LITMIR.BIZ

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coveralls she’d brought, along with gloves and a mask. She began tapping the wall, trying to imitate Kent’s motions on the plaster surface. She must have tapped too hard because huge chunks dropped down at her feet.

      “I’m not sure I need this much help,” he said, blue eyes twinkling.

      “So tell me what I can do to help because I’m not going away.” She met his stare head-on, relieved when he finally gave a half nod.

      “How about stripping the wallpaper?”

      “I can do that.” She followed his directions and for the next hour worked feverishly, spraying, scrubbing and peeling away the old borders as she forced the stress from her mind and her muscles.

      “How’s work going? Are you swamped yet?” Kent steadily removed the damaged material from the walls, never missing a stroke as he spoke.

      “Ha! I wish. My practice is on the way to failure. People won’t even look me in the eye when I meet them on the street. Especially since I asked about the church and how it could be restored.” She yanked extra hard on a strip of paper and smiled as the entire piece came loose. “At last.”

      He shrugged. “It might take a while but you’ll break through their reserve.”

      “When will that be?” she demanded. “The day after the clinic closes because I don’t have any patients?”

      “It’s not that bad,” he muttered.

      “You think not? A woman came into the hospital with a sick baby today. I tried to help, but the mom took the kid away, saying they’d drive to Las Cruces. You know how far that is, especially for a sick child?” Frustration leached through though she tried to suppress it. “If this continues, it won’t matter if I open this clinic or not.” She gulped down her panic. “I need patients, Kent.”

      He put down his hammer and turned to her.

      “I’m really sorry this is happening, Jaclyn. It must feel terrible to be treated like that when you’re just trying to help.”

      “I don’t care about me,” she sputtered. “It’s the kids that matter. Their parents won’t let me help.”

      “None of them?” His voice softened, flowing over her with compassion.

      “Not many. Officially I have eleven juvenile patients on my books. Eleven, Kent, in a population of—what’s the population of Hope? Three thousand?” She clenched her left hand as tears welled in spite of her efforts to suppress them. “I came here because I’m trying to make sure no other kid gets missed like Jessica did. Why is that wrong?”

      “It’s not wrong.” He rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s a wonderful, unselfish, kind and generous thing to do.”

      “It can’t be that wonderful.” She dashed the tears away. “I know that God has a purpose for each of our lives, something only we can accomplish for him. I believe the clinic is my purpose. I’ve been praying about it for years. I’m here. I’m ready. So why doesn’t God help?”

      * * *

      If only Kent McCloy were privy to God’s thoughts.

      “I don’t think I can explain God’s actions.” Kent lifted his hand off her delicate shoulder and turned so she couldn’t see his face. “I think I’m on a need-to-know basis with heaven.”

      “Because of Lisa’s death, you mean?” Jaclyn sat down on an old sawhorse he’d brought from home, watching him carefully, her big brown eyes inviting him to share. “I can’t even imagine how hard it must have been for you. Do you want to talk about it?”

      Hard didn’t begin to describe it, but no matter the release he might find sharing with Jaclyn, Kent wasn’t going to do it. He knew he was to blame. He didn’t want to watch the pity fill her eyes.

      “No, I don’t.” That came off sounding harsh so he changed the subject back to her. “Eventually people will get to know you and realize your heart is right.” The last thing Hope needed was to lose yet another doctor. “Don’t give up.”

      “Oh, I’m frustrated, Kent. But I’m a long way from giving up.” She rose, took another swipe at the wallpaper. “So how do I go about getting to know the people of Hope?”

      “I’m not sure.” He carried a bucket of refuse out to the Dumpster. When he returned, Jaclyn was grinning. “What?”

      “I have a great idea. I’m going to join some of their local groups. I can’t cook and I haven’t got a clue how to quilt, but if those groups exist here, I’ll join them.” Her chin lifted in determination. “You’ll have to tell me what kind of activities Hope offers because this place isn’t at all as I remember.”

      “It’s the same place, but we’ve gone through some issues. When the town split over the mine almost two years ago, there were a lot of hard feelings. Cliques developed.” She frowned at him and he sought an example to illustrate his point. “Like there used to be a ladies’ aid society, but it’s for the pro ladies now,” he told her. “Pro meaning pro-mine. The ladies against the mine and the problems they thought it would bring to their families left that group and started their own. That one is called Hope Circle and it has no relationship with the other group.”

      “Should I join one, or both?” She frowned, rubbing her chin.

      “Don’t ask me. I don’t even know what they do in their meetings.” Kent shrugged. “I only know they do not do it together. We used to have a family bowling night. Everyone came out, brought their kids and had a great time together. Now we have the Christian night and the Followers’ night.”

      “You’re kidding me,” Jaclyn said with a wry smile. Despite her messy work, she still looked as if she’d stepped out of a magazine. Her white paper suit did nothing to disguise her beauty.

      “I wish I were kidding.” Kent forced his gaze off her. “The rift goes a lot deeper. Neighbors don’t talk to neighbors. Old friends don’t have coffee together. Fellow citizens bicker over fence lines and every other petty issue. It’s bad. They even insist on different services at the church. The place needs repair badly but nobody is willing to work with anybody else on it.” Talking about this made him feel worn-out. “I was a town councilor when it happened. Now I’m the mayor. It’s my fault things got so bad.”

      “You feel responsible?” Jaclyn blinked at him. “Why?”

      “I couldn’t find a way to mediate, to bring them together.” Painful reminders of arguments he’d interrupted, friends he’d tried to reunite and the bitterness underlying everything weighed on his soul. “In the end the town voted on it, the majority won and the mine went ahead, but the issues remain.”

      “Democracy worked. How is that your fault?” When he stored his hammer in his toolkit, Jaclyn asked, “We’re finished for tonight?”

      “I am. I’m beat. I had a very early morning.” Kent turned away as she shed her paper suit.

      There was so much about this woman that spoke to him. Her beauty, her determination to give, her spunky grit in coming here to help him and her strength of purpose in keeping the vow she’d made her sister all demonstrated a woman filled with resolve and fortitude. Her determination astounded him—joining town groups after being virtually ostracized by the community was a gutsy move.

      This was one amazing woman.

      “There’s a long way to go with this place, isn’t there?” Her voice was quiet, almost solemn. She stood, holding the leftover pie, waiting for his answer as he locked the building.

      “It’ll be tough, but it can be done.” Kent hoped he wasn’t going to regret saying that.

      “But it’s costing you a lot. I should have considered that.” Under the streetlight, Jaclyn’s pale hair glowed like a halo around her heart-shaped face. “If you want to back out, tell me. I can find

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