Lakeside Redemption. Lisa Jordan

a convicted felon.

      A shout sounded from behind the cottage. Zoe led Harper to the fenced-in backyard overlooking the lake.

      Gray smoke plumed from the grill on the edge of the patio while the scent of barbecue drifted with the afternoon breeze. A picnic table had been covered with a blue gingham tablecloth while a canning jar filled with wildflowers anchored it down.

      The one who attracted her attention was the nine-year-old boy dressed in an Iron Man T-shirt and black basketball shorts, with scruffy golden-brown hair that looked like it needed to be cut and green eyes with gold flecks like her own.

      Her son, Griffin—the only decent thing she’d ever done in her life.

      But she’d failed him, too.

      Mom, Agnes and Griffin stood off to the side while Ian hefted a horseshoe in his hand, then pitched it. Metal clanked against metal as the shoe rung around the stake. He leaned back and let out a shout of joy, then high-fived Dad.

      Dad walked to the opposite stake and gathered their horseshoes, then stepped off to the side while Mom, Agnes and Griffin lined up to throw their shoes.

      Why did she always feel like an unwanted guest at her own family dinners?

      Probably because she hadn’t felt like a family member in such a long time. Sometimes the James family expectations had her retreating inside her shell, wanting to be more of a guest than an actual participant. That way, her parents’ disappointment in her actions wouldn’t hurt so much.

      Dad glanced up and saw Zoe standing by the gate. He nodded at her, then whispered in Mom’s ear. Mom turned and smiled, then beckoned her into the fence. “Zoe, come join us.”

      Spying her, Griffin raced for the gate. He flung it open and hurled himself against her waist. “Mom! You made it.”

      Zoe wrapped her arms around him. “Of course. How could I resist Aunt Agnes’s barbecue and dinner with my favorite guy?”

      Griffin released her and smiled wide, showing a small gap between his top front teeth. He was growing too quickly, and she was missing most of it.

      “So I come in second after the barbecue?”

      “Priorities, dude. Priorities.” She ruffled his hair and made a mental note to call for an appointment to get it chopped before school started next week.

      “Yeah, whatever. Wanna throw some shoes with us? You can be on Grandpa’s team.”

      Dad would love that.

      Harper barked and circled around Griffin’s legs. He dropped to the ground and buried his face in the dog’s black coat. “Hey, girl.”

      He released Harper’s harness to allow her to run in the yard and handed it to Zoe. She wrapped the leash and harness and dropped them in the bag that held Harper’s food and dishes. She followed Griffin back to the horseshoe pit.

      She hugged Mom and Agnes, then waved to Dad and Ian.

      “How was work, honey?” Mom slid an arm around her waist.

      “Good, Mom. Thanks.”

      Agnes glanced at her watch, then handed her horseshoes to Zoe. “Throw for me. I need to get dinner on the table. I hope y’all are hungry. We have ribs and all the fixin’s.”

      “Sounds great.”

      Dad stood behind Griffin and covered his grandson’s small hand with his larger one. Together they swung their arms a couple of times to gauge the rhythm of the motion. Then Dad stepped back and nodded to Griffin.

      Griff scrunched up his eyebrows and bit the corner of his lip as he stepped forward and focused on the opposite stake. He swung his arm back, then pitched the horseshoe.

      It clanked around the iron stake, then thumped to the ground.

      Griffin thrust both fists in the air. “Yeah!” He turned to her. “Did you see that, Mom? I did it.”

      “You sure did, but then I had no doubt you could do it.”

      Dad gathered the horseshoes, then ambled over to Griffin. “Way to go, bubba. You scored the winning point.”

      “Yes!” He punched the air over his head a few more times to celebrate his victory.

      A whistle pierced the air. Agnes stood on the patio and waved everyone toward her. “Time to eat. Let’s wash up, y’all.”

      Griffin jumped to his feet and patted his thigh. “Let’s go, Harper.”

      Harper barked in agreement, then raced Griffin to the house.

      Once everyone had washed up, they formed a circle on the patio and grabbed hands for prayer. Zoe found herself between Griffin and Dad. As she held on to her son’s hand, which was almost as big as her own, she placed hers in Dad’s.

      His warm, calloused fingers closed around hers. For a moment, she pretended all was right in the world, and she was Daddy’s little girl once again.

      How many times had he reached out a hand to help her when she had fallen? How many times had he caressed her hair with those hands? How many times had he taught her how to do something, like he did with Griffin?

      She missed his terms of endearment, the closeness they once shared. When she was released from prison, Dad claimed to have forgiven her—he’d even worked hard to help Mom and Ian get Agape House opened when a series of setbacks had threatened it. But did he truly forgive her—in his heart where it mattered most?

      She’d hurt him deeply, and it would take time for those wounds to heal. She couldn’t erase the past, but she’d do her best not to repeat it. She’d earn back his pride and prove that she was worthy of loving.

      And maybe that started with accepting Sully’s offer to help his daughters learn how to manage their new dog.

      As soon as Ian concluded the prayer, Dad gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then released it.

      “Wake up, Mom.” Griffin jerked on her arm, pulling her from her thoughts.

      “Sorry, honey. Just deep in thought.”

      “Yeah, I saw. How about getting deep in those ribs on the table?”

      “Sounds good to me. Lead the way.”

      She followed Griffin and sat at the opposite end of the picnic table from Dad. She glanced down the table to find him watching her, but the moment she caught his eye, he looked away. Folding her hands in her lap, she stared at the pattern on the tablecloth.

      Nudging her, Ian handed her a paper plate. “You okay?”

      She looked at him and smiled. “Yes, fine.”

      He passed a platter piled with steaming, golden ears of corn. She grabbed the tongs and dropped an ear on her plate, then passed it across the table to Mom.

      At her feet, Harper stirred. Her eyes perked as tires crunched in the front driveway. She barked and trotted for the front of the house.

      “Expecting someone to join us, Ian?” Mom asked from across the table.

      “Nope. Everyone’s here.” Ian stood and moved away from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

      He followed Harper around the side of the house. Zoe buttered her corn and was about to take bite when Ian returned to the backyard.

      But he wasn’t alone.

      A police officer carrying a manila envelope followed him.

      Dad shot a glance at her and frowned.

      Zoe heaved a sigh and shook her head. Of course, if the police were involved, it had to have something to do with her. She dropped her corn on her plate and folded her arms on the table.

      Ian’s lips thinned as he approached the picnic table. He exchanged glances with Agnes.

      Agnes