“My Sunday school teacher said that if you give your troubles to God, He will help you through them.”

Lily smiled at the young boy. “She’s absolutely right, Nate.”

“I’ve been asking God for a mom forever. And when you found that dog? I talked to Him about that, too. No mom, no dog. ’Nuff said.”

“God doesn’t always answer with a ‘yes,’ Nate, but He always answers,” she explained. “Maybe he’s saying ‘Wait.’ When the time’s right, if it’s His will…”

“His will? What’s that?”

“Well, will is…it’s like a plan. Long before you were born, God knew you, knew what was best for you, too. And for as long as you live, He’ll do everything in His power to see that you have what you need.”

“What I need is a mom.” And under his breath, “Dog would be nice, too.”

Oh, if only she could fill that role! He was adorable, big-hearted, smarter than any four-year-old she’d ever met. And he was part of his father. No wonder she was crazy about him!

LOREE LOUGH

A full-time writer for many years, Loree Lough has produced more than two thousand articles, dozens of short stories and novels for the young (and young at heart), and all have been published here and abroad. The award-winning author of more than thirty-five romances, Loree also writes as Cara McCormack and Aleesha Carter.

A comedic teacher and conference speaker, Loree loves sharing in classrooms what she’s learned the hard way. The mother of two grown daughters, she lives in Maryland with her husband and an old-as-dirt cat named Mouser (who, until she caught and killed her first mouse, had no idea what a rodent was).

An Accidental Mom
Loree Lough

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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I will sing the mercies of the Lord forever; with my mouth I will make known thy faithfulness to all generations.

—Psalms 89:1

To Larry, without whose patience and understanding my writing wouldn’t be possible;

to Elice and Valerie, my daughters and best friends.

Dear Reader,

Some of my all-time favorite poems and stories were composed by Henry van Dyke (1852–1933). The words of this gentle Pennsylvania-born man, who spent his life pastoring in New York and teaching English literature at Princeton, have been touching readers’ hearts since his first works were published.

I wish Max Sheridan, my hero in An Accidental Mom, had discovered van Dyke’s writings earlier; maybe then he wouldn’t have slipped so far from his Father’s guiding hand….

For the poet’s guileless words remind us how simple it is to invite God into our lives, how very eager He is to accept our invitation. Perhaps a word, a phrase from the quiet, thought-provoking verses would have spared Max years of cold, lonely searching.

If you, like Max, find yourself a little lost, a little too far from the restful solace of the Almighty’s embrace, do yourself a favor and read as many of Henry van Dyke’s poems and stories as you can get your hands on. I promise, you won’t regret it!

If you enjoyed An Accidental Mom, drop me a note c/o Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279. I love hearing from my readers, and try to answer every letter personally.

All my best,

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 One

The four-year-old wrapped an arm around his father’s leg. “Daddy,” he said, tugging at the pocket of his father’s sports coat, “why do people come to the simmy-terry?”

The day was as gray as Max Sheridan’s mood, and Nate’s questions did nothing to improve it. He looked into the innocent, brown eyes and smiled despite himself. Oh, but he loved this kid! “To visit loved ones, Nate. To pay our respects to people who have died.”

Nate knelt in the damp grass. One by one, he placed the white roses he’d chosen at the flower mart at the feet of the marble angel guarding his mother’s grave. “Mommy isn’t in there.” He spoke with conviction. “Only her bones. Her soul is in heaven with God.”

He stood and pressed close to his father. “Right, Dad?”

Max inhaled deeply. “Yes, Nate.” He’d told bedtime stories to soothe the boy to sleep; how different was this white lie? He’d tried believing in God, in miracles. Well, if God truly existed and He could perform miracles, he and Nate wouldn’t be here at Melissa’s grave, now would they?

For a long time, Nate merely stared at the tombstone. “She isn’t cold, you know….”

Nate had been too young when Melissa died to have any real memory of her. He seemed to have no recollection of those bleak days in the funeral parlor, when friends and relatives speculated about why a beautiful woman with so much to live for would take her own life. If there had been a God to thank for that, Max would have prayed himself hoarse. Max had only brought Nate to Peaceful Gardens twice, and each visit inspired new curiosities—and childlike observations about death, dying and the afterlife—in his son.

“…because the tempa-chure in heaven is always a pleasant seventy-five degrees.” Nate’s beaming face told Max how proud he was to have remembered that tidbit of information.

Max chuckled. He was something else, this kid of his. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Gramma Georgia tol’ me so, on the phone yesterday when I tol’ her we were coming here to say goodbye to Mommy. She said Mommy will always be warm and happy, ’cause everything is perfect up in heaven.”

If God didn’t exist, then neither did heaven. But Max smiled. He saw no point in tarnishing the boy’s image of…things.

Even Max didn’t understand why, when in all other areas he’d been a no-nonsense, tell-it-like-it-is parent. Fairy tales were stories, nothing more. Santa and the Easter Bunny were invented to put money into the pockets of the greeting card manufacturers. The tooth fairy? The lazy parents’ way of coaxing their kids to brush and floss. Far better to extinguish his son’s belief in fantasies like that than to let him grow up and find out how painful and unrelenting the real world could be.

Strangely, though, he was less rigid when it came to matters of religion, spirituality and faith. If Nate wanted to attend Sunday school with his school chums, fine. If he wanted to tag along when the neighbors attended services, so be it. Nate got so much out of the whole “church thing” that Max couldn’t bring himself to put an end to it. Something, though, told him that the longer he waited to teach the boy the truth as he saw it, the more difficult it would be.

“Is Gramma full of beans?”

Laughing, Max took Nate’s hand. Where did the kid come up with this stuff? “’Course not, son.”

Nate’s face crinkled with confusion. “But, Dad, you said so yourself, just last night, ’member?”

