manicure.

Maybe Kelly was right. She’d been working too hard and not taking care of herself. She wished she had a friend in town but that was another thing her marriage to Kevin had ruined.

He’d so monopolized every moment, getting upset when she wanted to spend time with her friends, that she’d eventually let the friendships fade. She didn’t even know how to get hold of any of her old college gang.

She needed to link up with others who were in the same boat.

Single and lonely.

She frowned. She wasn’t lonely. She had Aidan. She just needed someone to talk to.

What was the name of that online group Kelly mentioned?

The Kingdom Room.

Heart pounding with anticipation, she went to the Web site. She hesitated a moment before bolstering her courage and registering. After filling in the blanks and choosing a screen name, she was in.

For an hour she lurked, reading the posts from the last few days. Men and women both conversed about various aspects of being single. A few mentioned their children. Nothing overly personal or uncomfortable here.

Okay, this was doable.

She wasn’t looking for a romantic encounter, just friends to understand.

With a deep breath, she jumped into the current thread of conversation, hoping to find someone out there to connect with.

Yet, a little voice inside her head taunted her—only more hurt would be her reward.

Chapter Two

By Tuesday morning Scott’s e-mail in-box was bursting.

He stared at the amount of posts. What was going on?

After booting up the computer when he first walked into his office, he’d gone in search of some tea. Setting his mug of Earl Grey on the marble coaster on his mahogany desk, he slipped into his fabric-covered chair.

Normally, he took a moment to let the soothing hues of blues and brown in the office soothe his mind before turning his thoughts to work. But the staggering number of e-mails held his attention.

He clicked into the in-box and began to scroll through the e-mails. They were all addressed to Called2serve. A dawning realization clenched his gut as he read the posts. Someone, Naomi he was sure, had registered him to The Kingdom Room and added him to their e-mail loop.

He didn’t have time for this.

His father had called just as he was leaving the apartment he rented in a private residence east of Main Street. The phone call had been strange. His father had asked if Scott would say a few words at his parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary. Scott could hear the emotion in his father’s voice and it left Scott feeling off-kilter.

Joseph Crosby had always been as solid as a hundred-year-old oak tree and just as unbendable.

His father was a family practitioner in Richmond. He’d had a long career and a great reputation. Everyone knew Doc Crosby. Candice Crosby was a star in her own right as a skilled surgeon. Scott and his sibs never lacked for medical care.

Scott’s sister, Elise, followed their father into medicine and was now a pediatrician. Her husband was a contractor and had built their home as well as Scott’s two brothers’ homes.

John and Kyle Crosby had veered from medicine and both became lawyers. An honorable profession according to their father.

And then there was Scott. The quiet one. The underachiever. The assistant pastor.

Another e-mail popped up.

Scott shook his head to clear his thoughts. He really didn’t have time for an Internet singles group. He needed to focus on organizing the upcoming Thanksgiving Day dinner for the homeless.

But curiosity got the better of him; he couldn’t help quickly scanning the e-mails before deleting them. Some were interesting threads of conversation regarding the holidays and the difficulty of being single when so many people seemed to expect couples at gatherings.

One post in particular grabbed his attention.

Hi, I’m new here and am hoping to connect with others who might understand. I’ve been divorced for a short time, but the marriage was over long before the official decree, I just didn’t know it. So I’m starting over in a new city and between work and my baby, I don’t have time to make friends. I’d been married since my second year of college. It’s strange to be alone, especially as the holidays approach. I do have some family, but they have their own lives. I don’t want to be a burden. Any suggestions? Is the emptiness I feel just the lack of a spouse? Is it normal? Will it pass?

Momof1

Scott sat back. These answers couldn’t be found online or anywhere else on this earth. Naomi may have added him to The Kingdom Room for her own reasons, but God obviously had reasons, as well.

Scott didn’t believe in coincidences. The Momof1 needed a guide to lead her to the truth. To the fulfillment she craved.

Only doing it via the Internet seemed so…cold and distant. So unlike God.

But in an age of electronic devices…God met people where they were. And Scott would serve any way God wanted him to.

