{"id":457,"date":"2010-03-07T11:22:00","date_gmt":"2010-03-07T11:22:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/2010\/03\/prevailing-love-by-loree-lough.html"},"modified":"2010-03-07T11:22:00","modified_gmt":"2010-03-07T11:22:00","slug":"prevailing-love-by-loree-lough","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/2010\/03\/prevailing-love-by-loree-lough\/","title":{"rendered":"Prevailing Love by Loree Lough"},"content":{"rendered":"

I haven’t had a chance to open this book yet. I was supposed to post this tour yesterday, but, I forgot! Once I read the book, I’ll be sure to post reviews for the stories. Loree’s a great lady and a wonderful author! I’ve known her for several years and she’s helped me greatly in my quest to publication! Give this book a try – order from online or pick up a copy from the bookstore! It’ll provide you with some reading enjoyment! \ud83d\ude42<\/em>
~Cecelia Dowdy~<\/a><\/strong><\/em>
\"\"<\/a><\/a>It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a><\/span><\/strong> book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Today’s Wild Card author is: <\/strong><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Loree Lough <\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

and the book:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Prevailing Love: 3-in-1 Collection: Sealed With a Kiss, the Wedding Wish, Montana Sky<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Whitaker House (January 2010) <\/p>\n

***Special thanks to Cathy Hickling of Whitaker House for sending me a review copy.***<\/p>\n

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\"\"id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444616591487374370\"<\/a>A prolific writer, Loree Lough has more than seventy-three books, sixty-three short stories, and 2,500 articles in print. Her stories have earned dozens of industry and Reader\u2019s Choice awards. A frequent guest speaker for writers\u2019 organizations, book clubs, private and government institutions, corporations, college and high school writing programs, and more, Loree has encouraged thousands with her comedic approach to \u201clearned-the-hard-way\u201d lessons about the craft and industry. Loree and her husband split their time between Baltimore suburbs and a cabin in the Allegheny Mountains.<\/p>\n

Visit the author’s website<\/a>.<\/p>\n

<\/param><\/param><\/param><\/object><\/p>\n

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $9.99
Paperback: 496 pages
Publisher: Whitaker House (January 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1603741666
ISBN-13: 978-1603741668 <\/p>\n

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:<\/span> <\/strong>
<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444618049878473954\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Prologue<\/p>\n

May 31, London <\/p>\n

Sam Sylvester was dying, and he knew it.<\/p>\n

When he closed his eyes, he could picture the huge red truck careening around the corner on two wheels, its chrome bumper aiming straight for the convertible\u2019s windshield.<\/p>\n

Right before the impact, he\u2019d glanced at Shari. As usual when they were driving, she\u2019d had her nose buried in the pages of a romance novel. \u201cIt helps keep my mind off all the dangerous drivers,\u201d she\u2019d once said. It doesn\u2019t get any more ironic than that, Sam thought.<\/p>\n

He wondered where Shari was now. He\u2019d seen the paramedics load her, bloodied and unconscious, into one of the ambulances at the scene. Had the Lord, in His infinite mercy, decided to take her home then and there, to spare her any suffering?<\/p>\n

It was a struggle just to open his eyes, but Sam forced himself. Nothing in the bustling emergency room could possibly be as horrible as the pictures in his mind.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook \u2019ere, doctor,\u201d came the mask-muffled Cockney accent of a nurse. \u201c\u2019e seems to be coming round.\u201d<\/p>\n

The broad, beefy face of a doctor peered at Sam from behind a surgical mask. \u201cYou know where you are, sir?\u201d he asked, bushy brows drawn together in a frown.<\/p>\n

Under other circumstances, Sam might have chuckled, because the doctor\u2019s breath was causing the pleats of his white mask to puff in and out like the bellows of a tiny accordion. Instead, Sam tried to muster the strength to nod. Yes, he knew exactly where he was\u2014on his way to heaven.<\/p>\n

But you can\u2019t go, he told himself. At least not yet. There was so much to do, so much to say, so many questions to ask before\u2014<\/p>\n

\u201cM-my wife\u2026.\u201d The words scraped from his parched throat like sandpaper across roughened wood. \u201cW-where\u2019s my wi\u2014?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDown the hall,\u201d said the nurse, patting his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs she\u2026is she\u2014?\u201d<\/p>\n

The expression on her face told him everything he needed to know. Shari had already joined their Maker in Paradise. But maybe, just maybe, he\u2019d read the blue eyes above the mask wrong\u2026.<\/p>\n

He ignored the pain\u2014pain that seemed to have no particular source, throbbing in every joint and every muscle. He screwed up his courage. He had to know for sure before he let go of this earthly life.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid she make it?\u201d<\/p>\n

In the moment of hesitation and silence that followed his question, Sam felt his own lifeblood seeping slowly onto the gurney beneath him. The doctors and nurses surrounding him were all perspiring, so why, he wondered, did he feel so cold?<\/p>\n

