“Do I scare you that much?” Simon asked.

“You don’t scare me one bit,” Shanna replied, her hands on her hips. “But I’m pretty sure I scare you. We all scare you. You know, you could be a good example to these kids. Come on out and play with us sometime, maybe?”

“I don’t know about that.” Simon patted the dog at his side.

She nodded, then cooed at the dog, Shiloh, the sound of her gentle words making a funny little shiver do its own two-step down Simon’s backbone. “You can send Shiloh over anytime.”

The dare was back and he couldn’t resist it. “And what about me? Am I invited back for s’mores next time you have a picnic?”

She seemed shocked, her expressive eyes widening. “I thought you’d rather not share in our little picnics out here. Or any other part of our happenings here, for that matter.”

She had him there. He’d made it pretty clear he wanted to be left alone. “I’d rather not have to put out another fire, but I like hot dogs.”

She smiled.

LENORA WORTH

has written more than forty books for three different publishers. Her career with Steeple Hill Books spans close to fourteen years. Her very first Love Inspired title, The Wedding Quilt, won Affaire de Coeur’s Best Inspirational for 1997, and Logan’s Child won an RT Book Reviews Best Love Inspired for 1998. With millions of books in print, Lenora continues to write for the Love Inspired and Love Inspired Suspense lines. Lenora also wrote a weekly opinion column for the local paper and worked freelance for years with a local magazine. She has now turned to full-time fiction writing and enjoying adventures with her retired husband, Don. Married for thirty-five years, they have two grown children. Lenora enjoys writing, reading and shopping…especially shoe shopping.

Hometown Sweetheart
Lenora Worth

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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My foot has held fast to His steps; I have kept His way and not turned aside.

—Job 23:11

To my nephew Jeremy Smith, a true cowboy in spirit.

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

Letter to Reader

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

Chapter One

What was that infernal noise?

Simon Adams winced as he lost concentration yet again. Turning from the pair of boots he’d been working on for the last three hours, Simon grunted. That famous country singer in Nashville would just have to wait a while longer to get his handmade boots.

Right now Simon had to go outside and find out what was going on across the fence in what used to be a vacant vacation cabin. A cabin nestled in the riotous spring beauty of the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Georgia near the little river town of Knotwood.

There it went again. The banging and knocking, the giggling and shouting.

People.

Simon didn’t like people.

His brother’s dog, Shiloh—he really didn’t like the dog either—followed Simon out the double doors of his workshop, barking at the unusual noises echoing over the woods and trees. Obviously Shiloh was more excited about this intrusion than Simon. They both enjoyed the quiet of the countryside, but the dog craved company.

“Quit your whining,” Simon said to the big golden retriever. “We don’t need company today.”

Stalking up to the fence line, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Someone was moving into the big, sprawling cabin next to his. Okay, maybe a hundred yards from his, but still too close for comfort.

Shiloh barked again, a friendly let’s-go-see-who-it-is kind of bark.

“No,” Simon told the dog. “Why didn’t you go into town with Rick anyway?”

Shiloh appeared sheepish then turned to stare at what looked like an army of people in all kinds of sizes and shapes lining up in front of the house to unload a big passenger van. Small people.

“Great. Kids.” Just what he needed. He didn’t really like kids, either.

Shifting on his old work boots, Simon ignored the fresh spring air filled with the scent of honeysuckle and the sound of birds chirping in a church choir harmony. He pushed thoughts of his deceased wife Marcy out of his mind. He’d never hear his own children laughing. And he didn’t want to hear these particular children—seven of them at last count—next door to his studio day in and day out for who knew how long. They only reminded him of what he would never have.

“This is not good, dog,” he said to Shiloh. Not good at all. He liked his seclusion. He liked being alone.

Frustrated, he turned to go back inside when a woman emerged from the cabin and clapped her hands together. “Finish up and we’ll start the campfire and cook some hotdogs. The best you’ll ever eat in your life, I promise.”

The woman had dark curly hair falling in layers around her porcelain face and a pretty smile that could probably charm those twittering birds. She wore jeans and a bright pink shirt, a plaid scarf notched around her neck at a jaunty angle, making her stand out against the green woods.

Nice.

Shiloh barked his approval and before Simon could hide, the woman glanced over and looked right at him. Then she came prancing over to the fence.

“Hello, neighbor,” she said, waving as if he were a long-lost friend, her perky smile broadening, her eyes as blue as the sky. “I’m Shanna. Shanna White.”

He really didn’t like perky. “Simon,” he said with a grunt while she bent down to pet Shiloh through the fence.

“You’re Rick’s brother,” she replied, smiling at Shiloh. “Cari told me all about you.” Then she lifted up to stare at him. “She also told me you don’t like to be bothered. Sorry if we interrupted your work.”

That was certainly direct. Simon stumbled through his words. “It’s okay. Nice to meet you.”

