Homecoming at Hickory Ridge. Dana Corbit

don’t say that. I deserved worse for all I put them through. Even as a teenager, there wasn’t a party anywhere in Bloomfield Hills that I wasn’t smack in the center of. Partying, girls, joy rides in borrowed cars—you name it.

      “Mom and Dad bailed me out each time, hoping it was only a phase. And I promised every time I would do better. After the last arrest, I guess I wore out my last second chance.”

      “They gave up on you?”

      “Wouldn’t you have?” He moved his paper coffee cup back and forth between his hands.

      She mulled over it for a few seconds, but she had to admit the truth. “Probably.”

      “Mom still wrote to me every week, but she told me she and Dad couldn’t bear to see me behind the glass.”

      Julia sipped down the last of her coffee that had long since gone cold. It broke her heart to think his parents weren’t on his side, either. “Are you afraid you’ll never earn their respect again?”

      “I don’t know—”

      “You’ll do it. Don’t worry.”

      At first he looked surprised by what she said, and then his gaze narrowed. “I have a lot to prove. To a lot of people. It’s something I have to do alone.”

      Before she had a chance to answer, an announcement came over the loudspeaker saying the coffee shop was about to close. Julia glanced around, surprised to see that the other stragglers had left, leaving only them and a few staff members who looked anxious to get home.

      Tossing their empty cups in a trash can, Kyle and Julia stepped out into the main part of the shopping center and started down the stairs toward the parking lot behind the building. After all the details of their lives they’d shared tonight, a strange silence settled between them. Was Kyle sorry he’d opened up to her?

      After an awkward goodbye, they both climbed in their cars and pulled out of the lot. As Julia drove through the deserted streets toward her house, Kyle’s words filtered through her thoughts again. Yes, he did have something to prove, and from what she could tell, it would be a challenging job.

      But he’d also said that proving himself was something he needed to do alone. And he could do it without help from anyone else. She could see that now. He seemed to have an inner strength she hadn’t recognized in him at first.

      Yes, he could face this challenge alone just the way he’d been in his prison cell, but there was no reason he had to be. Alone, that is. He could take a friend along for the ride, and she was volunteering to embark on the journey. She could even help him repair the broken relationships with his family, too, if he only gave her the chance.

      Kyle settled back on the well-worn plaid sofa and closed his eyes. Only that dated piece of furniture, a tiny television, a mismatched card table set and a mattress and box spring—all appreciated gifts from anonymous Hickory Ridge church members—filled his downtown studio apartment, and yet it still managed to look cramped.

      “Bigger than a prison cell,” he mumbled, reminding himself to be grateful.

      He wouldn’t have this tiny space and a door that opened at his will if he hadn’t received probation, and more than that, he wouldn’t have had a chance to close down the coffee shop with Julia Sims tonight. He should have been thrilled on both of those counts, particularly the part about sharing the evening with a beautiful woman. Yet a seed of discontent had been growing inside him from the moment they’d walked out of the coffee shop and he’d climbed inside his junker of a used car to drive to his apartment. He couldn’t explain it. They’d had a nice time together, even if he’d recklessly shared more with her than he’d told any of his fellow inmates in thirty-six months at Lapeer.

      He should have known better, but something about Julia made him want to trust her in a way he hadn’t trusted anyone in a long time. Maybe it was the fact that her life wasn’t as picture-perfect as he’d first assumed. She’d had more than her share of pain, and yet Julia was still content with her life, even grateful for God’s blessings in it. If only he’d learned years ago to be content and appreciative.

      But more than his respect for her, Julia’s confidence in him appealed to him more than it should have. She seemed confident he would be able to earn his family’s respect. How could she be so certain when he was anything but?

      If he had any sense at all, he would keep a careful distance from her. Not only had he filleted himself and spilled his guts like a guy who enjoyed sharing, he’d almost taken a greater risk and told her the whole story about his arrest and conviction. What had he expected? That she would believe his side of the story? No one else had. And what difference would it make if she did believe him?

      Yes, he should be wary of Julia Sims. She was one of those people who needed to “fix” other people, and she’d made him her current project. Though her need didn’t offend him anymore because he understood that it came from her own scars, he still had to be cautious.

      Frustration filling him, Kyle planted his feet on the floor and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs and his head in his hands. Why did he insist on lying to himself? His ennui didn’t deal with any of his excuses, though they all contributed to it. Something else entirely had climbed under his skin and refused to budge.

      While they were sharing coffee and their sad stories, just for a moment he’d been tempted to see more than was really there between them. He’d thought that another time, another place, if he were someone else entirely, he might have had a chance with Julia Sims.

      Chapter Four

      Kyle closed his office door and started downstairs to the main level on a Friday afternoon more than a week later. This part of the church wasn’t newer construction like the vestibule and the sanctuary, but it had its own charm. The two-story section was part of the stately home that once housed all of the church’s programs.

      He liked the statement that the structure made: it showed a commitment to the church’s roots even as the congregation grew. He’d found a lot of things to like about Hickory Ridge in his first week of working there, though, admittedly, he hadn’t made much progress on the development of the prison ministry. Reverend Bob had assured him they were still working out some final details for joint funding of the ecumenical ministry.

      Since waiting wasn’t one of his more developed skills, he itched to make some progress. The sooner the program was well established, the sooner he could leave it to more capable hands.

      Today would be another day of negative progress toward that goal. He knew that. And it should have frustrated him more than it did, but he didn’t bother kidding himself that he minded. She would be there. Okay, he didn’t know for sure, but she might.

      He hadn’t seen Julia at all since Sunday services, and even then they hadn’t had time to talk when he’d sneaked in late and slipped out right after the benediction to avoid another confrontation with Trooper Lancaster. He’d avoided Wednesday prayer meeting for the same reason, though he’d wondered if she might have been there.

      So today when Reverend Bob had assigned him to work on the same committee Julia had mentioned before, he’d looked forward to it more than he had any business doing. Even lecturing himself about it hadn’t stopped the anticipation he felt as he entered the main office.

      “Hey, Kyle.” Hannah waved from behind the counter. “Need something?”

      “Just the paperwork for the Search and Invitation committee.”

      “Oh, you’ll be working with that? Julia took a lot of it home, but there are a few files in the storage room.”

      Hannah indicated with a tilt of her head a doorway behind her, the smallest smirk on her lips. Kyle moved around the counter and headed in the direction she’d indicated.

      He couldn’t help being disappointed that the room was empty. Just as well, he decided. At least he could focus on this new assignment and not on Julia. On a long folding