Dear Reader (#u42d5a1ac-c700-55f7-be5a-6a4566713b23),
I hope you’ve enjoyed Ryan and Shelby’s story and beautiful North Bend, Washington. Earlier this year, my sister and I visited friends there. I was quite taken with the town and so inspired by all the amazing scenery. I decided it would be a great setting for a story. Apparently I’m not the only one, since the TV series Twin Peaks was also filmed there.
Both Ryan and Shelby grew up in dysfunctional homes, but they each had someone with a strong faith who was a guiding light. For Ryan, it was his best friend’s father. For Shelby, it was her aunt. And though the path was winding and it took some time for both of them to come to the place of developing their own faith, eventually those long-ago efforts bore fruit.
May we each be that “someone” whom God uses to make an eternal impact on others’ lives.
Love in Christ,
Carol
The Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon him...
—Psalms 145:18
Thanks to my friend Nicole Little, who showed me around North Bend and Snoqualmie and patiently answered a gazillion questions.
Thanks to my son-in-law Mike Daunis, who helped me with all things navy. (Thank you for your twenty years of service.)
Thanks to my sister Kimberly Wolff, who not only plots with me but has a built-in radar and works hard to keep this directionally challenged author straight. You’re the best sis ever!
Thank you to my editor, Dina Davis, and my critique partners, Karen Fleming and Sabrina Jarema, for making my stories the best they can be.
And thank you to my husband, Chris, for encouragement, computer help, brainstorming and buying me chocolate.
Contents
Cover (#u79026b16-2396-57bd-bb6d-e435676476b5)
Back Cover Text (#u7bf1b445-f74d-5103-ae35-e0f3b5025e78)
About the Author (#u0f03cd81-b8b5-5822-9c1e-bc81ddd7a0d9)
Booklist (#u53080e3a-8302-572a-80ef-fe126c866353)
Title Page (#ud01f9f75-a364-5af9-a4e8-abedd53b6331)
Copyright (#ua9d86220-c9e0-51d2-a452-6dfca581d714)
Note to Readers
Introduction (#u88dce619-8634-54ba-8249-1de68c75fa14)
Dear Reader (#udc0245c2-bab2-50a2-8e91-f9d3939fba95)
Bible Verse (#u0b138aef-9de7-558a-a8f8-b6587ef26fe8)
Dedication (#u9cf283da-34fa-52f4-b8ac-404204dd2ecf)
ONE (#ub37fd8f8-025b-57e4-9f74-88aad00db832)
TWO (#u27f6c07c-1107-53c1-a4dd-695b79fca85d)
THREE (#u04a3d6f7-c9d0-5bdd-a6bb-de222e1cd929)
FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
ONE (#u42d5a1ac-c700-55f7-be5a-6a4566713b23)
Shelby Adair cruised down I-90, trying to drum up some enthusiasm for the evening ahead. No matter how she pitched it, she couldn’t find many bright spots in the prospect of spending two or three hours with her self-absorbed sister.
But Mia’s company wasn’t the reason she’d scheduled the dinner date. She was an aunt. And she was going to be a good one.
She cast a glance over her shoulder and moved into the far-left lane. Soon she’d cross Lake Washington and join the other vehicles that made up Seattle’s rush-hour traffic. But during the late afternoon, coming in wasn’t as bad as going out. Barring the unexpected, she should arrive at Mia’s apartment complex in thirty minutes.
She was seeing her sister twice in one month. That was a record. But she’d had a valid reason for avoiding contact. Between caring for their dying aunt and keeping the diner afloat, she’d had a full plate. Dealing with Mia’s theatrics would have sent her over the edge.
Now that her aunt was gone, she had no excuse. Besides, she did want to connect with her fifteen-month-old niece. And with her dysfunctional childhood nine years behind her, she might have a shot at developing a relationship with one of her siblings.
It wouldn’t happen with her older sister. Lauren had escaped at eighteen, moved to the other side of the country and never looked back. She hadn’t even responded to Shelby’s voice mails and Facebook messages about their aunt. She hadn’t come to the funeral, either.
Ten minutes later, brake lights lit up the road, and Shelby slowed to a crawl. This was one reason she was glad she’d left Seattle for the sleepy, picturesque town of North Bend. It was only thirty miles away but had always felt like a small chunk of paradise.
She finally exited the interstate and negotiated her Lincoln Town Car through a series of turns. Mia’s apartment complex was ahead on the right. Red and blue lights strobed through trees still bare from winter.
As she moved closer, the muscles drew tight across her shoulders. Two Seattle police cruisers and a crime-scene unit sat in front of the building that housed Mia’s apartment.
Her sister’s words echoed in her thoughts, fragments of a conversation they’d had after the funeral. Mia had said there was something going on at the club where she worked, that if she stumbled across exactly what it was, her life would be in danger. Shelby hadn’t taken her seriously at the time.
She still didn’t. Mia was the ultimate drama queen, the proverbial “girl who cried wolf.” Anything for attention. She’d been crafting fantastic stories since she was old enough to talk.