Week #30: Moonlight Kisses by Mary Manners

Moonlight Kisses

 

 



Jaylie Caldwell shared her first kiss many moons ago with Holt McCaffrey along the property of Honeysuckle Cove Inn. She’s sure he’s forgotten the moment, but she never will. Jaylie’s dreams led her to Chicago and a coveted position as evening anchor for Channel 8 News, while Holt stayed behind to climb the ranks of the Honeysuckle Cove Police Department. But, when an emergency calls Jaylie home, Holt is waiting.

Holt McCaffrey is honor bound to protect the community of Honeysuckle Cove, so, when an accident puts the life of a friend in jeopardy, he holds himself personally responsible. He’s finally gotten his wish from a long-ago moonlit night when he shared a sweet kiss with Jaylie Caldwell—she has returned home. But will the terms of her homecoming leave any room for forgiveness...or for him?

 

~~~~~

 

 

Jaylie Caldwell leaned forward in the chair and pressed her cheek against the kitchen table with a sigh. Exhaustion burrowed into her bones. She’d give away her entire collection of shoes for a cup of coffee, but she couldn’t summon the energy to rise from the seat and crank up the coffeemaker on Grandma Nan’s kitchen counter to brew a pot.

Thank goodness Gran had come home from the hospital and was finally in her own bed again, sleeping peacefully with the help of painkillers Dr. Metz had prescribed. The past few days had been nothing short of a raging tempest woven with worry and frazzled nerves.

Gran had taken a tumble down the back porch steps and cracked her head hard enough to open a gash that required half-a-dozen stitches. It was no small miracle she hadn’t broken a leg or a hip, as well. Thankfully, Gran’s bones proved as hardy as her stubborn streak.

Thank goodness…

Jaylie’s gaze wandered along painted sunflower yellow cabinets and over walls where a flurry of carefully-framed photos and drawings spoke to the years she’d spent growing up in the modest frame house. The pastel of an outdoor scene that she’d designed for Gran’s sixtieth birthday stood the focal point. The image was frozen in time, a cheerful splash of color that spoke to Gran’s vibrant personality.

Hopefully, that fighting spirit would carry Gran through this tough time and into a full recovery. As far as Jaylie had gathered up to this point, something in the back yard had spooked Gran during a storm that swept through last Friday night. When Gran had ventured outside to check things out she’d slipped on the porch stairs and taken a tumble. How long she’d lain there on the pavement, unconscious and bleeding, remained a mystery. Mrs. Talley, Gran’s longtime neighbor, had discovered her as she went to fetch the morning paper. Zeke, Gran’s quirky chocolate lab, had alerted Mrs. Talley with a lengthy bout of uncharacteristic, frenzied barking.

News of the accident traveled fast through the tightknit Honeysuckle Cove community. During the forty-eight hours Grandma Nan had spent in the hospital, good wishes, along with enough food to fill a supermarket chain, filtered into the house. Platters of various sizes filled the fridge and overflowed onto countertops. Mrs. Werner’s apple cobbler sweetened the air while a plate of brownies that had been heaped tall enough to feed an army winked from the center of the cozy dining table tucked into the bay-windowed breakfast nook. And the fridge…Jaylie could barely get the door to close after storing all the perishables.

No one in this house would go hungry. No, sir. Jaylie’s hips widened just thinking about the buffet of fried chicken and vegetable lasagna, baked honey ham and sweet potato casserole. Just about everyone in town had stopped by to check on Gran.

Everybody loved Grandma Nan. She’d taught third grade at Honeysuckle Cove Elementary for over forty years. Just about every resident under the age of fifty had come through her classroom at one time or another. Each had stories to share about their adventures. Whether they proved class clown or valedictorian mattered not an ounce to Gran. She loved each and every one of them with every fiber of her being, just as she’d spent a lifetime loving Jaylie. Memories of a school year spent with Grandma Nan were sure to last a lifetime.

Tears welled in Jaylie’s eyes as the events of the past forty-eight hours filtered through her mind. Exhaustion and worry burrowed into her bones.

“I almost lost you, Grandma Nan,” she whispered. Her only response was the tick of the clock on the wall over the sink. She wished with all her heart that she could turn back its hands. She might have arrived in time to shelter Gran from the fall. Then, instead of Gran sleeping off the pain of her injury while Jaylie fretted, they’d be sitting here together, playing a board game and laughing over silly things. She sniffled as tears spilled over to run down her cheeks. “And I couldn’t bear to lose you. I need you, Gran. You’re all I’ve got.”

How many times over the years had Gran sheltered her from danger…from heartache and pain? More than she could count.

Jaylie had come to live with Gran the summer between her second and third grades of school. What was meant to be merely a weeklong visit together while her mom went off on a honeymoon with her third husband, stretched to two weeks and then an entire month. Before she knew it, August rolled around without any sign of her mother.

When Jaylie finally asked, Gran gently explained that her mother had gotten into a tight spot and she was going to get some much-needed help to get back on her feet. It was years before Jaylie realized that ‘tight spot’ included the new husband, prescription drugs, and a very serious brush with the law.

Being separated from her only living parent might have made other girls her age homesick, but not so much Jaylie. Life with her mother had meant missed school days, spotty meals, soiled clothes that never seemed to fit, and lots of lonely afternoons spent tiptoeing around the rundown apartment they leased while mom holed up in her bed, nursing a chronic headache.

