David smiled. “I like it when you blush.”

The warmth in her cheeks increased several degrees. She took a breath. “Then you must be very pleased at the moment.” It came out a tiny bit acerbic, which didn’t help her blush at all.

David’s smile widened. “I am.”

Smooth. Very smooth. A nervous little quiver rippled through Erin’s stomach. She grabbed her small white clutch bag off the table by the door and stepped out onto the porch before she lost her courage and bolted back to her bedroom to change into something less attractive—like an old baggy sweat suit.

“You’re not going to keep me waiting?” Shock spread across David’s face. “You’re ready to go?”

“I’m afraid so. There’s no point in more primping. This is as good as it gets.”

“It certainly is.”

DOROTHY CLARK

Critically acclaimed, award-winning author Dorothy Clark is a creative person. She lives in a home she designed and helped her husband build (she swings a mean hammer!) with the able assistance of their three children. She also designs and helps her husband build furniture. When she is not thus engaged, she can be found cheering her grandchildren on at various sports events, or furiously taking notes about possible settings for future novels as she and her husband travel throughout the United States and Canada. Dorothy believes in God, love, family and happy endings, which explains why she feels so at home writing her stories for Steeple Hill and Steeple Hill Love Inspired. Dorothy enjoys hearing from her readers and may be contacted at dorothyjclark@hotmail.com.

Lessons from the Heart
Dorothy Clark

Be ye not unequally yoked together with

unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness

with unrighteousness and what communion hath

light with darkness?

—2 Corinthians 6:14

Can two walk together, unless they be agreed?

—Amos 3:3

This book is dedicated, with affection and deep appreciation, to my editor, Krista Stroever, who gently and kindly eases me over the rough patches of the writing process with her humor, patience, enthusiasm and wonderful editing talent. And to my agent and friend, Joyce Hart. Without her faith in my writing, this book would not exist.

Thank you to the ladies of the Literacy Volunteers of Cattaraugus County for graciously answering my questions about this important work. And to all of the volunteers at all of the literacy centers across America for their dedication in helping others to a better life.

And I must extend my special thanks to Elizabeth Curtis, a sister ACFW member, who immediately stepped forward to answer my cry for help with the medical information I needed for this book. It must be all that E.R. trauma nurse training that makes her so quick to react! Whatever it is, she saved my skin. I couldn’t have written this book without your expert advice, Elizabeth. So again, thank you.

“Commit thy works unto the Lord, and thy thoughts shall be established.”

Your word is truth. Thank You, Jesus. To You be the glory.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Chapter One

David Carlson glanced at his mirrors, signaled then pulled over into the turn lane. Disappointment rode his shoulders. He needed a big story. He was so close to gaining a position among the top echelon of reporters at The Herald, and now the rumor about graft in the city’s transportation department he’d been investigating had fizzled into nothing but a disgruntled employee trying to get his boss in trouble.

David frowned and made the right turn onto Monroe Street. He was feeling a little disgruntled himself. One thing was sure, he wouldn’t find his big story this afternoon. At least not until he cleared away this minor one. He scanned the buildings on the right, looking for numbers—1422…1424… Ah! There it was.

David flipped on his blinker, pulled into the parking lot of the Westwood Literacy Center then glanced at his watch. Five minutes early. Perfect. Okay, Professor Stiles, let’s get this over with!

Erin Kelly hurried down the hallway, crossed the entrance and stuck her head around the open office door. “You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“Yes, yes. Come in, Erin, I’ll just be a minute.” The elderly man rummaged through a towering stack of papers on his desk, scowled then ran his hand through his thinning gray hair. “I had it here yesterday….”

He thumbed his way through another pile. “I don’t know why I can never find—”

Erin hooted. He scowled up at her. “Are you laughing at me, young lady?”

“Not at all.” She gave him a cheeky grin. “I’m laughing at your expectations.”

“Humph!”

The snort was one of fond affection. Erin’s grin widened. She gestured toward the litter of books, magazines and miscellaneous folders and papers that covered the large desk. “Do you really expect to find a specific item in that mess?”

“I do.”

She took a brave step forward. “Then perhaps if you tell me what you’re searching for, I could help.”

“I don’t need any help! That’s what’s wrong.” The professor directed a baleful look toward his secretary in the entrance room and raised his voice. “That woman was in here straightening up again. She can’t leave anything alone.”

“I only threw away things that were growing.”

The words floated in over Erin’s shoulder. She laughed and turned toward the door. “Good one, Alice!”

The secretary grinned at her, then faced the other way as the outer door opened.

Erin shifted her gaze. A tall, broad-shouldered, gorgeous man entered. He looked vaguely familiar. She searched through the files of memories in her head as she watched him walk over to Alice.

“Good afternoon. I’m David Carlson. I have an appointment with Professor Robert Stiles.”

The sound of his voice did it. Recognition dawned. David Carlson appeared occasionally on Channel Four News. What was he—?

“Hah! I’ve got it! One o’clock!”

Erin turned back to find the professor waving a scrap of paper through the air like a flag of triumph.

“That’s what I thought, just couldn’t remember for sure.” The professor ducked his head and squinted at her over the top of his glasses. “Some newshound called the other day. He wants to interview me about—”

Someone cleared their throat behind her. The professor stopped speaking and shifted his gaze to a point above and beyond her head. His gray eyebrows drew together. “Who are you?”

“The newshound.”

There was a trace of amusement in the deep voice. Erin stole a sidelong glance as David Carlson stepped up beside her and extended his hand over the desk.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important. Your secretary told me to come in. I’m David Carlson of The Herald, Professor Stiles. It’s good to make your acquaintance.”

“Humph. Too early to know that.” Her boss waved an age-spotted hand in her direction. “This is my program coordinator, Erin Kelly.”

David Carlson swung his handsome, impeccably groomed head her way. She looked up into his intelligent, alert, gray-blue eyes and the oddest sensation hit her. Everything inside her went still. It was as if time stopped.

“She’ll be answering your questions.”

The professor’s voice started time moving forward again. Erin gave herself a mental shake and drew in a breath of air. “Hello, Mr. Carlson.” She smiled and extended her hand. It was swallowed by his larger one. Warmth telegraphed itself up her arm. She glanced at their joined hands, shocked by the feeling.

“A pleasure, Ms. Kelly.”

A manila folder smacked down on the only clean spot on the desk. Erin jumped, withdrew her hand from the encompassing warmth and focused her fragmented attention as Professor Stiles fastened a keen-eyed look on David Carlson.

“Erin knows as much about the grant as I do, young man, and she’s better at tolerating questions about our operation.” He slapped his hand down on the folder. “This is a copy of the grant for reference—I don’t want any misquotes.” He looked at her.

“You can tell him about the center, Erin.”

“But—?”

A wave of her boss’s hand cut her off. “I’ve no time to discuss the matter, I’m already late for another appointment. I’ll talk with you later.” He grabbed up his suit jacket and rushed from the room.

Erin could have cheerfully shaken him. The least he could have done was warn her! She snatched up the folder, clasped it to her chest and turned around. “Well, Mr. Carlson, it looks as if you’re stuck with me for your interview. I’ll do my best to answer your questions, but—as you’ve probably guessed—I’m surprised by this assignment and therefore ill-prepared.”

“That makes two of us that are surprised, Ms. Kelly.” David Carlson’s gaze lowered to her hands holding the file.

Erin’s breath caught. He was checking for a ring. A Romeo? Her caution reflexes snapped into high gear.

