Teach me thy way, O LORD; I will walk in thy truth:
unite my heart to fear thy name.
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--Psalms 86:11(KJV)

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Everything is so much more complicated than in high school...

A powerfully emotional story of faith, redemption, and the strength of family love, this uplifting inspirational romance novel is the seventh book in Carol Voss' award-winning Noah's Crossing series.
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Excerpt

Chapter One

Shrill voices of hungry people and mouthwatering smells of a Wisconsin Friday night fish fry vibrated through Bernie’s Supper Club.

Running on empty with a bear of a headache, Patrick Forester walked purposefully away from the buffet table, gripping a heaping bowl of fresh salad fixings in one hand, a steaming platter of haddock and stack of garlic toast in the other. Good plain food, second to none he’d sampled anywhere in the world.

Patrick only hoped he could eat some of it.

He headed for the far end of the U of tables accommodating his brother Aidan’s wedding rehearsal dinner guests. Patrick skipped the empty chair beside his dad and concentrated on setting his food down on the other side of Mom.

She smiled, eyeing his heaped plates. “It looks like you’ve recovered your appetite.”

He sat beside her. “Almost good as new,” he fibbed.

“Are you?”

“I will be.” He did his best to meet her eyes.

“Thank God,” Mom murmured, her loving brown eyes filling with tears.

Patrick refused to think about his long, painful healing process since the Army patched him together and shipped him back to the States from Afghanistan. Being back in Noah’s Crossing was stressful enough. But he hated causing his mom worry.

“Aidan kept you informed, didn’t he?” Since Patrick’s return, his brother had flown out to Wyoming monthly to check on him. Patrick would like to think it was unnecessary hovering, but truth was, his brother’s visits had probably saved his life. He owed Aidan.

“Of course Aidan told us. I just wish you had come home.”

Patrick gave a heavy sigh. If it was just his mom and Aidan and younger brother Daniel, he probably would have.

“I’m sorry for your father’s comments at the wedding rehearsal,” Mom said quietly, as if reading his mind.

Patrick frowned at her.

“You really hurt him, Patrick. You need to talk to him.”

That thought sent Patrick’s headache skyrocketing. “He never talks… he dictates.”

His mother glanced at his father and took a long, slow breath, obviously seeking patience.

Patrick clumsily grasped a chunky slice of garlic toast, took a bite, chewed, and swallowed before he realized grace hadn’t been offered yet. “My flight was delayed,” he explained to Mom. “I didn’t have a chance to eat before the rehearsal.”

Mom scrutinized him, her expression less disapproving and more worried. “You need a good rest before tomorrow. I’ll take you home when you finish your dinner.”

“I’m staying at Aidan’s place while I’m here, Mom.” Patrick downed the slice of garlic toast, concentrated on picking up his fork and knife, and dug into the haddock.

“Then I’ll drive you to Aidan’s.”

“Thanks.” Patrick sure didn’t have the energy to sit around and socialize, especially not with his dad.

“But after the wedding, you will be staying in Noah’s Crossing for a while, won’t you?”

“I need to get back.”

“Back to what?” Mom gave him the no-nonsense look he’d never learned how to squirm out of.

“My physical therapy.” Patrick squinted, trying to make her understand the urgency behind his words. “Everything hinges on it.”

“I’m only talking about staying long enough to catch up and maybe allow you to gain back some of the weight you’ve lost, that’s all.”

Gaining back weight was the least of his problems, but he couldn’t tell her that without diving into a ton of explanation she never needed to know.

“Thank you, Father, for this joyous occasion…” Pastor Nick finally stood at the table with a bowed head.

Patrick made his uncooperative muscles lay the fork on his plate without dropping it and bowed his own head.

Saved by grace.

Not that his mother would give up insisting he stay. It didn’t matter. He would be leaving Noah’s Crossing the day after the wedding. His recovery depended on it.

Pastor Nick ended by giving the couple his blessing. And everybody settled in to eat.

Halfway through the mountain of food in front of him, Patrick realized his headache was easing off and so was any sign of hunger. He let his gaze wander the eating and chattering group.

