“I’m sorry about earlier,” Hannah said. “I shouldn’t have run away.”
“Interesting turn of phrase,” Jeff replied.
“A trait I’m trying to change.” Tonight, a part of her longed to embrace change.
“Let’s eat.” He drew her chair out, a gentlemanly gesture, then sat in the chair opposite her.
Hannah flushed. “You could have sat over here.” She indicated the chair to her right.
He smiled. “If you’d prefer …”
“Not what I meant and you know it.”
The smile deepened. “I’m good here for the moment. The extra space gives me a buffer zone.”
This time Hannah smiled. His teasing look was tinged with a hint of compassion, just enough to help calm the encroaching waves within.
She wanted new memories. New chances. New beginnings. Isn’t that why she’d come to Jamison in the first place?
You came here to hide. Nothing more, nothing less.
Then she wanted to stop hiding.
Dear Reader,
My son-in-law did a youth ministry stint in Littleton, Colorado. A local host family took him to see Columbine High School, the scene of a heinous attack. Jon’s guide told him “Most of the teachers that were here have gone.” That single sentence sent my brain spinning.
Where did they go? What shadows followed them? How do you deal with a conscienceless act that happens on your watch?
And so began Mended Hearts, the story of a survivor who regains her hold on normalcy and the man who reminds her of her past. It’s a story of redemptive strength, of gathering scattered pieces and realizing Humpty Dumpty can be fixed. It just takes faith, hope, love and time.
Our family has four wonderful high school teachers. I worked for nine years in a segregated classroom with angry middle school kids. Many bore little conscience. My poverty-stricken youth taught me that good teachers do make a difference. Their impact resounds long after that last bell rings. And true teachers are born to teach, intrinsic to their heart and soul.
I hope you love this story of regaining strength and mustering faith, of bold steps forward in the sweet setting of Allegany County, NY, one of God’s prettiest places. I love to hear from readers. Your words bless me. Visit me and “the guys” online at www.menofalleganycounty.com or come play with me at “Ruthy’s Place,” www.ruthysplace.com, where I shamelessly exploit cute kids, pets and recipes because it’s, well … fun. You can email me at [email protected] or snail mail me c/o Love Inspired Books, Harlequin Enterprises, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.
God bless you and keep you!
Ruthy
Mended Hearts
Ruth Logan Herne
Dedication
This book is dedicated to Melissa Endlich, whose patience and rolling pin have proven necessary on more than one occasion. Your continued confidence blesses me abundantly.
And to Amanda, Seth, Lacey and Karen, four wonderful high school teachers who’ve worked the front lines of adolescent development. God bless you guys!
Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him; do not fret when men succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes. Refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret—it leads only to evil. For evil men will be cut off, but those who hope in the Lord will inherit the land.
—Psalms 37:7–9
Acknowledgments
Wonderful teachers are never forgotten. Special thanks to Mrs. Fenlon (now Mrs. Steiner), Sr. Mary Cordis, Sr. Mariel (deceased), Sr. Natalia, Mrs. Bagley and Thomas Dowd. I’m grateful for your encouragement and kindness. And to Alice McCarthy, my Girl Scout leader, who became a stand-in at every parental function. Alice, thank you for treating an abnormal situation with sweet normalcy. God blessed you with a generous heart and I thank you for the times you sat with me, accompanied me and covered my “dues.” There’s a special place in heaven for people like you.
Special thanks to Mandy for traipsing the hills of Allegany with me, taking the time to meet perfect strangers with a smile and a handshake. Weren’t those sheriffs adorable???
To Beth and Jon for their constant help in so many ways. To Matt and Karen and Seth and Lacey for their continued support and help. And to Zach and Luke who advise from afar and take the couch so I can have the bed when I visit them. You guys rock.
To the Seekers, www.seekerville.blogspot.com. Your light shines for so many. I’m blessed to have you in my life. Audra, thanks for the read. You rock. Andrea, for the steady belief for so many years.
And especially to Dave for his continued love and support. He makes a mean tuna fish sandwich! Love you, Dude.
Prologue
Jeff Brennan stood slowly, facing his illegitimate half brother, their gazes locked, a silent war of wills waging in their squared-off stature. Nice to see that twenty years of separation had changed absolutely nothing. “What do you want, Matt? What are you doing here?”
Matt Cavanaugh didn’t match Jeff’s caustic tone, but then he’d always had a way of wriggling out of things right up until he nearly cost Katie Bascomb her life. He did cost her a leg, but guys like Matt didn’t worry about things like consequences. Ever.
Matt leveled a firm look at Jeff, not cringing. Not asking forgiveness. Not apologizing for all he’d put the family through two decades back. Which meant he might need to be punched. And with the current demands and conditions of Jeff’s job as the chief design engineer for Walker Electronics, his business partner Trent Michaels called away for life-threatening family illness and the in-house rush to nail down a mobile surveillance system designed to keep an eye on threatened American borders, Jeff was ready to duke it out with just about anyone.
Throw in the matching funds library project his grandmother and CEO threw at him an hour ago, and Matt had no idea how close he was to risking his life.
Jeff swallowed a growl, glanced down, then up. The look in Matt’s eyes said he might just be getting it, but on an already bad day, the last thing Jeff wanted or needed was the long-awaited showdown with his lawbreaking half brother. “I said, what do you want?”
Matt raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m in town to scout out some possible work. I’m a housing contractor now, and I didn’t want to blindside you or anyone else in the family by running into you in the street.”
“You’ve grown a conscience?” Jeff’s hands tightened. His skin prickled. The hairs on the nape of his neck rose in quiet protest. “Since when?”
Matt didn’t answer the question. “I’ve come to make amends, Jeff.”
“Too little, too late.”
A tiny muscle in Matt’s jaw tightened. “You could be right. I hope you’re wrong. But I wanted to come here and see you face-to-face. Pave the way.”
“So you’re in town looking for work.” Jeff mused over the words, wishing Matt wasn’t so calm while he felt ready to jump the desk and settle old wrongs. “Or you’re here because Walker Electronics is doing better and you want a piece of the pie.”
Matt swiped