Making Amends
After losing his clients’ life savings, former broker Rick Salinger went in search of redemption. Now a pastor in the remote Canadian town of Churchill, he focuses on his congregation and working with the kids at a center for troubled boys. But when the center’s new nurse arrives with her own struggling son, Rick fears getting too close. Widowed mom Cassie Crockett once lost almost everything because of Rick—and he’s not sure she’ll ever forgive him. Yet he can’t stop his growing feelings for her. He wants to help Cassie and her son build a new life…one that just might include him.
Northern Lights: On the edge of the Arctic, love awaits
“Rick, would you be able to talk
to my son?” Cassie asked.
“Ever since his dad died, he’s been struggling. I can’t seem to reach him. But you might.”
Rick’s heart swelled with compassion for this mother’s hurting heart.
“Please?” she whispered.
“I don’t know that it will make any difference, Cassie, but I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help Noah,” Rick said. “The offer is open to you, too, if you want.”
She shut down—there was no other way to express it. “Thank you, but I don’t talk about the past. I appreciate whatever you can do for Noah though.”
It was a warning. Back off. And yet Rick knew he was going to have a hard time doing that. Her husband’s death had affected her whether she admitted it or not.
Don’t get involved, his brain chided again.
She’s hurting, his soul answered. Am I not here to help others? How else can I make amends for my past?
He lifted his head and found a pair of beautiful brown eyes watching him.
Staying focused on his goal definitely wasn’t going to be easy.
LOIS RICHER
began her travels the day she read her first book and realized that fiction provided an extraordinary adventure. Creating that adventure for others became her obsession. With millions of books in print, Lois continues to enjoy creating stories of joy and hope. She and her husband love to travel, which makes it easy to find the perfect setting for her next story. Lois would love to hear from you via www.loisricher.com, loisricher@yahoo.com or on Facebook.
North Country Family
Lois Richer
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not to your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths.
—Proverbs 3:5–6
This book is dedicated to my sister Darcy,
who sees a need, and quietly, in her own way, fills it.
Bless you, Darc.
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
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Questions for Discussion
Excerpt
Chapter One
“My dad’s d-dead.”
Rick Salinger ignored the December snowscape outside to study the face of the stuttering boy slouched on the train seat next to him. They’d been talking for the past half hour.
His heart ached for both Noah and his father, but at the moment he felt most saddened by the knowledge that Noah’s father would never get to see his son grow and change. That sadness came from the knowledge that Rick would never get to see a son grow and change, either. He would never have a family. Because he didn’t deserve one.
“My d-dad stole f-from our ch-church.” Noah rubbed one eye then put his glasses back in place. “Th-then he k-killed himself. M-mom said he was t-too a-ashamed to t-tell us.”
Rick wanted to hug the kid, but Noah’s rigid expression said he wouldn’t tolerate that.
“My f-father died r-running away. And now that’s wh-what we’re d-doing, too.”
“Running away?” Rick stared at him, surprised by the disgust in the boy’s voice.
“My m-mom calls it s-starting over,” Noah muttered.
“That’s way different than running away.” Rick frowned when the boy shrugged. He tried a different approach. “You and your mom must miss your dad, Noah.”
“M-my mom m-maybe. She c-cries when she th-thinks I c-can’t hear her, but I d-don’t cry for him.” Noah’s fingers tightened around his iPod.
“I’m really sorry,” Rick told him sincerely. He suppressed a groan. What an inane remark. “That’s not much help, is it? But you can pray about it.”
“I don’t p-pray,” Noah said, an edge tingeing his voice. “N-not anymore.”
“That’s too bad because God hears the prayers of His kids,” Rick said softly.
“Maybe He h-hears but He d-doesn’t answer.” Noah turned his head away.
“God always answers, Noah.” A yearning to help this angry, fatherless boy swelled deep inside Rick. “You know, a lot of us make mistakes that we wish we could undo. But that doesn’t mean God doesn’t hear our prayers.”
“Then wh-why doesn’t He m-make things d-different?” Noah demanded.
Rick had asked himself that same question a thousand times, mostly whenever he was reminded of his last days as a stockbroker, right after he’d made that last, greedy, too-speculative gamble and lost his clients’ money. Seniors, single parents, a fund to help the needy—they’d all put their trust in wonder broker Rick Salinger. And because he was so desperate to prove he was better than the no-account street kid he’d been, he’d skipped the due diligence and invested in a scheme that cost them everything.
With that memory came waves of guilt. For a moment he got sucked into it. Then he shook it off, forcing himself to focus on Noah.
“You want God to wave a magic wand and make it all better?” When Noah nodded, Rick smiled. “That would be nice, but I think God wants us to learn from our mistakes.”
Noah didn’t look convinced. “How do you kn-know for sure?”
“Because God is a loving Father who wants the best for His kids.” Rick stifled a laugh at the look on Noah’s face. Clearly the kid had no love for members of the clergy.
“My g-grandfather is a minister, t-too,” he said after a long silence.
Rick waited for more information but Noah just added, “I wish m-my mom would w-wake up. I’m s-starving.”
As if in answer, an anxious voice across the aisle, two rows back, called, “Noah?”
Rick watched Noah’s shoulders tense. He waited for the boy to answer. When he didn’t, Rick said, “He’s here. With me.” He half rose to identify himself and immediately got caught in the worry-filled stare of the loveliest brown eyes he’d ever seen.
A woman who looked too young to be the mother of this boy stood. She passed a hand over her jeans, straightened a sweater that accentuated the golden glints in her eyes then stepped into the aisle. Her blond hair caressed her cheeks in tumbled layers of tousled curls as she raked a hand through them.
He knew that face.
Rick scrambled to remember where he’d seen her before but came up blank. He was positive that he knew her, though Noah’s mother didn’t seem to know him. She barely glanced at him before she hunkered down beside her son.
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