Meant For Her: Intended For Her, #1

By Joy Avery Melville

Had it all truly been ~ MEANT FOR HER?

 

Kidnapped, raped, brutally beaten, and left for dead, Candi Reynolds becomes a prisoner of fear. Faced also with the impact of the unexpected break-up with her fiancé, and an unwanted pregnancy resulting from the attacks, she believes God has forsaken her. Choosing to move back to the Michigan horse farm, owned by her older brother, Dr. Cam Reynolds, Candi essentially goes into seclusion.

 

Dr. Patrick (Mack) MacKevon, long-time friend of Cam's, watches from the sidelines at the farm, where his horses are stabled, while Candi struggles to regain a sense of normalcy. His own big-brother tendencies develop into a much deeper emotion over the months he prays for her.

 

Is it possible for Candi to put all the pain and trauma behind her and renew her former relationship with the Lord? Will she allow her heart to open enough to discover authentic love, while making decisions of victory on her personal journey to joy?

 

Christian Contemporary Romantic Women's Fiction

 

                                                           

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joy Avery Melville
• Release date: Apr 17, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224710041

Book preview

~ Dedication ~

First ~ and above anything or anyone else~ To my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, Who saved me from myself and has loved me with an unconditional love that has never failed. The One who called me to write the message He wants out there, not the stories I’d had in mind. Thank You, Lord!

Second ~ To that wonderful man~of~my dreams, Jerry, and the countless and loving allowances he’s made in order for me to carry out that CALL I received to write in that last marking period of eighth grade. For all your supportive sacrifices ~ Thank you, Jerry.

Third ~ To the memory of my father, Cleon E. Avery, who encouraged me to be everything God wants me to be. The man whose own lifestyle of walking by faith, not by sight taught me to be ever mindful of the fact God holds everything He wants from us in the palm of His righteous right hand. We are but to trust and obey, regardless of the world’s logic.

Fourth ~ To my sister, Marilyn (Lyn) Hisey, who encourages me in my desire to become the writer God has called me to be. She has shown unwavering confidence in me, even through years when my infirmity made writing impossible. Thank you, Lyn!

Fifth ~ To the memory of Kate Hinke ~ Encourager Extraordinaire. How I wish you could see the fruits of your encouragement. Be assured, your name lives on in the way you’d hoped in Meant For Her.

TO GOD BE THE GLORY!

~ Acknowledgements ~

For one of the very important pieces to this puzzle I was putting together, I had to learn more than my extremely limited knowledge and experiences with horses. One woman was immensely helpful. My sole purpose in contacting her was strictly for equine research. She taught me more about equipment, handling, and veterinarian care, as well as sharing her personal experiences in horse ownership, than I will ever get to use, I’m nearly certain. She made me wish I were younger and could afford my own horse, but I’d be hard put to figure out which breed I’d own. I spent hours at your feed and tack store, enjoying every minute, Jamie Cripps Cardella, and I so appreciated your patient and immense help in my ignorance!

Then God connected me to a person I was asked not to name. This young woman helped me so very much in my quest to learn about the trauma associated with kidnapping and physical and sexual assault. I had no idea when this woman and I met that she’d ever gone through anything so heinous. Her ability to tell me what happened, and how, was astounding. The peace she exhibited proved her faith in God to be very strong. I thank her from the bottom of my heart, for sharing something so very personal and so mind-bogglingly life-changing. I wish I could thank you by name, but will honor your request for privacy!

There is a person who kept my body mobile for years before and throughout the entire writing and revision process of Meant For Her. He encouraged me and supported me; showing excitement for each milestone, which was certainly outside his professional title. That man is Dr. Timothy Swartz M.D, my rheumatologist. For your consistent belief that this story would reach this point ~ Thank you, Dr. Swartz.

Another area of expertise I needed was in the area of medical care and information. I did some research in two different settings in 2011. Since the writing of this book, practices and care have changed in the hospitals I visited. Also, what once had been the Vicksburg Hospital, turned Urgent Care, by the time Meant For Her was being written, has since closed. Please take these things into consideration when reading, if you live local to the setting of this story.

