LITMIR.BIZ

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tried to recover through church, then isolation, and then that night, he’d tried something else. The party had given him an excuse to go further than a few beers to relax. He’d effectively blurred his memories until he couldn’t recall them anymore. He’d drunk enough to blot out that look on Sara’s face when she lay in his arms, dying.

      It had been a real treat for his family to find out he’d been arrested. His one call had been to his future brother-in-law instead of his parents. Adam had picked him up from jail without lecture, but it was still a humbling experience he’d never want to repeat. Not something he’d wanted to place on his parents, either. Knowing his mom, she might have left him in jail overnight to think about what he’d done to get there.

      That pretty intern reminded him a little of his mom. Kellie Cavanaugh wasn’t exactly short, maybe more average in height, but she looked small and delicate despite her powerhouse of a handshake. With light freckles all over her face and eyes that couldn’t decide whether to be blue or green, she’d nailed him with a direct gaze that saw far more than he’d wanted her to see. A good talent when it came to counseling, but potentially bad news for him.

      He wasn’t a drunk. But would Kellie Cavanaugh see that? He wanted this whole thing done and over with, but his future lay in her hands. He started his truck and slammed it into Reverse.

      By the time he got to work, Ryan was glad his duties today included fall cleanup in the cherry fields. Throwing stuff around sounded good right about now.

      “How’d it go?” His boss, Liz, stood in the doorway of his small office.

      “I don’t know. I’ll find out if I have to go to ‘treatment’—” Ryan made quotation marks with his fingers “—by the end of the week.”

      Liz gave him a smile. Only a few years older than his twenty-seven years, Liz was hired in as the new director of the research center six months ago when she moved back to the area with her husband.

      She’d been great through this whole thing, promising to go to bat for him if record of his arrest printed in their local newspaper was ever questioned by the board of directors.

      “Have you thought maybe this is what you need?”

      “I don’t abuse any substance—” He cut himself short. Was that true anymore?

      Liz held up her hand. “You’re the most dependable, hardworking guy on staff, but there’s this sadness in you.... I know it’s about your fiancée, but maybe this is all for some big cosmic reason.”

      Ryan snorted. “You sound like my brother.”

      “Well, maybe we have a point.”

      “Yeah, well. I’ve got stuff to do. Thanks, Liz.” Ryan wasn’t interested in a theological debate. If he heard one more time from well-meaning folks how all things work together for good to those who love God, he’d tear his hair out.

      How could God use this one? Ryan had blocked out God for a while now. Maybe He’d finally received the message and had given Ryan a hands-off. And look where he’d landed.

      * * *

      Two days later while waiting for her evening teen group session, Kellie sat at her desk with her office phone cradled against her shoulder. “Mrs. Marsh? Hello, this is Kellie Cavanaugh from the LightHouse Center in LeNaro. Do you have a few moments?”

      She heard a sigh at the other end.

      “Yes, I do. Ryan told me you might be calling.” Ryan’s mother had a pleasant-sounding voice.

      Expecting the call was another good sign. Ryan Marsh demonstrated responsibility by giving his family members a heads-up. Or he could have prepped them on what to say. Either way, Kellie would find out.

      She’d hit a wall with his evaluation. She believed what Ryan had told her even though her boss thought his answers were too perfect to be true.

      Was Ryan headed for trouble? If he remained on this course, most likely he would be. She’d spoken to Ryan’s brother, a minister, who had shed a lot of light on the accident that had killed Ryan’s fiancée. Her name was Sara, and she’d died in Ryan’s arms. Kellie nearly cried after she’d hung up.

      “Mrs. Marsh, I was wondering if I might ask you a few questions about your son.”

      The chuckle on the other end of the phone surprised her. “Mrs. Marsh?”

      “Oh, please call me Rose. And sorry, but this is just so unusual.”

      Kellie tipped her head. “How so?”

      “It’s not like Ryan to do anything wrong. When the boys were younger, I used to get all kinds of calls about my oldest son, Sinclair. But he’s settled down and recently married. Ryan was always the responsible one.”

      Rose Marsh sounded vibrant and proud of both her sons. There wasn’t that weary tone in her voice, like she’d been through the wringer over and over again. Interesting.

      “Does Ryan have a history of abusing alcohol?”

      “No, not really. In fact, Ryan was the type of kid who’d call me fifteen minutes before his curfew with the reason why he might be late. I never worried about Ryan in that respect.”

      “Rose, if I may ask, is there anything that worries you now?”

      “His grief.” Another sigh. “He’s not moving on, and it’s been three years.”

      “Yes, he told me about that. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

      “Thank you, Miss Cavanaugh.”

      “Kellie.”

      “Can you help him, Kellie?”

      She felt her back stiffen. “I’m not his counselor. I’m helping with the evaluation.”

      “He’d have a fit if he knew I’d said this, but I want him to go through some sort of counseling. Ryan’s too deep a thinker. He keeps his feelings locked up inside and wouldn’t dream of seeking help on his own. And he needs help.”

      Still waters run deep with dangerous currents and undertows.

      “Kellie?”

      “Yes, ma’am?

      “Do you believe in God?”

      A personal question for sure, but Kellie wasn’t surprised or offended. Ryan’s brother was a pastor, and he’d told her that they’d been raised in a Christian home. The Marsh family had been more than simply Sunday morning churchgoers. They tried their best to live their faith. Like her.

      Kellie cleared her throat. This call was taking an unexpected turn. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

      “There’s an old poem that refers to God as the Hound of Heaven. Well, I think God’s tracking down my son to bring him back. Please recommend Ryan to go through counseling. He can’t carry his burden of grief anymore. He needs to finally give it over to the Lord, before he lets it destroy him. Do you know what I mean?”

      “I do, Mrs. Marsh.” A little too well, in fact. Some things were hard to let go of.

      After a few more questions, Kellie hung up the phone. God worked in mysterious ways, but this one really confused her. Was she supposed to be God’s instrument in this man’s life? That was a big responsibility. One she didn’t take lightly. A knock on the door to her tiny office interrupted her thoughts, so she hit the save button on her computer.

      Ginny stuck her head around the door. “Do you have that Marsh evaluation done yet? John’s asking for it. He’s got a relatively new group starting up and can take on another client.”

      “It’s right here.” Kellie hit the print button and then pointed at the shelf. “Or rather, there.”

      “Great. Let’s review it before our teen group session, okay?” Ginny gathered up the pages and scanned them quickly. “Heard

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