Scott closed his eyes. Lord, give me the words You would have me say.

A moment later, he began to type.

It was late in the night on Wednesday when Trista remembered to check her e-mail. The past couple of days had been hectic. The senior Benson had been pleased with the work she’d done on a small claims case that had settled well and had informed her he wanted her on a new case that was a complicated land issue between the county and their client.

So she’d spent every spare moment she could studying the land laws of Virginia and specifically their county.

Now that Aidan had gone to bed, she propped her feet up on the coffee table, squirmed into a comfortable position on the secondhand sofa and fired up her laptop.

Whoa! These Kingdom Room people had a lot of free time. She couldn’t believe the amount of e-mail in her in-box.

She started with the first response from her post and slowly made her way through the quagmire of words. Some made her laugh, others she didn’t know what to make of.

One man sent her his picture and asked for a date. She quickly deleted that. It creeped her out that some one would ask for a date without knowing anything about the other person. For all the guy knew, she could be a serial killer.

Several women said she was nuts to be feeling anything but glad to be single. Those posts made Trista wonder what had happened in their marriages. She and Kevin hadn’t been very happy together, at least not the last few years, but she still missed having someone to talk to at the end of the day. Someone to share the ups and the downs with.

There were suggestions of places she could go to meet people, mostly exotic locales. Yeah, right! She had a baby to take care of, she couldn’t go gallivanting all over the world.

Books were recommended on dealing with divorce and single parenthood. Links to support groups were offered. A few commiserated on the emptiness and loneliness of finding themselves single after so many years of marriage.

Several said they’d be praying for her. She rolled her eyes at the clichéd sentiment. If only life’s problems were fixed so easily.

“What did you expect?” she asked herself aloud. This was a Christian Web site. These people believed in the power of prayer. It certainly couldn’t hurt to have them praying for her.

Trista wrote back to a few ladies that she felt a connection with, giving a brief glimpse into her life, yet careful not to reveal anything too personal.

A person just never knew who she was actually “talking” to online. Hadn’t she just seen a news show about online predators?

Then one e-mail snagged her interest.

Momof1

Has your family said that you’re a burden to them? If not, don’t assume that’s how they feel. One way of finding connections would be to join a women’s group in your area. As to your question about emptiness…people are not only physical and emotional beings with a need for food and companionship, but humans are spiritual beings with a need for God. How is your relationship with Him?

Called2serve

Trista stared at the screen. It wasn’t an unreasonable question that Called2serve asked. Presumably everyone on this site would believe in God. And it wasn’t that she didn’t believe in Him. It was just…where had God been when she was growing up and needed Him?

That was a question she was afraid to ask because she might find out she was right. She wasn’t worth God’s time.

Scott had thought he’d scared off Momof1 when a day had passed without a reply. But there was a message from her in his in-box on Thursday evening. He clicked on the post.

Called2serve

You ask how my relationship is with God. I’m trying to discover that amid all the turmoil of my divorce.

Momof1

Compassion filled Scott’s chest. He couldn’t imagine the pain of divorce. The death of a marriage. The shattered dreams.

The only experience he had with matters of the heart had been Sylvia. They had met during high school in the choir at church and shared a love of music and God. At least he’d thought they had until she’d walked away from him and the life he’d offered.

Her rejection had hurt, but had faded quickly after he’d entered seminary. Since then, he hadn’t met anyone whom he wanted to let into his heart.

He offered Momof1 what solace he could even though he felt very inadequate.

Thursday night.

Momof1

I don’t know the circumstance of your situation, but I do know God loves you. His comfort and peace are gifts He wants to give you.

Called2serve

Friday Morning.

Called2serve

How do I receive these gifts?

Momof1

Friday night.

Momof1

There’s nothing complicated about it, even though we’d like to think there is. Open your heart and mind to Him. Ask Him silently or aloud to show you His love, to come into your life. He so longs to. Then you wait and watch. He’ll reveal Himself. Sometimes in small ways, sometimes in big, dramatic ways. But you’ll know. And you’ll feel the peace and comfort like a gentle blanket of protection.

