The Preacher's Daughter

by Lyn Cote

  “About that game yesterday—”

  “I apologize.” Lucie felt herself color warmly. “I didn’t mean to speak so…abruptly. It was an upsetting day—”

  “You were right. I shouldn’t have been sitting inside the church while those kids were playing ball right outside. I want St. Andrew’s to be the kind of church that has an open door to its community. I’d like the parishioners to feel comfortable about dropping in if they need something….”

  She listened, suddenly liking Tanner Bond a whole lot more than she had just minutes before.

  “This is my first pastorate. I’m still trying to get that atmosphere started.”

  It cost Tanner Bond a lot to say that. Lucie wondered what she could do to help this man.

  Books by Lyn Cote

  Love Inspired

  Never Alone #30

  New Man in Town #66

  Hope’s Garden #111

  Finally Home #137

  Finally Found #162

  The Preacher’s Daughter #221

  LYN COTE

  Lyn lives in Iowa with her husband, her real-life hero. They raised a son and daughter together. Lyn has spent her adult life as a schoolteacher, a full-time mom and now a writer. Lyn’s favorite food is watermelon. Realizing that this delicacy is only available one season out of the year, Lyn’s friends keep up a constant flow of “watermelon” gifts—candles, wood carvings, pillows, cloth bags, candy and on and on. Lyn also enjoys crocheting and knitting, watching Wheel of Fortune and doing lunch with friends. She also enjoys hearing from readers. By the way, Lyn’s last name is pronounced “Coty.”

  THE PREACHER’S DAUGHTER

  LYN COTE

  Jesus replied: “Love the Lord your God

  with all your heart and with all your soul and

  with all your mind. This is the first and greatest

  commandment. And the second is like it:

  Love your neighbor as yourself. All the law and

  prophets hang on these two commandments.”

  —Matthew 22:37-40

  To my mother-in-law, Jay, with affection.

  And to my aunty Rose, thanks for everything!

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Letter to Reader

  Chapter One

  Late-May sunshine gilded the weathered wood fence around the farmyard. Lucie Hansen leaned against the railing on the wide front porch of the white-frame farmhouse. She wished she’d had time to linger over coffee this morning. But this wasn’t a pleasure visit to Pleasant Prairie, Iowa.

  Three days ago, her cousin Sophie had called in tears over her husband’s continued hospital stay. So Lucie had promised she’d come as soon as she could pack. At that time, Lucie hadn’t yet taken in just how deep Sophie’s troubles were. Now, three days later, she realized that her cousin’s problems might keep Lucie at the farm longer than she’d expected—or wanted. She felt both sorry for her cousin and guilty over feeling selfish. But she had problems, too!

  Lucie worried her lower lip. I’m almost broke. I’ve got to be looking for a summer job and a full-time job for the fall. Lord, You’re going to have to help me out here.

  Sophie stood near Lucie, holding her baby daughter on her hip. The girl’s dark curls and olive skin matched her pretty mother’s.

  A riff of heavy-metal music blasted from an open second-story window. Ordinarily, the sound wouldn’t have bothered Lucie, fresh from four years in a college dorm. But one glance told her that the raucous sound was upsetting Sophie. And her cousin didn’t need any more upsetting right now.

  Sophie looked so forlorn, Lucie’s mood lowered even further. Should I offer to go along with her to the hospital?

  “Lucie!” one of Sophie’s little boys called to her.

  Sophie’s young sons already hung on to and twisted themselves around the door handles of Lucie’s battered car. The longing in their expressions tugged at Lucie’s heart. The little guys couldn’t wait for Lucie’s promised treat of a trip to the town park, to be followed by Dairy Queen hamburgers, fries and cones.

  Sophie forced a tiny smile. “Don’t worry about me, Lucie.”

  The heavy-metal music overhead zoomed a decibel louder, drowning out Sophie. Exasperated, Lucie looked upward. What was with Zoë, anyway?

