The Thre3 Pack

By SQ Eads

A "boxed set" of three of SQ Eads Novels in one package. Approximately 800 pages of clean, inspirational fiction by a popular, award-winning Christian author.
What readers are saying:
Unlikely Partners: "I was hooked on the characters right from the start. I love the tough lawman who lets a "woman" protect his back. I laughed at their antics and held my breath when they got into trouble. Her character descriptions are exceptional and put the reader in the midst of the action!! "
When Love is wRight: "I simply could not put this book down once I began reading. The author uses excellent language that made me feel as if I was right in the story with the characters. I have never been a fan of fiction, but after reading this, and downloading all of her others to a kindle, I know that I will forever be a fan of hers. I strongly recommend reading this book."
Arizona Redemption: "I was sucked into this book from the first page. It is suspenseful and the characters were very real and believable. I felt like I knew them and I didn't want the book to end. It portrayed their faith journeys in a very believable way, showing God's faithfulness through the pain and joy of life. "

• Language: English
• Publisher: SQ Eads
• Release date: Dec 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311527783

SQ Eads

SQ (Sunny) Eads, an award-winning author, was born and raised in southern Arizona. She received her higher education at Arizona State University in Tempe, Arizona and flew several years with American Airlines. Her love of Arizona and the mountains surrounding the state are evident in many of her novels. Sunny has lived in Arizona, New York, Pennsylvania, New Mexico and Texas. Inspiration for her characters comes from the hero she married, her two lovely daughters and especially her six wonderful grandchildren. Sunny believes that fiction portrays many of life's situations and that good fiction should be entertaining as well as educational, causing laughter and even a few tears. She hopes her readers find peace and joy in the midst of life's journey and eventually come to know the true giver of all life.Sunny is the author of several inspirational novels and her children's storybook, The Adventures of Ricky the Rock Squirrel. All are available at your favorite ebook distributor and also in print.

Book preview

Arizona Redemption

Copyright 2015 SQ Eads

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

-the same Lord is Lord of all and richly blesses all who call on him, for Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.

How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can they preach unless they are sent? As it is written, How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!

Romans 10:12b-15 NIV

Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 .by International Bible Society Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.

The following is a work of fiction. References to real events, places, businesses and organizations are intended to add a sense of reality to this work. The Honorable, Mayor Charles E. (Chuck) Eads actually existed. Any resemblance to any other person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

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

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eithteen

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Victoria Stilman skillfully steered the shiny, new SUV around yet another curve. She shifted into a lower gear as the grade of the narrow, mountainous road continued its steep decline. The thunderous roar of an oncoming truck overpowered the heavy pounding of quarter-sized raindrops against the windshield.

Oh, Tori, look. It's gorgeous. Tori's older sister, Bonnie, bounced and twisted like a three-year-old, exhibiting the most excitement she'd shown on the entire trip.

Bonnie, I can't look now. Her curt exclamation was in direct contrast to Bonnie's soft, awed tones, and her harsh words slipped from her mouth in perfect sync with the right-hand tires dropping off the scallop-edged pavement. Tori white-knuckled the steering wheel, gritting her teeth at the clunk and ping of rocks flying up against the undercarriage. Please, please don't chip the paint. Mumbling a few derogatory words about drivers who insisted on taking their half out of the middle, she carefully pulled back onto the road. Who says all the crazy drivers are in California? Someone shipped the worst of the worst to this little, nothing town in Arizona. I'd like to run them off this sorry excuse for a road.

As if determined to prove her criticism unjust, the road widened, its surface now glassy- smooth and even. It continued to curve more gently, winding through a canyon littered with houses of every size, shape and color imaginable.

Tori tapped the brakes of the heavy vehicle and traded her grimace for a grin as Bonnie's head swung from right to left – her pointer finger tracking her gaze – the occasional ooh and ah, accompaniment to her animation.

The buildings appeared haphazardly stacked one upon the other, reminding her of a child’s set of building blocks. Some looked as if they'd been chiseled from the gray stone itself, while others clung to patches of red dirt. Narrow, curving roads zigzagged and intersected, connecting the hodgepodge of buildings like the fancy stitching on a crazy quilt. Steps of stone and stairs of weathered wood added further texture to the living tapestry.

Tori? I'm praying we can stay here. It feels...nice. Bonnie's breathless words stabbed Tori like a knife blade.

Me, too, Tori, came the raspy comment from nine-year-old Carla in the back seat. A deep, wracking cough followed the brief statement.

Fingers of fear traced a path up Tori’s spine – again. Carla’s cough wasn’t improving and they had spent the last of their money on an emergency room visit and prescription medicine. So much for doctors and their guarantees. Bunch of quacks.

Trying not to sound as grumpy as she felt, she struggled to interject a note of gaiety in her voice. Hey, you two, we’ve just hit town. We don’t even know what the place is like, or if I'll be able to find work.

Okay, Tori…whatever you think. But I'll keep praying, said Bonnie.

Tori cringed. Bonnie never argued anymore, never insisted on her way, hardly ever really expressed an opinion. Tori almost wished she would. The two of them used to bicker. Bonnie, the oldest, wanted to be the boss, and Tori, the rebel, refused to take orders from anyone. However, since Bonnie had been assaulted, she'd withdrawn. She was like a piece of delicate crystal ready to shatter at the first hint of rough handling.

Tori tried to be gentle, but it was difficult. She was in charge now, making every decision, large and small, and surprise, surprise – she didn't find it as satisfying as she once thought it would be. The control she once coveted hung around her neck like a millstone. What she wouldn't give for just a wee bit of sass from her too-fragile, older sister.

Tori hated the fear and uncertainty that permeated her sister's voice. She hated herself for her part in thrusting more hurt and insecurity into the life of one who'd worn the cloak of those torments far too long. Bonnie deserved happiness, peace and security. And poor Carla. That little scrap of humanity didn’t even know what those words meant.