His gaze lifted back up to meet hers and he smiled. “And, speaking for myself, very pleasantly surprised. I’ll take dining with a lovely young lady rather than an irascible old man every time.”

Smooth, Mr. Carlson, very smooth—but then practice makes perfect. Disappointment filtered through the remnant of that odd stillness. “Dining?”

David Carlson’s smile spread into a slow grin. “It’s a luncheon appointment.”

David felt like he’d taken a hard right to the stomach. The punch had landed when he’d first looked down into Erin Kelly’s big, dark-green eyes, and it left him taut-muscled and breathless.

David frowned, motioned to the busy hostess and, at her nod, guided Erin to his favorite table at Carlo’s Villa. He’d been looking forward to a plate of chicken marsala—now he wasn’t sure he could eat. His appetite was gone. All he really wanted was to run his fingers through the smooth, thick mass of hair framing Erin Kelly’s lovely face. Her hair was the deep red-brown color of the chili powder in his kitchen cupboard.

“Thank you.” Erin smiled up at him and slid onto the chair he held for her.

David’s fingers tightened on the top rail. Her smile had the same effect as her beautiful eyes. He nodded, cleared his throat and went to take his own seat.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Carlson.” The server placed a glass of ice water trimmed with twin slices of lemon and lime in front of each of them, then laid dark-blue menus edged with gold on the burgundy-and-gray striped tablecloth. “Would you care for something to drink while you decide on your meals? Perhaps a light wine?”

“Erin?”

“No, thank you. The water is fine for me.”

David gave a mental whew! He was close to punch drunk from looking at her. He didn’t need alcohol. “I’ll have a lemonade.”

“Very good, sir. I’ll be back with it shortly.”

David glanced at his menu, then pushed it aside and feasted on the sight of Erin studying hers. She lifted her head and caught him watching her. Her eyes clouded. So she was wary of being interviewed.

“Have you decided?”

Her hair shimmered in the light streaming through the window as she nodded. She looked down and closed her menu. When she looked up, the shadow in her eyes was gone. “I’ll have antipasto…and bread sticks.” She gave a rueful smile. “I can’t resist their bread sticks.”

David grinned. “I know what you mean.” He leaned back against his chair and set himself to put her at ease. “So, Erin Kelly, what part of Ireland are your ancestors from?”

She gave a little shrug. “I don’t know. That information was never passed on.” She smiled and reached for her glass. “I have a suspicion the earliest Kelly to reach America’s shores didn’t want that knowledge made public.”

“Aha! Skeletons!” David rubbed his hands together.

Erin laughed. “Careful. Your reporter radar is showing.” She took a swallow of water and put her glass down. “What about you? Where do your people come from?”

“I have no idea. I’m just glad they had the good sense to come here.”

“Amen to that.”

She sounded sincere and utterly natural. Was she religious? David’s smile faded. It was the first flat note struck since he’d met her.

“Your lemonade, Mr. Carlson.” The server placed it in front of him, then gathered the menus under his arm. “And your order?”

David glanced at Erin. She nodded. He looked back at the server. “We’ll have the antipasto tray with choice of dressings on the side. Bread sticks—” he smiled “—double up on the bread sticks. And minestrone for me. Erin?” She held up her hand with the thumb and forefinger only an inch or so apart. He nodded. “Make that two minestrones—one large, one small.”

“Very good, sir.” The server hurried away.

David took a swallow of his drink, then put down his glass and leaned forward. “Professor Stiles seems like quite a character. Do you enjoy working with him?” Her face warmed. It was the only way he could describe it. He knew before she spoke she admired Robert Stiles.

“Yes, I do. Very much. I know he seems rather a cliché character—you know, rough exterior, heart of gold—but in his case it’s absolutely true. He started the center, and he fights like a lion when anyone threatens to stop funding the literacy program. Our slogan is When You Open A Book, You Open The World. That’s why this grant is so important. You have no idea how many adults there are who cannot read or write—or do so at a minimal level.”

She looked fully into his eyes, and for a moment he lost the thread of the conversation.

“—and when a person can read and write their possibilities are endless. At the center we see these adults go from hopeless to hopeful.” Suddenly she stopped. “I’m sorry, Mr. Carlson. I didn’t mean to make a speech.”

David put on a mock frown. “That’s David, remember? We agreed on that earlier. But, to get back to the point—please don’t apologize. I like people who are passionate about the things they believe in.” He gave her his most charming smile. “I think there’s a little of the lion in you, too, when it comes to the literacy program.”

“Perhaps so. It’s very important to me.”

David stared at her, taken aback by the quiet acknowledgment. He wasn’t accustomed to having his openings for a little flirting ignored. He took another tack. “Professor Stiles said you were the program coordinator. I’m not familiar with the way the program is set up. Is that a paid position?”

“It will be starting in July—thanks to the grant. At the moment no one in the program is salaried. It’s all volunteer. Our funds have been used only for needed teaching supplies.”

“What about rent?”

“Professor Stiles owns the building we use and he doesn’t take a dime for rent. He even pays the taxes out of his own pocket.” Affection warmed her smile. “I told you he has a heart of gold.”

Or a comfortable tax writeoff. That would have to be investigated. David took another swallow of lemonade, then leaned back out of the way while the server returned and placed their food on the table. When the man left, David laid his napkin over his leg, filled his plate from the antipasto tray and drizzled dressing over it. “I know Professor Stiles works at the university, but what about you, Erin? Since you’ve been volunteering all your time and talent, you must be one of the idle rich.”

Her laughter sounded like music.

“I’m afraid not.” She looked up from fixing her plate. “I’ve only been able to volunteer at Westwood a few evenings a week. But that will all change now. School will be out in three weeks, and I’ll begin full-time work at the center.”

“School?” David lifted the wicker basket, folded back the napkin and held the basket out to Erin. “You’re a teacher?”

She nodded, took a bread stick and broke it in half before putting it on her bread plate. “I teach kindergarten at Living Hope Christian School.”

The moment turned sour—not to mention his stomach. “I’m sure that’s very rewarding.” It was a lame response, but it was the best he could dredge up.

“Yes, it is.” She gave him a long, measuring look, then bowed her head.

She was saying grace! David resisted the urge to get up and walk away. He set the basket down, sliced off a bite of prosciutto, stabbed it with his fork, then added a sliver of green pepper and began to eat.

Erin lifted her head and their gazes met. David ignored the reactive quickening of his pulse and turned all business. He wanted to wrap up this interview, say goodbye and bolt out the door. It was a good thing she had insisted on driving her own car—they could go their separate ways when the meal was over. “I think I’ll find enough general information about the center in the brochure you gave me, Erin. Why don’t you tell me about the grant.”

Erin opened her car door, then turned and swept her gaze over the stucco and beam exterior of Carlo’s Villa. She wasn’t used to eating leisurely business lunches in fancy restaurants—she belonged to the “grab a sandwich and get back to work” crowd. And that’s exactly what she needed to do—get back to work.

Erin slid into the driver’s seat, secured her seatbelt, switched on the ignition and looked in the rearview mirror. A man and woman, standing beside a car in the row directly behind her, were locked in a passionate kiss. The man ran his hand over the woman’s body, pressing her close against him.

Erin jerked her gaze away, shifted into Reverse and looked over her shoulder as she backed out. The man stopped whatever he was doing to the woman’s neck and lifted his head to glance toward the moving vehicle.

Jerry!

Erin gasped. Of its own volition, her foot jammed on the brakes and the car jolted to a stop. The woman turned her head to look. Dr. Swan’s new receptionist!