Yes, he remembered, only too well. He’d been on the phone with his mother, discussing the trip to Amarillo, when she started with her usual “bless this” and “pray for that” nonsense. Max’s day had been bad enough to that point; being forced to listen to her spiritual malarkey was the proverbial straw on the camel’s already overloaded back. “If your precious Lord is so merciful,” he’d demanded, “why’d He allow Melissa to take her own life? Why’d He let you—a woman who devoted her whole life to Him—break your leg?”

“I didn’t raise you to talk like that!” Georgia had scolded. And when she started praying for his salvation, he’d put a hand over the phone and closed his eyes. “Mom,” he’d muttered, “you’re full of beans.”

And that’s when he’d noticed Nate, standing in the doorway.

“I was only teasing,” Max had whispered past the phone’s mouthpiece. “Besides, Gramma didn’t hear me.”

But Nate’s doubting expression said he believed otherwise.

Now, Nate stood and brushed freshly mowed grass clippings from the knees of his jeans. “You gonna say goodbye to Mommy, Dad?”

Closing his eyes, Max held his breath and summoned the strength to go through the motions…for Nate. He’d tried to say goodbye to Melissa, for even as the EMTs struggled to save her, they’d known she was dying. Instead, he’d struggled to keep a lid on his temper. Max couldn’t remember being more angry with her. He hadn’t understood why she left Nate then, and he didn’t understand it now…nearly three years later.

The very people who, when he was a boy, taught him that suicide was one of the most grievous sins a human could commit, also believed that God in His heaven had total control over things on earth, that He loved every last person. If that was true, why did some of His “children” die of starvation, while others became victims of genocide and war? Why did good people get cancer, while bad people robbed and raped and pillaged?

Despite all that, their simple faith seemed to bring them such joy, such solace. Nate—more than any of them, Max believed—deserved to grow up feeling that way. At least until life stepped in and taught him otherwise in its usual fist-to-jaw way.

“You gonna say a prayer for Mommy?”

Prayer. Of all the— Groaning inwardly, Max shaded his eyes. “Tell you what,” he said from behind his hand, “why don’t you say the prayer this time.”

“Me?” Nate’s brown eyes widened. “Thanks, Dad! I’ll do a good job. I promise.” He got down on his knees and bowed his head, then he closed his eyes and pressed both palms together, fingers pointing skyward. “God? It’s me, Nathan Maxwell Sheridan. Um, me an’ my dad won’t be comin’ to visit my mom here at the simmy-terry for a while, on accounta my gramma busted her leg an’—”

“Broke her leg,” Max corrected gently. He didn’t see much sense in correcting the “for a while” part.

“…on accounta Gramma broke her leg, an’ we’re going to Texas to take care of her ’til she can walk again. So, God? Could You do me a favor? I know my mom’s soul is up there in heaven with You, so maybe You could tell her not to worry ’bout her bones an’ her wedding ring an’ stuff while we’re gone, ’cause the men who work here take real good care of the place. Thanks.” Nate started to get up, then changed his mind. Eyes squinted tight-shut again, he added, “And, God? Please send another wife for my dad…and a mom for me. We really, really need one. Amen.”

On his feet again, Nate put his hand into Max’s. “How was that, Dad? Did I do good?”

Max swallowed the hard lump that always formed in his throat when Nate prayed for a new mom. It was only natural, he supposed, that even though Nate didn’t remember Melissa, he’d yearn for a mother’s love. But he was doing okay by the boy, wasn’t he? Hadn’t he learned to cook—a little? Hadn’t he taught himself to do laundry—sort of? He’d figured out every gizmo on that fancy vacuum cleaner of Melissa’s—hadn’t he? And tough as it had been to go it alone, he hadn’t missed a single Parents’ Night at Nate’s school. What did they need a woman for!

Max hoisted his son, held him close. “You did great with that prayer, kiddo, just great. Now what-say you and I head over to the burger joint. We have enough time for chicken fingers and curly fries before we head out.”

Nate kissed Max’s cheek. “You’re the best, Dad. Almost as good as havin’ a mom and a dad!”

Almost as good, Max thought, but not quite. Sad fact was, Nate would never have it “as good”—at least, not in the mom department, because Max had made a promise to himself when Melissa died.

And he aimed to keep it.

“Well, as I live and breathe,” Georgia said, slapping the arm of her wheelchair. “If it isn’t Lily London!”

“Oh, my!” Lily said, pointing at the woman’s cast. “What have you done to yourself?”

The redhead smiled. “One leg too few in a three-legged race?”

“Don’t let her pull your leg, Lily,” the fry cook called over the counter. “Genius Georgia was changing lightbulbs…on a stool with wheels.” He raised floured hands and shook his head. “Again!”

Georgia waved his comment away. “Oh, put a lid on it, Andy.” As an aside to Lily, she added in a loud whisper, “That man doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about.”

“I know what I saw,” Andy argued.

Lily scooted a chrome and vinyl-padded chair nearer to Georgia’s wheelchair. “Is that cast as uncomfortable as it looks?”

“Nah. Hardest part about wearin’ this thing,” she said, knocking on the toes-to-thigh plaster, “is not being able to get around like I’d like to.”

“How long ’til you’re back on your feet?”

“Ten weeks. Eight, if I’m very, very good.” Georgia tucked a red curl behind her ear. “One good thing came of it, though.”

“In other words,” Andy tossed in, “ten weeks. Probably more!”

Georgia feigned a frown. “Funny man. Maybe we oughta get you a gig at the local comedy club.”

Lily helped herself to a cup of coffee. “Can I get you some?”

“Had my quota for the day, thanks.”

“So, what’s the ‘good thing’ to come of your broken leg?”

“Max is coming home,” Georgia said, beaming. “And he’s bringing little Nate with him!”

Lily felt as though her heart had plummeted into her stomach. Max? Coming back to Amarillo? She put her coffee on the counter, afraid her trembling might cause her to spill it. “When…um…when will Max be here?”

Georgia glanced at her wristwatch. “They called from the road not half an hour ago, so they should roll in here any—”

The door burst open and a small boy with curly brown hair exploded into Georgia’s diner. He was the spitting image of Max, right down to the adorable dimples bracketing his wide grin.