“Same here,” Shanna said. “We’ll be here during spring break, doing the usual things—hiking, fishing, rafting on the river, cookouts around the campfire.”

“And how long is…uh…spring break?”

Giving him a mock frown, she said, “All next week. We’re here from today to next Saturday. I’d better get back to the troops. I have one very young one over there and even though her grandmother came along to chaperone, Katie’s a handful—eight years old and wanting to hang with the older kids. I’m sure we’ll see you again, though.”

Relieved, Simon nodded and turned to hightail it back to his own place. Today was Saturday. One whole week. He didn’t want them to be here for spring break. He didn’t want to see them again. He didn’t want to engage in small talk.

He didn’t want to engage at all.

But he couldn’t help looking back and listening to the sound of Shanna White’s enticing laughter floating over the trees. How was a man supposed to drown that out?

About an hour later he smelled smoke. Since he didn’t have a fire going in the massive fireplace centered on one wall in his workshop, Simon decided this smoke might be coming from another fire. A campfire or grill, maybe?

A hint of lighter fluid wafted across his nostrils.

Then he heard shouts. Glancing out the big window, he saw the source of this new interruption. His neighbor was trying to start a campfire behind her cabin. And all of those little hooligans were helping her. More like hindering her, Simon thought on a huff.

He watched while she doused the wood with lighter fluid then touched a match to the wood. He kept on watching when one of the kids kicked at the wet wood and said something no preteen should ever say, when the fire seemed to spurt and then fizzle.

Fascinated in spite of being interrupted, Simon went out onto the porch and listened.

“We ain’t never gonna get this fire started, Miss Shanna. And I’m starving.”

“Just relax, Felix. We’ll figure this out.”

“Were you a Girl Scout, Miss Shanna?” one of the younger girls asked.

“I don’t think she was,” the older teen Simon recognized as Brady Stillman said, his tone bored and full of tempered anger. Simon had seen the kid around his brother’s general store in town. He worked there after school.

“I was in Scouts until my daddy left and my mom had to go back to work,” another kid chimed in. “We learned how to make fire by rubbing two sticks together. Want me to show you?”

“No,” everyone said together.

The smile forming on Simon’s face surprised him even while it irritated him. Good grief, he had work to do.

He turned to get back to that work when a flash of blue-smoked flames caught his eye. Good, they got the fire started.

Then he heard kids hollering and screaming, followed by that lilting little voice shouting, “It’s okay, kids. I’ve got this under control.”

Yeah right, Simon thought as he grabbed a rake nestled by the door and headed down the steps. She had it under control all right. Miss Shanna was about to set the woods on fire.

Shanna watched as the fire shot up toward the oak trees and sweet gums, her heart surging in concern. She could handle this. She’d just…toss leaves and dirt on it. Yes, that would work. The leaves were still wet from the recent storm that has passed through. Thinking that would do the trick, she called out to the group. “Leaves. Grab some leaves to put on the fire.”

That brought a scramble of feet and arms all rushing to gather debris, the chaos mounting while the fire blazed higher and wider. Then a rain of wet, decaying leaves fell down around her, most of them missing the center of the fire and making the whole thing worse by bringing out a heavy fog of smoke.

Coughing, Shanna waved her gloved hands. “That’s enough. I don’t think that’s helping.”

“What should we do now?” Pamela asked, her long blond hair falling around her face as she bent toward the fire.

“Get back,” Shanna said, yanking the girl away before her curls got singed.

“Can we cook the hotdogs now?” Marshall, known for his outbursts and for pulling practical jokes on his friends, asked with a grin. “They’ll sure get roasted in that big fire.”

“No, not yet,” she said. “We want the fire to die down first.” She hoped this inferno would settle down.

Katie’s grandmother Janie called from the small back deck. “Need any help, Shanna?”

“No, ma’am. Just stay up there,” Shanna called back. She couldn’t risk Katie’s grandmother falling and hurting herself. “We’ve got things under control.”

Brady waved a hand over his nose. “This fire’s getting bigger and bigger. I don’t think it’s gonna die anytime soon. This whole picnic is lame.”

Shanna watched as he stomped off toward the cabin. “Brady, come back here.”

Brady kept right on walking.

“I’m with him,” Felix said, his dark dreadlocks bouncing with attitude as he shuffled toward Brady. “I’ll find a pack of crackers.”

“I want hotdogs,” little Katie said on a wail. “I want a picnic and some of them s’more things Miss Shanna told us about.”

“It’s all right, Katie,” Shanna said, trying to corral both the growing fire and the disappointed children. “We’ll get the fire down and I’ll start the wienie roast, I promise.”

She looked up as the fire licked at the jagged limb of a dry-rotted oak tree and then with a whish ignited the tree like kindling. This fire was getting out of control and she had no way of putting it out.