Erin’s stomach knotted. She whipped around to face front, locking her gaze on the mirror. Jerry mouthed something to the young woman, and they resumed their embrace with increased ardor. Erin swallowed back a surge of nausea, shifted gears and drove away. All thought of her pleasant lunch disappeared as a wave of anger washed over her at seeing her sister’s live-in boyfriend with another woman.

Chapter Two

“You were off your game big-time tonight, Dave. The ‘Tiger’ didn’t show up, you were more like a pussycat.”

David yanked the towel from around his neck, scrubbed it over his still damp hair and glanced at Ted. “Is that right?”

“It sure is.” Ted jammed his own towel in his duffel bag. “Your concentration was way off. What’s up?”

“Nothing. I just had a bad night.”

“Yeah, right. That excuse might work for mere mortals, but you, my friend—” David braced himself for the solid thump that hit his shoulder “—you need a better reason. Anything I can help with?”

“Nope.” David pulled his T-shirt on and stuffed it into his jeans. “Not unless you’ve turned into an expert on women.”

“Oh?” Ted’s eyebrows raised, a grin spread across his face. “You’re asking me for advice about women? How the mighty are fallen!” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m going to enjoy this! So spill it. Just what is the difficulty between you and the illustrious model?”

David shot him a look. “Her name is Brandee. And she’s not the problem. I met a woman I can’t get out of my mind, that’s all. Hence my lack of concentration—” he thumped Ted back “—and your bogus win.”

“That’s as good an excuse as any.” Ted’s grin slipped into a frown. “I thought you and Brandee only dated for mutual professional benefit—that you were each free to see others.”

“True.”

“So what’s the problem?” Ted leveled his “lawyer look” on him. “Why don’t you just call this other woman? Is she married?”

“No.” David scowled. “She’s religious.”

“Ouch!”

He nodded. “My feelings exactly. Now it’s time for me to go home and put the finishing touches on tomorrow’s column. Why don’t you go chase an ambulance and drum up some legal business? Unless you want to get a pizza or something?”

Ted’s grin returned. “No can do, Tiger. I’m booked for the night. And believe me, when I leave here, it isn’t an ambulance I’ll be chasing after.”

David laughed and crammed his playing clothes in his gym bag along with his damp towel. “How is Darlene?”

Ted zipped his bag. “Fantastic! I proposed last Saturday.”

“Wow! I didn’t see that one coming.” David lifted out his shoes and slammed his locker door. He turned and stared at his lifelong friend. “What happened to ‘Mr. Confirmed Bachelor’?”

Ted laughed. “He took one look at Darlene and died a sudden death. When it’s right—it’s right.” He sobered. “There’s no way I can fight what I feel for her, Dave. I don’t even want to try.”

“That’s great, Ted.” David stuck out his hand. “Congratulations.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Ted shook hands, then shifted his stance. “Looks like it’s going to be a no-holds-barred wedding. Will you be best man?”

David gave him a crooked grin. “What do you mean, ‘will I be’? I always have been.”

Ted snorted. “Not in Darlene’s eyes—and that’s all that matters.” He picked up his bag and headed for the door. “I’ll tell her you said yes and she can scratch you off the ‘things to be done for the wedding’ list.” He pulled open the door, stepped outside, then hesitated. “See you next Wednesday. And make sure the ‘Tiger’ shows up, okay? I like a little competition.”

David threw his shoe at him. He wasn’t quick enough. The shoe crashed against the closed door. He grinned, grabbed his other shoe and cocked his arm. He didn’t have long to wait. The door eased open and Ted stuck his head through the crack. David let the shoe fly.

“Whoa!”

Ted’s head disappeared behind the door. The shoe sailed through the narrow opening into the hallway. David laughed. Not a bad shot.

A moment later the door opened wide and a grinning Ted tossed his shoe back to him. “Told you you’re off your game tonight, pal. That woman must really be something!” The door closed on his laughter.

David shook his head, retrieved his other shoe and sat on the bench to put them on. Erin Kelly was “really something,” but not for him. He frowned and shifted his thoughts to his friend. Ted married!

David gave a disbelieving snort, zipped his bag and left the locker room. He might have been off his game, but he’d worked up an appetite just the same.

“The penny glee…aaams.”

“Not quite, Amber.” Erin smiled at the teenager sitting beside her. “Remember the rule. When there are two vowels, the first vowel says its own name and the second vowel is silent.”

The girl nodded her head, then bent forward over the children’s reading book. Her forehead furrowed in concentration. “The penny glee…mmms. Gleems!”

“That’s right! Good job, Amber.” Erin’s heart swelled as the teenager lifted her head and smiled. “Friday night we’ll start a new book.” Erin smiled encouragement. “You’ll be reading and writing with the best of us in no time. I promise.”

The tension in the girl’s face eased. She nodded, and rose to her feet. “I hope so. I need to learn to read so I can get a better job. Doing dishes in a restaurant doesn’t pay enough to live on, and I’ll be on my own when I graduate this month. I don’t know what good school did me!” She shrugged and tugged her purse strap over her shoulder. “Thanks for your help, Miss Kelly. I’ll see you Friday.”

“You’re welcome, Amber. Good night.” Erin picked up the child’s reading book they’d been using and carried it to the cupboard.

“Miss Kelly? Will you help me with this word? I don’t think it obeys the rules you taught me.”

Erin turned and smiled at the frustrated fourteen-year-old. “Sometimes words don’t obey rules, Janine. Let me see. Oh. You can do this one.” She put her hand on the teenager’s shoulder urging her forward. “Let’s go sit at the table and I’ll help you figure it out.”

Almost ten o’clock. Another long day. And she still had papers to correct. Erin dropped her shoulder bag on the couch, slid her feet out of her pumps and wiggled her toes into the carpet. Wonderful! What was it about taking your shoes off? She could almost purr.

Erin reached for the TV remote resting on the coffee table beside the framed picture of Alayne she’d requested for her birthday a few weeks ago. She picked up the picture and studied her sister’s face. Alayne was smiling in the photograph, but there was unhappiness in her eyes. Did she know about Jerry’s affair?

Erin frowned. If only she could talk with Alayne about it. If only she could talk to their mom and dad about it! But that was out of the question. The familiar sadness swept through her. Erin sighed, put down the picture, picked up the remote and clicked on the TV. All she could do was wait and make herself available.

Piano music filled the room. Erin sank down onto the couch closing her eyes as a voice started touting a concert in the city. What would it feel like to play like that?

“A Channel Four News exclusive! This is Robert Sheffield reporting live. Only minutes ago there was a shooting here on Humbard Street—”

Erin opened her eyes. The flashing lights of an ambulance and two police cars blinked behind the man on her TV screen.

“—We’ve been unable to talk with police and obtain details as yet, but initial reports place two witnesses on the scene at the time of the shooting. And as you can see…” The reporter stepped aside, giving a graphic description of the scene while the TV camera panned to the sidewalk across the street. Two men knelt beside a body.

“Ugh! Sorry, Robert Sheffield, but this is nothing I want to see.” Erin reached for the remote, then stopped when she caught sight of two men standing with a policeman in a darkened doorway in the background. Poor men. They must be the eyewitnesses. What a horrible experience!

A flash of brilliance from the rotating light of the ambulance swept across the recessed entrance highlighting the men’s faces for a moment and Erin jerked forward. That was David Carlson! She stared at the man on the left. She must be wrong about the witness thing. He was probably just covering the story for The Herald. But he wasn’t talking to anyone. He was just standing there. She leaned closer to the TV, watching David.