Numerous hands have touched Meant For Her ~ My very first Grammar Queen, from Constantine High School, no less, was brought back into my life (way more years after my last class with her than I’d like to admit here) by God when I needed her help. The sweet lady who taught me that pesky dual independent clause comma… Mary Broker.~ Thank you, Mary!

My first critiquer (critter as we know them in this writer’s world), and the first who absolutely loved Mack was Amanda Barratt. ~ Thank you, Amanda Barratt, for your belief in this novel.

There’ve been editors who worked for publishers and freelancers who made suggestions, tightened and slashed word counts…

BUT, the one who has held my fingers to the keyboard, encouraged me to keep digging for the right depth of a scene… even a paragraph… is an author, graphic designer, and above all those, my FRIEND. ~ Thank you, Dawn M. Turner for not giving up on me.

Proof readers ~ Somehow managing to find those itty bitty commas that were not supposed to be there or not where they should have been, slight suggestions of a word change here or there, when I’d been so sure nothing else could be found… or… changed ~ Wrong!

Thank you, Sara Foust, for your hard work in your own stress-filled days and,

Rebekka Bartels, who got in the last remarks as a proofer! Thank you, Rebekka.

Often an author has a first reader or readers known as Alpha Readers ~ I was privileged to share my story with two who saw Meant For Her in its most incomplete state. Not one self-edit had even touched it much less, a critiquer or editor.

One of these ladies had already given me permission to use her and her husband in the story and as a result, they became Pastor Sam and Debbie Stanwick. I’d asked her to read the first version. ~ Thank you, Debbie Archer for your generosity. Kate Hinke would be so very proud of you and your own book release this year as well! Give your Sam a huge hug for me.

The other of these women was a virtual stranger when she first learned about the book. We’ve become friends since, and since she works for a local eye clinic, she has been very instrumental in keeping my eyes from being burnt out by a computer screen from all the hours I put in working at one. Her comments, coupled with Debbie’s, kept specific things from being taken from the novel during publisher contract offers. ~ Thank you, Kim Vos~Morlan for your support and encouragement.

They say one should not judge a book by its cover, but there is a graphics expert who made a huge difference in this work, listening to God and reaching out when I… when the book… most needed her. Without her expertise, the significant cover would not have been produced, and the book would not have gone to print. ~ Thank you, Dawn M. Turner for teaching me and leading me by the hand with patience and without complaint. You have amazing talent in so many areas, and I’ve benefited very much from your… nudging… and willingness to share!

To my readers ~

This novel came about after an encounter I had with the Lord in early August 2011. I was in our kitchen, handwashing some dishes, and I overheard a news report from the TV in the living room about a missing woman. Police were sure the young, single gal had been abducted from her home. I stood at the sink, and prayed for the woman and her family.

Questions bombarded me. What if she’s found alive… what will she face? What if she’s maimed? How will she deal with it? What of her family? How will they deal with it? Later, we heard she had a fiancé, and I prayed for him. The questions continued to plague me. What if she lived, but had been sexually assaulted? How would her fiancé react?

It was into the first week of October before we learned she had been kept alive for a time, but was later found dead. My heart ached for that family. I prayed for them for several months. I didn’t know them personally. I’d had no contact with anyone who did. For some reason, their pain continued to touch my heart for months. I am sure the Lord was nudging me to remember that newscast for His reasons.

In the meantime, in late September, I went to an American Christian Fiction Writer’s conference in St. Louis, MO. I had written a Historical Romance genre novel, and I was so excited to be able to pitch it to agents and publisher editors. It was rejected. I knew something was off, but I enjoyed writing Historical Romance. I could not put into words the feelings inside that made me think that wasn’t what God wanted me to be working on.

I hadn’t been home for two days, when my heart was touched again with that news report from early the month before. It would not let me go. I knew if I wrote answers to those what-ifs in a fiction story, I’d be writing a completely different genre. Contemporary… not Historical… Women’s Fiction… not a Romance novel. I argued with God. Something I don’t recommend, unless you want to come out a loser.

In late October, I told God I’d be willing to write the book, but please, could I have a sigh-worthy ending? After all, most straight genre Women’s Fiction are pretty dark and those stories often end as dark, or nearly so, as they begin. God blessed me with a blended genre story.