Drowsiness threatened to take him far, far from the ER, but he fought it. \u201cDid she make it?\u201d he repeated with force.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Mr. Sylvester,\u201d said the whisper-soft voice of the nurse, \u201cI\u2019m afraid she didn\u2019t.\u201d Another gentle pat. \u201cBut I can promise y\u2019 this\u2014she didn\u2019t suffer.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sam closed his eyes as a curious mix of gratitude and regret propelled a slow, groaning breath past his lips. Gratitude that his precious wife wouldn\u2019t be \u201cup there\u201d alone for long. Regret because their sweet little girl would have to live the rest of her days without them.<\/p>\n

At least Molly will have Ethan, thank God.<\/p>\n

Ethan\u2026every bit as alone in the world as Molly would soon be.<\/p>\n

For the first time since he\u2019d regained consciousness, Sam felt a profound fear pulse through him. Ethan\u2026. They need to contact him right now because Molly\u2019s going to need him!<\/p>\n

With a strength that belied his condition, he gripped the nurse\u2019s wrist. \u201cWhat\u2026what did they do with\u2026where are my things?\u201d he choked out.<\/p>\n

\u201cIn a locker, just down the hall.\u201d She fished in the pocket of her surgical gown as the corners of her eyes crinkled with a sympathetic smile. \u201cI \u2019aven\u2019t \u2019ad a chance yet to file it,\u201d she said, withdrawing a key.<\/p>\n

The way it caught and reflected the light made it look like a silvery cross, if only for an instant. In that instant, Sam pictured Jesus welcoming Shari home. \u201cIn my wallet,\u201d he said, struggling for air now, \u201cthere\u2019s a business card, and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Her blonde brows knitted with concern. \u201cPlease calm yourself, Mr. Sylvester.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

He watched as she blinked and tried to come up with a rational reason for him to calm down. His mind started to wander, and he recalled how he\u2019d been a volunteer EMT in Maryland before moving to London. He\u2019d witnessed enough accident scenes to know what impending death looked like. He knew that the remainder of his life could be numbered in minutes, and that he had just one reason to conserve his remaining strength: Molly.<\/p>\n

He thought about the joy she\u2019d brought into his life, into Shari\u2019s. From the moment they\u2019d picked up their round-faced infant at that crowded Korean orphanage eleven years ago, she\u2019d enchanted them with her dancing brown eyes and elfin smile. And the first thing every morning since, Sam and Shari had thanked the Almighty for blessing them with their beautiful, raven-haired angel.<\/p>\n

Life from now on would be hard for her. Very hard, especially at first. But Molly knew the Lord, and He would help her through those first sorrow-filled days. And she\u2019d have her uncle Ethan to look out for her.<\/p>\n

Molly adored Ethan, and Ethan had always loved Molly as much as if she were his own. Sam and Shari had discussed it dozens of times. The way he looked at Molly, the tenderness in his voice when he spoke to her\u2014that was the reason they\u2019d decided to make him godfather and guardian to their only child.<\/p>\n

This would be hard for Ethan, too, Sam knew. But he\u2019d be a good father to Molly. Sam was as certain of that as he was of God\u2019s boundless love.<\/p>\n

From out of nowhere, a line Sam had read somewhere reverberated in his head: In knowledge, there is power. Knowing Molly would be in good hands gave him enough physical power to persist with the nurse. \u201cThe card,\u201d he said again, \u201cwill you\u2026get it\u2026for me?\u201d<\/p>\n

The doctor nodded his approval, and the nurse left to collect Sam\u2019s belongings. He closed his eyes. Father, he prayed, let me hold on a little longer, for Molly\u2019s sake\u2026.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs this it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Squinting, Sam smiled crookedly at the card held between the nurse\u2019s thumb and forefinger. \u201cAfter all that fuss,\u201d he croaked out, \u201cI\u2019m ashamed to admit I\u2026to admit that\u2026that I can\u2019t focus enough\u2026.to read it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt says \u2018Burke Enterprises,\u2019 and under that, \u2018Ethan Burke, President and CEO.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

A relieved sigh rattled from his lungs. \u201cPraise God,\u201d he whispered. \u201cPraise Jesus!\u201d<\/p>\n

For a moment, an odd stillness settled over the cramped, brightly lit cubicle, despite the blips and hums of the equipment monitoring his heart rate and pulse, despite the nonstop efforts of the medical team to repair his broken, battered body.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d he asked the nurse.<\/p>\n

She raised her eyebrows high on her forehead, her stethoscope bobbing, as she pointed to her chest. <\/p>\n

\u201cYes, you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTricia Turner.\u201d<\/p>\n

Reaching for her hand, he said, \u201cWill you call him for me, Tricia?\u201d Sam squeezed her hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll see it gets done, soon as\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Another squeeze, tighter this time, interrupted her. \u201cI\u2019d like you to do it.\u201d Sam spoke slowly, knowing he had to conserve his waning strength until he could be sure Molly would be with Ethan as soon as was humanly possible. \u201cYou know as well as I that I\u2019m not walking out of here, Tricia, so say you\u2019ll grant me this last wish.\u201d<\/p>\n