Tori determined anew to provide her sister and her ward with joy and hope, regardless of the cost to herself. Yeah, you did a great job the last time you tried to fix everything. That's why you're here. Why you're on the run.

Desperate to stop the piercing darts of accusation from penetrating the target around her heart, Tori eased to the curb and shut off the engine. The downpour has lessened. Maybe we can stretch our legs.

She infused her voice with all the confidence at her disposal as Bonnie and Carla fished under the seats for the shoes they’d kicked off after their last stop. We'll make it. We'll find a new life and be happy. I promise. We are setting out on a great adventure.

She reached for her sister's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Looking into Bonnie's blue eyes filled with trust, Tori found it hard to believe that the petite blond facing her was three years older than her own twenty-eight years. We're not really old – not exactly spring chicks either. The question is...what do we have to show for the years we've lived? If we were vehicles, they'd describe us as showing too much wear and tear, having been driven too hard, and involved in a few too many fender benders. So,if fate will give us a break this time, we'll prove we've still got plenty of good miles left in us.

The gentle rain stopped completely, like a giant hand turned off a faucet. They climbed from the vivid, canary-yellow Toyota Sequoia that Carla had dubbed Big Bird. As Tori carefully inspected its shiny finish for any damage, Bonnie and Carla found a shady refuge from the bright, May sun that burst through the fluffy, white clouds. Tori had never seen anything like it – drenching rain one minute and blinding sun the next. In San Diego the heat and moisture simply mixed together.

One final pass around the SUV and Tori was satisfied that the vehicle – their only asset – had sustained no chips or dents. She tugged her Arizona Diamondback baseball cap further down her forehead and leaned against the concrete wall next to Bonnie. They stood for several minutes in silence, taking in the three-dimensional tapestry before them. The mountain community was awash with color. Soft, earth tones were pierced and broken by lances and blobs of pastel color. Then a vivid splash of red, blue or green – even purple – that stood out in sharp contrast, would grab the eye.

What do you think, Bonnie? Is this an artist’s dream or his worst nightmare? Tori laughed.

I like that lavender one. Carla coughed. She couldn't string ten words together without falling victim to chest-rattling coughs. The little blond pointed out a small house tucked amongst several green trees. It reminds me of an Easter egg. (cough)

Tori’s companions continued to point out their favorites. Their soft conversation, the turquoise sky studded with white, fluffy clouds and the moist, warm air finally penetrated the tension holding Tori's body in its grip. Like gentle fingers untangling a skein of yarn, the knots of anger, guilt, fear, uncertainty and jaw-clenching determination slowly unraveled, leaving a thread of peace tickling her heart and mind. She desperately grasped at the tiny tendril of tranquility, aching for it to take hold and entwine her whole being in its protective net. It's been so long. Peace and tranquility haven't even been in my dictionary since – since forever. And certainly since I decided I could FIX everything so life would be great. Once I scratched my name on that piece of paper and said I do! things went straight to h--oops--downhill. She'd promised Bonnie she'd clean up her language – even in her thoughts.

Memories swamped her. Tears welled in her tired eyes, but with a determined effort she held back the overflow. I did care about you, Ricky, maybe not like I should have, but…I'm sorry. Probably, the only halfway smart thing I’ve done lately was to sneak out of the hospital, load Bonnie, Carla and all our meager possessions into the car and head east. Sucking in a deep breath, Tori reminded herself to stop thinking about the past, and concentrate on the future.

She swung her gaze to the left, skimming the hilltop where a white puff of cloud wrapped itself around a pale pink house as if to soothe and protect it from harm. Perhaps this small mountain town, uniquely beautiful, would provide sanctuary for her and her family. It was her job to care for Bonnie and Carla. Perhaps here they would find healing and rest – maybe even hope for the future.

****

M & M Construction. Lance Manning jerked the phone from his head as loud laughter crackled over the line and assaulted his eardrums like a gorilla playing the tympani.

I thought maybe Kate had come down with the croup when I heard that deep voice of yours.

Yeah, right. Lance chuckled. He dropped the receiver into place and switched on the speaker. It was easier on one’s hearing when talking to Chief of Police, Ron Kerwood. Too much time spent at the practice range without proper protective devices had significantly lessened Ron’s hearing. Hence, he assumed everyone in the world was half deaf, and he spoke at a glass-shattering volume.

Lance went back to doodling on the back of an old invoice. Just as a slashed Z had been the signature for the appearance of the legendary Zorro, so cartoons and caricatures scribbled on any blank surface were a sure sign that Lance had been there.

He felt rather ridiculous, sitting in the empty office yelling at the telephone but better that than to end up with damaged eardrums. Kate had to take Shelly to the doctor for her two-year-old check-up. Logan’s out loading sand. So, good old Uncle Lance gets to play secretary.

Another laugh thundered through the receiver and reverberated around the room.

Picturing his childhood friend in his customary pose – that of defying gravity by tilting his chair to a forty-five degree angle – Lance unconsciously sketched a giant of a man, his muscular bulk spilling forth over a tiny chair.

Hey, how’s the new chair holding up? asked Lance. He continued to fill in details in his drawing as he listened to Ron’s commentary on the super-sturdy office chair he’d recently received from the police department for fifteen years of dedicated service.

Lance's fingers flew and a shiny star took shape on the massive chest of his caricature. Then with a flourish, several bold black lines around the man's middle grew into a gun belt with an over-sized pistol, handcuffs, and various other paraphernalia. Lance cocked his head and added a few extra touches to his cartoon character.

So, what’s going down, Chief?

Oops, almost forgot. Actually one of your trucks might be going down.

Lance dropped his pen and snatched up the receiver. What do you mean, one of my trucks might be going down?

That young fellow you just hired has your new dump truck hanging ten off the embankment above Castle Rock.

