LITMIR.BIZ

      …And we confidently and joyfully look forward to becoming all that He has had in mind for us to be.

      —Romans 5:2b

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Questions for Discussion

      Chapter One

      Hope was a wasted effort, thought Gracie Henderson as she walked through the park at the Dallas Arboretum. There on a hillock she found the spot she remembered dearly, where she’d first met her cowboy. Now, staring at the exact spot where he’d entered her life, she noticed a man hunched down in the grass. Birds gathered around him, swooping down from the sky. They landed on toothpick legs, then moved toward him in tiny stops and starts.

      Intrigued, Gracie paused to watch.

      The man’s face was turned away from her, but something about the way he sat, something in his frozen stillness would not let her look away.

      He pulled off a morsel of whatever was in his hand with exaggerated slowness. Without so much as a muscle twitch he held it out, wordlessly coaxing the birds nearer until they lit upon his hand and pecked the food from his fingers. Entranced children flocked near the bird man, trying to emulate his success with the feathered animals as their bemused families watched.

      Gracie blinked, checked her watch. Not a lot of time to spare. Since the wrought-iron bench she sought out was unoccupied, she sat down, but left her lunch bag unopened. In this particular place, in the warm rays of the May sun, her aching soul felt soothing relief.

      Gracie had been back in Texas only a week, but that was long enough to dull her memories of the cooler North Dakota spring she’d left behind. It was almost long enough for Dallas’s southern heat to evaporate the chill encasing her heart.

      For the next six months they would be safe.

      She pressed her back against the warm metal and soaked in the lake view, breathed the heady scents of blooming alyssum and freshly mowed grass, listened to the breeze rustle the lush leaves of a nearby cottonwood. All of it combined sent her thoughts headlong into the past, into emotions she’d struggled to bury.

      She’d been so happy that day, so trusting.

      Reality splashed down like a cold shower, reminding her that her blissful joy had lasted eight short days. At least she’d learned from that. Now she took precautions, made sure before she leaped.

      With effort Gracie pushed away the hurt and opened her lunch bag. From the corner of her eye she noticed the man rise. He ambled across the grass, pausing to sniff at a bed of flowers, then pluck a tumbled leaf from the grass.

      Gracie bit into her chicken salad sandwich and closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment to savor her lunch. Simple joys. She’d learned not to take them for granted.

      “It’s a beautiful place, isn’t it?”

      Gracie blinked, stared at the owner of that butter-smooth voice.

      Her heart stopped.

      He looked so real standing in front of her, watching her with a quizzical stare. Nothing at all like the man in her dreams. Her cowboy.

      “Dallas?” she squeaked. Gracie’s heart beat in a painful rhythm, and she grasped the edge of the bench for support.

      “It’s a pretty city, but I didn’t know it would be so hot.” He swiped a hand across his forehead, smiled. A familiar dimple peeked out from the corner of his mouth. “And this is only spring.”

      How she’d missed those bittersweet eyes.

      “You’ve chosen the prettiest spot. Do you mind if I share it?”

      Gracie shook her head. Her limbs trembled with excitement until terror, cold as Arctic ice, grabbed hold, plunging her from delight to dread in two seconds flat. Something was wrong.

      She didn’t know what to ask first.

      Dallas didn’t try to break the silence between them. In fact, he seemed to relish it. A faint smile curved his lips as a bird flitted closer to beg for food.

      It was a mirage, a dream. It had to be. Only Gracie couldn’t wake up.

      So many times, through long sleepless nights and terror-filled days, she’d longed to share her burden, to talk to him, to lean against his shoulder and know she

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