She blinked once, twice, and then said, \u201cI\u2014I\u2019ll try.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Sam all but barked. \u201cPromise me, before I die. Because my wife and I chose Ethan, there,\u201d Sam said, nodding toward the card, \u201cto be our daughter\u2019s guardian, should anything happen to us. She\u2019s only eleven, you see, and I\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI understand. And you have my word. I\u2019ll phone him for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have your word?\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded just once, but it was enough. A feeling of great peace settled over Sam, and, smiling, he let go of her hand. \u201cThank you. And bless you, Tricia, for your kindness\u2026for giving me peace.\u201d<\/p>\n

When she began to fade from view, Sam thought, Not a good sign. Not good at all. Good thing he\u2019d given Molly an extra-big hug and an especially big kiss that morning. Good thing you told her how much you love her. And how you taught her to turn to God in times of trouble. The girl would need it\u2014soon. <\/p>\n

Soon, soon, soon, he chanted in his mind as a drowsy, dizzy sensation wrapped around him. The pain was gone now, and he felt nothing but the feathery weight of the stick-on patches that held the heart monitor wires in place on his chest. Sam closed his eyes and listened to the high-pitched one-note whine of the monitor.<\/p>\n

\u201cCode blue!\u201d someone hollered.<\/p>\n

\u201cCrash cart, stat!\u201d yelled someone else.<\/p>\n

Their shouts didn\u2019t startle him. Sam was beyond fear now. Somewhere in the deepest recesses of his conscious mind, he remembered his days as a paramedic, when he\u2019d seen the flat line on the monitor signal the end of a life.<\/p>\n

This is the last time you\u2019ll have that memory\u2026last memory you\u2019ll have, period!<\/p>\n

Did the saints in heaven remember their days on earth? And if they did, were they granted permission to visit their former world? Sam hoped so, because he wanted desperately to know that he could look in on Molly from time to time.<\/p>\n

The lead surgeon on the team applied electric paddles to Sam\u2019s chest, then bellowed \u201cClear!\u201d as Tricia prepared a syringe for one last-ditch effort to save him. But Sam knew it was pointless. Soon, they\u2019d realize the futility of their efforts, and by the time the doctor called time of death, he\u2019d be with his Father, and with Shari, in Paradise.<\/p>\n

Sam said one last prayer:<\/p>\n

Lord Jesus, be with Ethan now. Guide his steps and his words, for Molly\u2019s sake, as well as for his\u2026. <\/p>\n

Chapter One<\/p>\n

Same day, Potomac Hills, Maryland <\/p>\n

There\u2019d been a time when Ethan had enjoyed hosting parties\u2014the bigger, the better\u2014especially right here on his own riverfront estate. But his heart wasn\u2019t in this one. Hadn\u2019t been \u201cin\u201d much of anything lately.<\/p>\n

Not so long ago, his parties had been described in the society pages as \u201ccolorful affairs.\u201d But there hadn\u2019t been much color in his life lately, either. Even the sun setting over the Potomac seemed drab and washed out.<\/p>\n

Ethan stood on the pier, hands in his pockets, and looked back toward the great expanse of lawn, where no fewer than a hundred well-dressed guests meandered from tennis court to swimming pool to dual-level deck.<\/p>\n

You\u2019ve got it all, he thought, frowning. And from all outward appearances, he did have it all\u2014a successful, self-made business; a big, beautiful house on three acres of prime Maryland real estate; seven automobiles\u2014a sleek, high-priced sports car (for impressing the ladies), a classy, imported sedan (for impressing clients), and five roadsters of various vintages to impress himself\u2026and neighbors who were rich and famous, to boot.<\/p>\n

So why did he feel like something was missing? Something meaningful, something vital?<\/p>\n

There were two bright spots in Ethan\u2019s life: Burke Enterprises and his Korean-born goddaughter, Molly. The mere thought of the pretty preteen raised his spirits a bit. In another couple of weeks, Molly and her parents would arrive for a long, leisurely vacation, and already, he was counting down the days until the family would leave London for their annual trek to Maryland.<\/p>\n

A woman\u2019s shrill voice broke into his thoughts. \u201cPeewee-than!\u201d she hollered. \u201cThere you are!\u201d<\/p>\n

It was Kate, the six-foot, blonde marketing manager his vice president had appointed a couple months back. She waved a hand of red-taloned fingers above her head, and he sent a halfhearted salute in return, then faced the slow-surging river and ran both hands through his hair. He\u2019d been neatly dodging her blatant flirtations all afternoon, pretending the ice bucket needed to be refilled or feigning a must-have conversation with someone across the way. But now he felt trapped, like a captive standing at the end of the gangplank on a buccaneer ship.<\/p>\n

Her high-heeled sandals clickity-clacked as she pranced across the wide, weathered boards of the pier. \u201cEthan, what are you doing over here all by yourself? People are looking for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Of course they were. And why wouldn\u2019t they be? Somebody, somewhere, was always seeking him out for any one of a hundred reasons\u2014a favor, a raise, a piece of advice, an introduction to another mover and shaker. With shoulders slumped, he shook his head. Quit feeling sorry for yourself, pal, he chided. As his mother would have pointed out, God had blessed him with a lot\u2014materially and otherwise. But He\u2019s taken away a lot, too\u2026.<\/p>\n