Lance shoved away from the desk. Man, why didn’t you say so? Dropping the receiver into place, he didn’t wait for Ron to answer. He slipped mirrored sunglasses from his head to his nose, snatched a worn blue cap from a hook on the wall, and snugged it down over his unruly, blond hair.

Shooting out the door, he crashed toe to toe, shoulder to shoulder with his twin brother, Logan. It was a little like smashing into one's reflection in a mirror. Thick, blond hair bleached by the Arizona sun and struggling to escape the confines of blue ball caps, topped both six-foot-two frames. Sky blue eyes locked gazes as the brothers reached out muscular arms to steady one another. Denim jeans and work shirts covered broad shoulders and long legs, unwittingly enhancing the impression of casual strength and power.

Ted's in trouble with that delivery in Old Bisbee. Ron called and said something about his hanging ten over the embankment. You know Ron and his surfing terms. Anyway, I’ve got this horrible mental picture in my mind. I’m on my way to check it out. Pray!

He hopped into his blue Ford truck with the M&M Construction logo on the side, scattering gravel as he turned and headed toward the main road. Lance knew his telling Logan to pray was unnecessary. Logan took seriously God’s command to pray without ceasing and would simply add this situation to his ongoing communication with the Lord. His brother’s prayers on his behalf had been critical in getting him through the toughest of trials. Lord, help me to be more like Logan – on the inside. Lance thought about how truly identical he and Logan were physically, but he often found himself envying his brother’s steadfast faith. Help me turn to You first in every situation, and to keep the line open all the time. I still have a bad habit of depending on my own strength, leaning on the arm of the flesh, before coming to You. Teach me, Lord!

****

Tori, look! The timbre of Bonnie's voice shifting from awe to fearful uncertainty snatched Tori's attention.

Bonnie pointed down the road at a growing crowd of people.

Can you see what they're all gawking at? asked Tori.

Not really, but it must be trouble. As was her current habit when faced with difficulty, Bonnie threw up a protective wall, blocking out the potential trauma, and quickly switched to a more pleasant topic. I've been paying more attention to those three little kids playing in that huge ditch across the road. A smile colored Bonnie's voice now.

Tori turned her gaze to the three leaping, running, sliding munchkins. Their wild antics rivaled the action of any good swashbuckler. The would-be pirates were carting their box of captured treasure from their cardboard ship, which they'd left anchored in a large puddle. They were making their way to a small, dark hole in the hillside, probably intent upon burying their stolen goods.

Tori laughed at their imaginative play, then shifted her eyes once again to the still growing mass of people. Let's join the lookie-loos. Pulling her dark glasses from the brim of her hat and sliding them into place, Tori set out to find what was attracting so much attention.

Bonnie hesitated. Carla and I will stay here and watch the little pirates while you go look. Bonnie grasped Carla’s hand in hers as if to protect her from harm.

Tori knew that in Bonnie's mind a crowd usually meant trouble. She watched her sister's fierce protectiveness toward Carla replace her fear. Tori often teased her about her Mama Bear face. Defending Carla was the only thing that brought out the fight in Bonnie.

The two blonds snuggled closer, side by side. They were one, bonded more closely than many natural mothers and daughters.

When Tori had pulled a bloodied, seven-year-old Carla from the center of a gang beating two years ago and brought her home, she'd never thought it would be the saving of Bonnie. But breaking free of her own traumatic past to help someone worse off than she had given Bonnie a purpose in life. Her maternal instincts blossomed and burst forth to protect and enfold Carla.

Tori, don’t get too close. Okay? Bonnie's command was as close to an order as she came these days.

Tori looked down at Bonnie's petite frame. She was so feminine looking with her honey-blond hair softly caressing her creamy face, her floral sundress fluttering in the slight breeze, and the daintiest of sandals crisscrossing her tiny feet. She wasn’t much taller than Carla, whose blond curls were on a level with Bonnie’s shoulders.

I'll be careful, said Tori. At least she could give the verbal assurance her sister needed so badly. What a pair we make, Bonnie and me – a picture of contrasts. Feminine and tomboy. Light and dark. Short and tall. Timid and dauntless. Or maybe that’s smart and stupid, depending on who you're asking.

Crossing the two-lane road, Tori jogged around the corner toward the edge of the gathering crowd. She eyed the huge drainage ditch in which the kids were playing. They must get quite a bit of water through here at times. That thing is what...fifteen feet wide and almost that deep?"

She began maneuvering through the murmuring mass of bodies, hoping for a better view. Suddenly, the screech and wail of a police blow-horn burst through the air effectively squelching all other noise.

MOVE BACK! Everyone, please MOVE BACK!

Surprisingly, the crowd immediately began to back away. They scrunched into a small open area on the other side of the road.

Tori couldn't believe it. One country cop, and this whole crowd was obeying his every command like he was that dude in the Bible – Moses or something like that.

Not where I grew up. Twenty-eight years on the streets in downtown San Diego says I can find a way around this Barney Fife-type and see what's going on. With the thought came the action. Tori scampered around the back of the crowd, up and over a fence, around the back of a house and voila` – she had a front-row seat. It took only a moment for her to spot the cause of all the ruckus. Whew! Big Mack trouble...and I don't mean McDonald's.

Across the street, atop a fifty-foot embankment, hung the rear end of a ten-wheel dump truck. Though the bed of the truck was raised slightly, it looked like most of its fifteen tons of dirt was still jammed in place. This was common ground for Tori. She'd spent the last five years driving trucks for a landscape company. Buddy, I think you failed to open the tailgate soon enough; and, with your material dampened from the recent downpour, it won’t flow from the bed. You are in a serious fix.

Tori's gaze locked onto a boulder that slipped off the back of the truck and began to descend the embankment. Her eyes followed the stone as it rolled down, down, down until it finally dropped into the ditch at the bottom. The ditch! Her heart stopped as she spotted Bonnie and Carla. They had crossed the street and were leaning on the pipe railing, still watching the pirate-kids playing in the ditch. Tori realized that her unique viewpoint allowed her to see this added danger that was hidden from the mass of people with chins in the air and eyes focused on the teetering truck. Someone needs to get those kids out of the ditch.