Then she saw Katie smiling and pointing and turned just in time to feel the cold wet spray of water hitting above her head. “What—”

Simon Adams stood there with a water hose positioned with a powerful spray toward the tree that had caught on fire. Without a word, he soaked down the blaze.

And he didn’t look too happy.

“There’s your fire,” Simon told Shanna a few minutes later. “Now enjoy your…uh…picnic.”

She at least had the grace to look embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she said, her tone low. “You can go back to work now. I’ll take it from here.”

Surprised at the way she spun around in dismissal, Simon bristled. He wasn’t accustomed to being dismissed, especially after he’d dropped everything to help her.

“You’re welcome,” he called while she handed out long forked sticks with hotdogs stuck on them and went about supervising this wienie-roast gone bad.

“Hold up, Mr. Adams.” She turned back toward him then, her usual perkiness subdued into a look of disappointment and dismay. Was she going to cry? ’Cause he didn’t like crying women and he sure didn’t have time to console someone who’d been foolish to begin with.

But Shanna White wasn’t about to cry. No sir. She came stomping toward him with a bit of her own fire shooting through her pretty edge-of-sky blue eyes, stopping with a skid of a halt inches from his nose. “I do so appreciate your help in getting this fire under control, but I don’t appreciate the condescending way you oh-so-carefully explained loudly enough to wake the bears about how to start a campfire and keep it from…how did you put that?…burning down the whole mountainside.”

She leaned closer still, the scent of her flowery perfume mixed with the smell of lighter fluid-engulfed wood. “I’m trying here, okay? These kids need good examples, not some snarky man who has a chip bigger than that old tree on his shoulder. So back off, will you?” Then before he could catch his breath, she added, “Of course, you’re welcome to share a hotdog and some s’mores with us, since you did save the day, so to speak.”

Dumbfounded, Simon smiled for the second time that day. Then quickly went back to frowning. “I don’t want a hotdog, lady. I want some peace and quiet. If you can give me that, then I’ll gladly leave you to your own devices. As long as they don’t interfere with me or my work.”

She glared at him. It was a dainty glare but it meant business. “Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we? We’ll try to whisper all week. You know, teenagers and preteens are so very good at that. Don’t worry. I think they’re all terrified of you anyway. If you’ll excuse me, I have some s’mores to make.”

Dismissed yet again, Simon stood there with his hands in his pockets, the amused and way-too-interested gazes coming from seven sets of eyes making him hot under the collar. Or maybe it was the scalding takedown he’d just been given by Miss Shanna that had him hot under the collar. Either way, he refused to stand here and be insulted after he’d taken the time to help her.

Simon glanced over at the kids, noting that some of them were actually enjoying cooking their hotdogs on sticks. Then memories of another picnic not far from here swirled like embers in front of his eyes. He could hear Marcy’s sweet laughter, see her sparkling eyes, feel her in his arms as he tried to keep her warm. An acute anger and longing filled his heart, causing him to step back from the scene in front of him.

“I won’t bother you again if you promise to leave me alone,” he said.

And without a word, he hurried back to the studio where Shiloh whimpered at the door. Simon let the big dog out. The dog could go entertain the neighbors. He wanted to be alone. Completely alone. So he shut the door and cranked up the country music he liked to listen to while he worked.

And with a determined effort, he put Shanna White and her seven charges out of his mind. Or at least as far away from his thoughts as he could, considering that for the rest of the long afternoon, he heard her occasional bursts of tingling laughter, even over the twang of the somebody-done-somebody-wrong love songs.

“That young man certainly had a burr in his bonnet,” Janie said after Simon was out of earshot. “Or more like, a burr in his cowboy boot.”

“He doesn’t like being around other people,” Shanna said. “It distracts him from his work.” And his pain. Shanna knew why he was hiding, and it caused her to be more sympathetic.

“Maybe he needs distracting,” Janie said. Then she turned toward the cabin and walked away, smiling.

Shanna watched as her new neighbor hurried inside his big barnlike studio, his faithful dog waiting for him. But he let the dog out then shut the door in the dog’s face, too.

No surprise there, she thought with an amused smile. She’d been warned that her neighbor was reclusive and standoffish. Her friend Cari Duncan—now Cari Duncan Adams—had also warned her about Simon’s dark good looks and even darker not-so-friendly scowls. Cari was newly married to Simon’s younger brother Rick. Rick, along with his mother Gayle, ran Adams’ General Store and Apparel in the quaint village of Knotwood Mountain about ten miles to the south.

But his older brother Simon stayed holed up out here on the family compound near the Chattahoochee River, creating handmade one-of-a-kind boots for everyone from celebrities and politicians to construction workers and cowboys. His work was famous but apparently so was his notorious seclusion. He didn’t venture out to get clients. They came begging to him. Everyone wanted a pair of Simon Adams boots. But not everyone could afford them. Including Shanna. And apparently, everyone cowered and tiptoed around his dark moods. Not including Shanna. She had seven unruly wards to worry about. She didn’t have time to bow down to His Highness or his demands.

