Kathryn Springer - Love Finds a Home

When she’d met Brian, he had swept her off her feet. She had become a wife at nineteen. A mother at twenty. But Emma’s dreams had encompassed a lifetime. They would make a home. Raise a family. Grow old together.

And then she’d lost him.

If all that had been part of God’s plan, it seemed safer to keep her distance from Him, too.

“Why don’t you and Jeremy find a table and I’ll get you both a glass of fresh-squeezed lemonade?” Abby offered.

“All right.” Emma looked around but there was no sign of Jeremy. Anywhere. “I don’t see him.”

“He must have found someone to play with,” Abby said.

“Jeremy doesn’t care for sports.” And was often teased because of it. Tension cinched the muscles between Emma’s shoulder blades as she scanned the faces around her.

“Maybe he went down by the lake. Some of the boys were fishing from the dock earlier.”

Abby’s words, meant to calm her fears, had just the opposite effect. “Jeremy doesn’t know how to swim.”

Emma felt a pang of guilt at the quickly veiled surprise she saw reflected in Abby’s green eyes. She knew what the other woman was thinking. What parent, who lived in a town built on the shore of a lake, wouldn’t insist that their child learn to swim?

Emma tried to swallow the knot of panic forming in her throat as Abby gave her arm a comforting squeeze. “I have an idea,” she said. “There isn’t a boy—or man, for that matter—who will ignore the sound of a dinner bell. I’ll give it a ring and I guarantee that you won’t have to find Jeremy—he’ll find you.”

“Thank you.” Emma gave Abby a grateful look but didn’t wait to see if her idea would work.

She headed down to the lake.

Jake heard the clang of a bell, rallying the troops for lunch, and knew he was running out of time.

The team of mentors would be introduced right after Abby served the meal. If he wanted to let Matt know that he would be more comfortable volunteering in another area of the ministry, he had to do it soon.

Jake had come to the conclusion that he wasn’t mentor material only minutes after he’d shown up for the picnic. He had rusty social skills and rough edges his newfound faith hadn’t had time to hone. And to top it off, he didn’t know a thing about kids. Call him crazy, but wasn’t being able to relate to kids an important qualification when it came to being a mentor?

He had taken a walk down the shoreline to think. And to pray.

You know I’m willing, Lord, but I don’t think I’m cut out for this. Guys like Matt are better at it. Kids love him—I’d probably scare them away. You must have something else in mind for me, so let me know what it is and I’ll do it.

Maybe the prayer team could use another volunteer. He had as much experience in that area as he did interacting with kids, but at least the chance of doing any significant damage remained smaller.

As Jake turned to go back to the lodge, a movement farther down the shoreline caught his attention. He paused, wondering if the flash of color had been a red-winged blackbird searching the cattails for something to eat.

Until he heard a splash.

Knowing how mischievous boys could be, Jake doubted that Matt had given them free rein of the premises for the picnic. The pastor and Quinn O’Halloran, a local businessman and member of the congregation, had planned a variety of games, part of an ingenious strategy for deterring them from creating their own entertainment. If it were boys from the picnic who’d wandered out of sight.

Off duty or not, Jake had no choice but to check it out. He’d received several complaints earlier in the week from some of the local fishermen, who claimed their vehicles had been broken into while parked at the boat landing. Jake couldn’t prove it—yet—but he had a sneaking suspicion that whoever was responsible for breaking into the summer cabins had decided to broaden the playing field.

Jake bypassed the trail and created his own route, one running parallel to the marked hiking path that curved around the lake. As he reached the shore, he saw a boy standing knee-deep in the water, tugging on a rope attached to a makeshift raft bobbing in the waves. He was in no immediate danger that Jake could see, but because the kid’s frame looked as thin as one of the reeds growing along the shoreline, Jake decided to lend a hand. “Hold on!”

At the sound of Jake’s voice, the boy turned to look at him.

Jake, who’d always prided himself on keeping his emotions in check, felt his jaw drop in disbelief.

There was no mistaking that pair of serious blue eyes and unruly hank of sandy blond hair.

Jeremy Barlow looked just as astonished to see him. “Chief S-Sutton.”

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