  Zoë was Sophie’s teenaged sister-in-law who’d been living with Sophie and her husband since the death of her parents. Yesterday, Lucie had noted the drastic change in the teen from a year ago. Zoë’s lowcut, hip-hugging jeans and exposed navel hadn’t bothered Lucie. The desperate unhappiness in Zoë’s eyes had.

  Shaking her head, Sophie leaned close to Lucie’s ear. “I don’t know what I would have done if you couldn’t have come for the summer.”

  The summer? I came for the summer? Lucie swallowed this with some difficulty. When did I volunteer to stay the whole summer? She hadn’t even guessed that Sophie had assumed she’d stay for the entire summer. I’m broke! I have to find a job!

  Another glance at Sophie’s worry-ravaged face made Lucie postpone mentioning this. Sophie was family and family came first. Lucie would have to figure out some way to both help Sophie and find a job. But how?

  “Lu-cie!” both boys wailed to her in that little-boy please-hurry-up whine.

  “I better get going.” Lucie hustled down the steps and unlocked what she called “the Bomb,” the car that had somehow lasted her through four years of college. “Don’t worry, Sophie!” Lucie shouted over her shoulder. “I’ll come back in time to drive—” she waved her hand upward to the source of the rock music “—Zoë to work!”

  The boys scrambled into the back seat and quickly snapped themselves into their seat belts. Lucie settled herself behind the wheel, turned the key in the ignition and roared down the lane. The roar reminded her, once more, that her father had mentioned she should have her muffler checked. Oh, well!

  “Is our daddy coming home today?” Danny asked over the rumble of her car.

  The unexpected question left Lucie uneasy. Lord, does he want me to tell him everything will be just like it was before? I can’t lie!

  “No, he isn’t,” Mikey said with audible disgust. “Mommy said Daddy won’t come home till he’s all better from the accident.”

  “Oh.” Danny subsided.

  Lucie didn’t wonder that the boys were having difficulty with this situation. Yesterday, visiting their formerly strong and healthy young father in the hospital had shaken her. Out on a county road on his tractor, Nate had nearly died when he’d been hit by a car. It was unbelievable how the irresponsible behavior of one drunk driver could so devastate a man and his entire family.

  Poor kids, poor Sophie! Lord, help me help her. And I mean that!

  Still, as she drove past fields of black dirt, dotted with green shoots of emerging corn, her spirits lifted. She felt the lingering weight of finals and college graduation drifting away—

  A flash of fur. A high yelp.

  Lucie slammed on the brakes.

  “What happened?” the boys yelled.

  She jumped out. “Stay in the car!” Ahead of her, a small bundle of brown-and-white fur lay crumpled on the asphalt road.

  I didn’t have time to stop! Dear God, help! She ran to the little animal and knelt down on the sun-warmed road. The dog was conscious. Know
ing a wounded animal might snap at her, she began murmuring reassurances. She held her hands in front of his snout to let him smell her. The dog sniffed her hands and then whimpered as though asking for help. Gently she stroked his head. He whimpered more and then licked her hand.

  “Poor fella, will you let me help you up?” To gain his trust and to feel for injury or blood, she stroked him soothingly. His heart pounded reassuringly under her palm. When she slid her arms under the dog, he licked her nose. “Okay, fella.” Her own pulse pounding in her temples, she lifted him. “Don’t worry. I’m going to get you right to the vet.”

  The few miles flew past, then she whipped through town, turning heads along Main Street. Tall, gray grain elevators loomed ahead, and beyond them the vet’s office, a squat cement-block building. A navy blue SUV with the vet’s name on its side was parked beside the door. Relief flooded Lucie. The vet’s in!

  Within minutes, Lucie and the white-coated, silver-haired female vet and her assistant hovered over the small dog on the examining table. The anxious boys waited just outside the door on a bench, listening and watching intently.

  Then the examination had been done and the treatment was nearly complete. Even though the dog hadn’t been seriously injured—no internal bleeding or otherwise damaged organs—Lucie’s knees still felt mushy.