The man made beautiful boots, no doubt about that.

Too bad his attitude toward the entire human race wasn’t so beautiful. Cari had explained why Simon was this way. And Shanna sure wasn’t going to ask him to get over it. He’d been through the worst.

Telling herself to cut him some slack and pray for him instead of belittling him, Shanna thought about what Cari had told her when she and Rick had insisted Shanna could use this cabin, rent-free, for a week over the spring break.

“I have to explain about Simon,” Cari said one night after a church meeting. “He lost his wife Marcy to cancer a few years ago and well, since then he’s become a bit of a recluse. He’s an artist, so he’s naturally temperamental and hard to live with. But Rick told me when we first started dating that his brother hasn’t gotten over his wife’s death. He’s bitter, Shanna. So he might be nasty to you if you approach him. He won’t like having neighbors for a week but even the mighty Simon Adams can’t dictate who his brother rents that cabin to.”

Shanna thought about Cari’s words now as she glanced over toward Simon’s workshop. No, Simon couldn’t keep people away from his brother’s property but he could make trouble for her. Especially if this rat pack of wayward teens and younger children bothered him.

She’d talk to her seven charges and explain the rules:

Leave the big man next door alone.

Stay off his property.

Don’t get too loud.

Don’t mess with the dog.

And no matter what, don’t go inside that studio.

Just pretend he’s not there.

After seeing the man firsthand, she’d have to remind herself of all those rules, too.

A loud crash inside the cabin caused Shanna to turn and rush inside. This was not going to be an easy week.

Chapter Two

Shanna was up the next morning with the first rays of sunshine. She loved early morning. It was the best time to talk to God while she had a clear head and some quiet time. Being a high school teacher meant she didn’t have any spare time during her hectic, structured days. And this week, she wouldn’t have much time to herself at all since she was going to be busy each day with a new task for her seven charges.

But right now, she only wanted to voice her prayers to Christ. So she sat in the big comfy chair by the wall of windows in the open den, the fire she’d started earlier crackling, her coffee cup in her hand and her morning notes on her lap. She jotted a few gratitude statements first—Thank You, Lord, for providing us this cabin. Thank You for Rick and Cari and please continue to bless them in their new marriage. Thank You for these children You’ve brought me to and help me to show them the way to Your love.

Holding her pen in midair, Shanna looked out across the way toward the big looming brown barn with the mural of a pair of cowboy boots on its side. Those giant boots with the famous golden soles were the only sign that Simon Adams actually was a real live human being.

Smiling, Shanna jotted one more thing in her journal. And thank You, Lord, for Simon Adams. He brings people joy with his art and his creations, even if he does have a bad attitude right now. Help him to heal, Lord.

Shanna shut the journal with a clap then closed her eyes for a prayer to get her through the day. She’d call Aunt Claire and give her an update and chat a while before the kids woke up. Then they’d start out with a long hike so she could show the kids that God’s world was beautiful in spite of the struggles in their lives. She’d also planned a picnic out by the river—just sandwiches and chips—no fires involved. She planned to sing praise songs and give a short devotional followed by some heart-to-heart discussion.

She wanted these kids to have a happy camping experience. Most of them had problems with either school or their life at home and parents who were too busy and frazzled to take them camping. Amazing to think that some parents were either too busy or self-absorbed and bitter to give their children the simple pleasures in life. Or worse, some took out their frustrations on their children. Katie’s stepfather had done that, using the child as a punching bag. Katie was safe now, living with her grandparents. And even though she was young, she’d so wanted to come on this trip.

Shanna remembered her own upbringing. She knew firsthand how a child could suffer because of neglect and abuse, didn’t she? But she’d overcome all that. She wanted to show these children they could do the same. Especially Katie.

No wonder these kids were confused and troubled. But Shanna couldn’t judge them or their parents. She’d seen and heard all kinds of excuses in her five years of teaching in Savannah. Why would things be any different here in Knotwood Mountain?

When she heard a door slamming, she opened her eyes to see Simon Adams emerging from his cabin, a cup of coffee in his hand and that adorable dog trotting at his side. Using this opportunity to spy on him, Shanna stood up to take her own sweet time looking at Simon. He wore jeans, battered boots and a lightweight denim jacket he’d probably bought at his brother’s store. His dark hair was shaggy and wild, as if he’d gotten out of bed and dressed in a hurry without even combing it. But then, there was something primitive and wild about the man anyway from what Shanna could see. He didn’t walk or stroll, he stalked. He didn’t smile or talk to the dog. He scowled with an intensity that bordered on anger. Maybe he was angry but even an angry man had to take a breath to remind himself he was alive, didn’t he?