But with Gran Jaylie experienced warm hugs, loads of laughter, chicken and dumplings, and clothes that smelled like sunshine. Best of all, Gran never cocooned herself in the bedroom, begging a headache. Jaylie longed to stay with Gran forever. She’d told Gran as much.

So as Gran set out to prepare her classroom for the coming year, Jaylie tagged along. When the school bell ushered in a new school year, Jaylie was issued a front row seat—right next to Holt McCaffrey who lived in the sprawling house right next door to them. Jaylie knew this because while riding the shiny new bike Gran had given her for her birthday, she’d spied him in the yard, chasing his dog and playing fetch when he returned from a summer-long trip out west with his parents.

She’d spent the entire year—a magical year—catching the bus, sharing lunch snacks and trading notes with Holt. She’d learned the meaning of friendship and discovered her first—and only—true love.

Blue-eyed Holt McCaffrey.

Jaylie stayed the next year with Gran, and the next. And every one that followed. Gran gave her more than money could ever buy. Jaylie felt wanted…and loved. Gran was never too busy to help her to bake chocolate chunk cookies or listen to her school day adventures. They’d even performed together in the mother-daughter talent show Jaylie’s eighth grade year. The crowd had issued a standing ovation.

As high school graduation loomed, Jaylie had confided to Gran her feelings for Holt. Gran had listened with a twinkle in her eye and a grin on her lips.

“God works in mysterious ways,” Gran had assured her with a tone of confidence Jaylie wished she also felt. “You’ll see, Jaylie.”

Wasn’t that the truth! Less than a month later Gran had dried Jaylie’s tears when Holt asked Megan Daniels to senior Prom instead of her. Not that Jaylie could blame him for that. Megan was a petite brunette bundle of TNT and the cheerleading captain. And, as the only daughter of the most successful real estate agent in Clover Cove, she owned a closet full of designer clothes. She zipped around town in a cherry-red ragtop Miata—a far cry from Jaylie’s department store wardrobe and the used sedan she shared with Gran.

It didn’t help matters when Megan confided an unsettling secret to Jaylie just a few weeks later, implicating Holt in her misadventures. The unexpected news broke Jaylie’s heart.

She couldn’t even consider the details now and forced all thought of that fateful day from her mind. There was no going back, no undoing what was done.

Instead of dwelling on what couldn’t be changed, Jaylie had embraced the opportunity to put distance between her and Holt. High school graduation came and went. She’d packed her suitcase and moved halfway across the state to study journalism. Four years later, bachelor degree in hand, she’d snagged a job as a reporter with the Windy City’s Channel Eight News.

Since then she’d been woefully lax on her visits to Gran. Her studies had left little free time and the move to Chicago made day travel impossible. She learned early on that vacation days proved few and far between for an inexperienced college graduate trying to stake her place in the media world. Over the course of six years she’d worked her tail off. She’d climbed the ranks of the fickle news industry in record time, clawing her way to the coveted position as evening news anchor. Life had been a dream come true.

Except for missing Holt and wishing…always wishing for something more in that arena, though she knew it could never be.

Then a few months ago the station was bought out and wham, the hard-won position was snatched from her. It mattered not one iota that she had more talent and experience in her pinky finger than the new GM’s niece, who had happily—and with a haughty dose of arrogance—slipped into Jaylie’s seat at the anchor desk.

Jaylie had seethed over this turn of events. She’d buried herself in a dark pit and covered the hole with self-pity. She’d finally crawled from the trench to phone Gran and share her disappointment. Together, they’d decided her best option was to come home to the cove and hash things out. Jaylie had felt a surge of optimism. Gran always knew just how to tackle even the toughest problem and come out on top. Jaylie had actually been packed and ready to head this way when the call about Gran’s fall had come through.

“You need to come home right away, Jaylie.” Holt’s voice, steeped with concern that had her nerves standing at attention, drifted through her ears. “Nan’s had an accident. I’m not sure if she’ll be…I mean, I don’t know how bad it is.”

Emotions churned through Jaylie. Worry over Gran blended with the most subtle hint of delight over speaking to Holt again after so many years.

God works in mysterious ways…

Zeke sauntered into the room. He padded over to Jaylie, sniffed the tile, and plopped down at her feet.

“There’s my good boy.” Jaylie swiped tears from her cheeks and extended a hand to offer him a soothing stroke along his flank. “You’re my hero, baby. You summoned help for Gran. I owe you bigtime. I’ll never forget that.”

A low-pitched rumble bubbled up from Zeke’s throat. He pressed his grizzled snout to Jaylie’s knee as if he understood the depths of her appreciation.

“Yes, you’re a good boy,” she cooed. “The best.”

The sound of a motor drew Jaylie’s attention through the broad bay window that flanked the breakfast nook. Zeke’s ears perked as he rose on all fours. He lumbered to the window and propped his front paws along the ledge.

A police cruiser wound its way up the drive. Impeccably-waxed paint along the front hood glinted beneath the mid-May sun. The driver’s eyes were shielded by a pair of reflective sunglasses but Jaylie would recognize the strong curve of that chiseled jaw anywhere, even after all this time.

Holt McCaffrey.

He pulled beneath the shade of Gran’s beloved century-old elm tree and killed the motor. A breeze rustled through the leaves as he leaned back in the seat and rested behind the wheel, probably debating whether or not to come inside.

That in itself brought a whole new level of heartache.

 

 

