Georgia Sweethearts. Missy Tippens

bleachers. Frozen dinners alone. His dad coming home and shutting himself in his home office.

      He glanced at his watch. “Oh, look. I’ve almost passed the hour lunch I promised.”

      She’d turned the tables on him. But he never shared his past with anyone. Daniel had never been able to fill the void after his mother’s death, or to pull Blake out of his grief. To share that would be too painful. Especially now. A pastor needed to look capable and inspire confidence if he hoped to help others, to make a difference.

      Lilly gave him a look that said she knew he was avoiding the topic.

      He simply flagged down the waitress and paid the bill.

      As they walked out of Frank’s, cold air slapped him in the face. His cell phone vibrated. Normally, he’d ignore it, but the screen showed the caller was Cricket’s mother. “Excuse me a second. I need to take this.”

      On the other end of the line, the woman sobbed uncontrollably. Sick dread slammed him in the gut. “Mrs. Quincy, what’s wrong?”

      “Cricket took a bunch of pills. We’re at the emergency room in Appleton.”

      “Is she going to be okay?”

      “They’ve given her an antidote that’s been pretty successful in similar cases. We have to wait. And pray. Please get Miss Ann to start the prayer chain.”

      “I will. I’m on my way.” Lord, protect Cricket and the baby. Please let this treatment work.

      Lilly stood beside him, her arms hugged around her waist. “What happened?”

      “I need to head to the hospital. A teenage girl from the church is in the ER.”

      “Do you need a ride?” she asked without any hesitation. A woman who saw a need and jumped in with a solution.

      He started to decline, but the offer would save time since he’d walked to town that morning. “Thanks.”

      They rushed to the car. Lilly backed out of the parking spot, and they sped toward Appleton. He called his grandmother and filled her in, asking her to get the town praying.

      “The situation sounds awful. Anything I can do to help?” Lilly asked.

      “Nothing. Unless you feel led to pray.”

      Sick at heart, he stared out the window as they zipped past The Yarn Barn. Surely he could’ve done more. Could have done something besides set up another meeting for next week. Maybe if he’d called her that morning like he’d meant to...

      Except for his brief directions to the hospital, they drove the next ten minutes in silence.

      “I hope she’ll be okay,” Lilly said.

      The hospital came into sight. He pointed her toward the emergency entrance. “She’s fifteen and pregnant. And I failed her.”

      “I don’t know the whole situation.” She reached out and touched his sleeve. “But I know you care. I’m sure that helps. More than you probably realize.”

      As the car came to a stop out front, their eyes locked, her compassionate gaze soothing him, making him wish for... But at the moment, he had no time for wishing.

      He gave her hand a squeeze, a thank-you for understanding him, and then climbed out.

      “Wait. Here’s my phone number.” She jotted it on a piece of scrap paper out of her purse. “Call me when you’re ready to leave. Any time, even if it’s late.”

      Touched by her offer, he took the paper. “Thanks for bringing me.”

      “I’m sure you’ll be a comfort to the girl’s family.”

      He shut the door and hurried through the ER entrance. A comfort? How much good was he as a pastor if he hadn’t been able to help Cricket see God was big enough to handle her problems, that God had a plan for her life?

      Mrs. Quincy paced the floor, a tissue wadded up between her hands, her face streaked with tears. Her pain enough to bring him to his knees, he repeated the prayer circulating in his head. Lord, don’t let Cricket die. Protect her baby.

      He steeled his spine and crossed the waiting room, determined to do more for the hurting teenagers. The kids God had led him to in Corinthia and the neighboring Appleton community had many problems—family struggles, run-ins with the law, failure in school. And Cricket wasn’t the only pregnant high schooler.

      He couldn’t let them down.

      The problem was, he was good at starting churches, good at preaching, good at planning outreach ministries. But apparently, when it came to helping the hurting, he fell short.

      The pain on Lilly’s face whenever she mentioned her childhood etched itself into his brain.

      He had to steer clear of beautiful, thoughtful Lilly. Or he would let her down, as well.