Suddenly a hand appeared, and the screen went black. A voice, obviously connected to the hand covering the lens, ordered someone to turn the camera off. There was an indistinguishable mumble in reply, and a moment later the hand was removed, revealing the reporter standing in front of the Channel Four News van. “This concludes our live coverage at this time. We’ll have updates as details become avail—”

Erin snatched up the remote, clicked the TV off and leaned back against the couch. David Carlson. She had enjoyed the time she spent with him, which was unusual because she was always so tense around men. It was probably his professional interviewing skills that had made her relax. Of course, it helped that his behavior had been impeccable. He’d been polite and nice. And he was so intelligent.

Erin bent down, scooped up her shoes and headed upstairs to change into comfortable clothes. Why was she thinking about how nice David Carlson seemed? She’d never see him again—except occasionally on TV. She pursed her lips in speculation. She could be wrong, but it sure looked as if he’d witnessed that shooting. For his sake she hoped not.

David unlocked his door and stepped into his entrance hall. The leather globe light, suspended from the plastered ceiling, shone onto the objects atop the red-lacquered chest below it. He dropped his keys into the brass bowl, then tugged his necktie loose and moved down the two steps into the living room.

It had been quite a day. Witnessing that shooting had shaken him more than he cared to admit. He’d never seen a man’s life snuffed out in the space of a moment before. He’d almost lost his dinner. And then there was the police questioning, and his own limited account of the story to write for the paper. Too bad he had to report in general terms. This story could have been his big break. Maybe it still could be.

David rotated the tension from his neck and shoulders, then flipped the switch that turned on the indirect lighting and punched the button on his answering machine.

“David, darling? Are you there? It’s after eight.” A tiny bit of impatience crept into Brandee Rogers’s honeyed tones. “I thought you’d be home by now. Even reporters— Oh, never mind. I’m calling because I want you to take me to Charlene’s this Saturday night. She’s having one of her fabulous spur-of-the-moment parties, and you know everyone who is anyone in town will be trying to wrangle an invitation. I happened to run into her at lunch today so I’m in. And so are you, darling. She made a point of mentioning you. I’m jealous.”

David frowned at the coy words and tone. He could almost see Brandee’s full lower lip sticking out in an affected pout. She was getting a little too possessive. Maybe he should call a halt to—

“Call me, darling, and I’ll give you all the particulars.” She gave a throaty laugh. “Well, maybe not all of them. Wait until you see me in my new dress. Byeeee.”

Or maybe not. David lifted his hand and rubbed the muscles at the nape of his neck. Brandee might be using him to polish up her social image, but it didn’t do his prestige any harm to have a beautiful model draped on his arm either. And you never knew who would show up at Charlene’s parties. She definitely traveled with the high crowd. Saturday night was a must. So why didn’t he feel his usual enthusiasm? Was it because he couldn’t get a cloud of dark red hair and a pair of beautiful green eyes out of his mind? Let alone the power-packed smile that went with them.

David frowned, leaped the two steps up into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator door. He hadn’t been able to get Erin Kelly out of his mind all week. She’d even cost him his Wednesday night handball game with Ted.

David scowled and poured himself a glass of orange juice. He’d dated quite a few women, but none of them had attached themselves so firmly to his thoughts that he couldn’t concentrate. That had never happened before.

When it’s right—it’s right.

Ted’s words set his teeth on edge. “Buddy, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Erin Kelly is definitely not right for me. So you and Ms. Kelly can both get out of my head!”

David guzzled the orange juice, rinsed the glass, then stuck it in the dishwasher and grabbed the handset from the kitchen phone. He was in a lousy mood tonight, but he knew the cure. He pushed a button with his thumb.

“Hello?”

That breathy thing she did with her voice suddenly seemed irritating. He scowled. “Hello, Brandee.”

“David, darling! You got my message?”

“Yes. That’s why I’m calling.” David put his odd mood down to the residue of emotion left over from the shooting and forced a light note into his voice. “I’m looking forward to seeing you in that dress Saturday night.”

Chapter Three

Erin frowned down at the paper she was correcting, glanced at the little boy in the third row and pursed her lips. There had to be a reason for the error, he was one of her brightest students. He never made a mistake when it came to choosing the correct vowel to make a word. “Michael, would you come here for a moment please?”

The blond head lifted instantly. The five-year-old put down his pencil and hurried up to her desk. She motioned for him to come stand beside her. “Michael, this is your paper. Would you read the word with the vowel you’ve chosen please?”

“Buke.”

“And what would it be with the other vowel choice?”

“Bike.”

“That’s right. Now, which one do you want to choose?”

“Buke.”

Erin studied Michael’s face for a moment. He was dead serious. Why would he choose the u instead of the i? “Use buke in a sentence, Michael.”

“When I’m bad, my daddy bukes me.”

Ah! Erin fought back a grin. “That’s rebukes, Michael. When you’re bad, your daddy rebukes you.”

“Oh.” Michael’s little blond eyebrows drew together and he pointed at the paper. “Then that’s wrong. Can I change it?”

“May I change it?” Erin gave him a hug. “Yes, you may.” She handed him the paper. “Bring it back when you’ve corrected it.” She watched Michael scurry back to his desk, then rose and hurried from the room as her suppressed mirth threatened to break free.

“Erin?”

She glanced toward the office. Betty Fowler motioned her to come in. “You have a telephone call.”

David slipped his cell phone into his suit coat pocket. That was that. Erin Kelly would meet him at the Oak Street Diner at four-thirty to answer the rest of his questions about Professor Stiles’s literacy program. Too bad all the people he had to interview for stories weren’t that polite, pleasant or accommodating. Or soft spoken. A smile curved his lips. Erin Kelly had a great voice. And fantastic looks. Those eyes of hers—

Hold up, buddy! Don’t travel down that road. It doesn’t matter how attractive or nice Erin Kelly is—she’s not for you. Not with that religious baggage she’s carrying around!

David shook his head, checked traffic and ran across Bartlett Street to Domingo’s. Given the strength of his attraction to Erin Kelly, it was a good thing he’d only asked her to meet him for coffee. Twenty minutes tops, and he’d be out of there. Then he’d never see Erin Kelly again. But that was later. Right now he had a few questions to ask Danny Arcano about that shooting the other night. Danny always knew the talk on the streets.

David focused his attention on the job at hand, shoved open the door of the bar and stepped into the dark interior.

No matter how Erin tried to calm herself, nerves flittered in her stomach. She knew she was being silly. This wasn’t personal. David Carlson only wanted to ask her some questions. Still…the flitters increased.

Erin scowled, took a quick peek in the visor mirror and pushed her hair back behind her ears. It didn’t help much, but without a comb it would have to do. Why didn’t she carry a purse like other women! She stared at the pink her nervous tension brought to her cheeks and wrinkled her nose in distaste. At least she didn’t have to worry about being pale. She looked like a clown.

Erin flipped the visor up in disgust, reached into the ashtray for the lip balm she used to keep her lips soft and moist and spread it on. Maybe she should use it on her tongue, too—her mouth was so dry she could hardly swallow. Relax! You handled the first interview well.

She gave an unladylike snort. Like that was the reason she was tense! It was the thought of David Carlson that made her nervous. She’d never reacted to a man the way she had to him. When their gazes had met that first time, and he’d taken hold of her hand—

Okay. Enough of the foolishness! She was ready. Erin glanced down at her melon-colored jacket dress, sighed and climbed from the car. Why hadn’t she worn her new, flax-colored suit today, which made her look older, more professional? Because she didn’t know David Carlson would call and ask her to meet him for coffee after work.