~~~~~

 

Thanks for visiting! I hope you've enjoyed this glimpse into Moonlight Kisses. Please leave a comment to be entered into the drawing for a copy. Winner will be announced Monday, July 31.

Week #28: Showered by Love by Mary Manners

Showered by Love

 

 

 

Jessica Marlin comes to Honeysuckle Cove carrying a secret–she’s pregnant. Shamed by her indiscretion and the circumstances of a former way of life, she’s determined to make a home for her child in the quaint community—even if it means going it alone forever. But when her secret becomes too big to keep, she fears she’ll be forced to abandon her new role as kitchen manager at Honeysuckle Cove Inn. Will friendship—and God’s grace—prevail, or will Jessica be forced to uproot and move on once again?

Rogan Brooks has convinced both himself and his hometown of Honeysuckle Cove that he’ll never settle down long enough to embrace marriage, let alone fatherhood…until he sees the glow of pregnancy, along with the promise of a future, radiate from Jessica Marlin’s eyes. Can Rogan assure Jessica that his heart is true and he’s committed to being a daddy—complete with a happily ever after—for keeps?

 

 

~~~~~

 

 

Jessica Marlin hummed along to the radio as she whipped a pair of egg whites into a bowl of angel food cake batter. Now that she was in charge of food prep for Honeysuckle Cove Inn, she planned to add the sweet, airy confection to the dinner dessert menu. Topped with a handful of plump, wild blackberries that grew along the pathway at the inn’s rear garden as well as a generous dollop of whipped cream, the confection was sure to please even the most discerning patron.

Jessica had arrived in Honeysuckle Cove only yesterday to claim her position as head chef—which was actually more akin to chief cook and bottle washer—of quaint and cozy historic Honeysuckle Cove Inn. The move made her feel alive again, as if she breathed fresh air for the first time in months.

She’d returned home. For real. For good.

Forever.

She’d traveled a rough road to circle back ’round to the cove. Kurt had been gone nearly five months now, but bittersweet memories remained. She’d been convinced, despite all of the warning signs that said otherwise, that once they scaled a few hurdles his love for her would prove genuine and lasting. She’d been so sure of it. But his words at the end, just before the car accident stole his final breath, had cut through her heart like a rusty knife. Now all she had to show for the pair of years they’d spent together was the ridiculously-oversized diamond he’d insisted she wear—one that had constantly snagged on packages and utensils as she’d tried to prepare exquisitely garnished meals at the prestigious Chicago restaurant where they’d worked together. She’d finally, against Kurt’s demands, removed the cumbersome rock and tucked it into her jewelry box.

That’s not all you have, Jess. Shake it off…time to look forward, not back.

She swallowed hard and pressed a palm to her belly, letting it rest there for a moment or two before she turned her attention back to the mixing bowl. She whisked the batter, letting the action carry away a thrum of hurt. The past was done. There was no turning back. The future waited.

“Oh. My. Goodness.” Maggie O’Connor, owner and proprietor of the inn along with her husband, Dylan, strode into the kitchen. Her vibrant strawberry blonde hair bounced in a flurry of curls as she made a beeline to the cook island. Green eyes widened with delight as she peeked into the mixing bowl. “Whatever you’re whipping up, I want some. It smells like a slice of heaven.”

“I’m experimenting with a couple of recipes. The chocolate chip scones are ready. They’re cooling on the counter over there.” Jessica nodded and pointed with her elbow. “If you like them, I thought we’d serve a batch for breakfast tomorrow. I also threw together a platter of petit fours for the afternoon tea. They’re in the fridge. And this here is a batch of Grandma Sue’s angel food cake recipe that I plan to serve tonight as a special after-dinner treat.”

“Oh, then I have found heaven. It’s a proven fact that no one baked as well as your Grandma Sue—until you.” Maggie snatched a scone from the cooling rack and chanced a nibble. She closed her eyes on a sigh. “Oh, wow. This is definitely a yes for breakfast…or anytime. Yummy.”

“Thanks.” Jessica smiled…the first genuine smile that had touched her lips in weeks. From the first time she’d stepped into the inn as a child, when Maggie invited her to a sleepover the summer between sixth and seventh grades, she had always enjoyed the homey, welcoming feel of the inn. The two had remained close friends over the years…at least until they’d both gone their separate ways following high school graduation. The distance had caused them to lose touch for a few years but thankfully, they’d just recently reconnected.

She and Maggie had decided to serve family-style evening meals for the inn’s guests instead of cooking ala carte, extending that feeling to the dining area. It was up to Jess to finalize each day’s menu, and she was already having fun experimenting with all the hearty options.