Then, as if he knew she were watching, Simon turned and looked right at her, a solid frown marring his otherwise handsome face. Shanna waved a timid wave and watched as he turned and opened the big doors to the studio and quickly disappeared inside, shutting himself away from the world.

And shutting everyone in that world out of his life.

Simon stretched, the muscles in his neck and back protesting while his stomach growled for nourishment. He’d forgotten to eat again. And now sundown was fast approaching.

But the boots were done.

Rich brown leather with swirling tan inlays that reminded Simon of angel wings. The singer had been specific about what he wanted on his boots. And Simon had been determined to oblige the man. Especially since he was paying good money for these one-of-a-kind boots.

Simon was methodical and meticulous about his craft. Making a pair of custom boots could take weeks or months, depending on the entire process and the customer’s request.

But at the end of the day, Simon could always know he’d given it his best. And that’s why he had orders well into the next couple of years. He was blessed to do something he loved. Blessed to have busy work.

He was blessed to have something to do to keep his mind off the ever-present loneliness that always set in at dusk—that time of day when loved ones came home from work and families gathered together to share their day and eat.

Looking at the clock, he figured his mother was probably getting ready for bed right now, nestled in her own cabin around the bend from the larger one Simon had shared for years with his brother Rick. It had been the family home when his father was alive but his mother had insisted on moving into the smaller one a few years ago. She’d done that so Simon and Marcy could have some privacy.

After Marcy’s death, Rick had somehow man aged to move back in part-time and he’d brought that aggravating mutt Shiloh with him. They made annoying roommates.

Simon didn’t want or need the company. Or so he thought. Now he was alone in the big cabin next to his studio.

Rick had gone and gotten himself married to cute little Cari Duncan. What a match that had turned out to be. Now they lived in town for the most part, in the big Victorian house Cari had renovated, conveniently located right next door to the general store. Cari ran her own “girlie” boutique on the bottom floor of the house and they lived in the spacious upstairs apartment and sometimes came out to the Adams compound on the weekends.

Yeah, a match made in Heaven.

He’d had that once, Simon thought now as he rummaged through the pantry for a can of soup.

Once.

But not anymore. Never again for him.

He couldn’t help but wonder what his neighbors were doing tonight. He’d managed to steer clear of Shanna and the Seven NoiseMakers for most of their second day here, thankfully. Not that he was counting.

Now, he’d almost welcome some noise, some shouts, some sort of accident waiting to happen.

Turning to Shiloh, he said, “I guess it’s just you and me, dog. Maybe my lovesick brother will remember you’re actually his and come and fetch you soon.”

Shiloh barked a gruff rebuttal.

But both Simon and the dog knew they only had each other tonight. And probably for many nights to come. It would have to do. And Simon was pretty sure Rick left Shiloh here on purpose for that very reason, even though his brother used the excuse of big dogs being like bulls in a china shop when it came to the general store.

Simon heated up the can of beefy soup his mother had brought in with her weekly supply of groceries earlier in the week and sat down to watch an old western on the cable channel.

The phone rang right on time. “Goof grief, Mama, why can’t you ever just let a man be?” He said this out loud before he actually answered the phone. “Hello, Ma.”

“Did you eat?”

“I’m eating right now.”

“It’s a little late for supper, Simon.”

“I worked late.”

“You always work late.”

“I have orders.”

She skipped a beat then asked, “So, what do you think about your new neighbors?”

Simon frowned then did a shoulder roll. Taking a deep breath, he thanked God for his mother even when he wished she wasn’t so nosy. “I can tell you, there’s about seven too many of them over there.”

“Now Simon, be nice. Shanna is a good friend of Cari’s. She’s a teacher and she moved here from Savannah last fall to take a job at Knotwood High. She’s very good at counseling troubled teens—”

“What?” Simon dropped his spoon. “You mean to tell me my brother rented that place to a bunch of hoodlums?”

“I didn’t say that,” Gayle replied. “First of all, your brother is letting them stay there free for a week. And second, they aren’t exactly hoodlums. They’re just kids from church who’ve been through some rough stuff—some of it just minor trouble at school. She signed up to work with our youth and after hearing some of their stories, Shanna volunteered to take them on a retreat during the school break. I plan on coming out during the week to help her with meals and crowd control.”

His appetite gone, Simon groaned. “Well, that’s mighty nice of her—and you, Ma—but couldn’t she take them to Gatlinburg or Stone Mountain, anywhere besides right next door to me?”

“You don’t own the entire mountain, son.”

“No, but I do have work to do. How am I supposed to get through my summer orders with all that noise going on? And I’m telling you right now if one of them breaks in here—”

“Simon, have a little faith. These children need guidance and attention. They didn’t break out of prison. They just took a few wrong turns or had a bit of trouble in school. Katie McPherson is the youngest and probably the most sensitive. Her grandparents have custody of her now. Be nice to that little girl. And Brady Stillman is one of the older ones. You might remember he did some vandalism to Cari’s place when she first moved back last summer.”