Called2serve

Trista entered The Kingdom Room on Friday night to discover a chat room was now available. She’d decided to stop corresponding with Called2serve since the direction of their conversation was heading into waters she wasn’t ready to navigate. Asking God into her life?

She was too afraid He’d say no.

It took a moment to acclimate to the format of the chat, but soon she was in on the discussion of the latest blockbuster movie. She hadn’t seen it, but asked if it was worth the time and trouble to go since she wasn’t into action films.

She was surprised to see Called2serve enter the room. But Called2serve didn’t acknowledge her, instead wrote that he wanted to see the movie and planned to go on Sunday afternoon.

Several other people who hadn’t seen it yet said they too would make a point of seeing the movie over the weekend at their local theaters and then the discussion could resume.

All she could commit to was a quick, I’ll think about it.

That earned her a smiley face from Called2serve.

For some reason that silly little yellow icon on her computer screen made her laugh.

Saturday morning arrived with a fresh fall of snow. Outside, a soft blanket of white covered the town of Chestnut Grove and a crisp freshness in the air brought anticipation of a cold winter. Scott stomped his snow-covered boots on the dry pavement beneath the awning of The Reading Rainbow Palace, downtown’s newest bookstore and café.

Inside the double doors, warmth seeped beneath the collar of his coat. He quickly shed the down parka, draping it on a peg bolted to the wall alongside a dozen others.

The place was hopping with mothers and children vying for spots near the center rise where a woman in a green vintage dress sat waiting. In her hands, she held a book and a puppet.

Hanging on to his backpack, Scott made his way to the counter and ordered a cappuccino with double whipped cream. Soon he was settled at a table off to the side where he pulled out a fiction book and began to read, the voices of the crowd fading into white noise.

A jarring knock against the table interrupted his flow. He glanced up and met the gaze of a beautiful, brunette woman with the most intense, bright-blue eyes he’d ever seen. She smiled apologetically as she maneuvered a jogging stroller to the corner before unstrapping an infant from the seat. The baby, dressed snugly in a powder-blue jumpsuit, had the same dark hair and vivid blue eyes as his mother. His chubby legs pumped as she held him face out.

The woman stood and stared at the crowd, indecision written plainly across her oval face. Scott didn’t blame her for hesitating before venturing into the sea of bodies taking up every available space on the carpeted floor. The only vacant chair sat across from Scott. He waved a hand to garner the woman’s attention.

She flicked her gaze at him, clearly unsure if she wanted to give him her attention. Scott indicated the chair. She bit her lip for a second before pulling the chair out and plopping down in it.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered back.

The woman turned her gaze toward the storyteller. Scott turned his attention back to his book, but now the words wouldn’t hold his interest. His gaze kept straying to the woman sitting across from him. He hadn’t seen her in church.

He liked the way her dark ponytail hung low at the nape of her neck in a sleek way. The high arch of her cheekbones and forehead gave her face sharp lines that were softened by her pert nose and dark lashed eyes. She wore a red turtleneck sweater and close-fitting black pants tucked into her snow boots.

There was an air of sophistication about her, yet she didn’t come across like one of the many debutantes his mother had always tried to fix him up with.

She glanced his way and he quickly picked up his drink to mask his bad manners. He usually didn’t stare. Or notice a woman’s left hand. Hers was surprisingly ringless.

But for some reason this woman drew his attention.

Probably it was the way she so deftly handled her son, like a pro. And there was no mistaking the love shining in her expression every time she cooed in her child’s ear.

Before the last story ended, the baby had fallen asleep, his little body curled over her arm, his head listing to the side. Scott tapped on the table, drawing the woman’s questioning gaze.

Nodding his head toward the child, he whispered, “He’s asleep.”

The woman’s eyes widened as she adjusted the infant so she could verify Scott’s statement. With a rueful shake of her head, she said softly, “So much for story time.”

She made to rise and Scott quickly asked, “Can I buy you a coffee?”

Slowly, she sat back. For a moment she stared at him, then finally she nodded. “Decaf almond latte.”