“Gramma!” he squealed, arms outstretched as he ran toward Georgia. “Gramma, we’re finally here!”

Georgia hugged him tight, then held his rosy-cheeked face in her hands. “Lemme have a look at my favorite grandson,” she said, pressing a noisy kiss to his chin.

Giggling, Nate said, “How can I be your favorite grandson when I’m your only grandson?” He swiped at the spot his grandmother had kissed. “And second, how can you have a look at me while you’re kissin’ me!”

His grandmother hugged him again. “Four-year-old genius,” she told Lily, “just like his daddy. Yes’m. That’s my boy!”

She glanced toward the door. “Speaking of which, where is your daddy?”

“Parking the car.” Nate’s eyes widened. “You should see all the squished bugs on the front bumper. Must be a million of ’em!”

As Georgia laughed, Lily smiled self-consciously. She had to get out of here, fast, because it would be only a matter of seconds before the genius’s father followed him into the diner. And she had no desire to see Max Sheridan again, not after—

“Actually,” Nate added, “it isn’t ’zactly a car. It’s an Ess Yoo Vee. It’s big and red, like a fire truck. He bought it right before you busted your leg.”

“Broke my leg,” Georgia corrected. “I still think you and your dad should have flown into town, saved all those hours on the road. Especially considering there’s a perfectly good car in the garage that he could’ve—”

“I’m a pencil pusher, not Mr. America,” interrupted a teasing baritone. “What makes you think I could steer that boat of yours?”

It was Max, looking more gorgeous than Lily remembered. Tall and broad-shouldered, he seemed more at ease with himself than when she’d last seen him, more manly and mature. Marriage had done that to him, she supposed. Marriage and fatherhood.

Lily swallowed the lump of jealousy that formed in her throat and asked God to forgive her pettiness, because much as she’d wanted to be the one at his side when those things happened, he’d chosen someone else.

“Max!” Georgia waved him over. “C’mere and give your old fat mama a great big hug!”

He crossed the room in three long strides and bent to wrap his mother in a warm embrace. “First…you’re not fat.”

“I hope you’re gonna say ‘Second…you’re not old.’” She gave him a playful poke in the ribs.

“Do you see ‘Fool’ tattooed to my forehead?” He assumed a serious stance and a pious expression.

They enjoyed a laugh, then Georgia said, “You know my motto.”

“‘God and Nature have decreed that I will age,’” Max quoted, “‘…but I refuse to get old!’”

He crouched beside the footrest of her chair. “So, let’s have a look at this leg of yours.”

While Max inspected his mother’s cast, Lily did her best to sneak out of the diner unnoticed.

“Stop right there!” Georgia hollered.

Lily froze in her tracks, only too aware that all eyes were now on her. Caught in the act!

“Where d’you think you’re going, young lady? You can’t leave ’til you put your John Hancock on my leg!”

Feeling the heat of a blush creep into her cheeks, Lily moved woodenly toward the wheelchair. “Sorry,” she said, accepting Georgia’s felt-tipped pen. “Where would you like me to—”

“Daddy,” interrupted Nate’s hoarse whisper. He tugged at his father’s hand. “She’s bee-yoo-tee-ful!”

Lily chanced a quick glance in Max’s direction. Now he was blushing. Her heartbeat doubled when he met her eyes and smiled that oh-so-tantalizing half grin that had captivated her years ago. She’d changed a lot since he left for Chicago; she hoped he wouldn’t recognize her.

He got to his feet. “Lily? Lily London?”

Yeah, she thought bitterly, it’s me. The silly little twit who used to tag along behind you like a well-trained puppy, hoping for a pat on the head. She plastered what she hoped was a sophisticated smile on her face and tried to sound composed.

“How are you, Max?”

How long had it been since she last saw him? Five years? No, six…if she didn’t count the tens of thousands of times she’d pictured him in her dreams. Six long years since he’d left Amarillo—with his blushing bride on his arm.

“Wow. Look at you! I hardly recognized you. It’s great to see you.”

If he’d given her a thought at all in all these years—which was doubtful—he’d probably pictured her in braces and a ponytail, and carrying an armload of books. Surely the change hadn’t been that drastic, so why was he staring at her as if she had a third eye in the middle of her forehead?

Lily broke the intense eye contact by pretending to recap the pen, but ended up stabbing her palm with the point, instead.

She stifled an ouch, as Georgia said, “Who’da thunk that skinny freckle-faced li’l gal would grow up to be such a knockout!”

Nate took a step closer and smiled up at her. She’d heard through the grapevine that Max and Melissa had had a son. Mostly, she’d tried not to think about the fact that Max had started a life with someone other than her, because she’d loved him almost from the first moment they’d met—when she was a knobby-kneed seventh grader and he’d been Centennial High School’s star quarterback.

“Hi,” the boy said. “My name is Nathan Maxwell Sheridan. Max, here, is my dad. I’m very pleased to make your awk-a-ah…”

“Acquaintance,” his father helped.

“That’s it,” Nate said, nodding, “‘acquaintance.’” He looked up into Lily’s face. “What’s your name?”

“Her name is Lily,” Georgia said. “Lily London.”

“Sounds like a movie star’s name.” He furrowed his brow. “But I thought a lily was a flower.”

“It is,” Lily said, shrugging. “My mother’s name was Rose, see, so I guess she thought it would be neat to name my sisters and me after flowers.”

Nate giggled. “That’s pretty funny.” He giggled again. “What’re your sisters’ names?”

“The twins are Ivy and Violet, and there’s Cammi…which is short for Camellia.”

He narrowed his big, black-lashed eyes. “They’re nice names, but I like Lily best.”

A person would have to be made of stone not to warm to this child, she admitted, mirroring his friendly grin. “Well, thanks, Nate,” she said, shaking his extended hand. “And I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, too.”

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “My dad here could sure use a wife. See, my mom died when I was a baby. He does pretty good, considering he’s not a lady, but he sure could use some help. So…are you married?”