And there went those flitters again. Stop it! It’s only a business appointment. Erin frowned, crossed the parking lot and reached for the chrome bar on the diner’s blue-painted door as she stepped into the canopied entrance.

“Allow me.”

Erin jerked sideways and glanced up straight into David Carlson’s smiling face. He must have been waiting for her. Had he seen her primping in the car? She turned away as the telltale warmth of embarrassment crept into her cheeks. So much for presenting a professional demeanor.

“A dollar for your thoughts.” David reached around in front of her and pulled the door open.

“A dollar?” Erin stepped into the diner. “That’s generous of you.” She slanted a look at him. “Last I knew, thoughts were only worth a penny.”

“Inflation.” David followed her inside. “Besides, you looked so serious, your thoughts are probably worth more than a dollar.” He ushered her to a booth by a window. “Did you have a hard day at work?”

Erin shook her head and slid onto the red vinyl bench seat. “I never have a hard day. I love my job. The children are wonderful.” She looked over at him, feeling more at ease with the width of the aluminum-edged table between them. “How about you?”

“Well, I can’t say I never have a hard day.” His lips twisted into a wry smile. “Not everyone appreciates the job I do. In fact some of them get downright nasty when I’m investigating a story they’re involved in. But, like you, I love my work—in spite of the rough situations I occasionally encounter.”

“Are you ready to order?”

Order? We just sat down! Erin glanced up at the young server. The teenager was staring at David and practically drooling on her order pad. So that was it. Well, she could certainly understand. David Carlson was hands down the most handsome man she’d ever seen. She cleared her throat to get the girl’s attention. “I’ll have an unsweetened iced tea with lemon, please.” The girl’s gaze didn’t so much as flicker in her direction. She might as well have been mute and invisible.

“Make mine coffee—hot and black.”

The girl smiled at David and wrote it down. “Is that all? Are you sure there’s nothing else I can get for you? The menu’s there on the table.” She gestured, but didn’t take her eyes off David. “I’ll wait if you need more time.”

The girl was all but cooing at him! Erin ducked her head and stared down at her lap, freeing David to respond to the teenager’s blatant flirting, if he so chose.

“Only the coffee and iced tea with lemon, thank you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Erin watched the server walk over to the counter, hips swinging seductively.

“You can come up for air now.”

So he’d been aware of what she was doing! She lifted her head and met David’s gaze head-on.

“I’m sorry, Erin, that was awkward.” His lips tilted in a rueful smile. “She’s young.”

He sounded kind and a tiny bit embarrassed, which—she knew perfectly well—meant absolutely nothing. Men were such liars. She gave him a cool look. “Yes, she is. Anyway, it’s over—until she comes back.”

David folded his arms across his chest, relaxed back against the seat and fastened his gaze on her. “That sounds a little skeptical. I’m surprised. Cynicism doesn’t fit you, Erin.” He shifted his position toward her and lowered his voice. “You don’t think I’m going to respond to her flirting, do you? She must be ten years my junior!”

That doesn’t stop Jerry! Erin’s skin prickled with anger. She yanked her thoughts back to David. “I have a sinister side to my nature.”

“Sinister? If you think that’s sinister, you need to read the newspaper more often.” He sat back and grinned. “I can recommend a good column.”

His grin was contagious. Erin smiled in response, then reached up to tuck the hair that had swung free back behind her ear. Professional, remember? Keep it professional. “Speaking of your column—you had some questions you wanted to ask me?”

David’s eyebrows rose. He stared across the table at her, and the intensity of his scrutiny made her want to get up and walk away. After a moment, his lips spread in a smile that trapped the breath in her lungs. “Business only, huh? You’re an enigma, Erin Kelly. But I’m not an investigative reporter for nothing. I’ll figure you out. Now, about the questions.”

Erin’s breath released a gust of relief as David shifted gears. She could hold her own with the reporter side of him—it was the man that knocked her off-kilter.

“When we first talked about the center, Erin, you said I would be surprised at the number of adults that can’t read—or words to that effect. Are there really that many?”

She gave an emphatic nod, relieved to be on solid professional ground. “The number is shocking. And I can’t tell you the negative impact it has on their lives! They get stuck in low-paying jobs, which often leads to less-than-desirable low-income housing options. And, even then they have to accept help from the state simply to buy groceries. Their self-esteem suffers and—”

David’s lips curved upward.

Erin stiffened. “You find that amusing?”

He shook his head. “No. I find that disturbing. But I also find myself admiring your wrath on behalf of the center’s clients and those sparks of anger flashing in your dark green eyes.” His gaze locked on hers. “You really are passionate about this problem.”

Thankfully, the server chose that moment to bring their drinks, because Erin couldn’t speak. Her numb-struck mind couldn’t think of an adequate reply. It had stalled on the fact that David Carlson said he admired her, and the altogether foolish and inappropriate response of her wildly fluttering heart.

Erin frowned at the ringing phone. This was the third call. She was never going to get these papers graded by tomorrow! She dropped her pen and lifted the handset. “Hello?”

“Hi, Boots! Where were you? I tried to get hold of you after work.”

The dilemma she’d been struggling with ever since she’d witnessed Jerry’s infidelity hit Erin full force at the sound of her sister’s voice. She sagged back into her favorite overstuffed chair, burning with the desire to tell Alayne about Jerry’s behavior, and certain it would only widen the chasm in their family if she did. “Sorry, Alayne. I had coffee with David Carlson at that little diner on Oak Street, then grabbed some pizza and went straight to the center. What did you want?” She must know. The receptionist works in the same office!

“Who cares?” Excitement sizzled out of the phone. “You had coffee with David Carlson the reporter? The one who’s on Channel Four News every once in awhile? Way to go, Erin! That guy’s scrumptious! And he’s on his way up, too.” Her older sister’s voice was flooded with admiration. “Not only is he great at his job, but from all I hear, he knows how to play the ‘climbing the social ladder to success’ game with the best of them. So, what’s he like?”

Erin pushed aside her dilemma and focused on the conversation. “He’s intelligent. And polite and charming.” Far too charming! “And funny—in a nice sort of way, nothing off-color or suggestive.”

“He sounds perfect for you. Did he ask you out again?”

Erin let out an exasperated sigh. “He didn’t ask me out this time. It wasn’t a date, Alayne. He just had some questions about the literacy program. He’s going to do a story about the center for his features column. You know, the long column that runs every Saturday.”

“My mistake. Sorry, Boots. I thought maybe you had finally— Never mind. It’s probably just as well it wasn’t a date.” Alayne’s voice took on a protective tone. “David Carlson is a lady-killer for sure. And he’s no—”

Erin winced as her sister chopped off her words. “No what?”

“No…choir boy. Not that I’ve heard anything bad about him, but you’re not used to moving in his circles, you’d be no match for him. Look, I’ve got to go, Boots. We’re at the club and Jerry’s pulling into a parking place. I’ll be in touch. Bye.”

The phone went dead.

“Alayne, you’re so blind!” Erin dropped the handset onto the cushion and surged to her feet. Nothing had changed. Alayne still thought being a Christian made you weak and vulnerable. Well, she would never become involved with a lying, cheating woman chaser like Jerry! And that included David Carlson!

Lady-killer. She could believe that from the way he had handed her that smooth line about “sparks” in her dark-green eyes! Sparks. Hah!

Erin stalked out to the mirror above the chest in the entrance hall, switched on the lamp and studied her reflection. Her eyes were an unusual dark green—almost the color of the leaves on the rhododendron bush by her front walk—but there were no “sparks” in them. That was just a sample of the glib compliments handed out by men to disarm woman. She knew that. So why was she staring in the mirror?