\u201cEthan?\u201d<\/p>\n

You\u2019ve got two choices, m\u2019friend, he told himself, grinning slightly as he looked at the water swirling darkly around the pilings. Jump, or pretend you\u2019re pleased to see her.<\/p>\n

Turning, Ethan took a deep breath and fixed a practiced smile on his face. \u201cKate, darling,\u201d he said smoothly, taking the goblet of iced tea from her hand, \u201clooks like you need a refill. Let me get\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Laughing lightly, she patted her flat stomach. \u201cPlease,\u201d she gasped, \u201cone more ounce of anything and I\u2019ll positively pop!\u201d<\/p>\n

There was an awkward pause, and Ethan knew she was waiting for him to fill the void with some form of flattery about her figure. Unable to think of a single truthful thing to say, he let the moment pass.<\/p>\n

A quick glance at his Rolex told him it was nearly four in the afternoon. Another hour or so and the party would be over. The crowd had already thinned considerably; once the last of them had gone, he\u2019d call Sam and Shari to see if they\u2019d made their airline reservations yet. Last time they\u2019d talked, he\u2019d promised to have a car pick them up at Baltimore-Washington International Airport. They were the closest thing to a family he\u2019d likely ever have, so nothing but the best for them!<\/p>\n

Kate linked her arm through his and led him back toward the house. \u201cIt sure was nice of you to throw a Memorial Day barbecue for Burke employees and their families,\u201d she purred. \u201cI want you to know\u2026I\u2019m especially happy to be here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Yeah, I\u2019ll just bet you are, he thought.<\/p>\n

His vice president, Pete Maxon, had told Ethan what he\u2019d overheard Kate say two days prior: \u201cIf I play my cards right,\u201d she told the gaggle of gals gathered near the water cooler, \u201cI\u2019ll be Mrs. Ethan Burke by this time next year!\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Burke, my foot! \u201cCouldn\u2019t very well invite everyone else and leave your name off the guest list, now, could I?\u201d was his bland reply.<\/p>\n

By the time Sam and Shari had made him guardian of their only daughter six years earlier, Ethan had pretty much accepted the idea that Molly was the closest he\u2019d come to having a child. He would have loved kids\u2014a house full of them\u2014but a man needed a wife for that. And every female he\u2019d met so far had been like Kate, keeping her tummy flat and her sights firmly fixed on his checkbook. Hardly mother material!<\/p>\n

\u201cYou look very handsome today,\u201d she said, then threw back her back and laughed. \u201cWhich isn\u2019t to say you don\u2019t always look handsome. I just meant that in those jeans and that white shirt\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

A gale of robust laughter interrupted her. \u201cEthan, m\u2019boy! There you are! Seems I\u2019ve walked every inch of this plantation you call a home looking for you.\u201d The silver-haired gentleman fixed his gaze on Kate. \u201cWell, now, no wonder I couldn\u2019t find him,\u201d he told her, wiggling his eyebrows. Leaning in close, he lowered his voice to add, \u201cI\u2019d make myself scarce, too, if my date was as lovely as you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ethan heard the phone ringing in the distance. Without knowing why, he tensed. Everyone who might have a reason to call him at home had been invited to the cookout. \u201cKate isn\u2019t my date, Dad,\u201d he said distractedly. \u201cShe\u2019s\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDad?\u201d Kate interrupted. \u201cThis attractive young fellow is your father?\u201d She flung an arm over his shoulders. \u201cWhy, you don\u2019t look nearly old enough to have a son Ethan\u2019s age,\u201d she cooed.<\/p>\n

The older man attempted a W. C. Fields imitation. \u201cMy dear, you\u2019re an outrageous flirt!\u201d<\/p>\n

Kate kept her eyes on Ethan\u2019s father. \u201cNow I see where you get your good looks and your charm, Ethan.\u201d She turned slightly, aiming a haughty expression at her boss. \u201cWe-e-e-ell?\u201d<\/p>\n

His stiff-backed stance and tight-lipped expression spoke volumes. At least they should have. Kate didn\u2019t seem to notice at all how much her presence irked him.<\/p>\n

\u201cAren\u2019t you going to introduce us?\u201d<\/p>\n

Poor Kate, he thought. She somehow got the idea that Dad has more money than Donald Trump. Shoving both hands into his pockets, he stared at the close-cropped lawn in an attempt to hide his grin. If this is going where I think it\u2019s going, you two deserve each other. \u201cDad, this is Kate Winslow,\u201d came his bored monotone. \u201cKate, meet Sawyer Burke.\u201d<\/p>\n

During the introductions, he noticed that the phone had stopped ringing, and he wondered if Maria had answered it or if the machine had taken the call. Wondered, too, why a sense of foreboding still churned in his gut.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my dear,\u201d Sawyer said, bowing.<\/p>\n

Her hands clasped beneath her chin, Kate giggled like a silly schoolgirl. \u201cOh, but the pleasure is all\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMeester Burke! Meester Burke!\u201d<\/p>\n