Georgia chuckled under her breath as Max slapped a hand over his eyes and gave a loud sigh.

Lily found herself enjoying his discomfort, perhaps a little too much. “I’m afraid I’m a little too busy to…help your dad out. I have a job. Two, in fact.”

His brows nearly met in the center of his forehead. “Wow. Two jobs?” he said, stuffing both hands into his pants pockets.

As if on cue, Max did the same thing, Lily noticed. It was obvious the two spent a lot of time together, because Nate had also picked up Max’s tendency to say “first” this and “second” that. Maybe Nate hadn’t been too far from the mark when he’d said Max was an okay parent.

“I’m an animal rehabilitator,” she told the boy. “And I manage my father’s ranch.”

Nate’s brow furrowed. “What’s that?”

“She nurses sick and injured animals back to health,” Max explained, “then takes them back where they came from.” To Lily, he added, “Sorry. He’s a great kid, but sometimes he talks too much.”

She was about to agree that Nate was a great kid and add that Max had nothing to apologize for, when Nate said, “Your dad has a ranch? With horses and cows and stuff?”

Lily smiled again. “He sure does.”

“Man, I’ve never been on a real-live ranch before. They don’t have ’em in Chicago, y’know.”

She glanced at Max. He’d grown up in cattle country; why hadn’t he taken the boy to see his buddies’ homes during visits to his mother?

“Are you a vettin-air-yun?”

“No, Nate, but I do work very closely with one.”

He crossed both arms over his chest. “I’m gonna be a vettin-air-yun when I grow up, ’cause I like animals.”

“Do you, now? Do you have a cat or a dog?”

Nate shot his father a less-than-friendly look. “Dad says I’m not old enough to be ’sponsible for a pet.”

“Well, maybe you’d like to come out to our ranch sometime, see my animals.”

Nate gasped. “Really? I could do that? Cool! What kind of animals!”

“Oh, a raccoon and a wolf cub, an eagle, some hawks, three monkeys and—”

“Monkeys! Way cool! Dad, I wanna—”

One look into his father’s stern face was enough to silence the boy. Lily couldn’t help but wonder why Max would have a problem with Nate visiting River Valley. It was the most natural thing in the world for a city boy to get enthused about the prospect of seeing animals up close, especially if his only prior contact had been at Chicago’s Brookfield Zoo!

Lily knew that if she didn’t get out of there fast, she’d likely say something she’d regret. “Where should I sign?” she asked Georgia, pen poised above the cast.

Georgia pointed, and Lily scribbled Get Well Quick! above her signature. “I’d love to stay and chat,” she fibbed, handing Georgia her pen, “but I have a million things to do.”

“You got any kids?” Nate asked.

“No,” Lily told him. “But with two jobs, I don’t have time to properly take care of children.” She didn’t tell him that not being able to make her “wife and mommy” dream come true was one of the most disappointing and heartbreaking facts of her life. The lump that formed in her throat surprised her.

And before any of them could say another word, she headed for the door. “Bye,” she called over her shoulder. “See you all later.”

Not! she tacked on as the door hissed shut behind her. At least, not if she had anything to say about it!

During the drive back to the ranch, Lily’s cell phone rang. “There’s a dog doing its best to keep from drowning in Lake Meredith,” her sister said. “I heard two small-craft pilots talking about it, listening to my CB radio. They’ve been hovering overhead for a couple minutes. Don’t know how long the poor thing has been down there. If someone doesn’t do something for it soon, one of ’em is gonna put it out of its misery—with a rifle!”

The mental picture of a dog paddling like mad to stay afloat, while sharpshooters zeroed in on it, made Lily’s heart flinch. Ordinarily, she didn’t specialize in household pets but this was hardly an ordinary circumstance. “Okay, all right, calm down before you fall down,” Lily said, making a quick U-turn on Route 40. “I’m on my way. Meanwhile, get back on that CB of yours and see if you can reach those guys. Tell the trigger-happy one to keep the safety on his weapon. I’ll be there in less than an hour.”

She’d witnessed situations like this before, and knew that unless the dog had been injured, it could stay afloat for an amazingly long time. Over the years, people had taken to calling her Snow White because of her talent for communicating with animals. She hoped the gift would help her coax this poor pup to the shore before…

Taking the exit onto Route 136 and heading north to the small town of Fritch, Lily forced the horrifying image from her mind. Lord, get me there fast, she prayed. “Say, Vi…”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve always wondered…why do you have a CB radio in your shop?”

Violet laughed. “Well, originally I got it to keep track of deliveries. If a deliveryman called to say he was stuck in traffic, I’d know within minutes if he was telling the truth or feeding me a line of baloney. Didn’t take long to weed the dishonest ones from those I could trust.”

Grinning, Lily waited for the “other” reasons.

“I realized pretty quick it’s also a great place to catch up on local gossip. And I find out when a bus-load of tourists is rolling in at Georgia’s. One quick trip to the diner, one quiet mention of all the good deals across the street at my boutique, and I have all the business I can handle ’til the bus rolls out again.”

Lily couldn’t help but smile. “So much for the ‘dumb blonde’ adage. You’re one of the savviest businesswomen I’ve ever known.”

She listened to the heavy silence for a few seconds before saying, “Vi? You there?”

“Yeah. I was just thinking about that poor dog.”

Nodding, Lily said, “Me, too. But don’t worry. I’ll do everything I can to save it.”

“’Course you will. Why do you think I called you as soon as I heard about it!”

“I only hope the mutt is wearing tags, so I can reunite him with his owner fast as I can. This whole ordeal will be traumatic enough without being separated from loved ones.”

“Well, a customer just walked in. Call me later, let me know how things turned out.”

Lily hung up, hoping that when “later” came, she wouldn’t have to tell her sister she’d been forced to take the dog home. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d taken in a lost dog or cat, and experience had taught her it wouldn’t be the last. Whether bringing the animal back to its former healthy state took months or days, every situation lasted only long enough to roust out a good family to adopt the pet. But regardless of how much or how little time and energy she invested in the creatures, Lily always experienced a period of mourning while she adjusted to life without the furry critter.

