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  “We have more than our quota of volunteers tonight,” she said, “so I’m getting Stephanie to take over for me and I’m going to take you on a tour of the place and introduce you to a couple of gentlemen who have been keeping a long-running list of the things that never get done.”

  Again, he had conflicted feelings about Charlotte. She appeared to be so engaged in helping him and Tyson, which he supposed went along with her role as a teacher and a volunteer. But he couldn’t allow himself or Tyson to get too attached to her. The end of the school year would come before they knew it, and it was very likely she would be gone.

  Besides, what reason would he possibly have to get attached to her besides wanting what was best for Tyson?

  Soon, he found himself engaged in conversation with Ralph Meyer, a retired police officer, and Joe Rockaberry, who had owned the grocery store in town for years before selling it to his son-in-law. They both had an avid interest in keeping things shipshape at the church. It was clear that their white hair and aging bodies had no impact on the sharpness of their minds or the validity of their ideas.

  As they chatted about what Paul could help with, a quietly optimistic voice in the back of his mind said, I can do this. This is all going to work out. He caught Charlotte’s eye then, and was warmed by the encouraging nod that she gave him. But again he reminded himself not to count on her encouragement too much. His entire life had taught him that he couldn’t really count on anyone. Ever.

  “We should sit somewhere,” Joe suggested. “Put some kind of plan together.”

  The remainder of the time went by rapidly, as the three men sat in one of the meeting rooms and decided what projects would take priority. Soon Paul found himself back at the classroom door, waiting for Tyson to come out. He tried not to, but he caught himself watching for a glimpse of Charlotte’s blue plaid shirt and the bounce of her ponytail.

  Just then, Tyson came out of the room, chattering the instant he saw his uncle.

  “We had so many stories, Uncle Paul! Did you know David slewed Goliath even though he was way smaller and did you know that Max is my new friend and that she’s a girl, not a boy, even though her name is Max, and I want to come back next week, okay, can we?”

  When he finally stopped to take a breath, Paul smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself so much. Yes, we can come back.”

  Tyson jumped around excitedly. “Hey, Max,” he said to the little girl who had come to stand beside him, “I get to come back next week.”

  Max was tiny and blonde, wore pink overalls and had pink ribbons on her pigtails, so Paul was amused at how deep and froggy her voice was. “That’s great, Ty!”

  Just then, he spotted Charlotte across the room. She was smiling at a woman and holding a wriggling child in her arms while the woman put her coat on.

  Then he saw the library door open and a bedraggled woman emerged, looking like she’d just awoken from a nap. She held Michael’s hand but seemed detached from him.

  He saw Michael look over at Tyson and frown. A shot of apprehension went through Paul, but Tyson was engrossed in making silly faces with Max and hadn’t noticed.

  He reassured himself that the boy wasn’t in Tyson’s class. The evening at church had gone better than he’d expected, and he didn’t want anything to spoil it.

  Charlotte’s peal of laughter bounced across the room. Paul looked over to see that she was giggling at the antics of a toddler. He noticed other eyes were on her, too. Michael’s mother’s frown mimicked her son’s.

  Charlotte had said she didn’t know them. So why was the woman looking at Charlotte like she was angry at her about something?

  Charlotte came over to Paul and Tyson and said, “I’m really glad you came tonight. I hope you had fun.”

  “I sure did,” Tyson said.

  “It was great,” Paul said. “I’m sure we’ll be back. Thanks for introducing me to Ralph and Joe. They’re great guys.”

  “You’re welcome,” Charlotte said, her eyes shining with pleasure. “See you soon.”

  Paul found himself thinking that was something he hoped would happen. He definitely wanted to see Charlotte again soon.

  Chapter Four

  On her way home from school on Thursday, Charlotte popped into the pharmacy to pick up one of her favorite women’s magazines to read with her evening tea, and also to ask Stephanie how the rest of the night had gone with the literacy volunteer group.

  “I felt bad about leaving you guys,” she said. “But it was Paul and Tyson’s first time there, and I wanted to make sure that they felt welcome.”

  Stephanie looked over the rim of her glasses at Charlotte. “I’m sure you did,” she teased.

  “Oh, stop it,” Charlotte protested in a light tone. Because she was in her mid-twenties and not married, it went with the territory to be teased about every eligible man that came along. But still, she wished others would understand that she had no idea when she would seriously consider marriage. She was still trying to decide her life, let alone trying to incorporate a relationship into the equation, even with someone as undeniably attractive as Paul.

  “All joking aside,” Stephanie said, “the group was great. We missed you, of course, but we got a lot done. You know, it’s not just reading that they need help with, it’s a whole bunch of practical things, like how to take public transportation, how to open up a bank account, that kind of thing.”

  “I know.” Charlotte nodded. “We really have to make sure that we remember that many of them are starting a whole new life here and the things we take for granted are things that are totally new to them.” She added, “I noticed that boy Michael and his mother were there again, too. Has anyone had a chance to find out more about them?”

  Stephanie shook her head. “I think a few people tried, but they don’t make themselves very approachable. I have the feeling that the church isn’t so much a place they want to be as a place they’re using to get away from something, if that makes any sense.”

