Terri Reed - Love Comes Home and A Sheltering Love - Love Comes Home / A Sheltering Love

“In Love Comes Home, Terri Reed tells the touching story of a couple whose faith must help them overcome past hurts.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

“Terri Reed’s A Sheltering Love beautifully combines the development of love with enough conflict to keep the reader guessing about the outcome. God’s ability to repair relationships is tenderly depicted.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

“Reed’s characters are warm, true to life and imperfect.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews on A Time of Hope

“Giving Thanks for Baby has a nice twist that readers are certain to enjoy. Terri Reed does an exceptional job blending deeper issues with her story to bind a well-written book.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

LOVE COMES HOME

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

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

A SHELTERING LOVE

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

At an early age Terri Reed discovered the wonderful world of fiction and declared she would one day write a book. Now she is fulfilling that dream and enjoys writing for Steeple Hill. Her second book, A Sheltering Love, was a 2006 RITA® Award finalist and a 2005 National Reader’s Choice Award finalist. Her book Strictly Confidential, book five of the Faith at the Crossroads continuity series, took third place in the 2007 American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year Award. She is an active member of both Romance Writers of America and American Christian Fiction Writers. She resides in the Pacific Northwest with her college-sweetheart husband, two wonderful children and an array of critters. When not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and friends, gardening and playing with her dogs.

You can write to Terri at P.O. Box 19555, Portland, OR 97280, visit her on the Web at www.loveinspiredauthors.com or leave comments on her blog at http://ladiesofsuspense.blogspot.com/.

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for calamity, to give you a future and a hope.

—Jeremiah 29:11

I want to dedicate this book

to everyone who has struggled to pursue a dream.

Keep believing. Faith and perseverance do pay off.

There are so many people to thank, who,

in one way or another, have touched my life

as a writer. I apologize if I’ve forgotten anyone

and ask for your forgiveness.

First and foremost, thank you to my husband and

children. I could never have done this without your

love and support. Thank you to my mother-in-law

for urging me to follow my dream. Thank you to

my mother for always believing in me.

A big thanks to my critique partners, Leah Vale and

Lissa Manley, for encouraging me, challenging me

to grow and never letting me quit.

Thank you to my writerly friends:

Melissa McClone, Delilah Ahrendt,

Tina Bilton-Smith, Amy Danicic, Carolyn Zane,

Susan Alverson, Cynthia Rutledge

and Lenora Worth. I have learned

and grown from knowing you.

And a heartfelt thanks to my spirit-filled sisters

who’ve been my cheering section as well as my

friends: Tricia, Sherry B., Sheri S., Deanna, Debbie

and all the ladies at Southlake Foursquare Church.

But mostly, I thank my Savior Jesus,

for all the blessings.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans for welfare and not calamity, to give you a future and a hope.”

—Jeremiah 29:11

She was home.

Inhaling deeply the fresh scent of pine and exhaust-free air, Dr. Rachel Maguire stared at the seven-story redbrick building, the words Sonora Community Hospital spelled out in bright blue letters across the side. A strange tightness pulled at her chest. As a child, this had been the first hospital she’d ever entered.

Her gaze dropped to another set of letters above the door in front of her. Her breath froze. The emergency entrance.

She shied away from using the double sliding doors, and instead followed the tidy walkway, carpeted on either side by lush green lawns, leading to the main entrance. The early-June sun warmed her face, and from high in the branches of a towering pine an unseen bird chirped a melodic tune. Off in the distance to the east, the peaks of the Sierra Nevadas rose to meet the clear blue sky. Even to her untrained eye, the vibrant greens and hues of brown and gold dotting the hillside were a painter’s dream.

She paused, alert to the eerie peacefulness and serenity around her. With no outside noise to blend with, the unsettled, restless feelings she constantly lived with clamored for attention. She closed her eyes and willed the chaos to subside. She missed the pulsing beat of Chicago.

But not returning to California hadn’t been an option.

Mom G. needed her.

Rachel took a deep breath, adjusted her grip on her small suitcase and walked through the sliding doors of the main hospital entrance. Even inside the hospital, tranquillity reigned. People waiting in the lobby area spoke in lowered tones and soothing, classical music played from somewhere overhead. She stepped briskly up to the administration desk.

“I’m looking for Mrs. Olivia Green’s room.”

The woman behind the desk smiled. “Hello, Rachel.”

“Hello.” She struggled to put a name to the round, wide-eyed face.

“Polly Anderson, now Campbell. You were a year ahead of me in school.”

“Oh.” Rachel didn’t remember her, but smiled politely. “Hello, Polly.”

“Your mom is on the fifth floor, room six. She’ll be glad to see you. Welcome home.”

Rachel blinked, surprised that anyone here would remember her after all this time and that there would be such open friendliness. Her fast-paced world had little time for niceties.

“Thank you, Polly,” she said, and hurried to catch the elevator.

The doors opened on the fifth floor. Emotionally steeling herself, she stepped out. With a purposeful stride, she headed down the corridor. Overhead, the fluorescent lights glowed bright. A distinctive, familiar antiseptic smell assaulted her senses and settled in the back of her throat, offering her a measure of comfort.

Strange, she’d never before noticed how the quiet hum and soft beeping of machines coupled with the rumble of hushed voices lent the air a surreal quality. She’d spent so many years working in hospitals that her senses had grown accustomed to the surroundings. She couldn’t remember ever noticing the atmosphere of her work. It was all part of being a doctor.

Only, this wasn’t her hospital and she wasn’t here as a doctor. She was a visitor. A chill ran down her spine. Someone she loved lay in one of these rooms. Even though she’d reviewed Mom G.’s chart and knew her prognosis, the older woman’s condition didn’t seem real. Rachel didn’t want it to be real.