  The vet finished applying the last of the plaster cast on the dog’s front leg. She turned to wash up at the large stainless-steel sink. “You said he darted right in front of you? You’re lucky you just clipped him.”

  “Do you recognize him?” Lucie stroked its shaggy terrierlike fur.

  The vet shook her head and lifted the dog into Lucie’s waiting arms. “We don’t have a license or leash law. Farm dogs are supposed to provide protection and help keep the rodent population down. We have strays in town on and off. I think I’ve seen this guy near the mobile home court outside town.”

  Lucie, with Mikey and Danny beside her, followed the vet out to the small linoleumed reception area. Lucie wondered at the barest change in the vet’s tone, a slight inflection that denoted disapproval. What was wrong with the mobile home court?

  “Hi!” Mikey exclaimed, waving to someone at the doorway across from Lucie.

  Lucie glanced over. Just inside the door stood a man with long legs, narrow hips, broad shoulders and…the face of an angel.

  A very masculine one with chestnut hair curling around his ears. Dark brows that looked like they had been sculpted by an artist. The planes of his cheekbones—perfection. And an endearing cleft in his chin. Mmm.

  Cold reality intruded, dropping through Lucie like an ice cube. She was probably ogling—improperly—someone’s husband. He must be married. No man that good-looking would remain single over the age of twenty-one. Particularly in a small town like this. And he didn’t look like a farmer, either. Was he a schoolteacher or principal?

  Then she realized that she had “floated” up to him. What’s the matter with me? I’m not fifteen and boy crazy! Good grief! He’ll think I’m nuts! She backed away, stumbled and thumped down onto a bench along the wall in the waiting area.

  The stranger gazed down at her as though studying a slide under a microscope.

  Noting he didn’t wear a wedding band, she took a deep, calming breath.

  “Hi, Preacher!” Mikey called out. “What’s wrong with your dog?”

  The preacher? The preacher! Good grief—they let men this handsome graduate from seminary now? His clerical collar should have been a dead giveaway. How did I miss that? The man held a teacup-size Chihuahua. The disparity between the man and his tiny pet hit her funny bone. What a hoot. “That’s your dog?”

  “Yes, this is my dog, Sancho.”

  His deep voice sent shivers through her.

  “Hey!” Mikey, the chatterbox, interrupted, pointing to the dog Lucie held, “This is our cousin Lucie and she hit that dog with the Bomb!”

  “Bomb?” he asked, again looking at her, she thought, as he would an amoeba under a slide.

  “I lovingly call my car ‘the Bomb,”’ she snapped, not liking the way he was examining her. “The dog ran out in front of me. I didn’t have time to stop.”

  “I see. Very unfortunate.”

  “You’ve brought Sancho in for his flea bath?” the vet interrupted. “Lucie Hansen, this is Tanner Bond, the pastor at St. Andrew’s Church.”

  Lucie offered her hand, thinking that she’d have time to adjust to this man before she attended St. Andrew’s with Sophie on Sunday morning.

  He shook her hand firmly and then handed his dog over to the vet.

  Ignoring the touch of his hand, she looked down at the little dog in her lap and crooned to it. Making herself relax against the rough cement-block wall behind her, she stretched her legs out in front of her. She’d have to get a grip. In this little town, she’d be seeing this man often. She couldn’t fall apart like this every time!

  Fortunately for her, men didn’t always pick up on body language like women did and from Tanner Bond’s comments, she didn’t think he was more astute about this than the average male. So if she continued cool, calm and collected from now on, he’d never know. Know what? That at their first meeting, he’d turned her already-wobbly knees to jelly?

  “So, how badly injured is the dog?” Tanner asked in a kind voice.

  “He’s going to be fine,” the vet answered, handing Sancho to her assistant, who carried it away.

