She pulled him down, and his lips covered hers. “Why don’t you move Davy to his bed?” she whispered. She loved his smile, the warmth of his eyes, his integrity.
“Don’t go away,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here,” she said. “Forever.”
Dear Reader,
I wish Rock Harbor were a real place! But to me it is, and it was so fun to go back in this novel to the glorious Upper Peninsula of God’s Country—Michigan, where the natives show you their hands and point out where they’re from on “the mitten.”
Cry in
the Night
was a true labor of love for my readers who have asked for more in the Rock Harbor series.
My unending love and gratitude goes out to my Thomas Nelson family: publisher Allen Arnold, who asked me to write another Rock Harbor book for you; senior acquisitions editor Ami McConnell, my friend and cheerleader, who has amazing insight into story; editor extraordinaire Natalie Hanemann, who puts up with my numerous requests for help with a smile and a hug; marketing manager Jennifer Deshler, who brings both friendship and fabulous marketing ideas to the table; publicist Katie Schroder, who helps me plan the right strategies and is always willing to listen to my harebrained ideas; fabulous cover guru Mark Ross (you SO rock!), who works hard to create the perfect cover—and does it; fellow Hoosier Lisa Young, who lends a shoulder to cry on when needed; editor Amanda Bostic, who is still my friend even though she doesn’t work on my books anymore; Becky Monds and Jocelyn Bailey, who contribute with more help than I even know. I love you all more than I can say.
My agent, Karen Solem, is my biggest cheerleader, and that includes kicking an idea to the curb when necessary. I wouldn’t be anywhere without her. Thanks, Karen, you’re the best!
Erin Healy is the best freelance editor in the business—bar none. I was so afraid of losing her when I found out she was writing her own stories, but she’s hanging in there with me. Check out the book she’s written with Ted Dekker called
Kiss
. Thanks, Erin! I couldn’t do it without you.
Writing can be a lonely business, but God has blessed me with great writing friends and critique partners. Kristin Billerbeck, Diann Hunt, and Denise Hunter make up the Girls Write Out squad (
www.GirlsWriteOut.blogspot.com
). I couldn’t make it through a day without my peeps! And another one of those is Robin Miller, president of ACFW (
www.acfw.com
), who spots inconsistencies in a suspense plot with an eagle eye. Thanks to all of you for the work you do on my behalf, and for your friendship.
Thanks to my husband, Dave, who carts me around from city to city, washes towels, and chases down dinner without complaint. Thanks, honey! I couldn’t do anything without you. My kids—Dave, Kara, (and now Donna) Coble—and my new grandsons, James and Jorden Packer, love and support me in every way possible. Love you guys! Donna and Dave are bringing a new baby girl into the family, and she will have arrived by the time you read this. I’ve been waiting for Alexa Grace for a long time!
Most importantly, I give my thanks to God, who has opened such amazing doors for me and makes the journey a golden one.
I love to hear from readers! Drop me an e-mail at colleen@ colleencoble.com and check out my Web site at
www.colleen-coble.com
. There’s a forum to chat about books, and I try to stop in, since books are my favorite things in the world. Thank you all for giving up your most precious commodity—
time
—to spend it with me and my stories.
Log on to
colleencoble.com
for a special bonus chapter
plus
an exclusive Q&A with Colleen about the Rock Harbor series.
1. Pia found herself deep into something she regretted. How does someone slide in a wrong direction?
2. Kade was asked to lie on a grant application. Saying no to a boss’s order can be hard. Have you ever been faced with a similar situation? What did you do?
3. Was Kade right to withhold his worries from Bree? Why or why not?
4. Jenna and Quinn both liked things and didn’t care what they had to do to get what they wanted. How do you think people become that self-centered?
5. Lauri’s weakness through the series has been that she doesn’t have good sense about men. Have you ever known someone like that? What do you think drives them to choose the wrong kind of man?
6. Mrs. Bristol didn’t have any interest in helping her daughter raise a grandchild. Was this an attitude you could identify with or not?
7. Scents can be one of the most powerful ways to recall a person or memory. What scent has the ability to take you to another time and place?
