“That’s so sad.” Shelby scratched behind a black cat’s ears before they left the room. He purred and followed her until Connie closed the door. “All because of how they look?”
“I’m afraid so.” Connie opened the door to the dog area. They walked past rows and rows of dogs in bare cement-floor cages all waiting for their forever homes. Shelby’s heart twisted for every single one of them.
Connie used her swipe pass to get into a room near the back. “I’m hoping this guy in here is yours. He was dropped off two nights ago. A trucker found him at a gas station near the highway and worried he’d get hit. He’s an old boy and doesn’t hear well. If he’s not yours, you may want to think about taking him. We’re so overcrowded right now that he’s set to be euthanized when the vet stops in at noon.”
Shelby gasped and Joel motioned for Connie to open the door. She had only moved it an inch before Dante bounded out. The dog launched himself into Joel’s arms, all happy wiggles and flying fur.
“Boy, am I glad to see you.” Joel hugged Dante to his neck.
Shelby glanced at the clock on the wall. Eleven. One more hour and they would have put Dante to sleep. Just assumed that no one wanted an old, deaf dog. How many animals met that fate every day? Her stomach turned.
Joel clipped the leash he’d brought to Dante’s collar and promised Connie he’d get ID tags and his state license right away. He loaded Dante into the front of the truck and then turned and pulled Shelby in for a hug. “This is the single best day of my life.”
“Best?” She laid her hands on his chest so she could look him in the eyes. “Did you hear that woman? They almost killed Dante.”
“But they didn’t.”
“By an hour.”
“God got us here on time.”
“Still. Dante getting lost shouldn’t have happened.”
Joel tucked a wayward hair behind Shelby’s ear. “We can never change the past. You and I both know that better than anyone. All we can do is learn from it and show grace to others whenever we have the chance.”
Shelby climbed into the cab beside Dante, who waited for Joel and then rested his head on his leg. Dante let out a long, happy sigh. With her hand in the dog’s fur, Shelby called the rest of the search party and told them the good news.
Joel laid one of his hands over Shelby’s and they drove in silence. Almost like a happy little family for the first half of the ride home. But Shelby couldn’t shake the thought that if they’d been delayed another hour, or had called the shelters in a different order, Dante would be dead. The information Connie had shared about the black cats bothered her, too. Animals shouldn’t face death because people weren’t comfortable with how they looked or believed some misinformation about them.
An idea hit her. She tugged her hand out from under Joel’s and braced it on the dashboard. “I finally know what I want to do. With my life. For the future.”
Joel rested his arm on the back of the seat and ran his fingers over the end of her pony tail. “I’d love to hear about it.”
“I don’t know how I’ll find the money, but I’m going to start a nonkill animal shelter in Goose Harbor. We’ll take older animals and unwanted ones that are hard to place and find them forever homes. My slogan will be something like Find Home at Last. I mean, I came up with that off the top of my head. But anything along those lines would work.” She peeked over at Joel who grinned from ear to ear. “What do you think? Be honest.”
“I think it’s the perfect fit for you.”
“So let’s start brainstorming ways I can come up with the money.”
“How about this time around I’ll just float you the cash.”
“Um. I don’t think you comprehend how much an operation like that would take to get off the ground.”
She would need land, a building, supplies and insurance to start. It had to be in the six figures dollar-wise merely to get off the ground, and Joel was a man with few possessions and a hole in the floorboard of his truck.
Joel traced the back of her neck. “Believe me. I know what I’m promising. If you haven’t noticed by now, I live pretty meagerly and have for the past ten years that I’ve been working full-time. There’s a pretty good stockpile in my back account.”
“I can’t take your money.”
“Shelby, listen to me. I couldn’t care less about material things. All I’ve ever wanted was someone to love who loves me back, and I have that now. I don’t need the money. It’s just sitting there. It would make me ten times happier to see you pursue your dream than let interest keep gathering.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” He reached for her, laced his fingers with hers and then kissed the back of her hand. “This—” he kissed it again “—is all I need. Just don’t let go.”
“I never will.” She tightened her hold and hoped he understood she meant forever.
They spent the rest of the day dreaming up plans for her animal shelter, and in between planning, they snuck in a kiss or two—or five—just to make sure they were making good on their earlier promise to enjoy the present as much as they could.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from HEALING THE WIDOWER’S HEART by Susan Anne Mason.
Dear Reader,
Sometimes life is hard. There’s no other way to put it. During the times when life hurts, we often find ourselves asking: Where’s God in the midst of this?
Joel and Shelby both had things happen to them that they had no control over—like Joel being abandoned by his mother and growing up in the foster system, and Shelby getting burned in the church fire. On the other hand, both of them made poor choices in their lives that also caused problems. Joel committed arson, ran away and tried to hide his past. Shelby swallowed her dreams and pushed people away so she wouldn’t have to face the possibility of rejection.