He’d never seen his brother happier nor Aidan’s bride-to-be more radiant. Joy shone in all the faces around them as well. Apparently, everybody agreed Aidan and Leah were meant for each other, Patrick included.

Aidan deserved the best.

Patrick was just beginning to relax into the festive rumble of chatter around him when long, black, curly hair shimmering in the dim light caught his attention. A shapely woman in blue, her back to him, served coffee around the inside U of the tables. Something about the way she moved sent his heart rate into overdrive.

Rachel?

Couldn’t be.

Aidan had given Patrick a heads-up on their drive from the airport that Rachel was back in Noah’s Crossing. But that did not mean she’d be pouring coffee at his brother’s rehearsal dinner, even if her Uncle Bernie did own the Supper Club.

Aidan wouldn’t let that happen. Would he? He knew the very last thing Patrick needed was a Rachel blast from the past.

Patrick did his best to look away from the woman, despite his every muscle and nerve involuntarily fixating on her. When she rounded the corner and started pouring coffee into upturned cups in his section, his silly heart insisted on pounding harder. He clumsily turned his cup upside down and stretched to see over people in his line of vision. Finally, he got a glimpse of the woman’s profile.

He gulped, unexpected pain seizing his chest.

“Are you alright?” Mom asked.

He looked away and fumbled in his pocket for a pain pill. He never wanted to see Rachel again in his lifetime. And to do it face-to-face with everybody watching…

It was incomprehensible.

Discreetly, he popped the pill into his mouth.

“Rachel,” Dad said from the other side of Mom. “Are we going to hear you sing tonight?”

“I’m taking a break from my music, Mr. Forester.”

“Oh, we can’t have that,” Dad boomed in his commanding military voice. “We all want to hear you sing.”

Good old Dad trying to run Rachel’s life, but why would she be any different than anybody else?

Rachel filled Patrick’s mother’s cup.

“Thank you, Rachel,” Mom said.

Desperate to get out of there, Patrick climbed to his feet.

Too late.

Once again, he was peering into the deepest, clearest blue eyes he’d ever seen.

Eyes that couldn’t be trusted.

“Patrick… hi.”

He managed a nod as he grasped a strangled breath. She’d always been striking, but she’d been a girl the last time he’d seen her.

Not anymore.

She’d grown into a stunning woman… softer, fuller, more sophisticated. Faint laugh lines accenting the corners of her eyes only enhanced their mesmerizing depth and clarity. Her nose seemed more finely sculpted, her mouth…

He closed his eyes against memories of her breathtaking kisses.

“I still don’t like coffee either,” she said.

“What?” He opened his eyes.

Her focus dipped to his inverted coffee cup, then back to his face. She gave him a tentative smile. “You still like Mountain Dew? I can get you one of those.”

A chill snaked through him.

Nope. She didn’t get to do that.

No way was he taking a jaunt down memory lane with her. Not about their shared coffee and soda preferences nor anything else. “No.”

“It’s good to see you,” she said quietly. “I hope we can talk while you are home.”

He swallowed and reached for numb. “I… I don’t have anything to say.”

Her eyes flinched. “Will you listen then?”

Listen?

Was she crazy?

No way, no how could he risk her drawing him into her orbit again. He’d have to be insane. “I’m here only for the wedding. Leaving Sunday morning.”

“Patrick, no.” His mother stood up beside him and laid her hand on his arm. “You just got home.”

As reluctant as he was to get into this with his mom again, it was a relief he no longer had to talk to Rachel directly. “Can’t be helped, Mom. Like I said, I need to get back to my physical therapy regimen.”

“We have physical therapists right here in Noah’s Crossing now.” Mom patted his arm as if his longer stay was decided.

“My return ticket is for Sunday,” Patrick countered.

“Then we’ll just have to change it.”

“No changes allowed on return tickets.”

“Oh, I’m sure we can work something out.”

“No need. I’m leaving Sunday.” Patrick turned away, bent on escape. Too bad Leah, Aidan’s fiancé, suddenly appeared at Patrick’s other elbow, boxing him in.