8. Have you ever wondered if God hears your prayers? What helps you remember that he does?
9. A few weeks after my beloved grandmother died, I saw a woman in a drugstore who looked so much like her it was scary. I stared and stared, but I knew it couldn’t be her. What would it take to convince you that someone you were sure was dead really lived?
10. Rob took one step in the wrong direction, then another then another. At what point could he have turned back?
11. Kade ultimately made the right decision about his grant application. What do you think gave him the strength to do the right thing?
12. Has there ever been something you asked God for that he didn’t give you and you later realized he couldn’t answer yes to your prayer and someone else’s too?
1
MILES OF EMPTY ROAD STRETCHED AHEAD OF HER. SHANNON ASTOR HAD babied the old Jeep along I-10 west from San Antonio until the traffic ran out. She watched a million stars in the sky through the windshield as the hill country gave way to desert and the sun began to peek above the dark horizon in her rearview mirror. The Big Bend area was only an hour away now. She smelled smoke from the wildfires in southwest Texas and hoped the flames didn’t get any closer.
Shannon glanced in the rearview mirror, and her heart melted with tenderness. Her daughter Kylie slept peacefully in her booster seat, her head resting against the back of the seat. The glimmers of sunrise gilded her pale blond hair. Shannon would do anything for her, even go back to the place she’d sworn never to set foot in again.
She was doing the right thing. She could never get ahead with the cost of living in San Antonio, and facing her demons back in Bluebird Crossing was worth getting her daughter out of the slum apartment. This job was her lifeline to something better for Kylie.
Her cell phone rang and she grabbed it off the seat beside her before
the chimes to “The Last Unicorn” could awaken Kylie. Who would be
calling at six in the morning? Her friend Mary Beth’s name flashed
across the screen. Shannon flipped her phone open. “Mary Beth, what
are you doing up?” Only silence greeted her at first. “Mary Beth?”
“I . . . I shouldn’t have called,” Mary Beth gasped out. Music blared out of a radio in the background.
“What’s wrong?” Shannon struggled to make sense of the sounds flooding into her ear: road noises, music, labored breathing.
“Listen, I don’t have much time. I . . . I’m going to be away for a while.” Mary Beth ended the statement with a sob. here looking at it. She dropped her Jeep back into drive and
Shannon pulled to the side of the interstate and stopped the Jeep. accelerated toward the ranch. “Mary Beth, have you been drinking?” Her friend had been known to “This isn’t it, is it, Mommy?” Kylie looked up from her coloring tie one on every now and then.
The short bark of laughter on the other end of the line sounded all windmill creaked painfully around its axis. “It’s scary.” too sober. “I wish it were that simple.”
Shannon heard the sound of screeching tires and the road noises. Mary Beth’s gasps were louder. “Mary Beth? What’s happening?”
I was trying to help you. I had no idea it would come to this.”
Help me? What are you talking about?”
The phone went dead in Shannon's ear. Was Mary Beth in trouble? Or was Shannon reading too much into the strange call? She tried to call Mary Beth back but was dumped into her voice mail. Shannon punched in Horton's home number. He'd be up having his morning tea by now.
His proper British voice answered on the second ring. “Horton Every bone in her body ached from driving all night, and her nerves here. Shannon, have you broken down already?
Hearing his voice made her long for the safety of her little apartment in San Antonio, even if it was a hole in the wall. “Horton, have you heard from Mary Beth? I think she might be in some kind of trouble.”
“What’s happened?”
Shannon told him about Mary Beth’s call. “Do you think something’s wrong?”
He cleared his throat. “Maybe she had an argument with a boyfriend. Who is she dating right now?”
Shannon rubbed her arm again. “I don’t know. I think probably a married man. That seems to be her normal mode.”
“What can I do to help?”
She glanced at her sleeping daughter. It would do no good to overreact. “Nothing. I’m sure I’ll hear from her soon. If she calls you, let me know.”
“Will do, my dear. Are you sure you don’t want to come back? Your position hasn’t been filled.”
“I can’t let this opportunity slip through my fingers. The clinic will be my own, the pay is good, and Kylie will get a chance to grow up in wide-open spaces.”
“Be careful, my dear. I’ll let you know if I hear anything about Mary Beth.”
