LITMIR.BIZ

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teenager’s words cut through the tension gripping Chance. He looked back at her and managed to smile, hearing the need in the child’s voice that twisted his heart. “Besides singing, what else do you like to do?”

      “I like to draw.”

      “Why aren’t you taking art in school?”

      “I can’t take everything. I’ll probably take it next year.” Crystal shrugged. “Besides, Mom’s teaching me. She’s very good.”

      Chance swung his attention to Tanya who looked away when his gaze fell on her. “What do you like to draw?”

      A hint of red tinged her cheeks. “People mostly.”

      “Portraits?”

      “Nothing formal like that.”

      “I’d love to see your work sometime.”

      Tanya started to say something when Crystal chimed in, “I’ll go get her sketchbook. It’s in the dining room.” She backed up her wheelchair, made a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn, and headed for the door with her service dog following.

      “I get the impression you don’t show many people your drawings.”

      She shook her head, swallowing hard. “I’m not very good. I draw for myself.”

      When Crystal came back into the kitchen with the sketchbook in her lap, Chance wanted to make Tanya feel at ease so he said, “I don’t want to intrude on—”

      “Mom, doesn’t think she’s good. I do. Here, see for yourself.” Crystal opened the book and showed Chance.

      He wasn’t sure what to expect after Tanya’s reluctant reaction, but what he saw was an exquisite portrait of Crystal sketching something. The drawing captured the teenager’s love for art in the detailed expression on her face. The pen-and-ink picture was as good as any professional artist would have done. “I’m impressed, Tanya. This is beautiful.”

      “You think so?”

      All the woman’s doubts were evident in her wrinkled forehead, the hesitant expression in her eyes and the hidden hope that he might really be telling her the truth. As before it was important to Chance to make Tanya feel comfortable. “Yes. I’m honored to have seen this. You should show your drawings more often.”

      Tanya straightened in her chair, her head cocked. “Samuel tried to get me to have one in the Fourth of July auction this year at church. I told him I would donate my time or something else.”

      Chance captured Tanya’s regard. “Next year take him up on the offer.”

      She slid her gaze away and started gathering up her plate and utensils. “I’ll think about it.”

      “Which means she won’t do it,” Crystal interjected and put her dishes in her lap then wheeled herself toward the sink.

      Chance followed them with his place setting. “I hope you’ll let me help you clean up after being gracious enough to invite me to dinner. I might not cook very well, but I can rinse and put them in the dishwasher.”

      “Yeah, Mom. Let him.”

      Tanya laughed. “You’re agreeing because you’ll get out of your part of cleaning up.”

      “I’ve got homework to do.”

      “On Friday night?”

      Crystal lifted her shoulders. “What else is there to do?”

      “Fine.” Tanya watched her frowning daughter and the black Lab disappear into the hallway. “Something’s bothering her. I wish she would tell me.”

      “She’s what, fifteen, sixteen?”

      “Fifteen.”

      “Did you tell your mother what was going on with you at that age?”

      “Good point. But still we’ve been through a lot. I…” Her voice quavering, Tanya twisted away so her face was hidden as she stacked the dishes into the sink and turned on the water.

      Chance heard the thickness lacing each word and wished he could help her. But he discovered that helping her was going to be harder than he’d thought. Actually he’d had no plan in mind other than to assist Tom’s family. But how? Maybe he could reach Crystal. He had to try something or he would never be able to get on with his life—what was left of it.

      Tanya handed him the first plate to put in the dishwasher. “You should come hear us sing in the choir at church this Sunday. As I’m sure you’re aware, Samuel gives great sermons.”

      Chance gripped the glass she passed to him. “I’ll think about it.”

      Chapter Two

      Chance’s clipped words caused Tanya to step back, strained uneasiness pulsating between them. She got the distinct impression thinking was all he would do about going to church.

      Without really contemplating what she was saying, she asked, “You aren’t going to come, are you?” The second the question was out of her mouth, she bit down on the inside of her cheek. She’d never confronted someone about not attending church. She didn’t confront anyone about anything, if possible.

      His gaze narrowed on her face, every line in his body rigid. “I need to get settled in.”

      By his tight tone, evasive answer and clenched jaw, Tanya knew that any further discussion was unwelcome. “I’m sorry I brought up the subject. I just assumed you believed.”

      “Because I’m friends with Samuel?”

      She nodded.

      “I guess Samuel would say I’m the lost sheep he’s trying to bring back to the fold.”

      “So you’ve heard him speak before?”

      “Yeah. But it’s not going to change how I feel. Simply put, God wasn’t there for me when I needed Him the most.”

      His statement piqued her curiosity and made her wonder even more about Chance Taylor’s past. She handed him another dish and let the silence lengthen while she decided how to proceed with the conversation when tension crowded the space between them. “What happened?” She realized she was pushing when she never pushed.

      “Nothing I want to revisit.”

      His answer hadn’t surprised her. She didn’t think he shared willingly much of himself with anyone. She’d seen that same defensive mechanism in Tom, especially after the riding accident that had left Crystal paralyzed. “You said you were a financial advisor. I wish I had a knack for figures. My budget’s in a terrible mess. I work at a bank, but finances aren’t my strong suit.” There, that should be a safe enough subject for conversation.

      “What do you do?”

      “I started out as a receptionist, but I’m a teller now. I can count money, just not manage my own very well. There never seems to be enough to go around. I’m still paying off Crystal’s medical expenses.” And her deceased ex-husband’s lawyer’s bill, she added silently, not wanting to go into what happened with Tom. How do you explain to a person you just met that your husband was sent to prison for burning barns in retaliation for their daughter’s accident?

      “When was the last time you redid your budget?”

      “I don’t exactly have one that’s written down. I pay the most important bills first, then as much as I can on the ones left. That’s the extent of my budget. Some months I do better than others.” She could remember her spending spree several years back where she had bought unnecessary items—expensive clothing, inessential furniture. Thankfully she had been able to take a lot of them back—but not all. She’d finally paid off those bills a few months ago. So long as she stayed on the medication she took for manic depression, she shouldn’t get herself into a bind like that again. She couldn’t afford

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