Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: Her Holiday Family\Sugar Plum Season\Her Cowboy Hero\Small-Town Fireman (74 page)

Bob cleared his throat. “I know some of you won't like what I have to say, but it has to be said. This institution is in the red. Donations are down, way down. How can we be good stewards if we continue to pile on debt? I propose we end this ministry and try to sell the property—have an auction if we can't find a buyer in the traditional way.”

Adam stood at the opposite end of the table. “What will happen to the people who live here and depend on what we have to offer?”

Bob raised his eyebrows. “We can refer them to other charitable organizations.”

Ian stood beside Adam. “Do you intend to make a formal motion to that effect?”

Bob glanced around the table. “Not now. I'd like to hear what everyone has to say.”

Ian forced himself not to jump in with his opinion. He resumed his seat.
Patience. Persistence. Prayer.
He let the words roll through his thoughts as he listened to each of the board members give their views. After all the board members had spoken, Ian had a big knot in his stomach. Only five of the members implied they wanted to keep The Village open. So if it came down to a vote today, things didn't look good.

After looking over the group, Bob's gaze settled on Ian. “Would y'all like to say something?”

“I'll let Melody speak.” Ian gestured toward her.

Melody stood, her posture exuding confidence. “Thanks. When I took the women's ministries coordinator job, I didn't know how much this place would come to mean to me. But this isn't about me. It's about the hundreds of women who've been saved from abuse, who've found jobs and a better life. You can't let a financial setback end this ministry. Remember what Jesus said in Luke. ‘What is impossible with man is possible with God.'”

When Melody returned to her seat, Adam stood. “Melody has given you only one of the reasons why we should continue. Have we lost the vision that started this ministry?”

Ian stood. Leaning forward, he placed his palms on the table and stared at the group. “Isn't this where faith comes in? Remember the story of the Israelites when they crossed the Jordon River and conquered Jericho. The priests stepped into the river on faith, and they were able to cross the river on dry ground. The people marched around Jericho and the walls fell. Why can't we have faith like that?”

No one said a thing. A mower outside sounded loud in the quiet room. Trying to gauge the response of the individual board members, he let his gaze roam from face to face until it rested on Bob Franklin. Bob stood, his expression giving no clue to his thoughts.

Bob folded his arms across his trim waist. “You make a good point, Ian, but sometimes we have to count the cost, too. Don't you agree?”

Adam held his hands out, palms up. “What about giving us a few months to work on the budget and develop some more financial partners. Can we agree on that?”

Ian had always admired Adam's spiritual sense. “Adam's right. Let's see where we stand at the next board meeting in three months.”

A cacophony of voices erupted in the room. Bob banged his gavel. The roar dwindled to a murmur. Finally, quiet reigned.

Bob walked around the table until he was standing next to Ian. “What about your dad getting his church behind the ministry?”

Ian wondered where this line of thinking was headed. “His church already makes a monthly donation.”

“I know, but I mean making The Village of Hope a primary concern, not just one of dozens of ministries they support.” Bob narrowed his gaze as he looked at Ian. “I'm sure you could persuade your dad to do that.”

Didn't this guy know Ian and his father tended to be on the opposite sides of too many issues? Probably not. It wasn't like the differences between father and son were common knowledge. Ian had dishonored his parents with his previous behavior, and his dad had never quite gotten over it.

Ian wasn't sure he even knew how to approach his dad, the lead pastor at one of the area's big mega churches. They did a lot of spiritual good in the community, but Ian had always preferred to worship with a small group here at the little chapel. Sometimes people got lost in big congregations, or they could drift and never grow spiritually. He shouldn't judge, but he and Annie were a product of that drift.

The last thing Ian wanted to do was talk to his father about the financial needs of this ministry. But if it meant keeping the doors to The Village of Hope open, Ian would do whatever it took. Too many people depended on this place. He wouldn't let it go under without a fight.

Ian looked the chairman in the eye. “I'll discuss this with my dad, but that's not the only thing I have in mind. Things will be different at the next board meeting. You can count on it.”

* * *

During her first day at The Village, loneliness invaded Annie's heart and every corner of her tiny apartment—her new home.
Home.
The word went straight to Annie's heart. She hadn't had a real home in years. Getting this apartment ready for her kids was a priority. She took a deep breath. The smell of pine-scented cleaning fluid filled the air. The rehab facility had been clean, but this place gleamed from floor to ceiling. She hated to think of the squalor she'd once lived in. Never would she live like that again.

Clean. A clean start. A clean life. A clean conscience.

Tempted to turn on the ancient TV for company, Annie couldn't think of a thing she wanted to watch. She surveyed the apartment's Spartan furnishings—a sofa covered in a plain blue slipcover that matched the single chair sitting at an angle in the corner. A small round wooden table and four ladder-back chairs sat in front of the opening to the galley kitchen.