While Tori was trying to figure out the quickest way from her position, a flash of blue caught her eye. She watched as a blue pickup truck screeched to a halt alongside the ditch. A tall man jumped from the truck almost before it stopped. He stood for a moment, hands on hips, looking upward to the precariously balanced dump-truck. His head suddenly snapped to the left. Tori knew the exact second he saw the kids. Before she could take a breath, he flew over the pipe railing and into the ditch.

When the man landed and started running toward the kids, Tori jumped her own fence, slid down a mound of rocky ground to the street, and continued at a run. She worked her way up the embankment, sending dirt and rocks tumbling after her as she scrambled for a foothold. By the time she reached the top, the lack of air in her tortured lungs folded her over like a rag doll with only half its stuffing. She groaned.

Not the smartest move only days out of the hospital. Gasp. She could feel the pull of stitches against skin. Breathe in…breathe out…slowly.

Finally she gasped her way around to the front of the big truck and on toward the driver’s door. Sucking in a deep, lung full of air she stood straight. Then with practiced ease, she lifted her right foot to the metal step, grabbed the hand bar and pulled herself up. Her left hand automatically grasped the door handle before she realized the driver was still in the cab of the truck.

Hey, buddy, how about you pull this machine out of here? Her voice squeaked with tension.

Tori watched a drop of sweat cut a muddy swath down the young man's dusty cheek. He seemed frozen in place, nothing moving except his lips. He kept repeating the same words over and over. Please, Lord…please Lord.

She softened her voice. Can you drive this rig out of here?

As if afraid to even turn his head, he muttered through clenched teeth. Nooo...can't... sooory...want out.

Tori hiked her chin up a notch and gritted her teeth – a sure sign of determination on the rise. I'd pray too if I thought there was anyone to pray to...but, even if there is a god, he'd never listen to me. So, as usual, I'm on my own.

"OK, dude. Here's what we're going to do. You're going to stay just as you are – not that you look capable of doing anything else – keeping your foot on the brake. Now set the parking brake. Go ahead, you can do it." She hoped she sounded encouraging.

It seemed to take forever for the kid to do that simple maneuver, but he finally accomplished it.

That’s my man, exclaimed Tori. Have you kicked in the interlock?

No. Panic shot out with the quick, one word answer, like a bullet fired from a gun.

Okay…no problem. The brake is set, right?

At his nod, Tori continued in a soothing voice. I'm going to open the door.

He flinched.

And you can climb out.

His hopeful glance was obvious, and the depth of his sigh almost broke Tori’s heart.

By the way, what's your name? Tori asked the question as she gently pulled the door open.

Ted! The word whooshed from his mouth with relief as he tumbled to the ground and staggered away from the truck.

Tori swung easily up onto the recently vacated seat and clasped the safety belt across her lap. Flipping up the red cover, she thumbed the interlock switch forward. Now, both tandems were driving. Okay, Sweet Mack, lets get your tail back on solid ground. I’ll work on getting the weight off your rear end, but you gotta promise me you’ll move forward and not try any fancy back-flips.

Tori disengaged the parking brake and slid the gearshift into low-compound. The back wheels dropped slightly, biting deeper into the soft ground and sending a chunk of Tori’s heart into her throat. A terrible possibility suddenly slammed into her brain. Who would take care of Bonnie and Carla if she got herself killed? Why didn't she think of that before getting herself into a dangerous situation? It had been less than a week since she'd luckily escaped the last mess. Was she doomed to stupidity? Tori shook off that depressing thought.

She applied more pressure to the accelerator and the roar of the engine grew. With the tandem axles driving together, the truck strained upward. Tori eased the stick forward, letting the hydraulics gently settle the bed into place as the Mack gradually pulled itself up and over the embankment's edge.

It was strange how five harrowing minutes could feel like hours of tension. She punched the horn in relief and as a sign of victory, then continued to ease the massive machine away from the drop-off. All wheels now rested on solid ground. Tori took a deep breath, kissed her fingertips and tenderly touched the dashboard. Sweet, you are really sweet, Mack. Terrible habit – talking to myself, but to machines? Crazy.

After checking her mirrors, Tori shifted into reverse. Easing backwards she was careful to stop inches short of the crumbling edge. She popped the tailgate and began raising the bed. A couple of bumps of the bed broke loose the clogged muck, and fifteen tons of dirt poured smoothly down the embankment. Tori once again levered the bed into place and maneuvered the big Mack into position. She faced the road leading off the hill, thinking to make it easy for the kid to take it from there.

Shoving the truck into neutral, she set the brake, flipped the interlock off and snapped its red cover into place. She released the catch on the seat belt and reached for the door, mentally patting herself on the back for a job well-done. A grin curved her lips. She loved driving big trucks and heavy equipment.

Maybe it's a control issue. All that power awaiting my command, resting under my fingertips. Shoot! Nothing else in life follows my directions. Is it any wonder I like working in a field that lets me be the master?

Metal creaked. The heavy door swung open and a huge, brown hand clamped around her arm and tugged her from the cab. Muscular arms slammed her against a broad chest then squeezed and thumped until she thought she’d pass out. It was a forgone conclusion, she'd have bruises on her bruises. But, she hoped the stitches across her ribs and back didn't pull loose. She wasn't ready to deal with that eventuality.

Tori cringed as her control passed to someone bigger and stronger. Why did it always seem to work that way?

Chapter Two

Lance Manning couldn’t believe it!

As soon as the three would-be pirates were safely out of harms way, he sprinted up the road toward the Clawson House Bed & Breakfast. His aching knee protesting all the way, he knew this would be his quickest route to the top and to his truck and driver. Praying as he ran, he was reassured by the few glimpses afforded him that Ted was handling the situation like a pro.