Meant For Her is most definitely Christian Contemporary Women’s Fiction with… a very strong thread of Romance.

You, the reader, will have to answer whether or not it has a sigh-worthy ending.

Thank you for purchasing this book!

~ Scripture Verse ~

"As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good

in order to bring about this present result,

to preserve many people alive."

~Genesis 50:20

Prologue

Friday ~ November 15, 2013 ~ Vicksburg, Michigan

Stinging and prickling throughout her body, accompanied by a beep… beep… beep and muffled voices from a distance, invaded Candi’s senses. Convulsive shivers swept her extremities.

She attempted to open her eyes. Too much effort. Where were those voices? They’d been different. Maybe she’d become delusional from pro-longed pain.

Wait. Hands and ankles free. On a real bed and covered with some-thing heavy. No gag. Mouth dry… as dust. Throat scratchy. Odors different… Clean. Fresh. Antiseptic? No stale smoke. No musty or moldy smells.

Candi relaxed when fear met seeming safety and comfort. The shaking eased as she drifted on the edge of sleep.

Good evening, Pastor Sam, Jaime. You’re the ones who found our Jane Doe?

A man’s words penetrated Candi’s haze. They weren’t harsh or demanding. Friendly, yet authoritative.

Yes. Jaime did. Another man’s voice, softer than the first.

She wasn’t awake, Dr. Crandall, and she was icy.

It’s a good thing you found her when you did, young lady. Pastor, you know anything about her?

No, and as swollen and bloody as her face was, I couldn’t be sure if I’d ever seen her before. I’d taken Jaime hunting, hoping to get a deer today, and she went off the trail, following some fresh tracks in the snow. Within minutes, she was screaming she’d found a woman. Imagine my shock when I saw how right she was.

The lady was layin’ on her tummy, and her hands and feet were tied together behind her back with plastic things, and Dad took a rag out of her mouth. It was dirty and had paint spots on it.

The sheriff’s going to want those items.

The nurse put them in an evidence bag.

Something about those voices—If I could just reach them. Where were Steve and the one he’d called, idiot?

I’m not going to ask you to wait in the lobby, since you’re clergy, but if you go in to check on the patient, Jaime will have to stay this side of the curtain, at least until the police have been here.

It’s quiet. Did they leave?

In all my years as a doctor, I have never come up against anything like what’s happened to that woman.

Still there.

I wonder where she came from. How long do you think she was layin’ in the snow?

Who was that child?

The throbbing and aching radiated in waves throughout Candi’s body. So cold. So much pain. If only she could be sure she was free. If only I could quit shaking. Awareness faded.

The lady must’ve been freezing, don’t ya think? What happened to her? Why do ya suppose she was out there, Dad?

Unwelcome consciousness intruded with that child-voice again.

I really don’t know for sure, pumpkin, but we’ll keep praying she’ll be all right.

She’s got to be. God led us to her, right?

Sure seems like it to me. You stay put here. I’ve got to call your mom, or she’s going to notice it’s gotten dark and begin to worry, thinking we’re still in the woods. I can’t use the cellphone in this part of the building, so I’m counting on you to obey me.

Sure wish I could go sit with the lady.

No, Jaime. You heard what Dr. Crandall said when he was leaving.

Candi strained to get more through the ensuing silence.

Jaime?

Alright. I won’t go in, but, Daddy, I don’t want her to wake up without anybody around.

There’s a nurse in there.

Oh.

A smile tugged at the corners of Candi’s mouth at the disappointment in the little-girl voice. She opened her heavily weighted eyelids to mere slits and bit back a scream when the pale blue curtain at her side rustled then rolled on steel balls along the rod it hung on. A woman walked toward her. Candi allowed her eyelids to drop. It’s got to be a dream. Steve or his buddy will show up any minute. They always do.

Good. I thought you’d awakened. A warm hand touched her shoulder.

Candi flinched.

It’s okay. You’re safe at an urgent care clinic. As soon as the sheriff comes and can ask you and the people who found you some questions, we’re going to send you over to a hospital in Kalamazoo. We’ve about got you stabilized.

Kalamazoo? There was a hospital a whole lot closer to Bloomfield Hills than that. Candi closed her eyes.