“You’re Rachel,” Leah said cheerily and introduced herself. “I didn’t realize who you were earlier. I’m so happy to meet you.”

“I’m glad to meet you too,” Rachel said.

Patrick intentionally focused on Leah, but he could still feel Rachel watching him out of the corner of her eye.

He needed to get out of here.

“Congratulations on your wedding,” Rachel said.

“Thank you,” Leah gushed. “Aidan and I would love for you to come to our reception at the farm tomorrow.”

Patrick’s stomach lurched. “I’m sure Rachel already has—”

“What a thoughtful idea, Leah,” Patrick’s mother said sweetly.

Patrick managed to stifle a groan. But he shouldn’t be surprised at his mom’s support for Leah’s gesture. His parents had both adored Rachel.

Rachel gave Patrick a fleeting little smile. Apologetic or gloating, he couldn’t be sure.

And then Aidan was there too.

“You okay?” Aidan asked quietly.

Patrick met his brother’s eyes. “Get me out of here.”

Aidan glanced around as if looking for a fast getaway route.

“I asked Rachel to come to our reception,” Leah said, looking up at her soon-to-be husband with so much love, there was just nobody else around. “We want everybody to celebrate with us, don’t we, Aidan?”

“Of course we do.” Aidan beamed at her, the smitten grin on his face announcing his complete and utter devotion to Leah’s every whim.

So much for either one of them coming to Patrick’s rescue.

“Our wedding reception will give you and Patrick a chance to catch up,” Leah said as if she wanted everybody to have what she and Aidan had found in each other.

Not a chance that could ever happen for Patrick and Rachel.

“That’s a lovely idea. Isn’t it, Patrick?” Mom’s supportive pat on his arm transitioned into the dull pressure of a vise.

He turned a questioning gaze on her.

His mother raised her eyebrow, obviously waiting for him to say something.

Standing his ground, he scowled.

Mom’s eyes flared, her default reminder of exactly who he was dealing with.

If they were alone, she would say inviting Rachel was the right thing to do. And that he would do well to listen to his mother. After all, she was the very woman who had carried him for nine and one-half very long months, given his ten-and-a-half-pound body life through extraordinary pain and suffering, and loved him more than life itself.

How many times had she pointed out those facts to her three sons over their growing-up years, varying the numbers accordingly?

Too many times to count.

But she’d always been there for him. Always helped him deal with Dad, picked up the pieces after Rachel, accepted him with open arms even when he didn’t deserve it.

Yep, he and his brothers loved their mother, had learned to respect her early on, and needing to be reminded of that was never a good thing, especially at the age of thirty-one.

So Patrick patted his mother’s arm in silent apology and stoically turned to Rachel with a disdainful expression he could only hope she read louder than his words. “Sure. You should come.”
After helping Uncle Bernie put the supper club to bed in the wee hours of the morning, Rachel quietly rolled out her yoga mat and stretched into warrior pose in her aunt and uncle’s comfortable living room on the shore of Rainbow Lake. She mindfully assessed her alignment and adjusted her body, trying to relieve her stress points.

Lots of tension tonight.

Rachel took a deep breath. Tonight…

Tonight…

Patrick was there. A cramp pinched between her shoulder blades. She adjusted her position. No good.

Aunt Gloria wrote last spring to let Rachel know he’d been seriously wounded in Afghanistan and was recovering… nobody seemed to know where.

But now he was back.

Right here in Noah’s Crossing.

Taller, darker, even more masculine than he’d been at seventeen. And with a deeper voice. He looked thin, as if he may have lost some pounds and muscle he normally carried. But the fourteen years since she’d seen him had chiseled the sweet teenage face she remembered into a distinctively handsome man’s. One who’d seen the world and lived through things she couldn’t imagine, including serious injuries. But neither the pain she saw in his face nor the distrust in his eyes when he looked at her could disguise the kind, caring boy she’d known and loved.

Aunt Gloria thumped her walker across the hardwood floor on her painful knees, one still from arthritis, the other from recent surgery.