All heads turned toward the deck, where Ethan\u2019s housekeeper was leaning over the railing with a portable phone pressed to her aproned bosom. \u201cHurry,\u201d she yelled, waving him closer. \u201cMuy importante!\u201d<\/p>\n

Maria had worked for Ethan for years. The only other time he\u2019d heard her carry on that way had been last Christmas, when the warmth of the fire had brought hundreds of praying mantis nymphs to life in the branches of the twenty-foot Douglas fir that dominated the living room. His heart pounding with fear and dread, Ethan took the steps two at a time.<\/p>\n

There were tears in the eyes of the plump, gray-haired woman when she said, \u201cOh, Meester Burke\u2026poor leetle Molly\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n

Not Molly, Lord, he prayed silently. Please don\u2019t let anything have happened to my sweet Molly\u2026.<\/p>\n

With a trembling hand, he accepted the phone and slowly brought it to his ear. \u201cEthan Burke here\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Burke? Um, my name is, ah, Tricia Turner, and I\u2019m a nurse at \u2019ampton \u2019ospital in London? I, uh, well\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n

He had a yard full of guests, so why was the little Brit hemming and hawing? But the instant she finished her sentence, Ethan wished he\u2019d never rushed her, even in his mind. Because not even her crisp Cockney accent made it easy to listen to the rapid-fire dispensation of information that followed. Sam and Shari had been killed in a car crash at Trafalgar Square, and their daughter was home alone with her nanny.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe hasn\u2019t been told yet?\u201d<\/p>\n

The long pause made him wonder if they\u2019d been disconnected. But then she said, \u201cNo. Before Mr. Sylvester passed on, he told us you\u2019re the child\u2019s guardian. He said you\u2019d take care of everything, including breaking the news about her mum and dad.\u201d Another unbearable pause ensued before she added, \u201c\u2019e was one brave chap, that pal of yours, \u2019oldin\u2019 on till \u2019e knew \u2019is li\u2019le one would be in good \u2019ands\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ethan slumped into the nearest deck chair, one hand in his hair, the other gripping the phone so tightly his fingers ached. The nurse\u2019s tone of voice rather than her words themselves told Ethan that Sam had suffered in the end. But how like him to bite the bullet until all the loose ends were tied up.<\/p>\n

Suddenly, the full impact of the news hit him. Sam and Shari, gone? Ethan struggled to come to grips with the stunning reality\u2014the finality\u2014of it.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Burke? Are y\u2019there?\u201d<\/p>\n

The oh-so-British voice snapped him back to attention. \u201cYes. Yes, sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2019ow long d\u2019you suppose it\u2019ll take you to get \u2019ere? I don\u2019t mean to be crass, but there\u2019s the matter of\u2026of\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIdentifying the bodies?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. Rules, y\u2019know.\u201d<\/p>\n

The bodies. The funeral arrangements. Ethan was at a loss for words.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you\u2019ll be \u2019ere soon, then\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ethan hung his head, shading his eyes with his free hand. Sam and Shari had trusted him to do what needed to be done should anything like this ever happen. Of course, he hadn\u2019t expected there would ever be a need for him to follow through; they\u2019d always been so full of vim and vigor, always so alive.<\/p>\n

The word reverberated painfully in his brain. If he\u2019d known, when he\u2019d signed the documents making him executor of their estate, that the prospect of making those hard, under-pressure decisions would turn his blood to ice, he might have suggested they hire a lawyer instead. An outsider. Someone who didn\u2019t love them.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow soon d\u2019you think you can be \u2019ere, sir?\u201d<\/p>\n

A mental image of Molly, alone in the Sylvesters\u2019 London flat with some barely-out-of-her-teens nanny, flashed through his head. She needed him, and if he had to pull every favor owed him, if he had to charter a private jet, he\u2019d get there by morning. \u201cI\u2019ll be on the next London-bound plane leaving Baltimore,\u201d he said. And, thanking her, Ethan hung up.<\/p>\n

Propping the phone on the arm of the deck chair, he stared out at the Potomac. It wouldn\u2019t be easy filling Sam\u2019s shoes. The guy had made fatherhood look as natural as breathing. No matter how tired or overworked he had been, Sam had always dug deep and found the energy to spend time with his little girl.<\/p>\n

Molly had told Ethan no fewer than a dozen times that he was her favorite grown-up. It was one thing playing part-time uncle. Being a full-time dad was something else entirely.<\/p>\n

For that precious child\u2019s sake, he hoped he was up to the task.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Three months later <\/p>\n

Through the two-way mirror in the waiting room, Ethan watched the therapist working with Molly. Miss Majors had been recommended by Pastor Cummings. Ethan had prayed before making the decision, and he prayed now that it had been the right one.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d been at his wit\u2019s end wondering how to cope with Molly\u2019s sad, stoic silence. Then Maria had suggested he turn to his church for help. He might have thought of it himself, except that church hadn\u2019t exactly been at the center of his life for the past few years. If not for Molly\u2019s refusal to speak, he might not have started attending again. But he\u2019d had no choice. Her condition was his fault\u2014no ifs, ands, or buts.<\/p>\n