“Exactly,” Simon replied, glaring at Shiloh. “I can’t have kids like that snooping around the place.” Except maybe that cute little redheaded Katie. She wasn’t so bad. She giggled a lot.

“They won’t bother you,” Gayle said in a mother-tone. “Shanna will make sure they stay on their side of the fence.”

“Well, she’d better. I don’t like this one bit and I don’t like Rick doing this without warning me.”

“It’s his property to do with as he sees fit,” Gayle retorted. “You should be glad he bought it before it went into foreclosure. We need those tourist dollars around here.”

“No dollars, Ma, if he’s renting the thing for free.”

“That’s for a good cause.”

“I didn’t want him buying the property in the first place.”

“You wanted it to stay deserted and rundown then?”

“Well, yeah. I liked it way better that way.”

“You really are hopeless, you know that?”

“Yes, I am,” Simon replied, his blood pressure buzzing. “You’d think my own family would realize that by now.”

“We aren’t going to give up on you, son,” Gayle said, her tone gentle now. “We love you and we’d like you to become a part of the human race again.”

“I’m fine with things the way they are.”

“Sure you are. Why, anybody could see that.”

“I’m going to finish my cold soup now.”

“I love you.”

Simon let out a sigh. “I love you, too.”

He put down the phone and stared into the fire.

He did love his family. But he didn’t have anymore love to give to anyone else. He didn’t like people around and barely tolerated his brother and his mother. But then, they both knew to leave Simon to his own devices. And they were family. Family understood about things. Strangers didn’t.

But in spite of Simon’s aversion to strangers, he couldn’t help but be drawn to the woman in charge of the kids gathered at the cabin next door. And he couldn’t help the sweetly hidden thoughts that emerged in his mind like a ray of spring sunshine melting winter snow. Thoughts of a woman and children laughing as they frolicked in the blossoming woods.

Simon got up to stare out the kitchen window.

And then he heard voices lifting out in song.

Shanna had them singing.

Simon listened to the gentle music of a guitar, listened to the old familiar campfire songs he’d learned from his own days at church. The songs were soothing, the voices echoing out over the woods in a time-honored melody.

It was peaceful and pretty, but Simon didn’t know how to deal with a woman and seven annoying young people. So he’d do what he’d been doing.

He’d just ignore them. That seemed to work in his dealings with everyone else. And since he’d buried Marcy a few miles away in the old church cemetery, it seemed to be the best solution for him. He wasn’t ready to rejoin the human race.

Even on a mild spring night when he was forced to eat cold canned soup and stare at a dog that didn’t belong to him, while he secretly eavesdropped on his singing neighbors.

Chapter Three

Shanna petted the golden retriever then offered him the last bite of her hotdog. “I’m not supposed to feed you scraps, I don’t think. So let’s keep this between the two of us, okay?”

The big dog woofed a reply then looked back up at her with expectant brown eyes.

“No more,” Shanna said, her hand on his shaggy back. “I’m in enough trouble with your keeper as it is.”

At least today, the group had eaten their hotdogs and chips and they’d even managed to cook their s’mores without anymore mishaps. If she didn’t count the boys picking on the girls, Katie falling down and scraping her hand and knee and Brady turning surly at the drop of a hat.

Glancing over at the lanky teen now, Shanna wondered if this week would help the kid. He was on probation for the vandalism since Cari had dropped the charges and suggested community service instead. The judge apparently had agreed to that and according to Cari and Rick, had given the kid a stiff warning. Rick had agreed to give Brady a part-time job after school as part of his sentence, too.

Shanna had met the boy’s formidable mother Doreen and his self-centered sister Bridget, so she could certainly understand why he was a troubled child.

When Brady got up and came to sit by her, she took that as a good sign. “What’s up, Brady?”

He grabbed at the dog. “Hey, Shiloh.”

“Is that his name?” Shanna asked, hoping to strike up a conversation while the other kids played kick ball around the camp. A nice breeze kept the day from being too hot.

Day Three was right on schedule, even if the kids had requested hotdogs again for lunch. They’d had a great morning devotional and discussion, after eating Miss Janie’s amazing pancakes. Then after a long walk, the kids had begged for another campfire meal. At least this time, Shanna hadn’t set the woods on fire. Nor had she seen their elusive neighbor either. He was keeping his distance while his dog was enjoying new friends.

Brady kept his eyes on the dog. “Yep. He’s Rick’s dog but he gets in trouble in town and they don’t like to keep him cooped up in the house so he has to stay out here.”

With Mr. Personality.

Shanna grinned down at Shiloh. “I’d think a big old dog would love being out here in the country better anyway.”

