Evan stared at her. “Really?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “What? You don’t think I can watch some kids?”
“I didn’t know you liked kids.”
Touché. She scrunched up her nose. “I like them as long as I can return them to their parents.”
His laughter filled the air. “Thanks, Michelle. I’ll call Jo and if she can’t do it, then I will gladly accept your help.”
“No problem. Are we still having Bible study tomorrow?”
“Yes.” He tilted his head. “You want to lead?”
“Oh, no.” She backed up. “No thanks, I’ll leave it to the professionals.”
He grinned as if she was highly amusing. “Alrighty then.”
Evan waved good bye and walked slowly down the driveway toward his van. She studied his gait. He walked like the new prosthetic bothered him. Lord, please let that not be so.
Closing the door, she headed for the kitchen for another cup of coffee. For a few days now, she had been wondering what to do with the information Mrs. Adams had related to her. Should she tell Chloe she might be related to the Davenports? It seemed a little premature, especially since Mrs. Adams had no idea where John Davenport disappeared to.
She bit her lip and stared at her cell phone. This would be the perfect opportunity to get Guy’s input. Maybe he knew a way to track him down. Look up his driver’s license or something.
The iPhone beckoned to her, it’s dark screen shining up at her. She snatched up the phone and dialed Guy’s number before she could talk herself out of it.
“Hello?” The husky tone of his voice sent unwanted shivers down her spine.
Oh, man. His voice was sexier on the phone. “Hey, I have a lead I need your help with.”
“Michelle?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry, your voice sounds different over the phone.”
She stared at her phone. Nope, not going to investigate his statement. “I have a possible name for Chloe’s father, but I have no idea how to track him down. Holly’s mother said no one has seen him since graduation.”
“Okay, let me grab a pen.”
She listened to the giggles and shouting in the background.
“Silans!”
The deep timbre of Guy’s voice rang loud and clear, almost like he stood in the room next to her. She remembered the first time he had said something to her in the beautiful language of the Haitian people. She’d practically melted into a puddle at his feet. Her hands tightened their grip as her brain fought to ward off unwanted memories.
“Okay, I have a pen.”
“His name is John Davenport. He graduated in ’86 and left Freedom Lake soon after.”
A low whistle crossed the airwaves. “Of the Prosperity Ridge Davenports?”
She nodded then rolled her eyes. Of course, he couldn’t see her. “Yes, I was surprised to hear that too.”
“Have you told Chloe yet?”
“No. Why? Do you think I should?”
“No, I’d wait for more concrete evidence.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” She paused, thankful for the second opinion.
It seemed like forever since she had someone to bounce ideas off of. That was one thing she missed about working in a law firm. Working for herself left her without a sounding board.
“I’ll check this out when I get to work tomorrow.”
“I told Evan I’d watch the girls for you.” Why’d you spill the beans? She had no intentions of telling him, but apparently her subconscious disagreed.
“Excuse me?” His tone deepened along with his accent.
“He said you’re planning on going out Saturday. He came over to ask Jo, but she wasn’t home yet, so I volunteered in case she can’t do it.” Michelle stopped short from admitting she had no life and plenty of time to watch his kids.
“Thank you,” he replied cautiously. “I didn’t even know you liked kids.”
Why did everyone have the same reaction? Did she look like Cruella or something?
“Well, Evan is going to let me know what’s up after he talks to Jo.”
“Okay. I’ll call as soon as I have some info on Mr. Davenport.”
“Thank you, Guy.”
That was pretty painless. Maybe she could live in Freedom Lake with the man who broke her heart after all.
GUY STARED AT THE FRONT door. Just how long could he sit in his car before Nana Baker noticed him. Handling the twins all day was exhausting, but Nana never looked tired when he arrived. Not even after a month hiatus spent recovering from her heart attack. He was so thankful for her.
Thankful enough to give praise to God?
Once upon a time, he would have given praise to God for every little blessing. Now he struggled to keep his thanks silent. It had been so ingrained in him that his body naturally wanted to praise God.
Except He took Charlene away.
Guy wiped a hand across his forehead. He was so tired and weary of being tired.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
The Scripture crossed his mind and his jaw clenched. Charlene had always said when Scripture appeared in your heart the Holy Spirit was prompting you to remember God’s truth. However, if he chose to believe God wasn’t real, then what was the point of remembering Scripture?
Because you know, deep down, God is real.
Guy gulped. It was easier to say that God wasn’t real then to come to grips that He allowed Charlene to die and leave him to raise his girls alone. He was all alone.
He opened the door, shaking off the melancholy so he could greet his daughters with a cheerful face. Sometimes he wondered if they were fooled by his act. Could they sense the deep sadness he tried to hide? He hoped not. His girls deserved a life of joy and happiness. The death of Charlene had marked and permeated everything he did with unbelievable sorrow, but he would continue to shove it down and curve his lips upward in some semblance of a smile.
Plastering a grin on his face, or what he hoped looked like one, he knocked on Nana Baker’s door.
“Guy, right on time as usual.” She wrapped her frail