“Can I get you anything, Auntie?”

“No. I can’t sleep, so I’m working on my step quota. And my calorie burn. And twenty other goals Dr. Delaney prescribed.” Aunt Gloria determinedly clunked her way toward the kitchen. “Don’t worry. I’m not heading for the peanut butter cookies you hid in the freezer. My taste buds are thinking apple. Of course they are.”

“Smart taste buds.” Rachel transitioned into downward dog, but the pose did little to relieve her tension. Or take her mind off Patrick.

He’d seemed very unhappy to see her.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected after she’d turned down his marriage proposal all those years ago, but it wasn’t this. They’d been so important to each other once. Why, they’d known what the other was thinking back then without using words. The thought that he was still upset with her after so much time…

It made her sad.

She sighed and tried to get her muscles to relax.

They had been only seventeen years old when he’d asked her to marry him. High school graduation night. But becoming an Army wife and following her husband around the world had been Patrick’s dream, not hers.

She’d had too many dreams of her own to just let them die. Dreams about her music and taking it to Nashville.

So somehow, she’d found the strength to let Patrick go, even though she’d been head-over-heels in love with the guy.

It had hurt more than she’d ever imagined, but she’d gotten through it. And some of her dreams for Nashville had come true. Not even close to all of them though. If they had, would she be back in Wisconsin at thirty-one years old, and with no idea what she wanted to do with the rest of her life?

Aunt Gloria thunked her walker from the kitchen to the couch where she dropped herself down. “Busy Friday night, I suppose?”

Translated, Aunt Gloria hated being sidelined with her surgery and missing out on the action, and she wanted to hear who’d been at the supper club tonight.

Rachel launched into a cat stretch series, her mind scanning back to early evening before the rush of people descended on the supper club like locusts and turned everything into an inefficient blur. “Harold and Louise Phillips came for the buffet. They send their best wishes. And they told me Mary is expecting a baby soon?”

“Around Christmas time, I believe.” Aunt Gloria took a bite of her Granny Smith apple, obviously waiting for more news.

Rachel held a stretch and thought a moment. “Mrs. Hendrickson and her nephew stopped in.”

“Karine said he’d be coming to help her get her bed and breakfast ready to list with a realtor.”

“She’s selling the B&B?”

Aunt Gloria nodded sadly. “Karine has been such a good friend and neighbor over the years, we hate to see her leave.”

“I remember you wrote when her husband died several years ago. Where is she going?”

“Maine to live with her nephew and his family. That rambling old house is just too much for her anymore.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that.”

“You loved that place the first time you saw it when you were a little girl.”

Rachel couldn’t help but smile thinking about the big Victorian. “It was so beautiful. I was in awe of the gingerbread trim alone.”

“Karine and her husband have done a lot of upgrades over the years. It really is lovely. Do you think it might be fun to see it inside before she leaves?”

“Do you think she’d have the time? I’m sure she has a lot of work to do.”

“I think she’d love to show it off, especially to you. I’d go along, but it would be too much walking for me.” Aunt Gloria gave her a little smile. “Who knows? Maybe running the B&B will appeal to you?”

Rachel let out a laugh. “I doubt I can afford anything that grand.”

“Well, your Uncle Bernie and I have been talking about investing some of our nest egg, so keep an open mind. Now… who else came for the fish fry tonight?”

Right after Mrs. Hendrickson’s arrival, the surge of six-thirty diners had overwhelmed the wait staff and sent her and Uncle Bernie’s entire team into survival mode. Rachel groaned.

“That busy, huh?”

“You know Friday nights.” Rachel forced a laugh, hoping her aunt wouldn’t guess how crazy the night had been.

But a Friday night without Aunt Gloria running the supper club kitchen was bound to throw everybody off their game. Heaven knew, neither Rachel’s waiting tables for Uncle Bernie in high school nor her vast experience waiting tables in Nashville since had even begun to prepare her to temporarily step into Aunt Gloria’s management role in the club kitchen.

“Well, surely there were more people there that you remember.”