Scott rose and made his way to the counter. Naomi was going to love to hear that he’d just offered to buy this woman coffee without even asking her name. But the moment he’d thought she was leaving, he’d plunged ahead with the first thought that came to mind.

He ordered the drink and a few minutes later returned to the table. The jogging stroller was now pulled close to the table and the baby sleeping soundly in the seat.

Scott set the mug in front of the woman before he sat down. The quiet hum of parents helping their children do a craft that related to the story swirled around them.

She smiled as she put her slender hands around the mug. “Thank you. This was thoughtful.”

“You’re welcome.” Keeping his voice low, even though the crowd was busy with parents and kids wanting the storyteller’s books, he held out his hand. “Scott Crosby.”

She slipped her hand into his, the temperature from the mug having heated her palm. Warmth spread up his arm.

“I’m Trista Van Zandt.”

“Any relation to Ross and Kelly?”

Her expressive eyes widened. “Ross is my big brother. Do you know them?”

“Yes, very well. Are you visiting?”

She trailed a fingertip around the top of the mug.

“No, I moved here recently from Richmond.”

To make sure he wasn’t making an incorrect assumption, because some women didn’t take their husband’s names, he asked, “Are you and your husband enjoying our small community?”

Trista’s expression closed. “I’m divorced.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

She gave him a tight smile. “Nothing for you to feel sorry about.”

He acknowledged that with a nod. “Does your ex-husband still live in Richmond?”

“Yes, thankfully. He wasn’t ready to be a father. The very idea cramped his style.”

Anger stirred in Scott’s soul. “That’s just…” He was tempted to say a bad word but resisted with effort. “I’ll never understand how some men can be so selfish. Being a parent is the greatest honor God gives us.”

She blinked, obviously surprised by his words. “I suppose that’s true. It certainly is the hardest job I’ve ever had.”

“It’s good you have your brother and Kelly so close by. Are you adjusting to life here, then?”

Her smile was warm. “Yes, thank you. The slower pace is perfect for Aidan and me. I love my job and Aidan seems to like his day care.”

“Where are you working?”

“Benson and Benson.”

“Ah, are you a lawyer?” Scott said, wondering why that wouldn’t surprise him. She had a very strong self-possessed way about her, similar to Scott’s brothers. Only on them, it could, at times, come across as arrogance.

“Yes. And you? What do you do, Scott?” Her interested gaze sought answers.

Scott gladly gave one. “I’m the assistant pastor at Chestnut Grove Church.”

She blinked. “Oh.”

Scott could feel her retreat like the rays of the sun going behind a cloud. A disquieting sense of disappointment engulfed him, though why he didn’t understand.

It shouldn’t bother him that this woman would put up a wall between them because of his call to follow God. So many other people in his life had, as well.

He sighed. “I take it you don’t go to church?”

She raised a brow. “Why would you say that?”

He shrugged. “The vibe you’re giving off.”

One side of her mouth rose. “Oh, really? I didn’t know pastors bought into vibes.”

“Reading people is part of the job.”

“Then you must be good at your job, because you’re right, I don’t attend church. My parents weren’t big on religion and I just never got into it, not like Ross has.”

Scott considered her for a moment. “Now that you’ve moved here, maybe you should consider attending. You might be surprised.”

She lifted one slim shoulder. “Maybe.” She fiddled with a napkin. “I read in the paper that the Douglas Matthews show will be filming at the upcoming food drive that the church is hosting. That must be exciting to have that kind of coverage.”

“Yes, it is.” She didn’t fool Scott by changing the focus of their conversation. “The Douglas Matthews Show has brought Chestnut Grove a lot of attention. I think the food drive this year will be the biggest yet. And the Thanksgiving Day dinner for the homeless is sure to be a success.” He eyed her speculatively. “We could use more volunteers if you’re interested.”

She seemed to consider his words. “I might be. I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

“Call the church and ask for Naomi. She’ll be able to get you plugged in.”

“I’ll think about it.” She took a sip of coffee.