  Or from someone? Charlotte found herself wondering. But before they could explore the subject any further, an older gentleman stepped into the pharmacy and Stephanie excused herself to assist him.

  Once she was home, Charlotte sliced up some vegetables into the salad she was making for supper. As she twisted open the cap on a bottle of salad dressing, she thought about the previous evening and the time she had spent with Paul Belvedere to welcome him to the church community. She prayed that it had been a good experience for him. She noticed that Tyson had been more outgoing in class today. Of course, Charlotte thought with amusement, he looked more than happy to let Max Hansen lead the way.

  When Charlotte slid the silverware drawer open to get a fork, the drawer stuck as it always did. She frowned as she wiggled it gently to and fro. Finally the drawer opened, but instead of feeling satisfied, she sighed and mentally added it to the seemingly endless list of things in the house that needed fixing. Besides the sticky drawer, she needed more shelf space, the walls needed paint touch-ups, the leg on one of the kitchen chairs was wobbly and the light in the storage room remained out because she was intimidated by the light fixture cover.

  She thought of Paul’s offer to come over and help, and as she pictured his large presence in her kitchen, it did funny things to her pulse again. She wondered how she would possibly muster the courage to go overseas if she was thwarted by a few repairs. She didn’t want to need Paul’s help, but maybe if he could give her a few pointers, she could handle the rest. She wanted to be a strong, independent woman who could take care of herself and who had something to give back to the world.

  And, Lord, I want to stop feeling terrible about Anna every single day of my life.

  Then she did what she always did when guilt and regret threatened to consume her: she brought herself back into the present by being practical. She grabbed a pen and paper and started to make a list of things she w
ould need to do if she was truly going to consider the missionary work. At least that way she could feel one step closer to her goal.

  When she began writing her list, her phone rang. When Charlotte saw her parents’ number come up, she briefly considered letting it go to voice mail, but then thought better of it.

  “Hi, Mom,” she said.

  “Actually, it’s Dad.”

  “Dad? Is everything all right?” Charlotte asked. Her father rarely called her.

  “Yes,” he continued. “I just needed to let you know that I’m worried about your mother. Her health doesn’t appear to be improving and the doctors aren’t able to give us any solid answers. I’m actually afraid she might be getting worse. But you know your mother—you can’t get her to take a break from anything.”

  Charlotte was concerned about her mother, too, but the timing of the phone call discouraged her from believing she’d ever get a chance to do the missionary work. But maybe she wasn’t meant to go and her role was to be there for her parents, because what had happened to Anna was her fault. And now, to add to that, she found it hard to shake the uneasy feeling she got knowing that Paul had doubted her good intentions when he’d heard she was thinking of going away.

  But she had told God she was sorry. She had told Him so many times she had lost count.

  Dear Lord, can’t I please be allowed to have a fulfilling life of my own?

  “Charlotte? Are you still there?” She could hear the strain in her father’s voice. He didn’t like talking on the phone, so she knew he must be very worried to have called her.

  “I can talk to Mom,” she said. “Try to get her to slow down, and we’ll definitely keep on the doctors to look for what’s causing her severe headaches. But, like you said, you know how she is.”

  “Thanks, honey. I appreciate you trying,” her father said. “We’ll see you tomorrow for supper.”

  “Yes, see you tomorrow night.”

  After they hung up, Charlotte started adding more items to her list. But unspoken questions buzzed around in her head and she put the pen down. She decided that she would go for a walk to try to clear her head instead.

  And, Lord, she continued her prayer, am I ever going to feel Your forgiveness?

  Because, despite what the Bible said, she didn’t feel forgiven for not protecting Anna, not in the slightest.

  * * *

  On Friday morning, Paul was in a good mood—mostly because Tyson was in such a fine one. It was remarkable how quickly his life had been become impacted by the little boy—this adorable legacy of his sister.

  “Max knows everything,” Tyson said as he shoved cereal into his mouth. “She’s going to show me at recess how to tie knots like they tie them for ships.”

  “A good skill for anyone to have,” Paul said. Speaking of skills, he wondered if Charlotte would take him up on his offer to help fix up her house. He had to admit he was curious to see what kind of home she had and how it reflected her personality.

  “That’s what I thought, too,” Tyson agreed, with enthusiasm. “Uncle Paul, can you believe that Max and I were in the same class and we didn’t even notice each other and now we’re best friends?”

  “That’s something for sure.”

  “Maybe you and Ms. Connelly could be best friends or get married or something.” Tyson nodded as if something obvious had been decided and set his spoon down.

  “We’ll stick with friends for now, okay, sport? Take your dishes to the sink and go brush your teeth. We’re leaving in five minutes.”

  A picture of Charlotte’s laughing face came into his mind. That made him smile.

  After Paul had dropped Tyson off at school, he was relieved to get to work and let the busyness of the day take over and not give him time to think about other things. Although he fervently hoped that Mrs. Meissner wouldn’t be one of his customers today.

  Constantly hiding his illiteracy was exhausting. It had always made him acutely aware of what people did and didn’t pay attention to. No one ever questioned him, for example, in a restaurant if he just pretended to glance at a menu and said, “That sounds good. I’ll have the same.” These days no one even blinked if you hadn’t read a particular book or news article, since it was so quick and easy to keep up with current events by other means.