Of course there were, but the only one who stood out was Patrick, the wounded hero returning from battle. Wounded or not, he still commanded everyone’s attention just like he had every time he’d run onto the field as Noah’s Crossing’s champion quarterback.

She’d been so proud to be his girlfriend, not so much because of his football glory as for the easy to approach, friendly, polite boy she’d known. And tonight, tall and brave and determined, he’d walked into the supper club and back into her life.

Something he was clearly not happy about.

“Well?” Aunt Gloria peered at her as if she expected an answer.

“Well?” Rachel repeated, totally at a loss.

“Who else did you see?”

Rachel scanned her tired, overwrought mind.

“Were the Foresters there for Aidan’s rehearsal dinner?” Aunt Gloria asked.

“Yes.”

“Aidan’s wife-to-be is very nice, honey. Her farm isn’t far from here, you know. Now that you’re back, I think you might enjoy getting to know her. Of course, she’s awfully busy keeping books for most of the businesses around the area besides running that animal rescue farm of hers. And of course, after tomorrow, she’ll be adding a husband to take care of too.” Aunt Gloria took another bite of her apple, chewed it thoughtfully, and finally asked the question Rachel was dreading. “Was Patrick there?”

“Yes.” Rachel collapsed on her mat and lay there.

“And?”

If Rachel had had the slightest hope that enough years had gone by for him to forgive her for dumping him, she was pretty sure she could kiss that hope goodbye. “He didn’t seem in a very forgiving frame of mind.”

“Surely he’s not holding a grudge after—how many years? Twelve? Thirteen?”

“Fourteen years, Auntie.”

“That boy completely doted on you.”

“Well, he bit my olive branch in two and spit it back at me.”

“You did hurt him, honey,” Aunt Gloria said gently.

“I know. And I’m really sorry about that. But he still blames me. And he’s leaving Sunday.”

“So soon?” Shaking her head, Aunt Gloria clamped her lips together like she did when she was working out a problem. “I’m sure Patrick will be in Aidan’s wedding tomorrow… probably as his best man. I’m just not up to going to the wedding or the reception, but your Uncle Bernie doesn’t want to go alone. He would love it if you’d go with him.”

Rachel pressed her fingers to her forehead. “You know I would fill in for you if the situation was different, but Patrick doesn’t want me there.”

“That doesn’t sound like Patrick. He was always the ‘more the merrier’ boy, wasn’t he?”

“Well, apparently, he’s no longer that boy. In fact, he’s not a boy at all. And worse, his mother pressured him to tell me to come to the reception.”

“That’s wonderful.”

Rachel scowled. “I’m not going.”

“Of course you’re going. And you’ll wear that beautiful teal dress in your closet. I’ve been dying to see you in that.”

“That teal dress is too glitzy for a country wedding reception, Auntie.”

“You think so? Too many sparkles? Well, the rose one is gorgeous, and I noticed that one still has the price tag on it. Or the purple one is very pretty too. That one will make your beautiful skin just glow, honey.”

Rachel shook her head. “Patrick’s leaving Sunday. And now that I know he still hasn’t forgiven me, I never have to worry about ever running into him again.”

If there was a ray of light, it was that.

“Don’t… be… ridiculous!” Aunt Gloria’s insistent brown eyes widened. “You haven’t spent all these years asking me for news about that young man to let him shut you out with his silly grudge. You need to talk to him.”

“I tried. He doesn’t want to hear what I have to say.”

“Well… tough. If you allow him to hide from you so easily, you’ll never forgive yourself, and you know it.”

Too bad her aunt knew her so well.

Sighing, Rachel began rolling up her yoga mat. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it. I’m going to bed.”

“Good idea. You need to get your beauty sleep so you’ll be at your best tomorrow. And don’t worry about a gift for the newlyweds. Aidan and Leah eat often at the supper club, so I’m sure they would love a gift certificate for a lovely dinner. Or if you’d rather, Sarah has wonderful things at Sarah’s Gifts and Drugs, and she opens by nine on Saturdays.”

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