Nate Sheridan came to mind, with his big brown eyes and mop of dark curls. If she managed to save the dog and couldn’t find its owner, maybe…

Of course, that would require direct contact with Max. Lily’s heart beat double time at the mere thought. Clucking her tongue, she whispered through clenched teeth, “Get a grip, girl.” Because, really, what could happen between them in the few minutes it would take to get his permission to introduce Nate to the rescued dog?

“You’re getting way ahead of yourself, Lily.” She had no idea what kind of dog was splashing around for its life, no clue what condition it might be in by the time she reached it. A glance at her dashboard clock told her she’d been on the road less than fifteen minutes; it was nearly an hour’s drive to the entrance gate at Lake Meredith.

It dawned on her suddenly that she hadn’t asked Violet where the pilots had seen the dog. Acres of water made up this stretch of the park.

She reached for her cell phone, punched in her sister’s code. “Hey, kiddo…it’s me,” she said when her sister answered. “I didn’t think to ask earlier, but did those pilots mention where they spotted the dog?”

“I remember something about the boat dock. They thought maybe the dog had fallen off a sailboat or something.”

“But who’d go boating at this time of year?”

“I know I wouldn’t want to waste a nice day like this if I’d sunk a hundred grand into a sailboat.”

Violet made a good point, Lily admitted. The weather had been remarkably balmy for October, these past few weeks. “Did you manage to raise either of them on your CB?”

“No. We must be on a weird frequency. I’m hearing them fine, but they didn’t respond to me at all.”

Just great! Lily thought. Chances were pretty good that the sharpshooter who’d talked himself into believing he’d be doing a good deed by “putting the dog out of its misery” might actually take aim…and pull the trigger!

“Thanks, Vi. I’d better step on it. I’m still forty-five minutes away. I’ll call soon as I know something,” she said, and hung up.

“Please, God,” she said aloud, “watch over that pup. Give him the strength he needs to hang on ’til I get there.”

Maybe she should phone Georgia, so she and Nate could join in her prayer. No, the kid would get his hopes up. And knowing how much danger the dog was in would only worry him. Besides, if she didn’t reach the lake in time, his little heart would break, and for what? Lily knew only too well how much it hurt to lose an animal, any animal.

“Help me, Lord….”

What if she phoned ahead, told the rangers at the gate who she was! If she described her car and explained the urgency of her mission, they’d let her through without stopping.

Lily said a quick thank you to the Almighty for the idea and grabbed the phone again, dialed the number she’d memorized ages ago—and stomped on the gas.

Chapter Two

“Here’s our very own TV star!” Georgia said when Lily walked into the diner. “Does your dad know what got you on the evening news this time?”

“No, thankfully.” Lily plopped onto a stool at the counter and sighed. “But I’ll have to keep him away from television, at least ’til this whole ‘daring rescue’ nonsense is old news.”

Georgia clucked her tongue. “In all fairness to the reporters, from what I saw, you did risk your life to save that mutt.”

Shrugging, Lily rolled her eyes. “I borrowed a rowboat and paddled to the middle of Lake Meredith. Hardly what I’d call life-threatening.”

“Yeah. Right. Without knowing if the dog was vicious, or diseased.” She punctuated her opinion with a haughty harrumph. The redhead aimed a bony forefinger at Lily. “You can’t fool an old fool, so quit tryin’, girlie!”

Then Georgia’s brow furrowed. “How’d the soggy ol’ fleabag get out in the middle of the lake in the first place?”

Grinning, Lily shrugged again. Leave it to Georgia to put a brand-new spin on things. “Near as anyone can figure, she fell off a boat. When her leash got tangled in a buoy wire, she couldn’t get loose.” She frowned. “Guess her collar fell off in the struggle. Weird thing is, none of the boaters on the lake claimed her.”

“Maybe she didn’t fall. Maybe somebody tossed her overboard.”

Lily gasped. “Why would anyone do such a horrible thing! Especially considering she’s a beautiful, well-behaved, intelligent golden retriever.”

“Maybe she has the mange.”

“There isn’t a single solitary thing wrong with her. She’s positively perfect.”

Georgia leaned closer and whispered beside a cupped palm. “Maybe she witnessed a murder and the killer had to get rid of her so she couldn’t identify him.”

Lily laughed. “That would be pretty spectacular, even for a dog as smart as Missy.”

“Oh, ho! Don’t be so quick to judge. I read a novel where a dog could communicate by spelling stuff, using Scrabble tiles. Now that was one brilliant canine.” She narrowed her eyes. “Hey, wait just a minute. Did you call her ‘Missy’?”

Lily nodded.

“I thought she didn’t have a collar.”

Another shrug. “She didn’t. But, how she got into the lake, who owns her, her medical history—it’s all a mystery. So I called her Miss-Terry.”

“Miss-Terry, I get it,” Georgia said. “Missy for short.” Then she added, “Not the smartest move you’ve ever made.”

Lily held up one hand. “I know, I know. If I do find her family, it’ll be harder to give her up now, because I named her.” But then, it always was hard to give up an animal once she’d rehabilitated it. Eagles and hawks, lizards and snakes, fawns…it didn’t matter what species; Lily inevitably went through a period of mourning when her work with the animal was done.

She glanced at Georgia’s cast. “What’s this I hear about your leg not healing properly, about your needing surgery?”

“Where’d you hear that?”

“One of the park rangers is married to your doctor’s receptionist. She called on his cell phone while we were debating how to save Missy. He mentioned my name, and she wanted to know if I was the girl who used to waitress at Georgia’s Diner. I said no, that was my sister, Cammi. And she asked if he’d heard about your leg.”

Georgia stared in silence for a moment. “Well, I guess it’s true what they say.”

“Bad news travels like wildfire?”

“’Zactly.”

“So,” Lily pressed, “what does the doctor hope to accomplish with an operation?”