Lance reached the top as the Mack rolled to a stop at the entrance to the street, and he heard the sweet sound of the engine as it was shifted into neutral. No one was hurt, his brand new truck was safe and Ted…well what could he say?

Filled with thankfulness, Lance swung open the door and pulled Ted into his arms. He squeezed the scrawny kid tightly, praising God for answered prayers. With one final squeeze Lance set the boy on his feet. Poor Ted. It was the kid's first solo run with the big truck, but he'd done a great job in a dangerous and scary situation.

Smiling from ear to ear, Lance tweaked the bill of the kid’s Arizona Diamondback cap. Overcome with relief and joy, he playfully punched Ted’s bony shoulder. Super, man, you were super! Lance’s hearty laugh rang out.

Now just a minute here, mister. I’ve been pummeled quite enough for one day, thank you very much. You can just keep your meaty hands to yourself.

Lance jerked back as if he’d been slapped. That didn’t sound like Ted. The kid’s voice wasn’t deep, but he didn’t sound like a girl. He bent his tall frame in order to look at the face under the billed cap. Dark sunglasses knocked slightly askew…probably from his exuberant congratulations…revealed dark-brown eyes, not green ones…smooth, tanned skin with no fledgling mustache and goatee. No hint of whiskers. Probably wasn't old enough to drive legally. Yep, this sure wasn’t Ted under that hat.

Mind telling me just who you are? Lance thought he should be angry but couldn’t keep the joy out of his voice. He was simply too relieved to get upset about a little case of mistaken identity. Whoever this person was, he had saved his truck and no one had been injured.

The cap tipped up. I think it might be more appropriate if you apologized first for almost beating me to death. Is it your normal practice to go around pulverizing people?

Lance looked down into the indignant face…no sign of humor on those soft features. He tried valiantly to force his own face into a more serious expression, but he just couldn’t pull it off. He wanted to hug him again – a little more gently this time since he was rather fragile looking.

What am I thinking? This boy is already ticked. No sense making it worse. His lips twitched with the effort to hold back his relieved laughter. Suddenly another thought grabbed his attention and wiped all hint of humor from his face. Didn’t you just bail out of my truck and into my arms?

Ignoring the angry gasp his comment aroused, Lance quickly looked around for Ted, not spotting him anywhere. What did you do with Ted? What did you do with my driver?

With a look of disbelief, Tori shot back, I made him ride in the back and he went down with the load.

Lance ripped his sunglasses off with one hand. Brandishing them like a weapon, he pointed them in Tori’s face. Don’t get cute. I’m concerned about…

Here I am, Lance. Ted approached like a whipped pup with his tail between his legs. His booted feet stirred up a trail of dust as his dragging steps brought him closer.

Lance reached out and wrapped his arms around Ted. Hey, man, I’m so glad you’re OK. You had me worried for a minute.

****

Tori looked at the kid as he stepped out of the big man’s embrace and began to speak in soft yet excited tones. He rocked from one foot to the other and continued to shake his head in a negative gesture. About her height, maybe an inch or two taller, he was very lean…scrawny was the word that came to mind. Dressed in jeans, a dark blue T-shirt and an Arizona Diamondback baseball cap, they could easily be mistaken for one another. He even sported a long, black ponytail and an earring. Cover the face and they could pass for twins.

Maybe the tall guy isn’t such a nut after all. Even if he is a nut, he sure is a good-looking one.

Tori feasted her eyes on the big blond, liking the way the curls escaping his hat caught the bright sun in shiny spirals. His darkly tanned skin provided a sharp contrast to his golden hair and stretched smoothly over high cheekbones and a strong, square jaw. Watching the man hand over a set of keys to Ted, Tori suddenly realized she must look dumb as dirt standing there gawking at him. She had been gazing at him like a dieter in a bakery. With an unsteady hand she wiped her lips, glad at least that she wasn't drooling. Get a grip, Tori. After growing up around all the bleached-blond-would-be-surfer-dudes in San Diego, you don’t even like blond-haired guys and here you are swooning like a teenage groupie. It must be this town. Maybe we should drive back through Mule Pass Tunnel. I feel like we may have either crossed into the Twilight Zone or a time warp.

Tori shook her head and turned to go. She’d taken only a couple steps when a firm but gentle hand stayed her progress.

Whoa, fella! I’d like to talk to you for a minute.

Tori’s chin shot up a few degrees keeping pace with her temper. She was already put out at herself for gawking and now, big, blond and gorgeous drops the hammer on her ego. Fella? Fella! I would be the first to admit that I’m not exactly…stacked, but come on, man, give me a break.

She glared at him with enough animosity to intimidate a lesser man. Waiting for an abject apology, Tori was shocked when he jerked off the glasses, pierced her with sky blue eyes, then threw back his head and let forth a hearty laugh. The deep, bell tones rang throughout the canyon seeming to bounce and ricochet from hill to hill until the final echo died away in the distance.

Stunned, Tori opened her mouth, intending to rip him to shreds. Why you…. Disrespect in all forms was not new to Tori. She'd dealt with low-down men all her life.

****

No, please…really…I… choked Lance between chuckles. He stretched out his hands, silently begging her for patience and forgiveness.

Lance struggled against any further laughter, clenching his teeth until his jaws hurt. Taking a deep breath, he chanced a more thorough look at the irate figure before him. She was obviously female. How had he not seen that? He could only blame the turmoil of his mind.

He caught her gaze as she removed her glasses. It was almost his undoing. There was something both funny and precious about her that made him want to laugh and cry at the same time. Vulnerability draped her like a shroud and yet a fire of determination seemed to burn from within. He wanted to take her gently into his arms and assure her that whatever the problem was, he would fix it...with the Lord’s help, he reminded himself. Lord, you know this girl-woman and you know what she needs most. If possible, use me to help her.