Oh, no you don’t. Come on. Stay with me.

Candi moaned, forcing her eyes to reopen.

That’s it. Look at me.

She tipped her head, pushing her gaze upward through half-closed lids. The tall, fair nurse peered back, smiling. Her blond hair was drawn from her face to the top of her head in a messy bun. Her top, its design one of multi-colored leaves, drew Candi’s attention.

Dad!

Candi jumped, glancing at the curtain.

The nurse in there is talking to our lady. She must be awake. Can’t we go see her now?

A sigh. Someone grunted. "Jaime, not before the police and doctor tell us we can. If you can’t be patient, I’ll have to call your mom again and have her come get you."

I found her, and I wanna be sure she’s okay, Daddy.

I know, pumpkin, but we need to wait this out. We don’t want to make her feel worse, right?

I guess. Resignation tinged the child’s voice.

The pillow didn’t budge when Candi shifted, freeing her arm of the covers. She bit her lip then cried out.

Keep all of you under the blanket. You need to conserve the body heat we’re trying to restore.

Wh… wh… who is that out there? Candi’s voice grated just above a whisper.

They’re the people who found you and brought you in.

Whe… where? Where’d they find me?

I can’t answer that, but the sheriff should be able to tell you.

Sara Jo? another man’s voice called. Do you have the new admit there with you?

Yes. Come in, Don. The nurse patted Candi’s shoulder with a gentle hand. That’s him, and he’ll answer your questions when he’s done asking his. She reached toward the curtain as she spoke.

No. Candi’s voice rasped. Don’t leave… me. She tried to grab at the nurse’s smock but couldn’t get ahold of it. Candi cringed.

I’m not going anywhere. No need to panic. Lie still.

Candi weakly tipped her chin and looked directly into a man’s face, very close to her own. She jerked.

The beeping of the monitor at her bedside increased in speed.

Pain sliced from the base of her skull to the soles of her feet so sharply, she froze.

Sara Jo moved closer to Candi’s side. It’s okay. He was looking at the injury to your face and neck. This is Sheriff Williams. He won’t hurt you.

The man nodded, stepping several feet from the side of the bed, while taking a small spiral notepad and ballpoint pen from his jacket pocket.

Candi scooted, to settle against the rail on the far side, away from the large man, ignoring pricks of pain. She relaxed a fraction when she noticed his compassionate gaze. Still, when Sara Jo offered a hand under the heavy covers, Candi grabbed it.

Okay. Her voice squawked.

You were found deep in the woods, and you weren’t wearing anything. We don’t know who you are or how long you were out there. We’ve had a freak blizzard with freezing rain and snow over the last forty-eight hours. Other than Pastor Sam and Jaime Stanwick’s, there were no human tracks to or from where you’d been placed.

M… my… She tried to clear her throat of its irritation. I’m from Bloomfield Hills… Bloomfield Village. I’m Candice Reynolds… She hesitated when the nurse’s hand tightened around her own.

Sara Jo and the sheriff exchanged gazes.

Candi frowned, unable to interpret either expression. She coughed again. I was… two guys. She changed position on the bed and winced. Convulsive shudders shook her body again, enough to make the bed rock.

The nurse used her free hand to draw the covers higher under Candi’s chin before she checked the setting on the cord control lying on top of the blanket.

Take your time. You’re safe and sound, and we’re going to keep you that way. Right, Don… uh… Sheriff?

The officer nodded. Are you related to Dr. Cameron Reynolds of Schoolcraft?

My brother… I need to let him… and Harper… they must be frantic. Candi managed to croak partial thoughts out.

A lot of people have been searching for weeks. Sara Jo said.

Can you tell me how you got to the woods where you were found? The sheriff tapped his pen several times against his notepad.

I was working on the house my fiancé… and I will live in… after… the wedding. Candi gulped air. Two men. Heavy dark clothes and ski masks… tricked me into opening the front door. She swallowed before rasping, I thought it was Harper, my fiancé… before he—

Were you expecting him?

No. Thought he’d changed his mind… stopped by before… had to be at The Village Club. To… to pick up his mother to… for a… fundraiser. His father’s campaign.

His father’s campaign?

