Heaven's Kiss. Lois Richer

      “If no one objects, I suggest the part of Inspector Merrihew be assigned to Dr. Luc. What do you think?”

      Heads nodded in agreement all around the room.

      Big Ed’s beefy fist shot up as he began to speak, his excitement obvious. “The boy’s perfect for that part. No denying that. Has that accent down pat. I never could get the hang of that.”

      Dani nodded, delighted with the cowboy’s easy acceptance of Luc.

      “Great. It’s unanimous. Now, Inspector, do you want to try the part on stage?”

      “I—I guess.”

      But he didn’t, she could see that in the hunted look in his eyes. Try, she begged silently. Just try.

      “‘Gertrude Mortimer baked the best chocolate cake anyone had ever tasted.’ Now you say it.”

      He stood at center stage, stared at her. Dani repeated the phrase.

      “Gertrude Chocolate mortimered anyone…” He stopped, gulped.

      The others chuckled in sympathy.

      “You’ll get it. Just keep trying,” the crowd encouraged.

      But Luc didn’t get it. Half an hour later Dani dismissed the rest of the cast and watched them scurry away, undoubtedly grateful they didn’t have to endure any more of his line-mangling.

      “It was distracting with the others here,” she excused as the door banged shut for the tenth time. “Way too noisy. We’ll practice one-on-one. Don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s try it down here.”

      “You can’t say I didn’t warn you.” He sighed, took the stairs two at a time and flopped down beside her. This time the words emerged perfectly. But as soon as they returned to the stage to practice their movements with the lines, he tightened up, forgot what he was doing.

      By ten-thirty Dani was ready to phone Big Ed and beg him to take over. Unfortunately Winifred Blessing didn’t know the meaning of the word defeat.

      “Tiredness, that’s all it is. Simply too weary. Everyone’s had a long, busy day. So many things to do.” She cluck-clucked her sympathy, patting Luc’s shoulder as if he were four. “Try again when you’re fresh, dear. You too, Dani.”

      Dani hadn’t felt fresh since the day she’d found out her father had left the ranch submerged in debt. But she scrounged for a bit of cheerfulness.

      “This is Thursday,” she murmured, trying to remember what she’d planned for the weekend. “I’ve got some stuff to do Saturday morning, but maybe you could come out to the ranch in the afternoon. Around one? I could coach you then.”

      “Why prolong the inevitable? I’m lousy at this.” Luc shrugged at her glower. “Oh, all right, fine. Saturday afternoon. I’ll be there, barring a medical emergency. But this is a waste of time. I’m not an actor, I’m a doctor. And no matter how badly you want to, you can’t change me.”

      Thus released, he walked quickly up the aisle and left the building.

      Dani waited until she heard the outer door squeak closed. Then she turned to Miss Winifred.

      “Are you sure—”

      Winifred patted her shoulder, her face beaming. “The Lord works in mysterious ways, Dani. But He does perform His wonders. Just you give Him a chance.”

      Which was all well and fine, Dani decided as she pulled into her yard half an hour later. But they had only four months, and Dr. Lucas Lawrence hadn’t memorized three paragraphs in three hours. She climbed out, reached in for her jacket and blinked. A little white bakery box with that familiar red script was nestled on her back seat.

      “‘Blessing Bakery,”’ she read aloud, stomach rumbling at the thought of delicacies she’d often seen tucked inside boxes like these. “‘Made with love.”’ She lifted the lid to peek inside. “What have you done now, Miss Winifred?”

      One of Miss Blessing’s heart-shaped love cookies lay inside. The cookies were famous, appearing in unexpected spots all over the county, but Dani had never before received one personally. She held the box under the truck’s interior light, curious about the message she knew would be piped across the cookie in vivid red icing.

      Faith isn’t faith until it’s all you’re holding on to.

      As usual, Miss Winifred’s cookie stated the problem with a piercing succinctness that made Dani wince.

      “I’m trying to have faith, Lord,” she whispered, lifting the cookie out and nibbling off one corner as she stared at the blanket of stars winking overhead. “But tonight didn’t help. Ranch problems are bad enough. What am I going to do with an actor who freezes up the minute he gets on stage?”

      The night breeze swirled off the snow-capped mountains and down around her, a chilling reminder that winter might not be finished yet. Loath to leave this panorama of beauty before her for the silence of her empty home, Dani remained a moment longer, considered nights past when she’d felt as if she nestled in the Father’s hand.

      Heaven’s kiss, her dad had called it. A feeling that God leaned down and brushed your cheek with His lips, that He was in charge and everything would be fine. It had been so long since she’d felt that tender care.

      “Everyone’s gone home to their families. Dad’s with You. But I’m out here all alone, God.” The words, whispered on the night air, carried back to her in painful repetition.

      Alone. Alone. Alone.

      Dani waited for that featherlight caress of peace to flow through her weary heart. But only the nip of frosty air brushed over her cheeks.

      Evidently heaven wasn’t in a kissing mood tonight.

       Chapter Two

       O n Saturday, just after lunch, Dr. Lucas Lawrence steered his car around an assortment of potholes that littered the road to the Double D ranch and wondered why anyone willingly chose to live out here.

      Just as quickly he chided himself for the criticism.

      “Okay, it’s beautiful,” he admitted, gazing at the quilt-block pattern that the variegated greens made across the landscape. “Creation in all its glory.” He winced at the bounce from the right front wheel. “But it’s miles from civilization and a death trap to drive over!”

      A sudden thought made him chuckle.

      “If Winifred Blessing were here, she’d call me a wimp.” He deliberately pressed down the accelerator. One bone-jarring thump later, he yelped and immediately lifted his foot.

      “I probably am a wimp.” He admitted it with a sigh and eased his aching behind more firmly into the padded seat, his attention fixed on the road.

      “Now what?” Just on the crest of the next hill, a lone cow stood in the middle of the road, back end facing him. There wasn’t enough room on either side to pass the beast. Luc honked the horn.

      The placid cow turned to face him. To his dismay, the cow turned out to be a bull that apparently was not amused by honking car horns. It scraped one hoof against the ground and snorted its protest in a bellow of disgust.

      “Carrying bucolic a bit far, aren’t we, God?”

      He sat there for several moments, waiting for inspiration to strike. The bull glared at him. Luc glared back. He was no wimp. He was a tough, in-charge doctor. He twisted the steering wheel hard right and edged forward. The bull moved just slightly to the right. Luc shifted to the left, so did the bull.

      He considered getting out and chasing the thing away, but he’d chosen his favorite red shirt to wear today, and some echo in his memory reminded him that bulls charged anything red.

      “What exactly am I doing out here?” he muttered in disgust. “Saturday afternoon and I’m sitting