Margaret Daley - A Mother for Cindy

Jesse’s heart constricted. There were times she was sure Nate wished he had a father, but she could never see herself married again. She had been lucky once.

Please, Lord, help me be there for Cindy as I was for Nate. Guide me in the best way to help Cindy.

With her arm still loosely around Cindy’s shoulder, Jesse asked, “Does your father have any lady friends?”

“He’s always too busy working when he should be resting.”

A plan began to materialize in Jesse’s mind. “Maybe we can do something about that.”

THE LADIES OF SWEETWATER LAKE:

Like a wedding ring, this circle of friends

is neverending.

GOLD IN THE FIRE (LI #273)

A MOTHER FOR CINDY (LI #283)

LIGHT IN THE STORM (LI #297)

feels she has been blessed. She has been married thirty-three years to her husband, Mike, whom she met in college. He is a terrific support and her best friend. They have one son, Shaun, who married his high school sweetheart in June 2002.

Margaret has been writing for many years and loves to tell a story. When she was a little girl, she would play with her dolls and make up stories about their lives. Now she writes these stories down. She especially enjoys weaving stories about families and how faith in God can sustain a person when things get tough. When she isn’t writing, she is fortunate to be a teacher for students with special needs. Margaret has taught for over twenty years and loves working with her students. She has also been a Special Olympics coach and has participated in many sports with her students.

For I know the plans I have for you,

declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to

harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Then you will call upon Me and come and

pray to Me and I will listen to you. You will seek

Me and find Me when you seek Me with all your

heart. I will be found by you, declares the Lord,

and will bring you back from captivity.

—Jeremiah 29:11–14

To Judy Pelfrey

Thank you for twenty-five years of friendship

and for your guidance and grace. May you reside

in God’s loving arms always.

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

Letter to Reader

Epilogue

Peace at last.

With a deep sigh Jesse Bradshaw sank into the chair at her kitchen table. After the hectic past hour getting her son off to visit his friend Sean O’Brien, she now had time to read her daily verses from the Bible and collect herself before starting her day.

Dear Heavenly Father, please help me to make it through—

Honk! Honk!

Jesse bolted from her chair, nearly toppling it to the tile floor, and raced for the door. Not again. Stepping outside, she scanned her backyard and found that her geese had a large man who was holding a crying little girl, trapped by the edge of the lake. As Jesse hurried toward her pet geese, the one overriding impression was the anger carved into the stranger’s face. He tried to shield the child from the irate birds that flapped their wings, hissing and honking their displeasure at their space being invaded.

“Step away from the nest,” Jesse shouted across her yard that sloped to the lake behind her house.

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?”

The man’s anger was momentarily directed at her as she neared him. His dark gaze drilled into her while Fred darted at him and nipped his leg. The stranger winced and held the little girl up higher to keep the geese from attacking her.

“I’ll get their attention. You run.”

“My pleasure,” he agreed between clenched teeth at the same time Ethel took her turn at his other leg.

“Daddy, Daddy, make them go away! I’m scared!” The child hugged her father tighter and curled her legs around him so they weren’t a dangling target for the geese.

“Everything’s okay, Cindy.” He awkwardly patted the child’s back while glaring at Jesse, clearly conveying his own displeasure.

“Fred! Ethel!” Jesse put herself between the geese and the man with the little girl. She waved her arms like a windmill and jumped up and down, yelling the pair’s names in her sternest voice, hoping none of her neighbors saw this undignified display.

Thankfully Ethel calmed down and waddled toward her nest. Fred, however, would have nothing to do with her. He focused on the stranger, who was trying to back away. Flying around Jesse, Fred went for the man’s leg again. Jesse threw herself in front of the goose. She got nipped on the thigh.

“Get out of here,” she whispered loudly. Pain spread from the sore place on her leg as she continued to come between Fred and the intruders.

Carrying his daughter, the man hurried across the yard, a limp to his gait. At the edge of her property, he threw a glance over his shoulder, an ashen cast to his dark features. Jesse shivered in the warm spring air. This man was definitely not happy with her geese—or her.

Fred settled down as the two people moved farther away. After giving one final loud honk, he toddled back to Ethel and stood guard, his beady black eyes watching the pair disappear inside the house next door.

So those were her new neighbors, staying in the Millers’ summer home.

Jesse headed for her back door, rubbing the reddened area on her thigh. Everyone in Sweetwater knew to stay away from her backyard while Ethel and Fred were guarding their nest. They could be so fierce when their home was invaded.

With all the activity at her own house, she’d forgotten about her new neighbors who’d moved in two days ago. She supposed she should bake them some cookies and welcome them to Sweetwater—oh, and warn them about her geese.

Shaking her head, she stepped into her bright kitchen and came to a stop just inside the door. Her grandfather sat at the table, his gray hair sticking up at odd angles, a scowl on his face.

“Those geese could wake the dead,” he muttered into his cup of coffee while taking some sips.

“I’m sorry. I know you went to bed late last night. But someone was in our backyard. You know how they get with strangers.”

Her grandfather’s head snapped up, and he regarded her with a pinpoint gaze. “Not the Hawthorne boys trying to steal their eggs again?”

“Nope. Our new neighbors.” Jesse eased onto the chair next to her grandfather. “And I have to say I don’t think I made a very good first impression.”

He peered at the clock over the stove. “It’s barely eight. Awfully early to be paying us a visit.”

“I don’t think that’s what they were doing.”

His bushy dark brows shot up. “What kind of neighbors do we have?”

“Gramps, that’s what I intend to find out later this morning.”

Several hours later at her neighbor’s house, Jesse pressed the bell and waited and waited. When the door finally swung open, she hoisted up the plate of chocolate chip cookies, as though it was a shield of armor, ready to give her welcoming spiel. The words died on her lips.

The man from earlier filled the entrance with his large frame. He wore a sleeveless T-shirt and shorts that revealed muscular legs and arms. Sweat coated his body and ran down his face as he brought a towel up to wipe it away. When her gaze traveled up his length, power came to mind. Her survey came to rest on his face. Her smile of greeting vanished along with any rational thought.