An awkward moment of silence stretched between them.

“Did you grow up here?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I was born here, but we moved to Richmond when I was a teen. I came back as soon as I left seminary.” He searched her face. “What about you? Where were you born?”

“Brooklyn, New York. I went to college at Columbia, then moved to Richmond, where my ex-husband’s family is from.”

Scott’s gaze touched on the sleeping baby. “How old is…Aidan?”

Affection lit up her eyes. “Yes, Aidan. He’s seven months.”

“That’s a fun age. They aren’t supermobile yet, but their personalities start to develop.”

Both of her eyebrows rose. “You sound like you know kids. Are you married?”

He laughed. “No. I just know from all my nieces and nephews.”

“Ah. Learning secondhand. My big brother’s been learning from Aidan. I can’t wait to see Ross with his own little one.”

“They’ll be good parents,” Scott stated. “Tiny Blessings has been through the wringer with all the scandals that have happened over the past few years. But your sister-in-law and brother seem to be handling it wonderfully.”

Trista’s chest puffed with pride. “They are. I’ve been trying to help a little with some of the legal stuff, but it gets very complicated and time-consuming. Not to mention how emotionally involving it is.”

“I can imagine. The agency has been a blessing to so many people.”

Trista liked the way he put that. In fact, she liked Scott. His blond, green-eyed good looks aside, there was something very soothing and gentle about him that was so unlike her brother or Kevin.

She supposed being a pastor was the difference.

And being a pastor also made him off-limits.

That is, if she were looking for a relationship, which she wasn’t. She couldn’t imagine two people having more dissimilar perspectives on life.

Beside her Aidan stirred. She picked him up and snuggled him close as he awakened.

“You’re very good with him,” Scott commented.

The compliment made her heart swell. “I can’t imagine my life without him now.”

She dug through the stroller bag and brought out a baby bottle with powdered formula in it. She turned to Scott. “Would you mind holding him while I fill the bottle with water?”

Scott’s eyes lit up. “I’d love to, if you think he’ll do okay with a stranger.”

“Only one way to find out,” she quipped and handed her son to him.

Scott handled the baby as if he’d been doing it forever. He bounced Aidan on his knee and made faces until Aidan giggled.

Trista went to the counter to get water, her gaze straying to Scott and Aidan. She trusted Scott with her son, which was unusual. Again, the fact that he was a pastor must be the reason she felt so comfortable with him.

She watched them together, Aidan’s eyes bright with curiosity and Scott so animated. She felt a pang of sadness and anger for what Kevin had chosen to destroy.

He’d vowed to have nothing to do with their child if she chose to keep him. So far he’d kept his vow.

But the disturbing message left on her machine earlier in the week nagged at her. Thankfully, he hadn’t called again and she had no intention of calling him. She was done with that chapter of her life. She and Aidan would do just fine.

She thanked the girl behind the counter who handed her some lukewarm water. She quickly mixed Aidan’s bottle and went back to the table.

Scott reached for the bottle. “May I?”

“Uh, sure.” She watched as Aidan greedily sucked from the rubber tip, drips of liquid leaking from the corners of his mouth. She handed Scott a burp cloth. He dabbed at the corners of Aidan’s mouth and placed the cloth underneath the bottle to catch the dribbles.

“Your sister must love to have you babysit,” Trista commented.

Scott chuckled. “I get asked to babysit a lot. Not only by my siblings’ kids but at church, too.” He shrugged. “I love kids.”

“It shows.” Her heart twisted with yearning for someone like Scott to be an important part of her son’s life. Maybe he could be, as their friend? That might require attending church, but more significantly, letting Scott into her life. She wasn’t sure if she could do either one.

Chapter Three

Trista’s attention was snagged by a woman and a young boy as they rose from a nearby table. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was Lynda Matthews—television talk show star Douglas Matthews’s wife—and their son, Logan. Trista gasped softly as the woman turned toward her.

A dark bruise covered one eye from the bottom of her cheekbone to the top of her eyebrow, masking the spattering of freckles on the left side of her face.

Trista jumped up and went to the woman. “Lynda? What happened?”