The fact is, we all have scars and we all want to be loved as is. Living a full life requires opening up and being vulnerable to others—which can be scary—but it’s worth it in the end. Above all, we can take comfort knowing that God has always loved us just as we are—even before we were willing to love and accept ourselves.
I hope you enjoyed visiting Goose Harbor and getting to know Joel and Shelby. Please come back often and learn what happens to your favorite characters in future books. You can find out more about the Goose Harbor series and see all of my books by visiting www.jessicakellerbooks.com.
Dream Big,
Jess Keller
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.
You believe hearts can heal. Love Inspired stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.
Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired every month!
Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
HarlequinBlog.com
http://www.harlequin.com/harlequinexperience
Chapter One
Paige McFarlane paced the patterned carpet of the front office, her fingers clenched in the pockets of her khaki shorts. How could George put her in this position?
Seated behind his mahogany desk, the burly manager of Wyndermere House tapped a pen on his blotter. “A seven-year-old boy desperately needs your help, Paige. His father is a longtime customer, as well as a personal friend. You’d be doing us both a big favor, not to mention helping a child.”
Paige stopped to face her employer and friend, trying hard not to picture a devastated little boy grieving the loss of his mother. Trying hard not to allow memories of her own horrific loss creep back into her consciousness. “My heart goes out to him, George, but I have no practical experience in grief counseling. He deserves a qualified professional.”
George Reynolds’s bushy eyebrows snagged in the middle of his
broad forehead. “They tried that already, but it didn’t work out.”
Perspiration dampened Paige’s palms as she fought the beginning of panic. “I’m not sure this would even be ethical since I haven’t earned my certification yet.” I’m not ready for this.
“Don’t worry. I’ll make it clear that you’d treat Zach more in the capacity of a camp counselor.”
Paige noted the pleading gleam in her boss’s brown eyes, and felt her resolve slipping. Why was she always such a sucker for someone needing help? She really should practice saying no more often. Psychology student, heal thyself.
“Zach is already enrolled in your Bible camp, so you’ll have lots of time together.” He fixed her with a pensive stare. “You could use some extra money for school, right?”
Paige winced. Understatement of the year—not to mention a low blow. George knew she was scraping together every last penny for her final year of her master’s degree.
“You know I could,” she said quietly.
George swiveled in his leather chair. “Why not look at this as an opportunity to make some cash on the side then?”
“I don’t know, George...” She twisted a loose strand of blond hair around her index finger, doubts wreaking havoc with her desire to help. Textbooks were all well and good, but could she honestly say she was ready to handle a troubled boy’s grief? What if she made a mistake and compounded the problem?
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t confident you could help.”
Paige groaned and dropped back into the guest chair. George had been her boss since she’d started working at Wyndermere House in her teens, and he knew all too well how to use her weaknesses against her.
“Will you at least meet Nate and Zach and see how you feel? They arrive tomorrow morning, which will give you a couple of days before camp starts.”
He looked so hopeful Paige didn’t have the heart to say no. And the extra money wouldn’t hurt.
“Fine.” She threw up her hands in defeat. “I’ll meet them. But I can’t promise any more than that.”
His smile created wrinkles around his eyes. “Thanks, kiddo. I knew I could count on you.”
Good old Paige. Everyone could always count on her. She sighed a few minutes later as she pushed out the employees’ entrance onto the wraparound porch. What had she gotten herself into? This could be a huge disaster in the making.
She paused to lean against the stone wall, taking in the view of the velvet lawn sloping toward the lake, and allowed the beauty of God’s handiwork to steady her. The tension in her shoulder muscles eased a fraction.
Other than her hometown of Portsmouth, New Jersey, the Finger Lakes region of New York rated as close to perfection as Paige could imagine. She’d been coming here during the summer for as long as she could remember—first on vacation with her family, and later as an activity coordinator for children. She loved everything about Wyndermere House—the majesty of the sprawling stone inn, the breathtaking scenery surrounding it and most of all, the wonderful people who’d become like family.
George and Catherine Reynolds had turned this beautiful setting into a five-star resort, while using the rustic cabins farther back on the property as a summer camp for kids. Parents could leave their children under the counselors’ care and partake of the resort’s amenities, knowing their kids were having a blast at camp.
Paige reached into her pocket for her sunglasses, and her fingers brushed the envelope she’d hastily stuffed there before her meeting with George. Immediate tension cinched her spine as she recalled the message typed inside. “Second installment of tuition fees due.”
Paige unclenched her fingers and released the envelope. Maybe God was giving her a gentle nudge—an opportunity to increase her finances, as well as a way to ease into the type of work she wanted to do. Still, she couldn’t quite quell her anxiety. Would she be able to treat this boy without falling victim to the paralyzing emotions that had engulfed her after Colin’s death?
Was she brave enough to try?