Erin turned away in disgust. No choir boy…you’d be no match for him. That was ridiculous! David Carlson may be the most handsome and charming man she’d ever met, but she didn’t trust him any more than any other man. She’d learned the folly of trusting a man—even seemingly nice, respectable ones—seven years ago. After all, Mr. Gorseman had been one of the best liked teachers in high school.

I’m sure you did the experiment, Erin, but, unfortunately, it’s missing. Meet me in the lab after school and I’ll let you repeat it.

A chill chased down Erin’s spine. How naive and trusting she’d been then. She’d believed Mr. Gorseman’s lie and gone in all innocence to meet him. And if Alayne—who came looking for her—hadn’t heard a noise and looked in the window of the locked and darkened science room to see Mr. Gorseman poised atop her on the lab table, he would have succeeded in his plan to rape her. And she—unconscious from the drug he’d put in the soda he’d given her—would never have known exactly what happened or who did it.

A deep shudder shook her. Erin wrapped her arms about herself and leaned against the chest, waiting for the reaction to pass. If only he’d been found guilty. But he’d lied his way out of it. At the inquiry, he denied her charge and explained her unconscious state by saying she’d been careless in handling the noxious chemicals in the experiment and had been overcome by fumes. He refuted Alayne’s charge by saying she was mistaken and overwrought, that he’d been trying to help Erin when Alayne started beating on the door. And he explained the locked door away by saying she, Erin, had a “crush” on him and must have locked it so they would be alone. It was his lies against their truth—and he was a beloved and respected teacher. All charges had been dropped.

Erin’s hands tightened around her upper arms, digging her fingertips into the soft flesh. It was that experience that had destroyed Alayne’s trust in God and ultimately split their family. It was the reason she, herself, was so wary and distrustful of men that she’d never been able to have a successful relationship.

Erin frowned and walked back into the living room. She didn’t want to be that way. She wanted to fall in love and marry and have children. She’d even dated a few times. But when a man showed interest in becoming close, when he tried to hold her or kiss her, she panicked, her defenses kicked in and she stopped seeing him. She knew it was foolish, but she couldn’t help herself.

Erin sighed, sat down in the chair and picked up her pen to finish grading the papers. Maybe someday she would find a man she could trust and fall in love with, but it wouldn’t be a “lady-killer” like David Carlson. No matter how he made her feel!

David opened the folder, stared down at the phone number he’d scrawled on the inside of the cover then closed it again. Was it too late to call? He checked his watch. It wasn’t quite eleven. He reached for the portable phone, then drew his hand back and walked away from his desk. It didn’t matter what time it was—no time would be the right time to call Erin Kelly.

David scowled and scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Get out of my head, woman! I’m not calling you now or ever!”

He walked over to the window and stared out into the night feeling edgy and aggravated. Just the thought of religion had that effect on him. He’d had enough of it from his missionary father to last him a lifetime. He knew what it felt like to be ignored and unwanted by a religious zealot. He’d lived his life that way. He didn’t need that from anyone else—certainly not a woman. So why couldn’t he forget about Erin Kelly? Why did she stick like a burr to his consciousness?

“Aaah!” David strode over to the door, snapped off the study lights then immediately flipped them back on when the phone rang. His pulse quickened as he strode to his desk. Maybe this was a breaking story. A big story. He snatched up the receiver. “David Carlson.”

“I saw you on TV with that cop. Don’t ID the shooter. Bad things happen to guys with big mouths.”

“Who is—?” The receiver went dead. David stared at it for a moment, debating calling the cops. But one thing he’d learned as a reporter—people got their kicks in strange ways. Like making crank calls. This guy was probably yet another of those wackos. And if the cops tapped his phone and his informants found out about it…

David hung up the receiver, turned off the lights again then headed for the kitchen to get a glass of juice before it was time to switch on the TV and watch the news. His lips curled into a smile as he jumped the two steps and walked to the refrigerator. Someday he would be the reporter holding the microphone and smiling into the camera. He was close to making that goal come true. He’d already made the right contacts. All he needed was that one big story!

Chapter Four

Hmm, let’s see…poster boards, markers, letter stencils and tracing paper—that should do it. Now all she needed was some manila folders and she was finished shopping. Erin wheeled the cart down the next aisle, picked up the folders and headed for the checkout.

“Did you find everything you wanted today?”

“Yes, thank you.” She smiled at the cashier and lifted the items out of the cart onto the counter.

“Cash or charge?”

“Charge.” She reached into her pocket.

“Erin?”

David Carlson. Erin’s pulse stuttered. It had been two weeks, but she’d know that rich, baritone voice anywhere. She arranged her features into a polite smile and turned. “Hello, Mr. Carlson.”

“That’s David.” He inclined his head toward the items the clerk was putting into a plastic bag. “Looks like you’ve got a big project coming up.”

“Yes.” She handed the woman the school’s credit card. “The children learned about animals from the different areas of our country this year, and we’re going to make posters about them to decorate our room for graduation.” She signed her name to the slip, then slid the card and the receipt in her jeans pocket.

“Sounds like fun.”

“I think the children will enjoy it.” She gave him a polite smile. “Nice seeing you again.” She lifted the bag off the counter, and the large poster boards promptly flopped out onto the floor. “Oops!”

David stooped and picked up the boards. “Slippery things, plastic bags. I’ll carry these for you.”

“That’s very kind, but—” she stretched out her hand “—I don’t want to be a bother.”

“No bother.” David tucked the posters under his arm, paid for the ink cartridge he was buying and followed her out the door. “Where’s your car?”

“Across the street. I like to walk in the park when I’m finished shopping.” She hurried her steps.

“That sounds like a good idea. Would you mind if I joined you?”

Did he think—? Erin jerked her head sideways to look at him. She’d disabuse him of that notion right now! “You don’t have to do that. I wasn’t hinting. I really do walk in the park whenever I come shopping.” She stopped beside her car and pushed the button on her key to unlock the trunk.

“I believe you.” David smiled down at her. “And even if you were hinting, I wouldn’t have asked to join you unless I wanted to.” His smile spread into a slow grin that paralyzed her lungs. “I was going to call and tell you I’ve finished the piece about the center and the new grant, but this way I get to tell you in person. The piece will be in the paper this Saturday.”

“Wonderful! Professor Stiles will be so pleased.” Erin put her shopping bag into the trunk. All right, Mr. Carlson, message received! You can take your charming grin and leave any time now, so I can start breathing normally again.

“Aha! What’s this I see? A word game?” David picked up the box he’d moved aside to make room for the poster boards.

Erin nodded. “I play it with the children. You’d be surprised at how quickly a five-year-old can catch on to the concept of crosswords.” She busied herself tying the handles of the plastic bag together so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

“I’ll bet you always win.”

“Well, of course I would if we played that way!” Erin shot David an annoyed look. What sort of teacher did he think she was pitting her wisdom against the children’s? He was grinning again. Hot blood swamped her cheeks. He’d been teasing her—and she’d risen to the bait. His grin widened when their gazes met and she went breathless again. Where was a paper bag when you needed one!

“How are you against someone your own age?”

“I beg your pardon?” He couldn’t mean—

“I challenge you to a game. Right here and now—on that table in the park.” David pointed. “But before you accept, remember—I’m a reporter. Words are my business. I never lose at word games.”