Lynda’s pale-blue eyes widened in panic. She reached up and tugged at her light-brown bobbed hair as if to cover the mark. Her four-year-old son clung to her hand.

“I—I, uh…” She tried to smile but it looked more like a wince. “Logan has a great pitching arm.”

Trista didn’t buy the lie. No way could Logan, a little slip of a boy, throw a baseball hard enough to cause such damage.

Scott joined them, Aidan propped on his hip as though he belonged there, but his jaw had taken on a hard edge. “Hello, Mrs. Matthews. Logan. Would you care to join us?”

Lynda shook her head and clutched at the closed neckline of her button-up blouse with her free hand. “We really should go. Douglas has an interview this morning with the paper and he would…like for us to be home when he gets home.”

Trista had met Douglas Matthews on several occasions. She doubted the self-important man would even notice if his wife and son were home. At the Fourth of July barbecue in Winchester Park, Lynda had indicated she wanted to talk with Trista in a lawyer-client way.

But Lynda had never called.

Clearly something was going on, and Trista wasn’t going to let it slide. “Lynda, would you be interested in having lunch with me one day next week?”

Lynda swallowed. Her gaze shifted around as if checking to see that no one overheard them. Timidly she nodded.

“Do you still have my card?” Trista asked, even as she stepped back to the stroller to find another one.

Lynda took the business card Trista held out with shaky hands. “We should go.”

Trista stopped her with a hand to her arm. Lynda shied away slightly. “Promise me you’ll call. That has all my numbers on it.”

“I’ll try,” Lynda said softly.

“If I don’t hear from you by Thursday, I’ll call you.”

Lynda shook her head. “Oh, no. I’ll call.” She scurried away, her son close to her side.

“Did you believe that story?”

Trista turned to Scott. Worry darkened his eyes. “What do your vibes tell you?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “That she’s hiding something. Something not good.”

Trista nodded. “That, Pastor Scott, is an understatement. I’d say her husband did that to her.”

Scott frowned. “I wouldn’t go advertising your suspicion unless you have proof.”

She took offense to his warning to keep quiet. That wasn’t in her nature. She took Aidan from him. “What other explanation could there be?”

Scott shook his head. “I don’t know. I can only pray that it’s not true and that she will get help if it is.”

Hugging Aidan close to still the quiet anger running through her, Trista said, “She’ll get help. I’ll make sure of that.”

Scott smiled. “Spoken like a true avenger.” His expression turned cautious. “Just remember that revenge and vengeance aren’t yours, hers or mine to take.”

Trista refrained from rolling her eyes. “You sound like my brother. He uses scripture on me all the time and he’s not even a pastor.”

Scott’s expression looked so stricken that she laughed.

“Don’t worry, I know Ross is only trying to help me.”

“He loves you,” Scott stated, his gaze still troubled.

“Yes,” she agreed. “And I love him, so I tolerate it.”

“But you won’t tolerate it from me?”

She grinned. “Not yet. We’ve only just met.”

“Would you…” He had the sweetest look of indecision on his face that made Trista want to say yes to whatever he was going to ask just to put him out of his misery.

“Would you want to go to a movie with me tomorrow night?” he finished quickly

Warning bells went off in her head. She wanted to refuse, but her lips wouldn’t let the words out. Wasn’t she planning on going to the theater tomorrow anyway? “Are you asking me on a date?”

For a beat he looked stunned, then slowly shrugged.

“Is that allowed?”

His eyebrows pulled together. “What?”

“I mean, you’re a pastor. Can you date?”

He chuckled. “Yes. I have a special dispensation.” He winked.

“Oh.” A date? With him? Not a good idea for so many reasons. “I’m not looking for a relationship,” she stated firmly.

He looked relieved. “Neither am I.”

So it wasn’t a date. A burst of irritation surprised her.

“How about if we meet at the cinema,” he continued. “Then it’s just two new friends watching the same movie. Not a date.”