Candi attempted a nod, yelped in response to the pain, scrunched her eyes closed, and inhaled. Yes. Harper Bryant II. Second term… U. S. Senate…. My fiancé, Harper III… was supposed to introduce him.

"Oh, those Bryants." The sheriff’s brows met his hairline.

Candi quirked her swollen lips at his reaction. Ouch!

The sheriff’s’ brows dropped, and he scowled.

What’s that about? He should have known about Harper. Hadn’t the media interviewed him when she’d gone missing?

The officer cleared his throat. Okay, so you were alone in the house, and those two guys got you to open the door.

The taller man, Steve… the boss… held a knife to my throat. He had the other one get behind me and tie my hands together. I couldn’t get away.

Where did they keep you?

In a cabin. We drove for what seemed hours.

Close to three from where you ended up. How long were you there? Had they moved you from your initial stop?

Only the one place… Not sure how long. I was in a room… no windows. They insisted I keep a light on all the time. Didn’t know night from day.

You were in the snow quite a while. At least the last day or so.

What’s today?

November fifteenth. It’s my guess that’s what saved your life.

Huh?

"A local pastor and his daughter were out deer hunting, because today is the first day of gun season for deer. If that kid hadn’t seen deer tracks and decided to trail them, she and her dad would have most likely missed you."

He shuffled his feet and looked across the room for several seconds. As bruised and swollen as you are, someone must have beaten you repeatedly, and according to the doctor, they came dangerously close to an artery in your neck with that knife cut. Can you give us anything else to go on? Either of them have any distinguishing marks?

Never saw them without dark clothes and masks. Candi closed her eyes. She snapped them back open. Wait! She swallowed. Ice blue… Steve had ice blue eyes and a blue stone… yes. She closed her eyes again. Class ring with a light blue stone. Aquamarine, maybe? She sighed. Don’t know what school… or year. Couldn’t tell.

The nurse leaned over and lightly touched Candi’s face in front of her ear. I’ve taken pictures and cleaned the cut to your face and neck. It should heal fine over time.

Sheriff Williams’ forehead furrowed beneath the edge of his hat, moving it slightly forward. What can you tell me about the second man, Ms. Reynolds? Did he assault you, too?

Candi rolled her head away. Tears slipped from beneath her lashes. She slowly shook her head. I can’t… No.

Did he hit you? The pen tapping against the notebook sped up a bit and drew Candi’s gaze back his way.

She peeked up at his face, expecting to see impatience directed toward her evasiveness. Instead, it held concern.

He shifted his stance, and his look hardened. Is there anything else we should know that will help lead us to them?

He’s angry on my behalf. Candi warmed toward the officer. Yes. Steve punched me. The other one… he… She turned her cheek against the pillow.

He nodded her way, his eyes downcast. "How did you get that slash, Ms. Reynolds? Why don’t you tell me about that?"

She took a deep breath. Choked. Steve told… the other one… to… take me out into the woods and… She coughed and grimaced.

Sara Jo helped Candi sip some warm water from a straw. Take your time. Try to breathe through your nose and out your mouth. Your throat is extremely irritated, and talking probably isn’t helping.

I won’t keep you much longer, Ms. Reynolds. About that cut?

The other one was supposed to take me out and k-kill me. He tied my hands behind me… put one of my paint rags in my mouth… When we got farther into the trees, he pushed me to my stomach. She dropped her eyelids and took a deep breath. He tied my ankles and wrists together. I… I could only see him from the corner of one eye. He raised the knife and was crying. He walked away and then came back and squatted down. He… he said he had to have blood on the knife. Steve wouldn’t believe he’d done what he was told. I can’t say what he told me next. No!

Candi sucked in a gasp-like breath then said,I saw the knife up high, and I closed my eyes. I… remember the snow crunching when he walked away. I did… didn’t know I was bleeding. Thought it was tears until I saw b-blood on the snow later. The next thing I remember was waking up and seeing the nurse coming toward me.

His gaze became more penetrating. "Is there anything else?"

Candi glanced away and shook her head, only to stop due to dizziness. No. Wait. She swallowed with difficulty. Steve stuck me in the side… with his knife… at the house the… the day they took me. I think the cut’s infected.