  But all of that didn’t make him feel any better about it. He was tired of hiding, but every time he thought of doing something about it, he was frozen with fear.

  Once again, he wondered how it would feel to share his secret with Charlotte.

  Just before noon there was a lull at the garage, and Paul settled himself on a stool in the back to eat the ham and cheese sandwich he’d hastily made that morning.

  When Harold came into the back to find him, he braced himself for the worst. But all Harold said was, “It was great to see you at church on Wednesday night. That’s the kind of thing that people here in town really appreciate.”

  “Tyson and I enjoyed ourselves,” Paul replied.

  “Carry on, then,” Harold said cheerfully. “I’m heading out for a bit. I shouldn’t be gone too long.”

  A few minutes after he left, the door chimed again, and Paul went to the front to see who had come in. He was caught off guard at how glad he felt to see that it was Charlotte.

  She was back in teacher mode, wearing a gray jacket, white blouse and gray pants, and she had her hair smoothed back into a tidy bun. He thought about how she’d looked on Wednesday night with her jeans, and her soft, loose hair and her ready laugh.

  “It’s like there are two different versions of you.”

  Had he really just said that out loud?

  For a second, Charlotte gave him an odd look.

  “I...ah—” He fumbled for the right thing to say. “I mean, your hairstyles...”

  “Oh...” Charlotte’s hand reflexively went up to the bun, and she smiled uncertainly.

  “You look great both ways,” Paul said. “I mean...”

  She also smelled good, the light scent of her soap reaching him, and he cleared his throat, feeling awkward.

  Then Charlotte laughed and broke the moment. “It’s okay,” she said. “I think I know what you mean. I have to dress more professionally for work but, between you and me, I’d live in my jeans if I could.”

  Changing the subject, Paul asked, “So, what can I do for you?”

  “I, ah... I want to take you up on your offer. I mean, could you come over sometime and look at the things that need doing around my place?”

  “I’d be happy to,” Paul said, grinning. “How about Saturday morning after breakfast?”

  Charlotte nodded, looking like she had accomplished something big just by asking. “That would be great,” she said. “I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem. I’m glad you asked.” He surprised himself with how much he meant it.

  It didn’t mean he was getting involved with her, he was quick to remind himself. She was helping him with Tyson, and he was helping her in return. A fair exchange.

  “Did Ty have a good morning?” he asked, returning to a subject that was safe for both of them.

  “Yes, he had a great morning. We talked about different kinds of pets this morning. What makes a good one and what doesn’t. I apologize in advance, because I think you might be hit with the ‘Can I have a dog?’ question any day now.”

  He chuckled. “I appreciate the heads-up.”

  The door chime signaled another arrival to the shop.

  “Charlotte? I thought I saw you in here!” Charlotte’s cousin Bridget poked her head into the office. “I’m just on a break and was on my way to grab a sandwich at Seth’s.”

  “Bridget is an assistant at the vet clinic,” Charlotte explained.

  “Hi, Bridget,” Paul said, trying not to be too obvious in his disappointment that his conversation with Charlo
tte had been interrupted. “Good to see you again,” he added politely.

  “Nice to see you, too,” Bridget answered. She linked her arm through Charlotte’s. “Walk over with me, Char?”

  “In a moment,” Charlotte said. Paul noticed that she didn’t seem in a hurry for their conversation to end.

  “By the way, have you talked to your parents about mission work?” Bridget asked. “Just think, Char, this time next year you could be halfway across the world!”

  “Yes, imagine that,” Paul said coolly. “Well, I won’t keep you ladies any longer, then,” he added. “Enjoy the rest of your lunch break.”

  “Will you still be coming over to help out?” Charlotte asked hesitantly.

  “Yes, I promise I’ll be there,” Paul said.

  He could only hope that she took her own promises as seriously.

  Chapter Five

  What exactly was the appropriate thing to wear when a handsome bachelor was coming over to teach her about home improvements?

  Charlotte’s nervous hands moved her clothes back and forth in her closet. She knew it was just a poor attempt to ignore the real question: Did Paul Belvedere like her or not? One moment he acted like he did, and the next it seemed like he couldn’t wait for her to leave, like when Bridget had come into Harold’s during their conversation at lunch yesterday. She told herself that it wasn’t so much that she wanted him to like her; she just needed him to trust that she was a good teacher for Tyson and had their best interests at heart.

  Frustrated, she yanked a purple shirt off a hanger and found an old pair of jeans on the top shelf of her closet. She dressed quickly, put on enough makeup to look presentable but not like she was trying too hard, and checked to see that the coffee was on.

  She had just finished putting her hair into a braid when there was a knock at the door. She took a deep breath and opened it to see Paul standing on her doorstep, holding a large toolbox. His masculine good looks made her foolishly wish that she had taken more time with her appearance. She pushed the thought aside. This wasn’t about them making a romantic connection. This was about learning practical skills that would help her to feel more independent. That’s what she wanted, after all—independence, not forming ties that were bound to break.