Annie went into the kitchen and ran a hand across the smooth laminate countertops that mixed golds, browns and grays, mimicking the granite in her mother's designer kitchen. Annie longed to have Kara and Spencer with her and add a few personal touches to the place. That couldn't happen until she had some money. And that meant finding a job. Would Melody be able to help in that regard?

Taking a deep breath, Annie tried to dwell on God's promises. She should be grateful she had a place to live and people willing to give her assistance. But Ian's less-than-enthusiastic welcome blunted the other good things about this place. She couldn't blame him. How could he forgive her for choosing a life of decadence over him?

Annie jumped up as a knock sounded on the door. Did she dare hope it was Ian coming to tell her he'd changed his mind about representing her? Wishful thinking.

Annie looked through the viewer in the door. A distorted image of Melody came into Annie's vision. Her heart sank.

Manufacturing a smile, she opened the door. “Come in.”

“Thanks. Are you getting settled?” Melody set her portfolio and cell phone on the dark brown coffee table that sported a few nicks and dings.

Annie shrugged as she tried to hold her smile in place. “Not much to settle. I don't have very many things.”

“Do you mind if I sit down?”

“Oh, sure. I'm sorry I didn't offer you a seat.” Annie wished she didn't feel so awkward around this very put together woman.

When Pastor John had arranged for her to meet Melody, Annie had imagined a mother figure, but Melody wasn't the older woman that she'd created in her mind. Melody was young—maybe only a year or two older than Annie.

The other woman's gray business suit, a sharp contrast to Annie's blue jeans and white knit top, reminded Annie of her mother—all business and not much love. Annie longed for a gentle mother figure—something she hadn't had growing up. Her mother had handed Annie and her brother over to nannies and housekeepers. Marcia Payton had always been too busy for her own children.

Annie chastised herself. How could she have such critical feelings about her mother when she'd neglected her own children so much that they'd been taken away? She had no right to judge anyone, least of all her mother. Annie had felt emotional neglect, but nobody reported that to the Division of Family and Children Services. At thirty years of age, why was she worried about having a mother in her life? She should concentrate on being the kind of mother her own children could depend on.

“No need to be sorry.” Melody sat on the sofa. “I'd like to get some more information from you so I can help you find a job. That's part of what we do here.”

“That's good to know. What information do you need?” Annie hoped it wasn't something she didn't want to talk about.

Before Melody could answer, her cell phone rang. She glanced at it. “I'm sorry. I need to take this call.”

“No problem.”

Annie sat at the other end of the sofa while Melody spoke in excited tones. Annie gathered that the call brought good news. She wished she could receive good news, too. But hadn't she? She had a wonderful place to live. She should be grateful for the good things and try to move on from the bad. But with the history between her and Ian lying in wait to disrupt everything, she had a hard time being optimistic.

When Melody finished, she looked over at Annie. “Sorry about that. One of my ladies is ready to leave The Village and go out on her own, and someone has donated secondhand furniture for her to use in her new apartment. She'll be so excited.”

“That's wonderful for her.”

“Yes, it is.” Picking up the portfolio, Melody stood. “But, unfortunately for you, I have to meet the folks with the furniture, and that means cutting our meeting short.”

“That's okay.”

“No, it's not. We need to get things started for you, so someday you can do the same thing—go out on your own.”

“We can always do this later.” Annie tried to smile. The prospect of being on her own both excited and frightened her.

“There's no point in putting this off when Ian can help you with this paperwork.” Melody headed for the door. “I'll drive you over to the administration building so you can meet with him in his office. Then you and Ian can discuss your case further.”

Wondering whether she should tell Melody that Ian didn't plan to be her legal counsel, Annie followed the other woman out to her car. Annie got into the passenger seat and decided she would keep her mouth shut. Ian would eventually have to explain everything. “Shouldn't we call him first? Maybe he's busy.”

Melody pulled her car to a stop in the parking lot. “Ian is never too busy to help me out. He's there when I need him.”

Jealousy erupted in Annie's mind. Did this mean Ian and Melody were involved? Annie chided herself for letting old feelings creep into her thoughts. She'd relinquished any claim on Ian when she'd left him.

“That's good. It's always nice to have someone you can count on.” She hadn't been there for Ian. That was part of the reason she was in her current mess. Making a fresh start would be so much easier if he wasn't in the mix. What would he say when she was foisted on him again without warning?

Copyright © 2015 by Merrillee Whren

ISBN-13: 9781460345030

Small-Town Fireman

Copyright © 2015 by Alyse Stanko Pleiter

All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical,
now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

www.Harlequin.com