Pushing aside her unsettling annoyance, she nodded, thankful he’d come up with a doable plan. “That would work. I’ll meet you there for the last matinee. I think Ross and Kelly will watch Aidan for me. Could we go see that new thriller everyone has been talking about?”

He grinned. “That’s funny. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

A little shiver tripped down her spine. Was it coincidence or were they really in tune with each other? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that question.

As Trista pushed Aidan in the stroller back to her apartment, she couldn’t believe she’d agreed to meet a pastor at the movies. Ross was going to laugh until he cried. She’d just have to convince her big brother this was not a date.

Lynda Matthews pulled into the driveway of their large new mansion on the outskirts of town. She couldn’t park in the garage because of her husband’s many cars. Douglas collected vintage roadsters. Just one of many expensive passions.

Like the house. It was too big, showy and a bit garish. Lots of brick and columns and shiny accoutrements that screamed “look at me.” She didn’t like the place, but Douglas had insisted they buy the house when they relocated to town.

It was his money, as he loved to remind her, so she had no say in the matter.

“Come on, honey,” she said to Logan. “Let’s go see if Kay has made something delicious for lunch.”

The inside of the house was just as overdone as the outside. Cold marble flooring, a round marble table with an expensive vase filled with exotic flowers greeted them as they entered. Sometimes Lynda felt as if she were walking into a hotel rather than a home.

She took off her warm wool coat and then helped Logan out of his parka. She laid both on the table.

“Where have you been?”

Lynda froze at her husband’s question. Then with a quick sweep of her hand, she pulled Logan behind her as she turned to face Douglas.

He stood in the doorway of the library off to her right. His six-foot-one frame filled the opening. He still wore the expensive navy suit he’d worn for his TV show Afternoons with Douglas Matthews. He was a handsome man with his jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes. The camera and his fans loved him. At one time, Lynda had, as well.

“We went to story time at the new bookstore downtown,” she answered quietly.

He raised his eyebrows as anger sparked in his eyes. “You went out in public like that?” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand.

She stiffened, expecting him to berate her for showing her face in public. Showing his shame in public.

“You know how important image is. You’re my wife and I expect you to dress the part.”

Of course, her clothing was his main concern. She’d thought her trendy yet conservative long skirt and blouse were very pretty.

“And it wouldn’t have hurt to put a little more makeup on that eye,” he added.

“I’m sorry. I should have thought it through better.”

His expression relaxed slightly. “Yes, you should have. Logan, come out from behind your mother’s skirt.”

Logan tugged at her and Lynda’s heart squeezed tight. She wanted to protect her son from Douglas’s criticism, yet she knew if they defied him, criticism would be the least of her worries. She grasped Logan’s hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze as she gently pulled him forward, but keeping him within arm’s reach.

Douglas had never raised a hand to Logan, but Lynda still wanted Logan close enough that she could shield him if necessary.

Logan looked so much like his father. The same black hair and stunning eyes, but he had Lynda’s disposition, much to Douglas’s annoyance.

“Son, did you enjoy the story hour?”

Logan nodded.

“Speak up,” Douglas snapped.

“Yes, sir, I did.”

Douglas bestowed one of his charming smiles on his son. “Good. It is important to be seen in town at functions that promote learning.”

Good for your image, Lynda thought but knew better than to put voice to her sarcasm.

“Will you be having lunch with us?” she asked.

He waved away her question. “No. I’m having lunch at the country club with Helene and Neal Harcourt. They’ve been big supporters of my show.”

Relief swept over her like a cool breeze. “Very well then. We won’t keep you. Come, Logan, let’s find Kay.”

As they went in search of the housekeeper-cook, Lynda could feel her husband’s gaze on her back. She stuck her hand in the pocket of her skirt and fingered the edges of Trista Van Zandt’s card.

Tomorrow she would call her.

That night at her brother’s house, Trista watched with wry amusement as Ross laughed until his eyes watered.

“You’re going…out with Pastor Scott?” Ross asked for the umpteenth time.

“We’re not going ‘out.’ We’re meeting at the movies. There’ll be a big group of people there.”

“Group?” Kelly exclaimed. “You joined The Kingdom Room, didn’t you?”