“Wait until you taste the roast and baby potatoes that I tossed together and slipped into the oven.” She motioned with the whisk. “The mushroom gravy is a top-secret recipe and definitely to die for.”

“Ugh.” Maggie splayed a hand along her midsection. “I can already feel the waistband of my slacks constricting.”

The comment brought reality crashing down. Jessica’s slacks snugged tight as well, but not for the same reasons as Maggie’s.

Ready or not, you’re going to have a baby, Jess. Motherhood looms. Are you going to be able to handle all of your responsibilities for the inn and a baby?

The words niggled. When Maggie had called with the offer of a job, Jessica had had no idea what events the coming days would bring. As far as she knew, the run-down feeling that dogged her was a direct result of the aftermath of her blow-up with Kurt and, on the heels of that, his unexpected death. The pair of events had taken the wind from her sails and plagued her with flu-like symptoms that she couldn’t seem to shake.

So she’d trekked to the doctor in search of antibiotics, and had instead received the shock of her life.

She was pregnant.

Thankfully, the nausea had passed. But that merely meant her due date closed in.

“I’m so sorry, Maggie.” Jess frowned, remembering how she’d broken the news to Maggie soon after leaving the doctor’s office. “I would have told you about my…my situation sooner if I’d known. If you want to find a replacement chef, I completely understand. I’ll just pack up—”

“Hold it right there.” Maggie turned to face her with flashing green eyes. “Not another word about replacing you. That’s nonsense. This job is yours, Jess, and it will remain yours for as long as you’d like. When the baby comes, we’ll all pitch in and work it out. It’s the way we do things around here. No one gets left behind. Dylan and I are here for you, and Cameron’s happy to roll up his sleeves, as well. You’re not alone in this. The inn is your home now, for as long as you want to stay. End of discussion…end of story.”

Or just the beginning, Jess thought. A wonderful, bright beginning. If nothing messed it up. But something always managed to find a way. She forced the thought aside. Not here…not now.

Jessica fought back tears as she continued to work the whisk. Things felt so perfect here in the cove that it was hard to imagine she’d ever fought so hard to escape the close-knit town. Maggie and Dylan’s tireless renovations had renewed the inn to its original beauty and then some. Jess’s room right off the kitchen welcomed with bright and cheerful décor. She smiled as she thought of waking that morning to sunshine dancing over a sprawling bed of wave petunias and whimsical honeysuckle bushes coming into bloom. The scent had drifted through an open window, bringing a sense of contentment and a feeling of belonging that she hadn’t felt in months.

How fortunate she was to have a friend like Maggie. Her phone call had bridged the time and distance gaps, reminding Jess she was someone to be counted on when times were smooth as well as when the road proved rough.

Like now. Jessica splayed her free hand protectively over her belly. How was it possible to be gripped by doubt while also feeling such a sense of peace? A gentle warmth coursed through her as she thought of the life growing inside her. Life might have dealt her a disheartening blow, but nothing would stand between her and her baby.

“I’m so happy to be here.” Jess dropped the whisk and wiped her hands on her apron as she took a step toward Maggie. “Coming home again was meant to be. It’s simply perfect…a dream come true.”

“Oh, Jess.” Maggie threw her arms around Jessica and squeezed hard. “I’m happy, too. I’ve missed you so. Honeysuckle Cove is where you belong…where you’ve always belonged. It just took you a while to figure it out.”

“I know that now, but I definitely traveled the long road back. Just call me stubborn and hardheaded.”

“Well, if the shoe fits…”

They both laughed, because it was true. Jessica’s stubborn streak was known far and wide throughout the cove. It had ramped up in the years following her parents’ divorce when her mother took off, causing Jess and her father to lock horns continually during her high school years.

Except now Jessica’s laughter sounded hollow in her ears. This particular lesson had brought her life full circle. Where would she go from here and what did it all mean?

“Coffee?” Maggie asked, reaching into the cabinet beside the deep, double-basin sink for a pair of mugs and then for the carafe.

“Decaf if you have it.”

“Of course.” Maggie quirked an eyebrow. “Nothing but the best for your little guy.”

“Or girl.” The baby was going to be a girl. Jessica couldn’t explain the feeling of simply knowing, but she felt so sure. She’d know for certain in a few weeks, when she went for an ultrasound. She’d made an appointment with Doc Hutchins, who’d delivered just about every baby born in the cove over the past three decades.