“I sure like it,” Brady said, rubbing Shiloh’s throat.

“Do you?” Shanna’s heart surged with hope. “Are you enjoying things so far?”

He looked at the other kids, his gaze staying on Pamela for a while. “Yeah, I guess. I don’t get why I have to hang with all these losers, though.”

“Hey, I brought you to help out, remember? You’re the oldest one here and I need someone to keep an eye on the younger ones.”

“But they’re not old enough to be in the youth group at church.”

“No, but they’ll soon be eligible,” she explained. “I want them to be ready to handle that when the time comes.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re exposing them to a few of us—the few considered the black sheep, first?”

“No, it’s not like that,” Shanna said, wishing she could find the right words. “I just think it’s a good idea for kids of all ages to learn to get along. Unfortunately, each of you here has had issues of some sort at school and with your parents. We have a very diverse group at church so it’s important that everyone respects each other at an early age.”

“My mom says some of these kids don’t belong at our church,” he retorted. “She thinks they’re beneath us.”

Shanna couldn’t say what popped into her mind at that comment. But it sure went to show how a parent could influence a child. Did his mother see that her judgments and criticisms rubbed off on her son?

Shanna had seen this firsthand. Her own parents had never attended church and scoffed at Christianity. Thank goodness her aunt had started taking her to church when Shanna was in kindergarten. And thank goodness her Aunt Claire was still her mentor and closest ally in Savannah.

Turning back to Brady, she said, “No one is beneath God’s love, Brady. We all fall short but He loves us anyway.”

Brady looked serious then nodded. “I guess you’re right. I’ve done some bad stuff but Cari forgave me and invited me to church with her and Rick. She treats me better than my mom and sister, that’s for sure.”

“Cari is a special person,” Shanna replied. “And she loves you a lot.”

“But she and my mom still don’t get along.”

“Well, sometimes being a Christian means you have to let go and just get on with life, even if you can’t be best friends with certain people. I’m sure for your sake they’re both trying to reconcile.”

“At least they don’t get into fights anymore like they did when we were growing up.”

“That’s good and you’re the reason for that truce, I think. They both want what’s best for you.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He got up, bored again. “What’s next on our big adventure?”

“Well, speaking of Cari, she and Mrs. Adams are coming out tonight to make spaghetti and then we’re going to sing songs around the campfire again. We had fun last night doing that.”

“Wow, what a party.”

Looked like surly Brady had stepped back in. “I think you’ll have a good time. Miss Gayle loves working with the youth.”

Brady rolled his eyes. “I guess I can handle it, since I’m kinda stuck out here.”

He wandered off to sit with Pamela on a nearby bench, Shiloh following him. The other kids all loved the big dog, too. Checking to make sure everyone was content, Shanna got up to finish clearing their napkins and paper plates. The week had only just started and she was already exhausted. But she had high hopes for this week in the woods. They’d had a good lunch. The kids were comfortable with her and each other now. Some of the teens asked questions that showed they’d listened to her earlier devotional. She wanted these children to know God’s unconditional love and she hoped she could show them that she cared about them, too.

“Okay, people. Let’s get this cleared up and we’ll go for our next hike. There’s a pretty spot halfway up the mountain where you can see the whole town of Knotwood. Then we’ll come back and go inside to watch one of the movies we rented. After that, dinner and singing.”

Shiloh came running toward her but when the big dog almost knocked her down and kept going past her, Shanna turned to see what had caught his attention.

Simon stood at the open gate between their fences, his expression not quite a frown, but not anywhere near a smile, either. But he looked good in his old jeans and even older button-up shirt. He always looked good, even when he seemed so mad.

And just because she loved a challenge, Shanna tossed the rest of her trash in the nearby can and walked over to aggravate him a little bit.

“Come to fetch your dog?”

Simon saw the hint of dare in her pretty eyes. “He’s not my dog.”

“Is that why you let him roam around with us every afternoon?”

Not exactly sure why he’d let Shiloh stay out so long, he shifted his feet and glanced over at where the kids were playing ball.

“I forgot he was out,” he said, thinking it was the truth. He often let the dog roam around the gated yard but he had forgotten that he’d left the gate between the two properties open when he’d come over to put out the fire the other day. Or maybe he’d left it open on purpose so he’d have an excuse to come over.

She looked from him to his boot shop. “I guess it would be easy to get so caught up in your work you’d forget everything. Even all of us right next door.”

He hadn’t forgotten her, oh, no. He’d heard her laughing and calling out to the kids. He’d even heard her reading from the Bible and giving a lesson to go along with the Scriptures. But he wouldn’t tell her that. “I sure tried.”

“Were we too loud and noisy?”

“No. I just turned my music up.”

“Oh, right. I thought I heard a Toby Keith song playing earlier.”

He shot her his own daring look. “Got something against country music?”