It was Georgia’s turn to shrug. “Oh, who knows? Robert probably wants to do it so he can pay off that fancy sports car of his.” Chuckling, she added, “Either that, or he wasn’t kidding when he said the bone isn’t knitting like it’s supposed to.” She shook her head. “Says he’ll have to put a pin or two in there, hold things in place.”

Lily patted her hand. “I’ll add you to my prayer list. That’ll get the job done.” She gave Georgia a look. “‘Robert’?”

Georgia blushed but ignored the question. “So tell me, what brings you to town? It isn’t like you to stay away from your menagerie so long.”

“Well,” Lily began, looking left and right, “I wanted to run an idea by you. If you agree, maybe I can solicit your help.”

“Oooh,” the woman said, rubbing both hands together. “Sounds like a conspiracy. Count me in!”

“Hear me out, first. You might decide it’s the worst idea since Custer took his last stand.”

“Then, time’s a-wastin’, girl. Spit it out!”

Lily told Georgia about her plan to unite the golden retriever with Nate. “Missy has such a sweet-natured temperament. If Max will allow it, she’d be great company for Nate.”

Georgia pursed her lips, chin resting on a bent forefinger, considering the idea. “Y’know, I think you’re right.” She met Lily’s eyes. “There’s plenty of space in my apartment, even for a dog Missy’s size. It’s just the three of us, after all, rattling around in six big rooms.” She nodded. “I think it’s a terrific idea. That poor li’l guy hasn’t had it easy, being alone with Max since his mama died.”

The mere mention of Max’s wife made Lily bristle, waking feelings of jealousy. She felt petty and silly, too, because Max had never so much as given her the time of day. “If I’m not being too personal, how did his…” She struggled to get the word out. “How did his wife die?”

“Killed herself. Pills.”

Georgia said it so matter-of-factly, Lily didn’t know how to react. “Suicide? But, why?” With a man like Max for a husband, and a son as great as Nate, why would any woman in her right mind—

“She never was wrapped too tight,” Georgia said as if she’d read Lily’s mind. “A bubble off plumb, as my daddy used to say.” She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I told Max she’d be trouble, but would he listen? Nooo. He had to be the big brave hero, try and rescue her.”

“From what?”

“That’s just it. The girl was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Her mama took her to New York every summer, to outfit her for school. She’d do just about anything to be the center of attention. Guess when li’l Nate came along and stole her thunder, she just plain couldn’t handle it.” Crossing both arms over her chest, Georgia shook her head. “Spoiled brat, if you ask me.”

“Did she…did she leave a note?”

“But, of course.” Sarcasm rang loud in Georgia’s voice. “How better to command center stage again, even if it had to be from the grave! She made good and sure Max would spend the rest of his life blaming himself for her death. And so far, she’s succeeded.”

“What do you mean, she succeeded?”

“First, he hasn’t been out on a date since before he met her. And second, he won’t go anywhere or do anything that might even hint at having fun. As if that’s not bad enough, he’s totally given up on God.”

Well, that explained the ever-so-serious expression on his handsome face. Explained his stern attitude toward Nate, too. “Sad,” Lily said. “He used to be so goofy, such fun, the life of every party.”

“Which is exactly why I think you had a doggone good idea, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

Lily forced herself to grin. “You really think Max will go for it?”

“You ’n’ me will see that he does!”

“Just so he doesn’t see it as interfering…”

“How could he see you matching his son up with a great dog like Missy as interference?” Georgia laughed. “You add my leg to your prayer list, I’ll add Max’s answer to mine.”

“Deal!” Lily said, shaking the woman’s hand.

Neither of them noticed the three-foot tall shadow standing near the bottom of the stairs….

Nate’s dad had scolded him enough times for thundering down the steps. This time, he was determined to get to the first floor as quietly as possible. So he pretended to be an Indian brave, stalking a deer in the forest. “Heap big bunch of meat,” he whispered, remembering the Daniel Boone movie he’d seen earlier. “Take home to squaw.” He raised the plastic shovel-turned-tomahawk just as he reached the bottom step…just in time to hear Lily and his grandmother talking about getting a dog!

He snuck back up to the second floor and slipped into his room. A dog! he thought as his sneakered foot hit the top step. A dog named Missy. Nate didn’t give a thought to the color of her fur, her age, the loudness of her bark. His only thought was a dog that he would soon have of his very own!

Flopping onto his back on the twin bed that was his here in Amarillo, he kicked both feet into the air and punched the mattress. “Yippee!” he whispered.

“Gramma, how old does a person have to be to use the telephone?”

“Old enough to talk, I guess,” she said distractedly.

Nate watched as she filed her fingernails. “What if a person wants to talk to somebody, but he doesn’t know their number?”

“He could look the number up in the phone book….”

Slapping a hand to his forehead, Nate did his best not to appear impatient. “But what if the person can’t read?”

“Then, I guess he’d have to call Information.”

“Information?”

His grandmother nodded. “He’d have to dial four-one-one and tell the nice lady what city and state the person he wants to call lives in.”

“We’re in Amarillo, Texas, right?”

“Right.”

Now he watched as Georgia shook a tiny bottle of fingernail polish. “You gonna paint your nails, Gramma?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Why? ’Cause that nice man is coming over again tonight?” Nate thought she looked right pretty, not at all like a grandmother, when she smiled like that.

He was about to tell her so, when she said, “He’s going to load me into his car and take me out to eat. And then we’re going to the movies.”

“Cool. Whatcha gonna see?”

“Who knows? Something funny, I expect. Robert loves comedies.”

Nate nodded, mirroring Georgia’s frown as she concentrated on layering each fingernail with a coat of pearly white polish. “So Gramma…”

“Hmm?”

“After this person tells the nice lady what city and state, then what?”

“Then he tells her the name of the person who lives in that city and state, and she recites the phone number. Unless it’s unlisted.”

“‘Recites’?”

“Tells,” Georgia clarified. “She tells him the person’s phone number.”

