Sweet Devotion. Felicia Mason

for some silly reason, she felt another nip or two from the green-eyed monster as she looked at Matt and Haley, and even at Cliff and Nancy Baines, the preacher and his wife, she let it slide. They looked so…happy.

      It didn’t matter. She didn’t go to Community Christian or any other church—and had no intention of starting anytime soon. Plus, through the years she’d had enough church camp to last her not one or two, but several lifetimes.

      Amber couldn’t remember the last time she could count herself truly happy. And she now knew she’d never really been in love. Not the way the Baineses were in love. She’d been part of a couple once. And all she had to say for the experience was good riddance.

      “So, how are you finding Wayside?”

      The question, directed to Paul from Nancy Baines, made Amber look up from her plate.

      Paul swallowed a bite of food. “Just fine, Mrs. Baines. It’s a lot different from L.A.”

      Amber’s throat constricted. “You’re from Los Angeles?”

      He nodded. “I needed to get Sutton and Jon out of the big city environment.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t healthy for any of us. And, where I lived and how I used to work didn’t lend itself to fatherhood. At least, not the way they needed.”

      “The children are just adorable,” Nancy said. “I have Sutton in my Sunday school class.”

      “Yes, she really enjoys that,” Paul said. “I’m glad I found Community Christian. That was one thing I thought I might miss about Los Angeles. Even though I worked crazy hours, I had a church family that was devoted to the gospel and family values, both incongruous notions in L.A.”

      Caleb helped himself to another kabob. “The chief here was on the LAPD for—what?—about twelve years, right Chief?”

      Amber gasped. Her eyes widened and her fork clattered to her plate. She stood up so fast she almost lost her balance. “Excuse me.” And she left the room.

      Matt and Haley shared a look.

      Cliff put his plate down. “Maybe I should…”

      Haley got up. “She’ll be all right. I’ll go check on her,” she said as she headed toward the kitchen.

      “Was it something I said?” Paul asked.

      “Uh, don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s just something to do with setting out dessert,” Matt said, but his look was hardly reassuring.

      Spending an evening with a room full of church people, even ones she knew, wasn’t Amber’s idea of a great time, but she’d found herself laughing at the byplay among Cliff, Nancy Baines, and even Caleb, and actually enjoying herself…until just now.

      He was one of them.

      “Amber, are you all right?”

      She shook her head. “I have to leave.”

      Haley wrapped an arm around her cousin’s shoulders. “I know. I’m sorry, Amber. I didn’t realize he was—”

      “It’s not your fault.” Amber stopped her. “This is my bugaboo. I have to learn to live with it.”

      Amber headed to the sliding glass doors that led to the deck and yard of Matt and Haley’s home.

      “It’s still raining outside,” Haley said. “Let me get you an umbrella.”

      “I’ll be fine. Sorry to break up your party.”

      And then she escaped into the dark night—a night a lot like one she’d tried for a long time to banish from her memory.

      “I think tonight was supposed to be a setup,” Marnie told Caleb Jenkins later.

      He laughed. “So it wasn’t just me getting that vibe.”

      “I think now that she’s happily married and starting a family, Haley has decided to play town matchmaker.”

      Caleb held the door for Marnie, who’d been dropped off at Haley and Matt’s by a co-worker.

      “The thing I’m trying to figure out,” he said, “is who was supposed to be with whom.”

      “I think I was supposed to be with Chief Evans. Did you see that pleased look on Haley’s face when I appeared at the door with him?”

      “How did that come about? Happenstance?”

      She waited until he came around and settled behind the wheel. “Something like that. He drove up at the same time I was dashing through the rain for the front door. So if Haley planned for me to get cozy with Chief Evans, that means she has her eye on you and Amber as a pair.”

      “Amber is a friend.”

      Marnie smiled. “Mm-hmm.”

      Caleb started the car. “Have you ever thought about selling the house?”

      She gave him a knowing look, but didn’t call him on the abrupt change of subject. “Yes.” The single word came out slow and long. Marnie shifted in her seat.

      He glanced at her, but didn’t follow up with the next obvious question.

      “It’s a lot of house,” she said. “Selling it makes sense.”

      Caleb nodded, but not because he agreed with her or particularly liked the direction of the conversation and what selling that house might mean. It just seemed the right thing to do at the moment. But instead of following that thread of their touch-and-go conversation, he asked another question that had been on his mind for a while.

      “So, how have you been? Really been, I mean?”

      Marnie chuckled softly, relieving the sudden tension in the car. The history between them didn’t get discussed very often. “I’ll answer that if you admit you have a secret thing for Amber Montgomery.”

      Caleb raised an eyebrow. He knew that to deny it again would be protesting too much.

      So they drove the rest of the way to her home in silence.

      Caleb didn’t regret asking the question about how she was really doing. He still wanted an answer, but maybe it was still too soon for her. Maybe it would never be the right time. He worried about Marnie. On the outside, everything looked okay, but they never talked about the thing that stood between them—the element that connected them. By not talking about Roy, they could pretend everything was just fine.

      He pulled into the driveway, careful to skirt the thick tree trunk that pushed through the gravel. He knew Marnie would rather cut off one of her own limbs than cut the tree down, so at some point the driveway would have to be realigned and rerouted around the ancient oak, the only non-maple tree on Maple Street.

      He came around and opened the passenger-side door, an old-fashioned habit he’d been taught as a child. Some women liked it, others made fun of him for doing it. Marnie, he knew, was in the first group.

      “For the record,” he said as if they’d never stopped talking, “Amber bakes a mean cookie, but I don’t have a thing for her. And anyway, she’s not interested.”

      Marnie opened her mouth to say something, then apparently changed her mind. “Thanks for the ride, Caleb.”

      He nodded. “Anytime.”

      He meant it, too, but didn’t know how to go further—to say the important things that stood between them.

      So he saw her to the door and waited until she let herself into the house. She turned in the doorway, looking soft and vulnerable and painfully beautiful.

      “Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee?”

      Yes.

      But he knew the way he was feeling right now, it was best if he went on his way. “No, it’s kind of late. I’ll just head on home.”

      She