“Oh no?” Erin’s lungs started to function correctly. This she could handle! She smiled. “I believe you may have just opened yourself up for your first loss, Mr. Carlson.”

His eyes crinkled with amusement. “Because I’ll be playing against you?” He reached out and gripped the trunk lid with his free hand.

Erin shook her head. “No. Because God’s word says, ‘Pride goeth before destruction,’ and that warning you gave me sounded suspiciously like pride to me.”

“I see.” David studied her for a moment, then gave the box he held a shake that rattled the tiles inside. “And I say, that you, Miss Kelly, do not know the difference between pride and certainty.”

“Really?” Erin tipped her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at him, relieved that, for whatever reason, his high-voltage grin had faded into a low-amp smile. “And I say, you’re ready to take a tumble, Mr. Carlson. I accept your challenge.”

“Good!” The trunk lid thudded down, emphasizing the word. “Have you eaten?”

Erin shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Do you like subs?”

She nodded. “Yes, but—”

“Great!” He handed her the box. “You set up the game, while I run across the street and get a couple of subs—my treat. What’s your pleasure?”

She stared at him a moment, then acquiesced. She was hungry. “A half ham and cheese—easy on the oil.”

“Soda to drink?”

Not since Mr. Gorseman had drugged hers. She suppressed a shudder and shook her head. “I’ll have coffee and a chocolate-chip cookie.”

David’s grin returned. “A woman after my own taste buds! Okay, you’ve got it.” He pivoted.

“Wait!” She gave him an apologetic smile when he turned back. “I forgot to tell you I want three creamers with the coffee.”

“Three!” David gave her a look of absolute horror. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get you a cup of milk and just have them toss a spoonful of coffee in it?”

She grinned at his teasing. “Don’t be a coffee snob, David. I happen to like it that way. Three creamers.”

He gave an exaggerated shudder. “All right. To each their own. But it’s sacrilege.”

Erin watched him jog across the road, then turned and headed for the picnic table, not quite certain what had just happened. David Carlson was too charming for her own good. He had breached her defensive walls. But one simple word game in a public park couldn’t hurt.

“Ah, I’ve got one—torose.” David laid down his tiles. “Now, with the s added to graze and on a double-word square that will be forty-four points.”

“Wait a minute!” Erin laughed and shook her head. “I’ve never heard of torose. Use it in a sentence.”

David raised his left eyebrow and gave her a diabolical grin. “Are you challenging me, Miss Kelly?”

She lifted both her hands into the air in a gesture of surrender. “I don’t dare challenge you, Mr. Carlson. I learned my lesson on retene.” She gave a little laugh that reminded him of water flowing swiftly over rocks in a creek bed. “This request is for my edification only.”

“In that case…” David made a manly effort to pull his thoughts back from Erin to the game. “The stem of many plants is torose in nature.” He grinned. “That’s knobby to the uninformed.”

“Another new word learned for me—and another forty-four points earned for you.” Erin gave a magnified sigh. “I can see if I ever want to win a game with you, I’m going to have to start reading the dictionary in my spare time.” She jerked her gaze to his. “That was just a comment. I wasn’t implying anything.”

“I didn’t think you were.” David scanned her face. Tension had drawn the muscles taut. He smiled. “But it wouldn’t bother me if you were. I always grant a rematch. It’s only fair. I like to be a gracious winner.”

His teasing had the desired effect. Erin visibly relaxed and began to study the board. David studied her. What was it about the woman that undermined his determination to stay away from her? She wasn’t tall and blond, or sophisticated and classically beautiful like the women he usually dated. Quite the opposite. She only came up to his chin. And right now, her dark-red hair was held up on the top of her head with one of those puffy fabric things Brandee wouldn’t be caught dead in, and those little bits of hair that had popped free were driving him crazy!

David’s fingers twitched. He pulled his gaze away from the errant tresses and took inventory of the rest of Erin’s face. She had a sort of pert little nose. And great cheekbones. And her mouth… His went dry. It was dangerous to look at Erin’s mouth. She wore no lipstick and her lips looked so soft and inviting—

“—be forty-two, thank you very much!”

David snapped back to attention. “I’m sorry?”

Erin pointed at the board. “Squat—on a triple-word square. That will be forty-two points please.”

No extra long, fashionably painted nails. Just a nice, neat manicure. David picked up his pen and added her score. “That makes you twenty-seven points behind me.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Not exactly a commanding lead for me.”

“Not exactly.”

Her answering grin took him like a fist in the stomach—again. He wasn’t sure he was going to survive many more such blows, but he couldn’t think of a nicer way to expire. He also couldn’t concentrate. He glanced at his tiles, then looked at the board. A drop of rain fell on the z in blaze and spattered across the checkered surface. Another fell. Then another.

“Uh-oh!” Erin reached for the box.

“I’ve got it.” David jumped to his feet, scooped the tiles into the box then folded the board and slapped it on top. By the time he got the cover on, Erin had shoved the residue of their impromptu picnic into the paper bag.

Rain pelted down.

“Come on!” David darted around the table, grabbed Erin’s free hand and ran toward the gazebo at the end of the path. When they arrived, his admiration for her took another giant leap upward. Her hair was wet, her clothes soaked and she was laughing. Brandee would have been screaming bloody murder! Not that she would have been playing a word game in the park in the first place. He felt a tug and lowered his gaze to their joined hands. He didn’t want to, but he let go.

Erin turned and dropped the bag into the trash can beside the steps. “Well that’s a first!” She shook her head, laughing as droplets of water flew everywhere. “I’ve never had a board game called because of rain.”

“Nor I.” David got lost somewhere in Erin’s dark green eyes. “We have to have a rematch now. I don’t want my reputation sullied by a questionable win.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Anytime, Mr. Carlson. Anytime!”

David’s hand clenched so hard the box popped. He put it down on the wide railing before he destroyed it.

“Where’d everyone go?” Erin glanced around. “Are we the only ones who took refuge here?”

David nodded. “I guess everyone else must have seen the rain coming and left.”

“Smart people.” She raised her hands and wrapped them about her bare upper arms. “I guess we were too involved in our game to notice the clouds rolling in.”

“I guess.” David frowned. She was shivering. “You’re cold. I’m sorry I don’t have a jacket to offer you, perhaps this will help.” He moved forward, folded his arms around her clasped ones and pulled her back against him. The moisture from the back of her sleeveless sweater penetrated his shirt front, momentarily cooling the skin on his chest. He took a breath, inhaling the suggestion of citrus that clung to her hair. His heart started thudding in time with the rain drumming on the roof. His grip tightened.

Erin went rigid, then shot from his grip like a bullet from a gun. He stared at her in astonishment.

“I’m all right now.” She wrapped her arms around herself again and turned to look out at the park. “Do you like rain? I’ve always loved it. When I was young I used to beg my mother to let me go outside and walk around the yard just so I could listen to it beating on my umbrella. I still go for walks in the rain. And, I suppose it’s silly, but I love to sit in a car when rain is pattering on the roof. Or on my back porch, so I hear it on the roof.”

She was nervous! She was chattering like a magpie. At such an innocuous touch? David didn’t know whether to be insulted or flattered. He put the debate aside until later. “I didn’t enjoy rainstorms as a kid. They interfered with playing ball. But I did like riding my bike through the mud puddles afterward.”

“Really?” Erin turned toward him. “And what did your mother think of that?”

He shook his head and leaned his shoulder against one of the roof support posts, blocking from his mind the feel of her in his arms. “My mom died when I was four years old.”

“How awful. I’m sorry, David. I’m sure that was terribly hard for you.”