Nate could read better than most four-year-olds, but not nearly well enough, he knew, to look someone up in the telephone directory. He could write his numbers, though, because his dad had started teaching him as soon as he could hold on to a colored marker.

He was thankful that his grandmother’s focus was still on her hand. And his dad was down the street, buying washers to repair the leaking kitchen faucet. If God had been listening when he’d asked for assistance, Nate could make the call before either of them could say their favorite word: Whippersnapper.

“What’s for supper, Gramma?” he asked, heading for the stairs.

“I think your dad said something about fixing chicken fingers for the two of you.” Suddenly, she tucked her tongue between her top and bottom lip. “What do you expect,” she muttered to herself, “when you’ve only used nail polish twice in your entire life!”

“I love chicken fingers. ’Specially with honey-and-mustard dippin’ sauce.”

“Mmm-hmm…”

“God?” Nate whispered as he climbed the stairs. “Help me remember everything Gramma just said, okay?”

Closing the apartment door quietly behind him, the boy sat on the end of the couch nearest the telephone. Holding the handset to his head, he pressed four-one-one.

“And, God?” he continued, waiting for the numbers to connect him to the nice lady. “Let Dad say yes about Missy the dog!”

Lily rather liked the way Missy followed her around. The dog sat quietly as Lily fed milk to a baby squirrel. And while she cleaned the eagle’s cage, Missy lay quietly, head resting on her forepaws, cinnamon-brown eyes watching every move. It was as though the retriever understood that the barn was both shelter and hospital for birds with broken wings, for orphaned bunnies…for dogs who’d been separated from their families.

“You’re a pretty cool mutt,” she said, ruffling the golden fur. “Even Obnoxious thinks so!” Missy got along well with her dad’s dog. Surprising in itself, because while Obnoxious had never been vicious, he’d never before befriended one of Lily’s visiting canines.

Missy sat on her haunches and sent Lily a happy-doggy grin. She was about to admit that if Max said Nate couldn’t have a dog, she’d keep Missy for herself—but the phone rang, forestalling her speech.

“Miss Lily?”

Nate? But why would he be phoning her? “Yes.”

“It’s me, Nathan Maxwell Sheridan. We met at my gramma’s diner?”

Lily grinned. “Yes, I remember.” How could she forget, when he’d plied her with compliments and practically asked her to be his mother! “How nice to hear from you, Nate.”

“I just called to say thanks for saving that dog today. You’re not just pretty, you’re brave, too.”

He was his father’s son, all right, adept at flirting, even at the tender age of four. Max had made an art form of it in high school. Surely he’d only improved since—

Lily remembered what Georgia had said—that Max hadn’t dated, had practically refused to do anything that involved a good time since his wife’s death.

“I heard you, a little while ago, telling Gramma that you want me to have the dog. So I’m calling to make sure you know I’ll take very good care of her. I’ll be nice to her and I’ll keep her clean and I’ll feed her on time every day and I’ll take her for walks. I promise.”

If it was possible to hug a person through the phone, Lily would have hugged Nate, just for being his adorable, sincere self. “I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful master for Missy,” Lily said. She was about to explain that the dog could only be his with his dad’s approval, when Nate spoke.

“I’m very gentle, you know. I don’t pull dogs’ ears or tails, like some kids do. I don’t tease them, either, because, well, teasing isn’t nice! Oh, and I’ll make sure she gets plenty of water, ’cause I know how ’portant it is—for a dog to drink plenty of water, I mean.”

Lily repressed a giggle; she couldn’t have Nate thinking she wasn’t taking him seriously. “I’m sure you’d make a wonderful master,” she said again, “but—”

“Who do you think you are,” a deep male voice interrupted, “making decisions regarding my son without discussing them with me first?”

Blinking, Lily sat in stunned silence for a second. “Max, I—”

“If and when Nate gets a dog, I’ll be the one who gives the go-ahead, not you!”

“I—I never intended to—”

“How do you expect me to deal with his disappointment, now that you’ve got his hopes up that he’ll get a dog?”

“Max, if you’ll just calm down for a minute, I can explai—”

“There’s nothing to explain. Your ‘find the mutt a home’ scheme may have worked in the past, but it isn’t going to work this time.”

It was pretty obvious by the tone of his voice, by the heat in his words, that Max had no intention of listening to reason. She didn’t understand the level of his anger. Especially with little Nate within earshot.

As Lily saw it, she had two choices: sit quietly as Max continued his tirade, or hang up.

If she hung up, Nate wouldn’t have a chance in a million of adopting Missy. But if she stayed on the line, maybe she could slip a word in edgewise…if she was patient until Max spent the last of his wrath. Lord, she prayed, give me the strength to know when to speak…and what to say when I do.

“I’ve had it up to here,” Max was saying, “with people who think they know better than I what’s good for my boy. Especially people like you, who don’t even have kids of their own!”

That hurt, Lily admitted silently. And it was unfair, to boot. Because she might have kids of her own, if loving Max hadn’t made every man look so sad by comparison.

“Stick to what you know, Lily—animals. And let me raise my son in peace.”

He seemed to have run out of steam. In the moment of silence that followed his last stinging remark, Lily debated whether or not to stand up for Nate. The boy clearly wanted—and as Georgia had pointed out, needed—something to occupy his lonely hours. Seemed to Lily he needed something to love, too—something that would love him in return, unconditionally.

“Are you finished?” she asked.

He cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“May I have a moment, then, to explain?”

“There’s nothing to explain,” he shot back. “I’m—”

“I’m sure you don’t mean to sound like an unreasonable bully, but…” She paused.

She listened to the silence and prayed he hadn’t hung up. Then he coughed, and she added, “If you’ll just be quiet for a minute, I’ll be happy to tell you what’s really going on here.”

“Go on,” Max said, his voice tight.

She sighed heavily. “Nate called just now to—”

“He called you?”

“Yes, he did, to thank me for rescuing Missy at—”

“I heard all about it on the news. ‘Lily, the hero of Texas wildlife.’”