Sheepishly, Trista nodded.

At Ross’s questioning look, Kelly explained. “It’s an online single friends group that Naomi started.”

“I think that’s great!” he managed to say between guffaws.

“Then why are you crying?” Trista asked, drily.

Kelly reached across Aidan to squeeze Trista’s hand. “Don’t mind him. We think it’s great.” Kelly gave Ross a pointed look before turning her gaze back to Trista. “Scott is a very nice man.”

“Nice, as in wimp or nice, as in well mannered?” Trista teased.

Kelly grinned. “Definitely well mannered. I can’t say about the other.”

Trista shrugged. “It doesn’t matter either way. This is just two friends seeing the same movie. It’s not going anywhere.”

Ross wiped at his eyes. “Never say never.” He gazed adoringly at his wife.

Something akin to envy twisted in Trista’s heart. Her brother and Kelly truly loved one another. Their union had come with a price, though.

Kelly’s biological mother, Sandra Lange, had hired Ross as a private investigator to find the daughter she’d given up for adoption. Ross had found Kelly but also had uncovered a web of deceit that her biological father’s wife had woven over the years. The fallout had been steep. Sandra had ended up in the hospital in a coma and Kelly’s biological father, Gerald Morrow, then the mayor of Chestnut Grove, helped to bring his wife to justice.

“So, will you be able to watch Aidan for me?”

Ross sobered. “Yes, on one condition. You come to church with us in the morning and then go see Mom with me.”

Trista gritted her teeth. “That’s two conditions and no to both.”

Ross got that determined, ‘I’m going to have my way’ look she hated. “Trista, it’s not okay for you to turn your back on Mom.”

“I’m not,” she protested. But guilt and shame ran a ragged course through her. She hardened her heart to both. She would not feel bad for not wanting to see her mother. The woman hadn’t been there for her growing up. Why should she be there for her now?

Trista stood and began to unbuckle Aidan from the high chair. “You know what? Forget it. I’ll figure something else out.”

Kelly reached for her hand. “Of course we’ll watch him.”

Ross came around the table to put his arms around Trista much as he had when they were kids. Love for her brother brought tears to her eyes. She’d burdened him her whole life with her problems, and she still was. He’d been the rock in her chaotic world. She clung to him.

“Sis, I just worry that Mom will pass on before you make peace with her.”

She gave him a squeeze before disengaging from him. “I appreciate your concern. But I don’t feel I need to make peace with her.”

Ross sighed and nodded. “Well, would you at least come to church with us since you’re dating the assistant pastor?”

Exasperated, she glared at him. “I’m not dating him.”

His mouth twisted with suppressed mirth. “Whatever. Will you?”

“I’ll think about it.”

To Kelly, Ross stated, “That’s her way of ending a discussion without committing. It usually means no.”

Hefting a sleepy Aidan on her hip, Trista smiled. “Call me in the morning. That’s as much as I can promise.”

“Hey, that’s something.” Ross grinned.

Trista kissed her family goodbye and then drove to her apartment. By the time she arrived, Aidan was fast asleep. He didn’t even stir when she changed his clothes and laid him in his crib.

As she was getting herself ready for bed, the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi, babe.”

She cringed. She should have let the machine pick up the call. “Kevin, what do you want?”

“Oh, are we in a bad mood?”

She closed her eyes as anger washed through her. “Kevin, it’s late. Why are you calling?”

“I miss you.”

She nearly gagged. “Right.”

“Seriously.” He sounded offended. “I’m coming to see you tomorrow.”

Her heart stalled in her chest. “Why?”

“We need to talk.”

“I think we’ve said everything we need to say.”

“I’ll be there around two.”

She scrambled for an excuse. “We won’t be here. Aidan and I are going with Ross to visit Mom.”

There was a moment of silence before he said, “All right. I have an appointment on Monday so how about Tuesday. I’ll take you to lunch.”

“I’ll have to check my schedule and let you know if that will work.”

“Fine. I’ll call you tomorrow night to confirm.” He hung up without another word.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.