His head in his hands, Ethan closed his eyes, unable to watch the child\u2019s sorrowful expression a moment longer. He loved her as if she were his own flesh and blood; loved her the way he\u2019d loved his sister Bess, his mother\u2026.<\/p>\n

Why did it seem that whomever he loved deeply suffered?<\/p>\n

With his eyes still squinted shut, he couldn\u2019t see into the next room, but he could hear every word thanks to the speaker overhead. The pretty, young counselor was pulling out all the stops. She\u2019d tried everything short of a song and dance act to this point, yet Molly hadn\u2019t uttered a syllable.<\/p>\n

Ethan slouched on the sofa. He kept his eyes closed and let his mind wander back to that terrible morning in London when he\u2019d broken the tragic news to Molly. Despite the speech he\u2019d practiced over and over during the red-eye flight into Heathrow Airport, he\u2019d messed up big time when the moment finally came.<\/p>\n

When he\u2019d arrived at Sam and Shari\u2019s, it had been easy to smile as Molly skipped around him in a slowly shrinking circle, clapping her hands and squealing with glee that her uncle Ethan had come to visit. They\u2019d played this welcome game since she had been old enough to stand on her own, and he cherished every giggly moment.<\/p>\n

That morning, she\u2019d wrapped her arms around him, just as she\u2019d done a hundred times before\u2026and then stopped. \u201cMommy and Daddy haven\u2019t called\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n

Worry and fear were etched on her little face, and even as Ethan had prayed for the right words to erase them, he\u2019d known no such power would be granted him that day.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey always call,\u201d she\u2019d said, looking up into his face. \u201cThere must be something wrong\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n

He\u2019d perched on the edge of the sofa, invited her to sit down beside him, and then, with one arm resting on her slender shoulders, looked into those dark, trusting eyes\u2026and lost it.<\/p>\n

What kind of a man are you? Ethan had demanded of himself as tears coursed down his face. You\u2019re blubbering like a baby\u2026. It\u2019s your job to comfort Molly, not the other way around! He\u2019d never felt more like a heel than during those long, harrowing moments when she\u2019d patted his shoulder, saying, \u201cIt\u2019ll be okay, Uncle Ethan. Don\u2019t cry. Won\u2019t you tell me why you\u2019re so sad?\u201d<\/p>\n

A minute or so later, after his carefully chosen words had been uttered, Ethan realized that in the space of a minute, maybe two, he\u2019d completely destroyed her safe little world.<\/p>\n

He hated the old adage that said, \u201cHindsight is always twenty-twenty.\u201d However, looking into her shocked, pained eyes made him understand the truth of it as never before. He\u2019d prayed for a kinder, gentler way to break the news. So, why hadn\u2019t God delivered on His \u201cask, and ye shall receive\u201d promise?<\/p>\n

He should have been gentler. Should have eked out the information more slowly. Should have brought in a professional to help deliver the awful, life-changing news\u2026.<\/p>\n

The ugly memory made him groan aloud and drive his fingers through his hair. The all-business attitude that had kept his nose to the grindstone while building Burke Enterprises had given him the drive and motivation to work until he thought he might drop, watch the market with a shrewd eye, and study his competitors even more closely. \u201cTell it like it is\u201d had become watchwords\u2014no exceptions. Straight talk had never let him down before, but it had backfired miserably that morning with Molly. He wondered what Miss Majors would say about his pathetic performance as a parent.<\/p>\n

Well, at least he\u2019d done one thing right\u2014he hadn\u2019t gone into detail about the accident. He\u2019d been to the morgue and seen his friends\u2019 battered, lifeless bodies. The poor kid sure didn\u2019t need the image of that in her head for a lifetime!<\/p>\n

Ethan didn\u2019t think he\u2019d ever forget the way her dark lashes had fluttered as her deep-brown eyes filled with tears. She\u2019d begun to quake, as if each tremor was counting the beats of her breaking heart. \u201cB-but\u2026but they promised,\u201d she\u2019d whimpered.<\/p>\n

\u201cPromised what, sweetheart?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2026that they\u2019d never leave me. Th-that they\u2019d be here for me, forever.\u201d She\u2019d punched the sofa cushion. \u201cThey can\u2019t be dead. It isn\u2019t true! It isn\u2019t!\u201d<\/p>\n

Not knowing what to say, he\u2019d simply held out his arms, his own eyes filling with tears again as he sent a silent message with one nod of his head: Yes, it\u2019s true.<\/p>\n

For a moment, she\u2019d simply sat, staring. Then she\u2019d thrown herself into his arms, and they\u2019d cried together. Ethan had no idea how much time had passed\u2014minutes? half an hour?\u2014before her rib-racking sobs and shirt-soaking tears subsided. Then, Molly had sat back, dried her eyes with the hem of her plaid skirt, and sucked in a huge gulp of air. \u201cIt\u2019s my fault,\u201d she\u2019d whispered, staring blankly ahead.<\/p>\n