“I’m sure everything will be fine,” Shannon said, more to reassure herself. She was beginning to regret she’d called Horton over something so silly. Driving through the night must have set her nerves on edge. “I’ll call when I get to town and see if you’ve heard anything more.” She disconnected the call and drove on into the dawn.
TALL AND IMPOSING, THE OLD HOUSE DOMINATED THE TEXAS LANDSCAPE and loomed over the weathered barn and outbuildings. Chickens still scratched in the thin dirt, and the buildings were even more dilapidated than she remembered. The Chihuahuan Desert wind moaned through the eaves of the old house, and the familiar sound made Shannon realize she was really home. Even though it wasn’t much, it was theirs.
Her work here was cut out for her. At least it was better than the trailer she’d hoped to show the town right off that she was a landowner now, not the quiet kid they’d been only too to ridicule. There was nothing to be gained by sitting here looking at it. She dropped her Jeep back into drive and accelerated the ranch.
“This isn’t it, is it, Mommy?” Kylie looked up from her coloring book and peered over the edge of the door out the window. A dilapidated windmill creaked painfully around its axis. “It’s scary.”
With her uncle gone, it wouldn’t echo with his disapproval any longer. Her work here was cut out for her. At least it was better than the “trailer It just needs she’d some lived work,in for sweetie. so many Uncle years,Earl and lived she’d here fifty years, and I don’t think he painted a board. We’ll get it shipshape in no time. it would maybe take a while. It would be several weeks before she had any sitting money coming in.
She pointed to the side yard. “Look, we have a barn. We’ll get a pony, and you can have a dog. In fact, Moses might still be here.” She whistled “This isn’t it, is it, Mommy?” Kylie looked up from her coloring for the old stock dog. “Here, Moses. Here, boy.” Only the wind answered her. If Moses was still around, maybe he was roaming the desert.
Every bone in her body ached from driving all night, and her nerves were shot after Mary Beth’s mysterious call. She parked the vehicle in front of the hitching post by the porch, then sat listening to the groaning windmill. The sounds had echoed her own pain when her parents died.
“Are we going to get out?” Kylie asked, fidgeting.
“Sure, baby.” Shannon opened her door and moved around to unbuckle her daughter’s car seat.
Kylie hopped out and took her hand. “Do we have to go in? Maybe there’s ghosts.”
“No ghosts. It’s just a little dirty and rundown, but I’ll give it a good cleaning,”were shot Shannon after Mary promised. Beth’s mysterious“Our old apartment call. She wasparked way the worse. vehicle Here in you’ll front of have the hitching your own post room by the and porch, a playroom then sat listening too.” She to took the groaning Kylie’s hand and they stepped past straggly creosote bushes that scented the air. The porch steps sagged as though to swallow them whole. She and her daughter mounted the porch and approached the door. The key in her hand needed to be jiggled in the lock before it would open.
Stale air that stank of mouse droppings rushed to meet them. Kylie wrinkled her nose and pulled back on her mother’s hand. “I don’t want to go in. It smells nasty.”
“I’ll soon have it smelling like Pine-Sol and lemon,” Shannon promised. But after letting her gaze sweep the foyer lit with dim morning light, her courage faltered. She was too exhausted to face the monumental task. They should have stopped for the night so it didn’t seem so overwhelming.
Kylie tugged on Shannon’s hand. “Can I sit out here until it’s better?”
Shannon hesitated. Her gaze swept the barren landscape. There was nothing to see but the unbroken panorama of yucca and prickly pear cactus, the crags and peaks of the hills until the desert met the Chisos Mountains in the distance. She’d once loved this devil’s playground even when it was as hot as his home, but today it felt lonely and dangerous.
She rested her hand on the top of her daughter’s hair, and the contact filled her with determination. “I need your help, honey.” She took her daughter’s hand again and led her into the foyer.
The flowered wallpaper was peeling and faded. A layer of grime dimmed the olive green paint on the woodwork. Shannon sneezed at the odor of decay. She could see their footprints in the dust on the scarred wooden floors. It seemed the moment her uncle died three months ago, the desert stepped through the doors and windows to reclaim the house.
She heard a squeak when they entered the kitchen, and a mouse ran for cover along the counter before disappearing from view.