Jessica sipped the coffee Maggie poured as she peered out the window overlooking the vast expanse of deck and the gardens beyond. Dylan had been hard at work all morning laying a stone walkway with the help of his nephew Cameron and another guy. The mystery man’s long limbs were clad in faded denim, and the shirt pulled taut across a terrain of muscles said he was no stranger to hard work. Something about the curve of his jaw and the way he moved with an easy, graceful ease seemed vaguely familiar. But he stood too far into the distance and shielded by a century-old willow for a clear view.

“Who’s that?” Jess strained for a better look, but a tousle of chocolate-colored hair hid his eyes.

Maggie peered over the rim of her coffee mug. “You don’t recognize him?”

“There’s something...” Jessica leaned toward the window and squinted into the sunshine. “I can’t quite put my finger on it. Should I recognize him?”

“Of course. We all went through school together.” Maggie gave her a knowing look. “Third period lunch, Saturday night bonfires on the hill overlooking Wanderlust Lake, mad scientist moves…”

“Rogan Brooks…from chemistry class?” Jessica tried to wrap her brain around the thought. “Rogan, who built a greenhouse from scratch for his mom for his senior honors project, and then nearly blew up the high school lab in his quest to concoct a fast-acting recipe for plant food?”

“Yep. Uh huh.”

“The same Rogan who earned me a three day suspension because I had this misfortune of pairing up with him as a lab partner on the day he pranked Miss Gilliam by letting one of the lab rats run lose in her desk drawer?”

“Yes, that Rogan. And even though Miss Gilliam had it in for him back then, I don’t think placing the rat in her desk was great idea.”

“What clued you in? The fact that she screeched like a banshee when it burrowed beneath her sleeve and crawled up her arm, or the wail of an ambulance as it arrived to transport her to the hospital for x-rays because she cracked her skull on the corner of her desk when she passed out cold?”

“Well, then there’s that. But I suppose the plant food recipe paid off, despite the damage to the lab. Rogan owns his own landscaping company now—Rare Earth Designs.” Maggie gestured toward a van parked at the side drive, emblazoned with the company logo. “And he’s filled out nicely, hasn’t he?”

“I’ll say.” Mud-splattered jeans and a mucky—was it once pale green—T-shirt merely served to enhance his looks. Eyes the color of rich, dark soil were framed by generous waves of hair. Jess imagined a spatter of stubble accentuated his jawline. “What happened to those horn-rimmed glasses he used to wear?”

“Oh, he retired those from everyday use years ago when he had eye surgery. I think he still dons a pair sometimes when he drives, though.” Maggie chuckled and then added, “And, despite the best efforts of all the bachelorettes around the cove, he’s still single.”

“Well, no surprise there.” Jessica’s belly gave an odd little flutter. Was it a touch of nervous anticipation…or the baby kicking? “He always said he’d never marry.”

“And I said I would never return to Honeysuckle Cove for anything more than a quick visit, let alone manage this inn. But now I cannot imagine sharing my life with anyone besides Dylan. I love the idea of returning the inn to its original beauty as we build our future together here in the cove.” She pursed her lips on a sigh. “People change, Jess.”

“My life has certainly taken its fair share of unexpected detours.” Jessica’s laugh rang high-pitched and just a bit shaky. “So I’m not looking for any more surprises—especially if Rogan Brooks is involved.”

“Sometimes even when you’re not looking, those surprises have a way of finding you and latching tight.”

“Regardless, I’m not interested in rekindling anything with Rogan…not that there were any sparks to begin with.”

“That’s not what you said when we were in high school.” Maggie waggled a finger. “You were over the moon for him.”

.

“And all he ever did was get me into trouble.”

“So, he was a little bit rowdy and sort of shy.” She eyed Jess over the rim of her coffee mug. “I think he’s gotten over both of those traits.”

“It’s a moot point. High school was a long time ago…another lifetime.” She shook her head, refusing to allow her gaze to drift toward Rogan again. “And even if I still harbored an interest in him—which I’m not saying I do—Rogan’s sure to sprint away as if his life depends on it when he learns I’m expecting another man’s child. I told you, he said he’d never get married and that he’d only have kids if and when that unmentionable, vast depth below our feet freezes over.”

“In that case, I’m feeling a little chill.” Maggie glanced down at her wedding band with a wistful smile. A soft breeze carried the fragrant scent of honeysuckle through the open window over the sink. “Never say never around here, Jess. Take it from me…wonderful, unexpected things have been known to happen to those who venture along the grounds of Honeysuckle Cove Inn.”

 

