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Veronica, or Roni as everyone called her, said, nodding her head. Her long brown ponytail bobbed as she strolled away, her whole stance reminding Gabi of the girls’ deceased father, Octavio.

      “Works for me,” Talia said, launching her tiny body against Gabi’s skirt. “I’m glad you’re home, Mommy.”

      “Me, too, baby,” Gabi said, her thoughts still on the handsome stranger she’d found painting the daycare room at church. “Now do me a big favor and turn off that television. You need to finish your school work before you watch any more TV.”

      Talia mumbled her protest, but did as Gabi asked, while Gabi went back to thinking about the man she’d met today.

      He sure did fit the role of the strong, silent type. Not too forthcoming with details. Good-looking and surely a gentleman. It wasn’t so much his clothes—even though they’d been old and paint-covered she could tell they’d probably cost a pretty penny new. It was the way he carried himself, the way he smiled, or tried not to smile. He seemed like a man who could be comfortable in any setting, even a church nursery. Could be. At first, he’d seemed unsure, until she’d made him laugh. And what a nice laugh he had, a little rusty and throaty, but very enticing.

      Stop it, she told herself as she opened a can of vegetable soup, then dug inside the refrigerator to find cheese for grilled cheese sandwiches.

      But Gabi had always been too curious for her own good. She’d always been able to single out wounded souls, according to her mother, Marisol Marquez.

      “You have a gift for helping others, Gabi,” her mother used to tell her. “A nurturing soul.”

      Well, that nurturing soul hadn’t helped her save her own husband, Gabi thought now. Which was why she’d made a solemn vow since his death to put her children first. Love wasn’t in her future, except for the love she felt for her girls, and the love she felt for God’s enduring salvation. She was a working mother and a widow who’d soon turn thirty. She had a steady job in administration at Community General and she had a good solid group of friends at church. She mostly met herself coming and going—no room for romance in her busy life.

      And yet, as she sat down to say grace with her girls, Gabi couldn’t help but think of the interesting, quiet stranger she’d met that afternoon. He should have looked so out of place standing there, all splattered in paint.

      But to Gabi, he’d looked just right for some reason.

      She’d have to call her best friend Dawn and give her the lowdown. Just for fun. Just for some girl talk. After all, it had been a very long time since Gabi had felt like talking about a man.

      Maybe too long.

      Chapter Two

      A chilly wind whipped at Gabi’s wool overcoat as she hurried the girls toward the sanctuary of the Northside Community Church. “C’mon, we don’t want to be late for the service.”

      The century-old white-brick church located across the river from Davis Landing in Hickory Mills was all abuzz this morning as the faithful filed out of the education buildings tucked behind the sanctuary, headed to hear one of Reverend Charles David Abernathy’s rip-roaring sermons.

      The big, redheaded preacher could be as blustery as this wind, but he had a heart of gold and he loved each and every one of his parishioners. That membership included both the affluent people from Davis Landing and the average working families here in Hickory Mills, where Gabi lived.

      “I’m cold,” Talia whined, pulling her pink down jacket over her pleated plaid skirt.

      “Well, the sooner we get inside, the warmer you will be,” Gabi pointed out, a strand of dark hair blowing across her face. “Roni, hurry up,” she said over her shoulder, her hand coming up to pull the escaping strand back from her jawline.

      Veronica was giggling and whispering to her older friend Samantha Hart. No telling what those two were cooking up. But Gabi was glad her girls had such good role models as the Hart family. She knew her children were always safe and well taken care of when they were with Angela and Dave and their girls.

      Gabi made it up the steps, then turned one more time to call out to her lagging older child. “Roni—”

      She stopped, her heart picking up its pace as she saw him. Gabi took a second glance, just to make sure. It was him all right. The man she’d talked to two days ago in the daycare room of the church. He’d just gotten out of an expensive sedan, and he was walking up to the church with some of the Hamilton clan.

      He sure cleans up nicely, Gabi thought as she took in the tall man dressed in a tailored overcoat and dark wool suit. His outfit probably cost more than one of her weekly paychecks, Gabi decided, wondering who this man really was.

      He looked up then, his eyes locking with hers. At first, he seemed apprehensive and unsure, but then he sent her a hesitant smile, and he kept looking until Gabi felt a tug on her coat.

      “Mom?”

      Gabi glanced down at Talia. “What, honey?”

      “Inside, remember? You wanted to get inside.”

      “Right, so I did.” Gabi dropped her gaze, then turned to find her friend Dawn Leroux coming toward her.

      “Dawn, hi! I tried to call you the other night. I wanted to talk to you about him. Only I didn’t know that he was…well, him, then.” She lifted her head toward the stranger. “You weren’t home.”

      And now she wished she’d left a message. But Gabi had decided then that Dawn’s not being home had to be a sign to drop the whole thing. She had no business asking questions about a handsome stranger, especially since the stranger was obviously a friend of the Hamiltons. And way out of her league.

      Dawn glanced in the direction of Gabi’s gaze. “Oh, him. I wanted to talk to you about him, too,” Dawn said, her tone a bit too smug, her blue eyes bright with hope. “He does have a striking presence, doesn’t he?” Then, as if realizing what Gabi had said, she asked, “What about him?”

      “I’ve met him,” Gabi whispered as they walked into church. “He was painting in the daycare the other day.”

      “Really? That’s great,” Dawn said, grinning. “I convinced him to help out. Oh, I’m so glad he actually took my advice.”

      Realization flared through Gabi. “That’s the man you told me about—the man who left town because of a personal crisis?”

      “That’s him,” Dawn said. “My future brother-in-law, Jeremy Hamilton.”

      Jeremy Hamilton. He seemed so different from all the rest. Of course, if the rumors were true—he was different.

      They found a pew and both women sank down, the girls settling beside Gabi. Her mouth fell open as she turned to whisper to Dawn. “He’s a Hamilton? You sure didn’t mention that,” she said, her gaze scanning the church doors for any sign of the topic of conversation.

      Gabi quickly turned to face forward as Jeremy entered with his brother Tim. Suddenly all the pieces began to fall into place. This explained his almost aloof behavior the other day when she’d stumbled upon him painting. The man had every reason to be aloof. The Hamiltons were the local dynasty in these parts. Upper crust and top shelf. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t at least recognized him that day. But she’d never mingled in the same social circles as Jeremy Hamilton.

      “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” she whispered to Dawn.

      Dawn glanced down at the church bulletin, then frowned. “But I did. I told you all about him.”

      Leaning close, Gabi replied, “You just said you had a friend who’d been going through a rough time and needed some space, so you suggested he volunteer at the church.” Then she brought a hand to her mouth. “He’s the older brother. The one who—”

      Dawn interrupted with a whispered sigh. “He’s still

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