The doctor said as much. Ms. Reynolds, I’ll let you rest, but we’re going to visit again after you get to the hospital. I’ll have to call the Michigan State Police in. You’ll have more questioning along with any additional poking and prodding the doctors will do. Do you understand?

Can’t you tell them?

You were taken over county lines. I don’t have jurisdiction anywhere near Bloomfield Hills, so I’ll have to call them in. They’ll need to hear it all in your own words, Ms. Reynolds. Be assured it’s worth repeating yourself, as their investigative equipment is more up-to-date and sophisticated than ours. They’ll want to get to the bottom of this.

But… I thought…. Where am I?

Vicksburg. You were found a ways out of town near Indian Lake.

I’m close to my brother’s place. Candi half-raised her head in excitement, only to drop onto the pillow immediately.

The sheriff smiled for the first time since he’d stepped into the cubicle. That’s right.

We’ll put a call into your brother and have him meet you at the hospital. Sara Jo spoke. I’ll ask him to contact your fiancé. Is that all right?

Yes.

Sheriff Williams turned and yanked the curtain aside. There’s someone waiting to meet you.

Is it Jaime? Candi’s swollen lips and face halted her smile.

He nodded.

Relief seeped in. She’d be with Harper soon. He’d make a lie out of what… the… other one’d said when he’d lifted the knife. He’d been wrong. Had to have been.

The sheriff and nurse stepped toward the corridor.

"Imagine what she couldn’t tell us, Don."

"I can’t begin to fathom it.

Candi shuddered, tears forming. Forget any of this ever happened. Put it behind you.

Chapter One

Thursday ~ November 28, 2013 ~ Thanksgiving Day ~ Schoolcraft, MI

Ka-thud! Ka-thud! Ka-thud!

Steel on wood resounded through the house and into the kitchen each time the knocker hit the thick, oak front door.

Though she recognized within seconds what had caused the noise, tremors shot through Candi’s body. She leaned against the table, clenching and unclenching her shaking hands. With her eyes closed, she steadied her breathing. In and out. In and out.

Answer the door, already. She grabbed the towel she’d slung over her shoulder, tossed it onto the counter, and headed for the front hall. Stopping momentarily, Candi tugged a chin-length lock of hair over the wide strip of gauze in front of her ear then moved forward.

Cam stood, propped at one side of the arched doorway into the family room, his arms crossed. I’d have gotten the door, but I figured you’d like to greet your guest.

His genuine smile and the comfort of his presence warmed her. Thanks, bro. Do I look okay?

Never better. I wouldn’t know anything had happened… if I didn’t know.

Candi grinned. "You couldn’t have said anything nicer."

The knocker banged another time.

Oops. Guess I’d better get that. Candi tried not to grin, but a second glance at her older brother’s smirk made her laugh. Stop it. I’m nervous enough. She cleared her throat and swept the heavy door open. Hel—

Mack. She gulped air and allowed Cam’s best friend to enter.

He moved toward her, smiling. Candi-girl, aren’t ye a grand sight!

She stepped back, wrapping her arms across her middle while her insides quaked.

Would there be a problem? Did I mistake the invitation or somethin’?

Candi shook her head, staring at the floor. Get a grip. You knew Mack was coming. Same Mack you’ve always known. She lifted her chin until her gaze met his broad chest then forced a smile. I’m sorry. It’s been a long time. I was expecting my fiancé to arrive first. I didn’t mean to make you feel unwelcome. She caught a fleeting glance between the two guys but brushed it off. Let me take your coat. Cam can get you some cranberry or tomato juice if you like.

Mack shed his coat and handed it to her with a flourish, dipping his head as he tucked one arm behind him in a pseudo bow. Ye grew into the perfect hostess, Ms. Reynolds. I’d be inclined to thin’ practicin’ with the elite of Bloomfield Hills has sophisticated ye some.

She gave him a mock curtsey in return, her eyes downcast. Why, thank you. Flattery like that might get you a second piece of my homemade pumpkin pie. Maybe. She’d have pulled that off, if only her voice hadn’t quavered.

Mack waited for her to precede him into the family room, where Cam poured each the juice of their choice. They moved around the end of the console table to sit in winged, high-backed, leather chairs on either side of the mammoth fieldstone fireplace.