~~~~~

 

 

Thanks for visiting! I hope you've enjoyed this visit to Honeysuckle Cove. Please leave a comment to be entered into the drawing for a copy of Showered by Love. Winner will be announced Monday, July 17.

 

 



 



Week 20: Embracing Hope by Janell Butler Wojtowicz

Embracing Hope

 

 



Christian college dean Drew McKinley mourns his dead wife and still wears his wedding ring. He stumbles on a desperate journey to understand God’s motives for her tragic death. Crossing his perilous path is Allison, a graduate student and new employee in the dean’s office. Even as she deals with financial hardships, she recognizes Drew’s unresolved grief from her own loss. Putting up a roadblock is Chris Whitney, the handsome but egotistical student senate president. He carries the secret burden of a dysfunctional family and a below-the-surface temper. The road Drew must navigate is fraught with career upheaval, a reawakening heart, substance and domestic abuse, a violent assault, and the struggle for forgiveness and restoration. Will Drew finish his journey to embrace the hope God offers, the love Allison shares, and the guidance Chris needs, or will he turn his back on all three with catastrophic consequences?

Chapter 1:

Drew McKinley twisted the gold wedding band around and around his finger then made a tight fist. He wandered over to his office window and stared at the scurry of activity on the Riley University quad. The scene brought a spark of eagerness that almost overshadowed the sadness clinging to him. Yet the low gray clouds and drizzle wrapped him in a drowsy blanket, and he closed his eyes.

      “It’s a new school year, Lord. I need patience, strength, and understanding.” He stopped, not knowing what else to pray for.

      When he opened his eyes, they rested on the large, white gazebo in the middle of the green expansive quad. His heart thumped at the memory of kissing his wife, Kendra, in front of over two thousand cheering college students when he was introduced as their new dean last September. Had it only been a year? It felt like a lifetime. At times, a horrible dream. Would he ever wake up?

      A car horn jolted Drew, and he gazed at the disorganized procession of cars, pickups, motorcycles, and bicycles parading onto the suburban Omaha, Nebraska campus. Within minutes, hundreds of students, ranging from eighteen-year-old, wide-eyed freshmen to forty-something seminarians, fanned out among the stately red brick Colonial Revival buildings. Inside Williams Administration Hall, the robust aroma of hazelnut coffee from RU Grounded, the coffee shop on the first level, wafted into Drew’s second floor office. Youthful male and female voices echoed up and down the hallways.

      Sharon Abbott, the assistant dean, hummed “This is the Day the Lord Hath Made” in the outer office. Drew peered out and saw her polishing the top of the desk intended for the new communications specialist. At age fifty-five, Sharon had as much energy as the students. Today, Drew needed that energy.

      “Allison starts work today, remember?” Sharon asked as he emerged from his office. “I hoped you’d get to meet her first, but you were tied up with freshmen orientation. Did you read through her resume?” Still holding the can of polish and dust cloth, she scrutinized him with a protectiveness that reminded him of his mother. Despite her five-foot-two buxom stature, she had proven to be a formidable presence with the students—and him.

      Drew nodded and shrugged on his charcoal gray suit jacket then tightened his red and white striped tie. When Kendra had given him the tie that first Christmas they were married, he had joked that it looked like a candy cane. It was his favorite.

      “R-U ready?”

      Startled by the booming voice behind him, he spun around to the cheery face of campus pastor Mitch Lindstrom.

      “Just about.” Drew misbuttoned his jacket and with an impatient sigh re-buttoned it. The tie didn’t feel right, either, so he started over. He would never get used to tying it himself.

      “Are you OK?” Mitch’s smile dimmed and his eyes behind the glasses registered concern, which irritated Drew.

      “I’m fine.” He hesitated then returned to his office and picked up the new Bible from the corner of his cluttered mahogany desk. Andrew Everett McKinley was embossed in gold script at the bottom of the black leather cover. It was Kendra’s last Christmas gift to him. “What’s the student senate’s theme verse this year?” He opened the Bible, but didn’t have a clue where to look.

      Mitch’s forehead furrowed. “You’re the one who chose it: Psalm 16:11.”

      Drew paged through the crisp pages, found the passage, and accepting a yellow Post-It note from Sharon, marked the page and closed the Bible. Mitch led the way out of the office suite.

      The two men sauntered down the cavernous corridor of the three-story edifice and down the mahogany curved staircase.

      He sensed Mitch’s scrutiny, so he squared his shoulders and tried to look motivated.

      Mitch broke the silence. “It’s going to be a great year.”

      The inane comment from the articulate pastor pulled a chuckle from Drew. “Can’t you think of anything better to say?”

      “Yes. You’ve been distracted the last couple of weeks, and I’m worried about you.”

      “I can take care of myself,” he muttered, glancing at his Rolex watch: seven-forty-five.

      “I know you can, but are you?” Mitch asked.

      Drew patted his friend on the shoulder as they stepped outside. The sun burst through the clouds bathing the campus in golden morning light. People streamed up the sidewalks toward Riley Community Church greeting the two men with enthusiasm. Drew took a deep cleansing breath of the rain freshened air and his sadness waned.

***

      Continuing an eighty-nine-year tradition, Riley University’s two thousand undergraduate students and five hundred graduate students gathered at eight o’clock Monday through Friday morning for the required half hour chapel service. The first service of the year was always a major event. Even the faculty and staff were “invited” to attend. Dr. Jacob Sullivan, president for twenty years, would open chapel with prayer, a traditional hymn, and motivational words inspiring enough to spur even the laziest student to pursue excellence—for at least the first week.