Lily ignored his caustic tone and continued. “He called to tell me he’d overheard Georgia and me talking earlier, in the diner. I’d stopped by to ask her if she’d mind having a dog underfoot…if you gave Nate permission to have a dog, that is.” Not the whole truth, but not exactly a lie, either. But what was she to do, faced with his irrational ire? It didn’t seem fair for Nate to suffer because his father was a loud-mouthed know-it-all! “Mind you, I’m no expert when it comes to what’s good for kids, but it isn’t Nate’s fault that he jumped to conclusions based on the small portion of the conversation he overheard, because, after all—” she narrowed her eyes and accentuated each word “—he’s only…four…years…old!”

This time, Lily didn’t much care if he hung up or not. Then again, if he actually was the stodgy old grouch he’d sounded like, he might make Nate pay for the scolding she’d just given him.

“Max,” she began, tempering her voice, “I know it’s been a long time since you’ve spent any time in my company.” Long time, she laughed to herself. What a joke! Max never had spent any time in her company, because he’d always preferred short-skirted cheerleader and prom-queen types—a far cry from what Lily had been—and from what she’d become! “But you need to know, I would never do anything so underhanded as to get Nate’s hopes up about getting a dog—not without making sure it was okay with you first.” This time, thankfully, the whole truth and nothing but.

When he didn’t respond, she added, “So here’s the lowdown. The dog is a golden retriever, one of the gentlest breeds God created. She’s smart, well-trained and quiet. She’d make an excellent companion for Nate. Georgia says there’s room for her in the apartment. I’m sorry the little guy overheard the conversation, but now that the cat’s out of the bag, the ball’s in your court.” Lily groaned inwardly at the back-to-back clichés. “Think about it for a couple of days. I’ll hold off finding a home for Missy ’til I hear from you.”

And with that, she banged the receiver into its cradle.

“Take that, you bossy, swaggering—!”

“My, what was that all about!”

Lily turned toward the sound of the friendly voice. “Hey, Cammi.” She slumped onto the nearest hay bale. Immediately, Missy curled up at her feet. “That was Max.”

“Uh-oh,” her older sister said. “I’d heard he was back in town, but I was hoping you could avoid a collision.”

Lily only shrugged.

“So tell me, how’s he look?” She wiggled her eyebrows and winked. “Handsome as ever?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Cammi ruffled Missy’s thick golden fur. “Still stuck on the big galoot, eh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” she said again.

“Didn’t sound much like it when I walked in.”

Lily filled Cammi in on what had happened, from their sister Violet’s call to her hanging up on Max.

“Wow. Somebody put some starch into your spine, I think. Never thought I’d see the day you’d stand up to him, not knowing how you’ve always felt, anyway.”

Cammi was the only person on earth who knew that Lily loved Max—that she’d loved him when she was twelve and he eighteen, that nothing had changed, not a whit, in the years since. She sighed.

“You really ought to see other guys,” Cammi suggested. “Who knows? Maybe God has put your Mr. Right out there someplace, and He’s just waiting for you two to bump into one another.” She sat beside Lily, draped an arm over her shoulder. “How you gonna find your knight on a white steed if you never leave this barn?”

“I’m content, right here, doing what I do.”

“Baloney. You were born to be a wife and mother. This—” Cammi waved a hand, indicating the cages and the critters in them “—this stuff you do is proof you’re filled to overflowing with natural nurturing tendencies.” She held up both hands to stall Lily’s retort. “You’re doing great work here, nobody could quibble with that. But be honest with yourself, kiddo. Wouldn’t you rather be spending all that love and care on children of your own? On a husband?”

Yes, Lily thought. But only if Max were her husband and the father of those children.

“Well, I didn’t come here to lecture you, so how ’bout we talk about the reason I did come?”

Lily forced a grin. “The wedding?”

“Yup. Did you get your dress yet?”

On a sigh, she said, “No. Not yet.”

Cammi frowned. “What’s the matter? You don’t like the style?”

“It’s fine. Gorgeous, in fact. We’ll all look like fashion models. It’s just…I haven’t had time.”

Her sister stood, put both hands on her hips. “You have three weeks to pick up that dress and have it altered. It isn’t like you have a choice. You’re the maid of honor, don’t forget. How can I get married without you there by my side?”

Lily got to her feet and hugged Cammi. “I know. I’m sorry. You have enough on your mind with all the last-minute plans. I’ll do it first thing tomorrow. I promise.” She brightened to add, “Did you get all the presents put away yet?”

Cammi groaned. “Not yet. There were about a hundred women crowded into the living room. Must have taken you weeks to get the shower organized.”

“Took longer to recuperate, once it was over!”

The sisters laughed, and Missy barked happily.

“Tell you what, since tomorrow’s Saturday, how ’bout when you pick up the dress, we meet for lunch,” Cammi suggested. “My treat. Least I can do for you throwing the biggest, bestest shower a bride ever had.”

“It’s a date.”

“Let’s meet at Georgia’s. I have a ton of stuff to do in town, anyway.”

Georgia’s? And risk seeing Max there?

“If he’s there,” Cammi said knowingly, “we’ll talk loud and fast about the new love of your life.” She giggled and crouched to hug Missy’s neck. “He doesn’t have to know it’s a dog!”

“Maybe I ought to borrow that sweater,” she said, grinning as she plucked a shiny dog hair from Cammi’s shoulder. “He’d think my new beau was a blond!” Lily walked her sister to the door. “On second thought, it would be a waste of perfectly good playacting. Max doesn’t care who I see. Truth is, that scolding he gave me earlier was the most attention he’s paid me, ever.”

“Then, we’ll do something better than try to make him jealous.”

“What’s that?”

“We’ll ignore him.” Cammi headed for the house. “See you at supper, kiddo?”

Smiling, Lily nodded. “Sure.”

Ignore Max Sheridan? It would take more than a wedge of lasagna to give her the strength to accomplish a feat like that!

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