“Not at all. I can dance the two-step with the best of them.”

That surprised him. “Really now?”

“Really. My uncle Doug grew up in East Texas and I still visit relatives there all the time.”

He let that slide. “I’ve got customers all over Texas.”

“I know. When I told my aunt and uncle I was moving here to take a teaching job, my uncle got all excited. He knows all about Simon Adams boots. He sure admires your work even if he can’t afford your cowboy boots.”

“I try to adjust my prices for customers,” Simon said, his tone defensive even if he’d worked to sound neutral. “I build a basic boot that’s fairly reasonable.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I do need to get him something for Father’s Day.”

Father’s Day for an uncle? Interesting. “Too late for this year. I’ll be doing good if I get to the orders I’m working on for Christmas.”

“It’s amazing, what you do,” she said, the sincerity in her eyes making Simon think they’d somehow gone past sparring with each other to actually having a conversation. “Your brother brags on your work all the time.”

“He just likes the customers my boots bring into the general store.”

She grinned at that. “Well, it’s nice to be able to get sized for a custom-made pair of boots, I guess.”

“I do off-the-shelf boots, too. You know, for the general public. Less expensive.”

“Really? Maybe I will be able to afford a pair for my uncle after all. He’d love that.”

Simon would make sure her uncle got his boots, if he had to sneak around and get the man’s measurements himself. He didn’t know why that mattered, but he could be nice when the mood struck him. And looking into her eyes somehow did make him want to be nice.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her tone full of distrust.

“Man, do I scare you that much?”

“You don’t scare me one bit,” she replied, her hands on her hips. “But I’m pretty sure I scare you. We all scare you. You know, you could be a good example to these kids. Come on out and play with us sometime, maybe? Tell us about your craft, measure some feet for boots—just for fun.”

“I don’t know about that.” Simon patted Shiloh, the steam gone out of his need to pick at her. But the image of her dainty little feet being measured for boots brought logic back into his brain. “I guess I’d better head back and close down the shop.”

She nodded then cooed at Shiloh, the sound of her gentle words making a funny little shiver do its own two-step down Simon’s backbone.

“You can send Shiloh over anytime.”

The dare was back and he couldn’t resist it. “And what about me? Am I invited back for s’mores next time you have a picnic?”

She seemed shocked, her expressive eyes widening. “I thought you’d rather not share in our little picnics out here. Or any other part of our happenings here for that matter.”

She had him there. He’d made it pretty clear he wanted to be left alone. “I’d rather not have to put out another fire but I like hotdogs.”

“Maybe next time then.” She turned to spin away then whirled back around. “Hey, your mom is coming later to cook spaghetti. You’re welcome to join us.”

His mother made the best spaghetti. Thick, rich sauce with fat meatballs. Garlic bread. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had her spaghetti.

“I’d better not—”

They both turned at the sound of a vehicle moving up the winding drive.

His mother. And she had Rick and Cari in the truck with her. Great. Just great. Too late to make a hasty getaway.

“Looks like that’s them now. They’re early,” Shanna said, waving in glee. “Your mother wanted to get a head start, I guess.” Shiloh took off, barking his delight.

While Simon stood there, busted and embarrassed. Because he knew his overly-zealous mother would jump to the wrong conclusion.

But Simon didn’t have to worry too much about his mother’s assumptions regarding him being caught here talking, no, actually flirting, with a pretty woman.

Oh, no. He knew he was in for some serious ribbing when his brother emerged from the big truck with a grin splitting his face.

“I see you’ve met Shanna,” Rick said, slapping Simon on his back so hard Simon nearly pitched forward.

Wanting to throttle Rick the way he’d done—well, tried to do—all during their growing-up days, Simon took a breath and counted to ten, thankful Shanna was now laughing and talking to Cari and his mother. “I came over to retrieve your dog.”

Rick let out a snort. “Didn’t look like you were in any kind of hurry to take Shiloh home to me.”

“I’m leaving—right now.”

“Yeah, right.” Rick gave him a long hard look. “I do believe I see a sparkle in my old brother’s eyes. Coming to talk to the pretty lady—there’s a new concept.”

Simon wished he’d stayed inside. “I had to be polite, now, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t think you knew how to be polite.”

Gayle walked up, her smile sure and steady. “I saw you talking to Shanna. Isn’t she the nicest girl?”

Nice. But certainly not a girl. A woman. Simon had flirted with a woman for the first time since Marcy’s death. And that thought alone was enough to sober him into being his old anti-social self.

“Real nice. So nice she just about burned down the woods and the cabin the other afternoon.”

With that, he turned and stomped back toward his workshop, leaving his mother and his brother staring a hole through his back.

But when he turned at the door, the only person he saw in the late afternoon sunshine was Shanna White.

And he also saw the hurt, confused look in her eyes, too. But he told himself it didn’t bother him.

Not one bit.

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