      Allison Bennett wasn’t one of the lazy students. As she had for five years, she sat near the front in the left section, and listened to Dr. Sullivan. A teenage couple lost in their budding romance cuddled and cooed beside her in the pew. She cleared her throat to get their attention and cast them a stern look. Embarrassed, they focused on the president.

      During the hymn, Allison sized up the day ahead. Two classes, lunch, work, night class, home to study, call her mother, and hopefully get to bed before midnight. She said a silent prayer once again thanking God for the scholarship and part-time job that enabled her to enroll in Riley’s graduate school.

      “R-U ready? R-U willing? R-U able?” Drew McKinley bellowed. He punched the air with his fist and propelled his tall, lean body up the side stairs onto the podium. The students responded with cheers, followed by rapt attention.

      “I’ve got twenty minutes of announcements so there will be no sermon today.” Drew threw a comical glare at Pastor Lindstrom seated in the dark blue upholstered deacon’s chair behind him. More cheers. Drew didn’t stand behind the ornate mahogany pulpit, but strolled back and forth across the edge of the podium. His rich baritone resonated throughout the majestic sanctuary. He made five minutes’ worth of obligatory announcements punctuated by banter about freshmen jitters and the senior countdown to graduation.

      Allison observed the exuberance on the students’ faces, but couldn’t share it. She had much more important things to focus on than collegiate rah-rah, such as her new job. She still questioned the purple linen blouse that her roommate Renee talked her into buying, yet the “Buy One, Get One Half Price” deal had made it worth the investment. It was dressier than the clothes she usually wore to class, but Renee insisted Allison dress for the business world.

      “And don’t wear your hair in that juvenile ponytail,” Renee had whined, tugging on it as Allison walked out the door of their apartment that morning.

      Allison felt comfortable in the new black slacks, though, and she had taken time to re-iron the perfectly aligned creases down the legs. She hoped everything wouldn’t be too wrinkled by the time she got to work at one o’clock.

      “The senate selected an exceptional theme this year. It’s Journey Down the Path of Life based on Psalm 16:11. ‘You have made known to me the path of life. You will fill me with joy in Your presence, with eternal pleasures at Your right hand,’” Drew read with fervor.

      Allison perked up at Drew’s words, surprised to see him reading from the Bible. She didn’t recall him ever using it in chapel last year.

      “Consider today the first mile of your journey. Many more miles lie ahead, some with curves, speed bumps, and detours, but I guarantee the destination will be worth it when you follow His road map.” He held up the Bible, a broad smile on his face.

      A handsome face; although maybe a bit pale. No surprise there. Drew’s gaze swept the auditorium, seeming to connect with each person, a communication tactic Allison wished she had attained. He obviously loved being on stage and among youth. Or was this his public façade? What was he like off the stage? What did he go through when his wife died so tragically? How did he handle being alone now?

      Drew’s eyes connected with hers. They remained locked for a long second then his fingers swept through his thick wavy dark brown hair. They exchanged smiles and Allison flushed, a rare sensation.

***

      Drew returned from lunch in the student dining hall to an empty office suite. A stack of mail sat on his desk, and he shuffled through it with disinterest. Seminars, invoices, the Chronicle of Higher Education. More junk. He dropped into the black high-back leather chair and reached for the phone to call the next person on his lengthy list, the athletic director.

      “Excuse me, Mr. McKinley,” a smooth alto voice said from the doorway. “I’m Allison Bennett, the new communications specialist. I’m here to see Ms. Abbott, but she’s not in her office.”

      Drew stood, motioned her in, and grasped her hand in welcome before he realized this was the girl—no, the woman— who caught his attention at chapel. He quickly let go of her hand and spoke with more enthusiasm than necessary, “Please, call me Drew!”

      Lush chestnut hair cascaded in gentle waves to just below her shoulders. Wispy bangs brushed dark eyebrows that framed green eyes. A faint yet warm smile graced her lips. He had seen her before: in church, the dining hall, and with Sharon briefly last week. But she was among the dozens of students he had never formally met. Too many students. Never enough time.

      “It looks like Sharon is literally out to lunch.” He gestured for her to take a seat.

      She placed her worn blue backpack on the floor and eased into the guest chair in front of Drew’s desk, posture straight, chin high, confidence in her eyes.

      “We’re happy to have you with us, uh, ….” What’s her name? Angela? Andrea?

      “Allison.”

      “Yes, Allison. Sharon has been inundated since her last assistant left to get married. She’s relieved to have found you.”

      “And I’m relieved she hired me,” Allison replied. “I almost gave up on grad school, but thanks to this job and the Hope Scholarship I got at the last minute, I’m here.”

      A flutter in his heart at the mention of the scholarship distracted Drew for a moment, but he refocused on Allison. “The new one-year full-ride scholarship? Congratulations.”

      “It’s a God Thing, that’s for sure. My goal is to get my master’s degree in three semesters, since this is my sixth year at Riley.”

      “Six years? Then you must have attended part-time?” Drew asked.