* * *
Nathan Porter scowled over the massive desk at George and bit back the words that burned on his tongue. Despite his friend’s good intentions, George was meddling where he didn’t belong.
“Look, Nate, you can’t give up on counseling. From what you’ve told me, Zach’s behavior is getting worse.”
Nathan scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “We tried therapy and got nowhere. Zach hated every minute of it, and other than yelling obscenities at the therapist, refused to say a word. I came here for a break from all that.”
“So you’re going to do what? Hide from your problems all summer?”
Nathan clamped his mouth shut to rein in his anger. He wouldn’t take his ill humor out on one of his best friends. “After what I’ve been through, I think I deserve some time off.”
“That’s all well and good, but what happens in September?”
Nathan stalked over to the window, where he stared out at the large expanse of water with unseeing eyes. That simple question summed up his greatest fear. Five months after his wife’s sudden death, Zach was in serious emotional turmoil. Nothing Nathan did made any difference. In fact, his efforts seemed to make matters worse. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. If only the pain would go away—just for a little while—maybe Nathan could think clearly again.
A warm hand squeezed Nathan’s shoulder. “Are your in-laws still on your back?”
“They’re threatening to sue for custody if things haven’t improved by September.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Apparently they called the school and found out Zach had been suspended for fighting. And they know I’m still not working—which gives them two good excuses to claim I’m an unfit parent.”
George leaned a shoulder against the window frame. “Then why not see if Paige can get through to Zach? You’ll be no worse off.”
Nathan clenched his teeth, his idea for a peaceful respite slipping away as surely as his control over his life had. He closed his eyes for a moment, before turning to face his old friend. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to meet her.”
“Great. I knew you’d come around to my way of thinking.”
Nathan shot George a stern look. “I have one condition. I’d like to keep my profession out of this.”
George frowned. “I don’t see what—”
“Take it or leave it.” Nathan’s deep humiliation over his inability to work for the past ten months was not something he wished to discuss with anyone, especially a stranger.
George shook his head. “Fine. I’ll leave that part up to you.” He glanced at his watch. “Paige should be here any minute. I’m sure you’ll like her as much as everyone else does.”
As if on cue, a knock sounded. George strode over to swing the door open. “Come on in, kid. You’re right on time.”
Kid was right. Nathan frowned as a slim, blonde girl entered the room. Surely this couldn’t be the grief counselor. Dressed in beige shorts and a green polo shirt containing the Wyndermere logo, her hair looped back in a ponytail, she had the fresh-faced, makeup-free complexion of a high school student.
“Paige, this is my friend Nathan Porter. Nathan, our camp director, Paige McFarlane.”
The girl stepped forward, a sympathetic smile on her face, and held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Porter. I’m so sorry to hear about your recent loss.”
He took her hand, surprised by the softness of her fingers and the almost too personal squeeze she gave. Irritation prickled the back of his neck and he quickly released her hand. He turned on George, not even attempting to disguise his disapproval. “You expect me to believe this teenager is qualified to help my son?”
The girl stiffened, her arms clenched tight at her sides. “I’m hardly a teenager.” She glared at him with cool green eyes. Her frosty tone should have deterred him, but it didn’t.
“What kind of experience could you possibly have dealing with grief-stricken children? You look like you’re barely out o
f high school yourself.”
A splash of rosy color bled through her cheeks. George placed a large hand on her shoulder, whether to comfort her or warn her, Nathan wasn’t sure.
“Paige has almost finished her master’s degree in psychology, including courses in grief counseling. I wouldn’t recommend her if I wasn’t confident in her abilities.”
Master’s degree? A quick calculation put her age somewhere in her midtwenties—not so very far from him after all. Why wasn’t that thought more comforting?
She lifted her chin and crossed her arms, as if prepared for battle. “I don’t have any formal experience, but I have worked with children for years, both here and volunteering with various programs at home. In addition, I have an undergraduate degree in child psychology. I’m willing to meet your son and at least do an initial assessment. After that you can decide what is acceptable to you.”
Her direct gaze caused him to squirm in his suit jacket. He wasn’t usually so rude. He wasn’t usually such a mess either. The nautical clock on George’s desk ticked out the seconds while Nathan fought an internal debate. He looked from one to the other and finally released a long breath. “I guess we’ve got nothing to lose.”
“Excellent.” George clapped him on the back, relief softening the strain around his mouth.
Miss McFarlane looked around the room and raised a brow. “Where is your son? I’d like to meet him.”
“With Lou in the kitchen. I’ll go get him.” Nathan strode out the door at top speed. Around the first corner, he stopped and sagged against the wall, laboring for air.
This was supposed to be a relaxing retreat, a time to get his life back in order. But now—like everything else around him—the situation seemed to be spinning out of his control.
George had better know what he was doing. Zach’s well-being depended on it.
The Fireman's Secret Page 18