Candi made sure to sit in one of the far chairs next to Cam’s.

Across the square coffee table, Mack studied her. I’d like to be gettin’ this out of the way before yer other guest arrives, Candi-girl.

She ground her teeth. Right. Cam told me he’d shared the grimy details with you. She flashed a look of disdain toward her brother. "I’m fine. I’m going to be fine. I don’t need either of you coddlin’—"

He held up his hand. If I may be so impolite as to remark… some thin’s never change… so I’d be interrupin’ the tirade I sense comin’ on. I was goin’ to say, I’d be sorry ye had to go through everathin’ ye have in the last couple months. I’d be glad ye have Cam and Harper.

Oh. Candi peered into her glass, subdued. Thanks.

"For the record, though we’ve not seen each other for a while, I want to tell ye that should ye ever need me… say, if ye canna get ahold of Cam or yer fiancé… ye can count on me. Mack bent forward, resting one arm on his upper leg. I understand why ye’d be hesitant havin’ me in the house, Candi-girl, but ye’d always be like a younger sister to me. I’d not let anathin’ or anaone hurt ye again, if I can help it."

Too bad he hadn’t been in Bloomfield Village that evening in October. She wouldn’t be the mess she’d become. She clenched a fist then sighed. I appreciate that. I’m sorry I’ve been selfish in asking Cam to not invite you in when you’re here to work with the horses. As for those Friday movie or game nights, like when you used to join us—

I’d not be offended in the least. He waved her apology away. "Trustin’ canna be easy. I know ye have God as well as Cam and Harper, but be certain sure… ye now have a fourth if the need should arise. For anathin’."

Heat bathed her cheeks as she averted her gaze to the fire then quickly to the floor. As for God… H-He wasn’t there when I yelled for Him. Cam, on the other hand, has been terrific.

Don’t you forget it. Cam set his small glass on the coffee table and reached across the space between their chairs to grasp her free hand and squeeze it gently. You’ve tried to hide your disgust of God, but I think I understand, to a degree, why you’re not willing to trust Him right now.

She stared at him. You do?

"Sure. When the plane crash took Mom and Dad on their way home from that annual medical mission trip after serving Him, I was as mad as I’d ever been. They’d done nothing to deserve dying like that, and we didn’t deserve to lose them that way."

That was news to her. All I’ve heard you say is how good God is and how grateful we should be for His blessings.

"You were too young to see and understand the turmoil I went through. I dealt with the worst of it before I took on guardianship of you, so you weren’t with me during the toughest part of my struggle. I had to come to grips with the differences of what I believed—really believed—and what I thought Mom and Dad would want me to do. He shrugged. It was at the same time I was faced with the fact I wanted to become responsible for a pipsqueak. Mack’s granddad gave me some good advice—to not do or say a thing unless it lined up with what you’d already been taught—that way I wouldn’t cause confusion for you while you were grieving. I was sensible enough to listen."

Cam swallowed audibly. "Besides, even with my own issues, I felt I had to be strong for you. I tried to comfort you by telling you God kept His eye on us. He paused and dipped his head. He made Himself very real to me through that entire experience, and I found all I’d been telling you to be true. Especially in the months following." He glanced at Mack but said nothing else.

The knocker rapped the front door.

I’d get that, if ye like, Mack said.

No, I’d rather. Candi leapt to her feet.

He nodded and tipped his glass to drain the last of his cranberry juice.

She looked him full in the face for the first time. The lines at the edges of his eyes were crinkled as though he was smiling into his drink. She walked into the front hall. Mack smiling? Right. Mr. Sober-Sides himself. He’d always been so serious when she was a child. Kind… but solemn-like. It’d always made him seem much older instead of younger than her brother.

Candi pulled the door open, smiling. Come on in, Harper. You’re just in time for dinner. She tipped her face and closed her eyes, bracing herself for one of his normally passionate kisses.

When his lips didn’t touch hers, she opened her eyes and found him looking away as he removed his coat. Alrighty then. No kiss in the vicinity of big brother and company? They were in the other room though. Nothing had stopped him on previous occasions. Is he afraid he’ll hurt me? That thought touched her heart.