      Allison tucked a lock of hair behind her left ear displaying a small silver hoop earring. “Yes, I did. It’s hard for students like me to graduate in four years because we have to get jobs— sometimes more than one at a time—to avoid overwhelming student loans. Fortunately, I got a lot of scholarships, supplemented them with jobs, and had a full-time temp job at the Omaha World Herald this summer.”

      Drew settled back in his chair and looked Allison square in the eyes. They were more than just green. They were a striking emerald reminding him of the necklace he had given Kendra for her twenty-fifth birthday. He gulped the memory away. Would the flashbacks ever end?

      “I’m not sure how familiar you are with our student life team,” he began. “In addition to Sharon, Aaron Coffman is director of residence life. The front office staff manages activities, daily student interaction, and administrative coordination. We don’t oversee the graduate or seminary programs, which is a good thing. Another five hundred students would overwhelm us.”

      Drew’s desk phone jangled and seeing the caller ID he reached for it. “Just a minute. It’s the president so I need to get this.”

      As he listened to Dr. Sullivan’s kudos and observations on the first chapel, Drew noticed Allison’s glittering eyes sweep the office. He was relieved he had taken his spare suit to the executive gym in the lower level that morning; otherwise it would be hanging on the coat rack. No use having a new employee confirm the rumor that had been circulating the campus for seven months. His office had become his den, sometimes his bedroom, thanks to the comfortable leather sofa against a wall.

      Today, a red and black RU afghan lay decorously draped across the back. Blue and white University of Connecticut accent pillows rested on either end. Assorted books and thick black binders sat on polished floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookshelves on one wall. There were photos of his parents, casual shots of his brother and two sisters with their families, and the photo of him and Kendra taken on a Maui beach two summers before. His favorite artwork, a New England summer landscape painting that reminded him of home, hung on another wall. A door in a far corner of the room connected to a hall that led to the gym and the building’s back exit, which came in handy for quick get-aways.

      As the call ended, Drew noticed Allison’s eyes fix on the empty red blown-glass bowl in the middle of the oblong conference table. Kendra had always kept the bowl filled with peanut M&Ms.

      “The student life division deals with the social, cultural, community-building, volunteer, and leadership aspects of the undergraduate students’ time here at Riley,” Drew said increased volume to regain her attention. “We engage students through organizations, events and activities. Thanks to some effective committees and a solid student senate, we’ve got an outstanding program that many colleges emulate. In fact, Riley is thought of as a Christian Ivy League university.”

      A dimple popped on the right cheek of Allison’s face as a broader smile emerged. “That’s on the home page of the website, the student handbook, and all admissions material.”

      “You’re observant,” he chuckled. “We’ll keep busy this year. We have a new student senate president, three clubs have been chartered, and enrollment is up seven percent. If we’re not careful, we’ll outgrow the campus.”

      “Be thankful for that.” Allison stared him down. “Many Christian colleges are struggling with declining enrollment. Some have closed. Others are getting so expensive that students can’t afford to attend unless they work more hours than they’re in class. Some colleges are becoming elitist because not even middle-class students can afford them. But I’m sure you’re aware of all that.”

      Her frankness surprised Drew and he slid his chair up to the desk. “Do you think Riley is elitist, Allison?”

      “Not yet, but it might come to that if tuition keeps rising and the administration loses touch with the students’ needs.”

      Whoa! Did she just tell me off? He rested his forearms on the desktop, weaving his fingers together. As much as he would like to discuss this with her more, he knew it would end in a juggernaut. Better move on. “I think I’ve seen you at campus church.”

      “Yes. We’ve attended since we came here.”

      “We?” His glance drifted to Allison’s bare left hand lying on her lap. A small black-banded watch wrapped around her wrist.

      “My roommate and me, Renee Landers. She graduated in May with a business administration degree and is assistant manager at a boutique in Oak View Mall.”

      Sharon dashed over the threshold into Drew’s office. “Good, you two are finally getting acquainted. Sorry to be late, Allison. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” Allison rose, swept up her backpack, and again extended her hand to Drew.

      He gave it an extra grasp. “Welcome to the student life department, Allison.”

      After they left, Drew sifted through the files on his desk to locate Allison’s resume. He had scanned it earlier, but didn’t remember anything beyond the bachelor’s degree in communication. He pulled up her student records on the network and perused the basics. Born in Nebraska, father deceased, no siblings. Until her senior year in high school, she attended Linden School District, in Morris, Nebraska. She graduated valedictorian from Prairie Ridge Community School in Iowa. She came to Riley a year after high school graduation. Commuter student. Twenty-five years old.

      Drew continued reading with increased interest. Allison had received numerous prestigious scholarships, maintained a 3.9 GPA as an undergrad, and had a full class load this semester in the academically rigorous Business Communications graduate program. Impressive. But how can she take five courses, including a night class, and work part-time? She’ll burn out before Halloween.

      He recalled Allison’s tone about balancing work and studies under financial strain and felt as if he had been scolded by his father.

 

            I am not out of touch.

~~~~~

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