The warmth and compassion in Erin’s eyes and voice stirred his heart. He nodded. “Thanks. But it was a long time ago. It’ll be twenty-four years next month.”

“Do you have a stepmom?”

David straightened and jammed his hands in his jeans pockets, uncomfortable with talking about his personal life. “Yes. My father…does a lot of traveling.” For God. Old anger snaked its way through him. “He met a woman overseas and remarried a few years later.”

“So you moved a lot as a child?”

She sounded less nervous. David shook his head and skirted around the fact that his father and the new wife hadn’t wanted him, because he would take time from their work for the Lord. “No. I lived with my grandmother and grandfather.” He pulled up a smile. “Grandpa was a terrific gardener, and Grandma baked the best cookies in ten counties. As a matter of fact, you can blame Grandpa for those words I used in the game. I wanted to be like him, so I took up botany in college.”

“Botany?” Those gorgeous eyes of hers widened in surprise. “How did you get from there to journalism?”

He shrugged. “One of my professors took me aside one day and told me I had an innate writing talent. He suggested I develop it and pursue fame and fortune as a journalist or writer. That sounded good to me, so I switched my major, and the rest, as they say, is history.” He smiled. “Except in my case, history is still in the making.”

“Now that’s the sort of a teacher every child should have. Not the kind who only put in their time and totally ignore the needs of their students! Not the kind who—” Erin clamped her lips together and walked to the railing.

She was shivering again. David stayed rooted in place. He wasn’t about to make the mistake of touching her again—no matter how innocent and altruistic his motives. “Sounds like you’ve had a bad experience with a teacher, Erin. Is that why you’re so passionate about the literacy center?”

“Yes. It is.”

He waited but she didn’t expand on her answer. She just stood there with her back toward him, staring out at the rain. Some emotion he felt but couldn’t identify emanated from her. Pain? Anger? Whatever it was, he wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, but that avenue was closed to him. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for whatever happened to you, Erin. But if that experience is what motivated your passion for helping your students at the center, at least some good has come out of it.”

Her head lifted. She turned to look at him, then smiled. It felt as if someone had suddenly turned on the sun.

“Thank you, David.” Her smile widened. “You’re a very kind person—” she wrinkled her nose at him “—except when it comes to word games.”

That little wrinkle of her nose stirred more than his heart. David dragged in a breath of air and returned her smile. “Kindness isn’t in the rules.”

Erin laughed, then shifted her gaze to the roof. “Listen. The rain has stopped. We can go home and dry out.”

“I guess we can.” David picked up the game and followed Erin down the steps, wishing—for the first time in his life—the deluge had continued.

The rain had started again. Erin picked up her mug of hot cocoa, pushed open the back door and stepped out onto the porch. She was greeted by the steady drumming of raindrops on the roof overhead.

She took a deep breath, savoring the clean smell of the rain, then walked over to curl up in her favorite corner of the wicker couch. The cushion felt good against her bare feet. She snuggled them deeper into the softness and took a swallow of the cocoa, capturing one of the small marshmallows floating on top and letting its warm sweetness melt on her tongue.

If that experience is what motivated your passion for helping your students at the center, at least some good has come out of it.

Had her face revealed how startled she’d been by David’s statement? Not only by his sensitivity, but by the truth he’d expressed. Erin wrapped both hands around the warm mug and stared out into the night. She’d lived so long with the legacy of distrust, fear and anger that Mr. Gorseman’s attempted rape of her had caused, she’d never thought of the possibility of good coming from it. But it had. She’d become a teacher and a fierce advocate for the students at the literacy center because of it. And her mom and dad volunteered at the women’s rape and abuse shelter as a result of her experience. But that was all for the good of others.

Erin set her cup on the table, rose and walked to the top of the steps, wrapping her arms about herself and leaning back against the support post to watch the raindrops dancing on the wet bricks of the walk. What about her? What about her family? Where was the good for them? All she’d received was an inability to trust a man. Alayne had turned her back on God and was living in sin with a lying, cheating lothario. And her parents suffered because their oldest daughter was too ashamed of the life she lived to even speak to them, and their youngest daughter was too wary of men to ever fall in love.

No, nothing good had come to them from that experience.

Chapter Five

Erin pulled the dress over her head, zipped up the back then eyed herself in the full-length mirror on the back of her closet door. She loved this sleeveless dress with its square-cut neckline and soft apricot-colored fabric that skimmed over her body before flaring to the flirty, lettuce-edge hem. It was so summery and feminine. And she definitely felt feminine. Ever since David put his arms around her Friday night she’d felt…well…womanly.

Erin scowled and lifted her hands to smooth the fabric covering her shoulders. What was wrong with her? She’d felt his heart thudding against her back. He’d wanted to kiss her. That he restrained himself didn’t make him trustworthy, it only made him circumspect. They had been in an open gazebo in a public park with traffic passing by. It was the reason she hadn’t totally panicked when he’d put his arms around her.

Erin stuck her tongue out at herself in the mirror. “Forget how nice David Carlson seems, Erin Kelly, and remember he has a reputation as a ladies’ man! He wasn’t interested in you. You were only with him because of an accidental meeting. He was just reacting according to form!”

Erin turned away from the mirror, stepped into her dress sandals and went to brush her hair. Her time would be better spent concentrating on the lesson she’d prepared for her Sunday school class.

“Who remembers how long it rained after Noah, his family and all the animals went into the ark?” Little hands shot up all around the room. Erin smiled. “Janie?”

“Forty days and forty nights.”

“That’s right. And who can tell me why God saved Noah and his family?” Erin swept her gaze over the class. “Andrew?”

“’Cause Noah was the only one that was good. Everyone else was real bad!”

Erin nodded. “Yes. God’s word tells us that only Noah walked with God. And because Noah walked with God, the Lord saved his whole family! And the Lord still does that today.” She patted her Bible. “It says in God’s word, ‘Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved—and thy house.’ That means your family, not the house you live in.”

Erin smiled and glanced at her watch. “Okay, that’s all for today. I’ll see you next week. You’re dismissed.” She rose and walked to the door. “Remember, no running.” She stepped into the hall to watch the children walk safely to their waiting parents.

Thank You, Father God, that Jesus is our ark. He’s the one who saves us and shelters us through the storms of life.

Erin took a deep breath to relieve the sudden pressure in her chest and headed for the sanctuary. She’d been waiting and praying seven years for Alayne to come back to the Lord. How long would she have to wait for that storm to be over?

The sound of organ music penetrated her thoughts. Erin pushed on the swinging door, slipped through the slight opening, then slid into a pew and reached for a hymnal. Lord, please draw Alayne back to You. I ask it in Your holy name. Amen.

The first selection was “Amazing Grace.” Erin smiled at its appropriateness, slipped the hymnal back into the rack and sang the words straight from her heart.

He hated Sunday mornings! Everyone slept in to get over Saturday nights. There was nothing going on—nothing to distract him.

Erin was probably in church.

David frowned. He needed to get over this attraction for Erin. He’d been making some progress at that until he ran into her at the store. And then that game in the park! That had given him a serious setback. Still, he knew what he wanted, where he was going and what he had to do to get there. And he was right on track. He wasn’t about to stop now. Not even for Erin Kelly.

David raked his hands through his hair, flopped down on the couch and propped his feet up on his ebony coffee table. Boy, that woman was messing with his head—with his life! Brandee was in a snit because of last night. Not that he blamed her. Charlene’s parties were important to people trying to scale the social ladder, and he might as well have stayed home for all the attention he paid everyone. Especially Brandee.

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