She held her hand out for his coat, but he folded it over her arm without so much as brushing her with his. Grief, Harper! What’d you do with my fiancé? She smiled and tried to catch his eye as she moved aside before he went to join the guys in the other room.

He ignored her and strode into the family room.

Fine. What was his problem? Come to think of it, he hadn’t kissed her the one time he’d visited her in the hospital either. After his obvious shock at her swollen, bruised, and bandaged face, neck, and arms, he’d stared at the bed, never bothering to so much as glance at her again in the short time he’d been there. She’d expected questions, but he’d kept silent, allowing Cam to fill the gaps of silence when her mouth hurt too badly to talk.

Her brother had the Michigan State Police explain what happened between the kidnapping during the first week of October to when she’d been found near death in the snow the middle of November. Poor Cam. Always the father figure. Always the one to…

Candi shook off the memory and hung Harper’s coat in the entry closet, stroking one sleeve of the chocolate-colored cashmere with appreciation.

For the first time, the three men in her life were in the same room, and she quietly stepped over to the threshold of the doorway into the family room, taking time to study them.

Cam and Mack were alike in so many ways. Rugged at the horse farm, professional in their medical practice, and pretty much of the same spiritual persuasion, and although both were well over six feet tall, the similarities halted there. Cam had long black hair, thick with a slight wave, and though he kept it trimmed, he wore a full beard and mustache, also black. His brown eyes brightened or darkened with his mood, but the decided twinkle rarely disappeared. He didn’t often deviate from Western wear… then it was under duress. His features were more angular and his body-build lankier than Mack’s broad, muscular frame.

Mack kept his coarse, auburn hair cut short, because when he’d let it grow out in the past, it’d curled. She’d never seen him with a beard. Like a chameleon, his green eyes changed. Sometimes, depending on what he wore, they took on a near-peridot shade like the drab-olive shirt he was wearing. Other times they carried a more verdant hue. His casual choice in clothing, varying little between Levis and Dockers, hadn’t changed over the years.

Candi tilted her head, concentrating on Harper. He was shorter than the other two, eight or nine inches taller than her own five-foot frame. His professionally highlighted, brown hair was longer on the top and front. Once, she’d tried brushing the short lock that often fell over his forehead to the side, and he’d shaken her off, telling her to keep her hands out of his hair. His gray eyes rarely changed hue.

Harper, by far, was the most sanguine. Smiling a lot and usually chatting about inconsequential subjects with his peers. It’d been his smile that had captured her the day they’d met. He seldom wore anything casual. Most often dress pants and button-down shirts. Suits were a second skin for him. Cam, usually less introspective, smiled more readily. Mack was the quietest of the three. More thoughtful.

He looked up and stood when she entered the room.

She walked over to join them, perching on the arm of the chair Harper had settled into, the one she’d vacated to answer the door. Lifting an open hand toward Mack, she said, Harper, this is Cam’s best friend and business partner in both the medical group and horse-breeding programs, Patrick MacKevon.

Extending his hand, Mack reached across the wide coffee table. That’s Dr. Mack to me patients and their parents, but Mack to me friends. I’d seen ye from the stables when ye came to pick up Candi-girl a time or two before she moved to the Bloomfield Hills area.

Harper shifted, not-so-gently removing Candi from her place on the arm of his chair.

As she straightened, he leaned without standing to briefly shake Mack’s proffered hand. He pulled away nearly the instant their palms had touched.

So, his lack of touching has nothing to do with his concern for my injuries. Why hadn’t he hugged or kissed her in the entry?

Brrring! Brrring!

The oven timer. I forgot the rolls. Candi started for the doorway.

"Why would you set a timer? Can’t Cameron’s cook handle that?" Harper tipped his head back to look at her, his expression sour.

Candi glanced at her brother, meeting his frown. She scowled in turn, hoping he’d let Harper’s comment go, then she faced her fiancé, saying, I’d told you I’d be doing the honors. It’s a tradition for me to cook Thanksgiving dinner for Cam. It’s something I love doing.

He stared at her. "Really? I thought that was a ruse to get out of Father’s invitation. I didn’t know you could boil water, much less cook a complete