"I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you…well, yes, I was laughing at you. Well, no, not exactly AT YOU, but … Lance groaned and rubbed his jaw in a gesture of frustration. He sounded like a third grader trying to explain to the principal why he was throwing spit-wads. I'm really sorry, but I have this tendency to laugh at all the wrong times. You know – embarrassing moments and stuff like that?"

The lady facing him didn't look like she had laughed in a long time. She certainly wouldn't understand his love of the ridiculous, but perhaps he should give her a chance. He firmly believed that laughter was healthy and promoted healing. She looked as if she could use some healing.

Once, when I was twelve, I had to get my braces rewired because my dad clamped his hand over my mouth in an effort to stop me from laughing. A smile curved his lips, and laughter rumbled deep inside as he related an event from his past. But when old Mr. Whitaker lost his grip on Big John’s casket and slid right off into the grave – well, I’ll tell you, only God himself could have kept me quiet.

Lance's heartbeat sped up when he realized he wasn’t the only one laughing now. So he didn’t appear macho and cool, so what? He liked the sound of her laugh, though it seemed a little rusty. Maybe, the least he could do would be to make her laugh – if she stayed around, that is.

By the way, I’m Lance Manning. Tucking his sunglasses in his pocket, he stretched forth a big, tanned hand.

Her hand looked very small compared to his, but she had a firm grip.

Victoria Stilman.

Well, Victoria, I…

I go by Tori…T O R I.

Tori. I like that. Pleased to meet you. He pointed to the huge truck still rumbling nearby. Thanks for the great job you did pulling the Mack out of trouble. You drove like a pro, so I’m thinking it wasn’t your first time behind the wheel of a big machine. You don't happen to have a CDL, do you?

At her affirmative nod, Lance continued. Would you be wanting a job? Lance was sending up prayer-grams as the words left his mouth. Logan would never forgive him for hiring someone on a whim. Plus, he had a reputation for bringing home strays, and he didn't want anyone thinking of Tori as his latest stray. However, with the driving skills Tori displayed, she would be a definite asset to the company, and no one would question his reason for hiring her.

If he confessed he was somehow attracted to her, Logan would really blow a fuse. He didn't understand it himself. All the emotions running rampant through his heart and mind as he looked at the tall, willowy woman...he must be losing it. This Ted look-alike might be just a girl, barely out of school and not a woman at all. She looked awfully young. Maybe the Lord just wanted him to help her, be a witness, show her God's love. Shoot Lord, I don't know what's happening here. Help.

He looked into the darkest, brown eyes he'd ever seen. Well? You interested?

Tori didn’t hesitate. Yes! Yes. I just got to town and do need a job. Driving is something I know how to do. And I really love it.

Lance smiled as relief swamped him. He hadn't realized just how much he wanted her to say yes. Great. Here’s my card. I can give you directions to the plant, or if you’re parked nearby, you can follow me through town. Ted took my truck, so I’ll be driving the Mack.

A delighted grin turned up the corners of Tori’s mouth. I’ll follow you.

Lance slid his glasses on and turned toward the truck, hoping she hadn’t noticed the strange impact her simple answer had on him. Lord, what’s goin’ on here? I feel a little confused and not quite in control. You know me and CONTROL, huh Lord? Lance chuckled as he imagined the Lord shaking his head and saying, Yes, Lance, you and I have a little more work to do in that area.

Chapter Three

Tori was a little out of breath from her sprint down the hill, but excitement buoyed her spirits. She found Bonnie and Carla sitting on the curb near their SUV.

Climb aboard, girls. We have places to go and people to see. Tori grinned at their confusion.

C’mon, c’mon get in. I’ll explain on the way.

Oh, Tori, is there any possibility we will be able to stay here? questioned Bonnie.

Yep, looks like it. Tori slipped the Toyota into gear and pulled onto the road behind the Mack. See that truck?

We saw you climb into that truck and drive it away from the edge of the cliff, cried Carla excitedly, before coughing long and hard.

Bonnie wrung her fragile hands in her lap. It looked very dangerous, Tori. I don’t know why you always do dangerous things. You’re like those little children playing in the ditch. They didn’t have the sense to get to safety. If it hadn’t been for a tall man in a blue hat, they could have been injured. If that truck had rolled down the hill…I just can’t think about it. You would all have been killed.

Tori took one small, tanned hand from the wheel and gently patted her sister’s clenched fists. "It’s fine, Bonnie. I'm fine!" she emphasized. And it really wasn’t a cliff, Carla…just a …a big hill. A pile of dirt, I guess. Anyway, let me tell you the best part. The man who owns the truck offered me a job!

Carla squealed and then began coughing again.

You OK, baby? Tori looked over her shoulder to check on Carla. We don’t have a lot of your medicine left, and we don’t have the money to get more right now, so try to stay calm.

Where are we going, Tori? Bonnie asked, as they followed a narrow ribbon of road between old three and four-story brick buildings that housed a great variety of shops. The windows overflowed with displays of art, pottery, herbs, books, clothing, and junk or antiques, depending on a person’s viewpoint.

We’re going to… Tori darted a quick glance at the card she’d tossed onto the console, M & M Construction. It was Lance Manning that offered me the job.

But, Tori, you don’t do construction work, exclaimed Carla.

Tori chuckled. I can operate the equipment. Hopefully, that’s what counts.

Tori flipped on the right turn signal and followed the ten-wheeler through a pair of large metal gates. She let the big truck put more distance between them so its huge tires wouldn’t throw gravel and accidentally chip her windshield.

Lance Manning had told her to go straight to the office; he’d meet her there after parking the truck, so she veered left into a paved parking area. Pulling in between a blue pickup with the company logo on the door and a bright red cruiser, Tori shoved the Toyota into park, ran the windows down and turned off the engine. She breathed deeply in an effort to calm her rapidly beating heart and force the sudden attack of nervousness away.

Carla’s deep, wracking cough jerked Tori’s gaze from the cream-colored brick building with large windows across the front and the M&M logo burned into a wooden sign over the door.