  “We just need to find his owner,” Lucie put in, wrinkling her brow. She hoped the owner would be understanding. Regret tasted bitter on her tongue.

  “I told Lucie that I thought the pooch was from the mobile home court,” the vet added.

  Again, that hint of disapproval was in the vet’s tone. What am I missing?

  Lucie rose and walked to the counter. “I’d like to drive through there and see if someone claims him. Could you give me directions?” She looked around for a place to put the dog down. When Lucie moved to set the dog on the counter, the vet shook her head. Finally, Lucie turned and plopped the dog into Tanner’s arms.

  Ignoring his startled expression, she wrote out a check for the vet, subtracting it from her already-low bank balance. Lord, I need a job. Boy, do I need a job! Maybe You could arrange something part-time around here?

  “I’ll go with you to the mobile home court,” Tanner offered. “It’s just a little out of my way.”

  Lucie glanced at him. The concern in his eyes could be nothing but genuine. He was a dog lover. “Great. Thanks.” She couldn’t help but be grateful to have him along when she had to explain the accident to the dog’s owner.

  She turned to the vet. “How long will this cast have to stay on?”

  “Four to six weeks.”

  A lead sinker dropped through Lucie’s stomach. What if she didn’t find the dog’s owner? She couldn’t afford to keep a dog. But maybe she’d be at Sophie’s until fall, anyway. Oh, fudge!

  The vet put the check into a drawer. “If he starts worrying the cast, let me know and we’ll rig him up with a collar.”

  This brought a memory to mind. In spite of her gloom, Lucie almost grinned.

  “You find that amusing?” the preacher at her elbow asked.

  Lucie shook her head at herself. “Sorry. My sister’s cat had to wear one of those collars to keep it from biting and working off a bandage, and the thing looked like a satellite dish around his neck. My brother-in-law called the cat ‘Satellite Head’ the whole time.” And it had driven her sister nuts. That had been funny.

  Looking at her as if she were a few bricks shy of a load, Tanner handed her back the dog. “I see.”

  His expression piqued her. Lighten up, Bond. Lucie stroked the dog’s brown-and-white fur soothingly. The little dog licked her hand again. You’re a sweetie, fella. Hope your owner appreciates you. “Okay.” She let out a deep breath and glanced down at Danny and Mikey. “Let’s head for that mobile home court.”

  “Fine. I’ll show you the way.” Tanner motioned
for her to precede him out the exit. Mikey and Danny brought up the rear.

  Lucy drove behind Tanner’s small gray sedan out onto the two-lane highway. In the back seat, Mikey held the dog on his lap. Tanner led them to a mobile home court, named Shangri-La Estates. What a name for a mobile home court in Iowa!

  But all was not well in Shangri-La. On the court’s sign, someone had spray-painted a neon orange message: “Go Home Me—” The last word was nearly undecipherable because the graffiti had been smeared with black paint. Graffiti in Pleasant Prairie? That was weird.

  The aging trailers in Shangri-La didn’t resemble the shiny new double-wides she saw advertised on TV. Judging from the height of the trees, the court had been here for over twenty years. The shabby office had a Closed sign in its window, so Lucie drove on.

  Along the narrow lanes that meandered through the court, most of the mobile homes had dusky Spanish-looking children playing outside. That surprised her, too, though she recalled Sophie saying something about Mexican-Americans moving into town. Had the obscured word on the sign been Mexicans—as in Go Home Mexicans?

  Ignoring a feeling of foreboding, Lucie parked. Children gathered around her car. Getting out, she carried the groggy dog and approached the nearest trailer that looked and sounded as though someone were home. The nearby children fell silent but trailed behind her. Peering out of the car, Mikey and Danny stared at the other children as if they’d just dropped from the sky. Tanner got out of his car but stayed beside it, watching her. He nodded his encouragement.

  His presence heartened Lucie. She marched up the metal steps and knocked on the door. She tried to ignore the quivering in her stomach. When a silver-haired woman opened the door, Latin music poured forth.