She hadn\u2019t said a word since.<\/p>\n

And now, despite Miss Majors\u2019 valiant efforts, Molly sat stiff and straight in the bright-red armchair, ankles crossed and hands folded primly in her lap, staring at some indistinct spot on the floor.<\/p>\n

It would feel good, actually, to confess his faults and frailties to this stranger; it would feel equally good when she gave him the tongue-lashing he deserved, not that taking his lumps would change anything.<\/p>\n

The counselor stood up and walked over to the two-way mirror, flipped a switch on the wall, and tapped on the glass. Up to this point, Ethan had been able to see and hear everything that was going on in the exam room without being visible to its occupants. But now, Miss Majors and Molly could see and hear him, too. The counselor\u2019s beautiful green eyes zeroed in on his, and she smiled softly. \u201cMr. Burke, I realize Molly\u2019s session has ended, but I\u2019m hoping you\u2019ll stay a few minutes to talk with me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ethan blinked, unnerved by her intense scrutiny. Here it comes, he thought, the dressing-down of your lifetime. \u201cI\u2014uh, well, sure,\u201d he stammered, running a hand through his hair. He had the sudden feeling that this nervous habit betrayed a deep psychological disorder, and she must have read his mind, because Miss Majors tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.<\/p>\n

She opened the door in the exam room that led to the waiting room, then walked past him purposefully to her office, tossing Molly\u2019s file on the blotter on her desk. He followed and stood in the doorway. \u201cShe\u2019ll be fine in there,\u201d the counselor assured him. \u201cAs you can see, Molly is all wrapped up in a book she found on the shelf.\u201d<\/p>\n

He glanced back into the exam room, where, sure enough, Molly was sitting in that same red chair with an open book in her lap. How long was I lost in thought? he wondered. \u201cShe hasn\u2019t been that interested in anything since I brought her home,\u201d he admitted, meeting the therapist\u2019s eyes. \u201cHow\u2019d you get her to do that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s my job,\u201d she said in the same no-nonsense tone he remembered from the telephone conversations that had led up to this appointment. \u201cPlease, make yourself comfortable.\u201d<\/p>\n

She gestured to an upholstered armchair facing her desk.<\/p>\n

As comfortable as a body can get in a contraption like this, he thought, sliding onto its seat. Ethan immediately leaned forward, balanced elbows on knees, and said, \u201cSo, can you help her or not?\u201d<\/p>\n

Miss Majors was standing behind her chair, her pale pink-painted fingernails drumming on the wood-trimmed headrest. When she smiled, the room brightened. He was taken aback until he realized why her smile looked so different, so special. It wasn\u2019t a flirty grin intended to knock him for a loop or a seductive smirk meant to advertise her availability, which were the types he\u2019d grown accustomed to receiving from women of all ages. Her smile was honest, unpretentious. She was offering herself, all right\u2026but on a caring, professional level.<\/p>\n

Ethan found his respect for her growing, and he\u2019d opened his mouth to compliment her when she said, \u201cYes, we can help her. But it\u2019ll take time, perhaps a lot of it, to find out why she stopped talking.\u201d<\/p>\n

Pausing, she plopped into her chair. \u201cAnd it\u2019ll take a major time commitment from you, Mr. Burke.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her voice was soothing, rhythmic, like the calming sound of the Potomac lapping at the piling that supported his pier. Ethan sat back and crossed his legs, resting an ankle on his knee. \u201cI intend to cooperate in any way I can. Tell me what to do, and it\u2019s as good as done.\u201d<\/p>\n

Miss Majors wrote something in Molly\u2019s file, then stood up and walked around to the front of her desk. Perching on one corner, she said, \u201cI\u2019m glad to hear that.\u201d<\/p>\n

His mind began to wander as she matter-of-factly outlined a course of treatment. She\u2019s not much bigger than most of her clients, he mused. His gaze shifted from her big, green eyes to the mass of long, carrot-colored curls framing her face, making her look like a cross between Julia Roberts and Pippi Longstocking. And really, what kid wouldn\u2019t be attracted to a woman like that?<\/p>\n

Earlier, as she\u2019d walked ahead of him into her office, he\u2019d felt like a cartoon character floating along on the delectable scent of flowers and sunshine. The aroma reminded him of the hedgerow behind his childhood home\u2026lilacs? Honeysuckle?<\/p>\n

Ethan shifted in his chair, suddenly angry with himself. What sort of person was he, anyway, having thoughts like that about the woman who would help his little Molly escape her self-imposed prison of silence?<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you\u2019re agreeable, I\u2019d like to hold all future sessions at your house,\u201d she was saying. \u201cAt least, until we make some headway.\u201d<\/p>\n

It appeared she hadn\u2019t noticed how far his mind had wandered from Molly, and after a quick prayer of thanks, he nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think she\u2019ll benefit from being in familiar surroundings.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI agree.\u201d<\/p>\n

Miss Majors lifted her chin a notch and tilted her head slightly as those bright eyes zeroed in on his face. \u201cI think it\u2019s important for you to be available for the first few sessions, if at all possible.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, it\u2019s possible,\u201d he blurted out. \u201cNothing is more important than Molly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot even Burke Enterprises?\u201d<\/p>\n