Hand me your medicine, and let me give you a dose. Maybe then you can stretch out and rest for a while. Tori quickly measured the strong cough syrup into a cup. She handed it to Carla, who grimaced at its awful taste but dutifully swallowed the vile stuff.

I still say it tastes like turpentine, complained Carla.

Tori leaned over the backseat and fluffed pillows so the little girl could rest. And I’m sure, being the flaming-sword swallower that you are, you know the taste of really good turpentine.

This teasing had the desired effect. Carla giggled and snuggled into her nest of pillows.

I'm new at it, but I'll pray for you, Tori, said Bonnie.

Tori didn't put much confidence in Bonnie's prayer, but if it made her feel better...fine. Tori gave Bonnie a shaky grin, stepped from the SUV and headed for the office door. Why she wanted this job, she didn't know. Oh, she needed a job to support them, but there was a desperate longing squeezing her heart that said this was more than important. It felt...life-changing? Yeah, what was with that? Tori mentally kicked herself for being too philosophical. A job's a job. Just get on with it, girl.

Sucking in a deep, confidence-building breath, she pulled the door open. The scene that met Tori’s eyes as she stepped into the air-conditioned building crushed her with an unexpected sense of loss. The tentative smile that had curved her lips dropped altogether as she looked toward the tall, blond man, the curly haired tyke snuggled against his chest and the petite brunette standing on tip-toe to receive his kiss.

Idiot! You don’t even know Lance Manning. How can you be disappointed that he is married and has a family. You have no business dreaming dumb, happily-ever-after stuff. Just be happy for the job. Besides, he couldn’t be interested in someone like you anyway, and if he knew your past and all you’re running from, he’d turn and head the other way for sure. You can’t afford to throw away a chance for this job, so grow up and get on with it. You have people for whom you are responsible…Bonnie and Carla need you.

Forcing a smile that didn’t seem to fit comfortably on her face at the moment, Tori surged forward with her right hand stretched out like a jousting lance. Hi, again. I’m really thankful for the job offer, Mr. Manning. You won’t be sorry you hired me. I'm ready to start any time you say the word. Tori slipped her hand in and out of his quickly without ever looking at his face. She turned her gaze upon the pretty woman now snuggled against his side. You must be Mrs. Manning. I’m very pleased to meet you…and this must be your daughter…looks just like your husband with all those blond curls. My Carla could pass for one of yours. Oh, great, Tori. What are you doing? You’re spewing out words like fluid from a leaking brake line. And telling her your Carla looks like her husband – with the world the way it is, the poor woman is probably thinking you’re getting ready to slap them with a paternity suit. Real intelligent!

With all the force of a tidal wave smashing against the shore, a burst of full-throated laughter crashed over the uncomfortably silent room. Tori recognized the resonant sound but one look at the tight-lipped man facing her made it very clear the continuing peals weren’t coming from his mouth.

Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a video recording, choked Lance as he stepped into the office from the back door. He continued to laugh as the others stood with various levels of confusion marking their expressions.

Unca Yance, 'mere, cried the little girl with her arms stretched toward the laughing man.

Yes, Unca Yance, 'mere! The man holding the blond cherub said. I believe you have some explaining to do.

Tori imagined she looked like someone watching a ping pong match as her head bobbled back and forth between the two identical men. She'd met twins before, but never two that looked like carbon copies of one another. How would she ever tell them apart? Oh, dear! She could foresee many embarrassing possibilities in the future...IF she got to keep the job offered by Lance Manning. As it looked right now, the other half of M&M Construction might not be willing to hire her.

Wondering if there was anything she could do to improve her chances for employment, Tori swung her gaze from Lance to his twin. She watched as Lance reached across the desk and caught his niece in midair as she launched herself at him.

Hey, Princess. He hugged the chubby girl and nuzzled her neck making her giggle with delight.

Love bound this little family together, making Tori feel excluded. Nothing new. She'd never had the love of parents or extended family. No one attended parents' nights at school, or cheered at sporting events. The streets of San Diego had raised her, with some help from short-term foster homes. She and Bonnie had miraculously managed to stay together, and they were everything to each other. Now, of course, they had Carla as part of their unusual family. For a moment, Tori wondered what it would feel like to be a part of a big, loving family.

A warm chuckle, accompanied by a large hand resting on her shoulder, snatched Tori from her pondering.

Tori, this is my brother, Logan, his wife, Kate, and this cutie, he snuggled the toddler, the boss of the whole Manning bunch...is Shelly. This, everyone, is Victoria... Lance grinned at her, Tori Stilman, driver extraordinaire.

Hardly, denied Tori. She shook hands with the adults, then smiled at Shelly. The little girl grinned back, then buried her face in Lance's neck.

Don't let Shelly fool you. There isn't a shy bone in her body. She's just checking to see if you'll work harder to get accepted, stated Kate.

Accepted. Not something Tori knew a lot about. Maybe that would change in the future.

Kate peeled her daughter from Lance's chest. We need to get home. I've got a few groceries in the car that need to be put away.

I'll walk you out, said Logan.

Kate turned at the door. Tori, welcome to Bisbee. I hope you decide to stay. If you need anything, please call. Lance or Logan can give you our number. I'd be happy to direct you to all the places a newcomer needs to find...church, doctor, dentist, grocery store, beauty shop, etc. Oh, we'd love to have you over for dinner, too.

Hey, I thought you had groceries melting in the car, teased Logan, as he ushered Kate and Shelly out the door.

Tori wanted to bask in the warmth and kindness of Kate's attitude, but unless these people were different from most she'd encountered, it was all an act. She only hoped she'd be here long enough to find out.

She desperately needed this job. Carla needs medicine, Bonnie needs peace and security, and I...need a place to hide.

****

An hour and a half later, Tori pulled the SUV onto a short, gravel driveway, then under a roomy, two-car carport. For a moment, they sat in silence. Then, with a squeal and a cough, Carla bailed out the back door and rushed to the front of the neat, plank-sided house.

Tori and Bonnie followed more slowly, gathering a few things from the car. They found Carla testing an old-fashioned swing attached to the porch roof. White spindles formed the porch railing, and a bright white door and white-trimmed windows contrasted with the baby blue walls.

Come on, Tori. Open the door. Carla wheezed then gave in to a coughing spree.

We'd better get some medicine in you. Tori put the key in the lock, twisted the knob, then pushed the door open. She was almost afraid to step inside, afraid the interior wouldn't line up with the beautiful exterior – like people who looked good but harbored evil in their hearts. She feared the house would be a disappointment, that it would be just one more shabby hole. Coward that she was, she allowed Bonnie and Carla to enter first.

Her brain felt fuzzy, rather like the one time she'd taken a puff of the neighbor boy's reefer. That one experience convinced her never to do drugs of any kind. She liked to be in control, and a foggy mind led to errors. Not that she hadn't made plenty of mistakes anyway. If Ricky was here, he'd be mad as all get out that she considered him a mistake. Yet in all honesty, he had been the worst decision of her life...so far.

She could hear Bonnie's soft exclamations and Carla's excited squeals. Following the direction of their voices, Tori walked through a small, but comfy living room and into an airy, country-style kitchen.

Bonnie stood beside a gleaming white stove, her hands resting on the top, and tears running down her cheeks.

Tori quickly stepped to her sister's side and slipped an arm around her shaking shoulders. What is it, Bonnie. What's wrong? We don't have to stay here. Tori kept her voice low so as not to upset Carla.

Bonnie gave her a watery smile. Tori, look at this place. It's wonderful, an answer to prayer. I can actually cook some healthy meals. You and Carla both need fattening up – and not from week-old donuts. I have a purpose. I can finally do my part and take good care of you. I can help make a home where you and Carla can rest after work and school...a...a refuge.

Tori's heart broke. She had no clue that Bonnie felt useless and without purpose. How selfish she'd been, thinking only of the heavy responsibility SHE was bearing in trying to support the three of them. She never once considered Bonnie's feelings or her need to be needed.

Wow! exclaimed Carla, rubbing her hand along a polished wooden dining table. And look... all the chairs match...how cool.

Simple things really – a table with matching chairs, a kitchen with a stove that worked, a carport to protect their one asset, a clean place to sleep, and a job.

Way cool. Tori choked on the words. Tears, that she would never allow to fall, clogged her throat. She didn't want Bonnie and Carla to see her as anything but strong and capable. She had to be their rock; but, if she didn't get away for a minute to pull herself together, they'd see past her tough, outer shell. They'd spot her weaknesses and her glaring incompetence.

I'm going to start bringing in stuff from the car while you two finish your tour. Tori practically ran through the house to the front door.

Knock, knock.

Just about to plow through the door, Tori jerked to a halt. Now this was a surprise. Two ladies stood on the porch, with smiles on their faces and their hands full of grocery bags. They didn't look like salesmen or the religious fanatics that canvassed the safer neighborhoods in San Diego, but Tori's voice was cool regardless. People didn't come to your door unless they wanted something.

Yes? Tori knew she didn't sound welcoming, but it was more polite than her initial impulse to say What do you want? Maybe Bonnie's prayers were helping after all. Maybe she was mellowing, getting nicer. Ha, sure she was. She knew her inner self, and nice wasn't an adjective she would apply to herself.

Hi. You must be Tori. I'm Esther Manning, Lance's and Logan's mom. This is my friend Bev Davis.

Oh, you're our landlady. I'm sorry, but we don't have the rent together yet.

No, no, honey. That isn't important.

Not important? Since when and in what world was not paying one's rent unimportant? Tori wondered if she was having a delayed reaction to the medicines they'd given her in the hospital before sewing her up. Nah! That was three days ago.

Lance mentioned that you'd just arrived in town today and we wanted to bring over a few basics to tide you over. Didn't want you to have to go to the store tonight, when I'm sure you're tired and wanting to unpack and settle in.

Tori stood stiff as the door post. She didn't know what to say. Were these people for real?

Bonnie's voice saved her from looking totally stupid. Tori, I was...Oh, hi. I didn't know we had company already. I'm Bonnie, Tori's sister.

Tori snapped to attention and introduced their guests, then politely invited them in.

Esther and Bev, as they insisted on being called, didn't stay long. They headed straight to the kitchen, set their bags of food onto the counter, loved on Carla, left an invitation to church on Sunday and a must attend invitation to a picnic at the park the next day. The two ladies smiled and hugged Carla, Bonnie and Tori and left as quickly as they'd arrived.

Whew! That was weird. I've been patted and hugged more today than in all the rest of my life. Tori wasn't the only one stunned by their whirlwind visitors.

I once read about some small towns where people did stuff like this. They called themselves the welcome wagon.

Carla skipped to the kitchen. Let's see what the wagons left. (cough)

Medicine first.

Okaaaay.

Carla swallowed her turpentine then happily began pulling items from the bags.

It's like Christmas in May.

Tori didn't remember the last time Bonnie and Carla giggled, and to think it was bread, milk, eggs, cereal and homemade cookies that brought about the happy sound. The tightness of tears began to build once again in her chest – and she wasn't a cry baby. She'd learned at the age of five that tears accomplished nothing. They were a sign of weakness.

It must be this town. It was having a strange effect on her. Never had she battled the desire to cry so often in such a short span of time.

Tori, we can finish this and make some dinner if you want to unload the car.

Thanks, Bonnie, that's a good idea. Would miracles never cease – Bonnie giving orders? Very politely, but orders, nonetheless.

As Tori stepped outside, she glanced at the cheap plastic watch on her wrist. Had it been only a few hours since they'd driven into this small town? Such a short amount of