He clenched his teeth. Hadn\u2019t he just said that Molly came first? What did she mean by that crack, anyway? \u201cNot even Burke Enterprises,\u201d he affirmed.<\/p>\n

She\u2019d said it to put him to the test. He could see it in her eyes, in the way one eyebrow lifted at his response. He\u2019d used the tactic himself plenty of times during hard business negotiations. And from the looks of her approving smile, he\u2019d passed.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood,\u201d she said matter-of-factly. She returned to the other side of her desk, sat down, and opened her daily planner. \u201cThree times a week, an hour at a time, for starters,\u201d she said, clicking a ballpoint pen into action. And without looking up, Miss Majors added, \u201cMornings are usually best for the kids.\u201d<\/p>\n

Most of Ethan\u2019s business meetings were scheduled first thing in the morning. But he\u2019d just underscored that nothing was more important than Molly, and he aimed to prove it. Reaching into his suit coat pocket, Ethan slid out his electronic calendar. \u201cNine o\u2019clock?\u201d he asked, hitting the On button.<\/p>\n

The upward curve of her full, pink lips told Ethan she hadn\u2019t expected him to agree so quickly.<\/p>\n

\u201cI owe you an apology, Mr. Burke.\u201d<\/p>\n

Confused, he blinked. \u201cWhat? But\u2026why?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor appearing inflexible.\u201d She shrugged. \u201cI\u2019ve been at this long enough to know that people rarely say what they mean. Especially people like you\u2014with plenty of money\u2014who can hire others to do what\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n

It seemed to Ethan that she hadn\u2019t intended to be quite that open and honest. Maybe that would teach her not to judge all her wealthy clients by the abysmal behavior of a few.<\/p>\n

\u201cMost parents say they want to help,\u201d she continued, \u201cand that they understand therapy will take time, and patience, and cooperation. But what they really want is\u2026for me to perform a miracle. Like I\u2019m equipped with a magic wand that\u2019ll fix everything with one quick stroke.\u201d She gave another shrug. \u201cIt\u2019s not an altogether fair tactic, but I\u2019ll do anything, say anything, go to any lengths, to help my kids.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her kids? Was that something all the self-professed child experts said to worried parents? Half a dozen other specialists had said the same thing\u2026and had failed to draw Molly out of her shell.<\/p>\n

Still, there was something about Miss Majors that made Ethan believe she could no more look him in the eye and lie than leap from the roof of this three-story building and fly to the parking lot! It made him want to give her a shot, if for no other reason than that time was running out. The longer Molly remained in her wordless world, the harder it would be to coax her out of it.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re the expert,\u201d he conceded. \u201cSo even when it\u2019s inconvenient, or difficult, I\u2019ll make whatever changes are necessary to help Molly.\u201d<\/p>\n

With pen poised above her book, she smiled. \u201cJust so we can get things started sooner rather than later, what do you think of my coming to your house at seven tomorrow evening? And when we wrap things up, we can schedule dates and times that work for all of us.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSounds like a plan to me.\u201d Without knowing it, she\u2019d spared him having to cancel and reschedule tomorrow\u2019s early-morning meetings. Ethan got to his feet and extended a hand. She stood up, too, and reached across her desk to shake it. The power of her grip surprised him, especially considering her slight frame. If her ideas about helping Molly were as solid as her handshake, things would right themselves in no time.<\/p>\n

Ethan pulled a business card out of his pocket and plucked a pencil from a mug on her desk overflowing with writing implements. \u201cIt\u2019s tough to find my driveway if you don\u2019t know what to look for,\u201d he said, sketching a small, crude map on the back of the card, \u201cso this should make it a little easier. Just watch for a gray mailbox.\u201d<\/p>\n

Accepting the map, she thanked him and, nodding, watched him as he left her office and entered the exam room. He felt her eyes on him as he took the girl by the hand and led her down the hall. If he hadn\u2019t glanced over his shoulder as he and Molly were waiting for the elevator, he\u2019d never have seen her wiping tears from her gorgeous green eyes. The sight of it touched something in him, though he couldn\u2019t say what, couldn\u2019t understand why. Her reaction should have roused deep concern. After all, weren\u2019t therapists supposed to remain aloof and unemotional if they hoped to obtain successful results?<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t like him to let go of a suspicion that quickly, that easily. He\u2019d sealed many deals with nothing more than gut instinct to go on. So no one was more surprised than Ethan when he said a silent prayer asking God to help him figure out if he\u2019d made the right choice for Molly\u2014or if he simply wanted to believe he had\u2014because something about the pretty counselor called to something desperately lonely deep within himself\u2026. <\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I haven’t had a chance to open this book yet. I was supposed to post this tour yesterday, but, I forgot! Once I read the book, I’ll be sure to post reviews for the stories. Loree’s a great lady and a wonderful author! I’ve known her for several years and she’s helped me greatly in […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[38],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-457","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-first-wild-card-blog-tour"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/paovYP-7n","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/457","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=457"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/457\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=457"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=457"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=457"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}