Season of Redemption. Jenna Mindel

want to dampen their happiness with his dark moods, so he’d stayed away.

      Ryan spotted Sinclair and Hope’s wedding picture on the desk and his fists clenched. “I need to do some community service hours and wondered if you knew of a good place around here.”

      Sinclair sat forward. “Actually, I have the perfect solution. A single mom in our congregation is having a house built by a nonprofit group of churches that builds homes for needy families. They could really use someone with your skills.”

      Ryan nodded. He’d been picking away at refurbishing his cottage for over a year now. Other than minor finishing work, it was pretty much done.

      His brother pushed a sticky note with contact information toward him. “This is the church in charge of the program, and Jeff is the guy who oversees the construction.”

      “Thanks.” Ryan picked it up and slipped the note in his wallet.

      “So, how’s it going?”

      Ryan shrugged. “Not like I’d ever planned. Mom probably told you, but that agency I had to see recommended me for counseling. So, I’m stuck for the next couple of months.”

      Sinclair steepled his fingers. “Maybe it will help.”

      “Right.” Ryan narrowed his gaze. “What did you tell that intern?”

      His brother didn’t look away. “I told her what happened to Sara. And I told her that we’re all worried about you.”

      Ryan nodded. There were things about that day he didn’t want to revisit. It was hard enough blocking out the vision of his fiancée lying on the ground. Another thing entirely to keep from hearing her last words spoken over and over in his dreams. The feel of her last kiss...

      “Man, I’m sorry about all this.” Sinclair covered Ryan’s hand.

      Ryan pulled back and stood. “Yeah, me, too. Thanks for the info. I’ll check it out.”

      He made his way to the door.

      “Ryan?”

      He turned and looked at his brother’s concerned face. “Yeah?”

      “If you need anything, I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

      “Thanks.” Ryan nodded and left.

      Sinclair hadn’t been around after the funeral when he’d needed his brother the most. When his life had stretched empty before him, Ryan had faced it alone knowing no one really knew what it had been like. Only Sinclair had been there the day of the accident. Only Sinclair knew what he’d gone through watching Sara die.

      It was too late for talking out those feelings now.

      Three years too late.

      Chapter Three

      Ugh! Forty degrees and rainy and her car was in the shop. Kellie shivered but kept pedaling. Her breath billowed white before her, and she had to blink constantly to clear the raindrops from her eyes. She should have worn a ball cap instead of the knitted hat she had on underneath her rain slicker.

      She’d only ridden a mile out of town and already her jeans were soaked. Four more to go in this miserable mess. As soon as she got paid next week, she’d repay Ryan Marsh for the tow truck. Her car would be done before that, but she’d have to use her credit card to pay for it. Another climb on that plastic balance didn’t sit well, but she didn’t have much of a choice.

      A car passed by, splashing dirty water all over her feet. Kellie gritted her teeth as cold rain trickled down her neck, but she kept pedaling. She puffed another billow of white breath in the cold evening air and picked up the pace in order to make the hill in front of her.

      The exertion warmed her, but not even halfway up the hill, Kellie couldn’t push anymore. She slipped off her bike to walk the rest of the way when a dark blue pickup truck pulled off the road up ahead.

      She knew that truck. And the tall man getting out of the driver’s side. Ryan Marsh, bundled in a dark gray rain parka, shortened the distance between them in no time.

      He reached for her bike with his big square hands. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

      Kellie didn’t let go. “No need. I’ve got it.”

      The rain grew more insistent. So did Ryan’s expression. “You really think I’m going to leave you out here? You’re hard to see in this soup.”

      Kellie had reflectors on her bike and a reflective strip across her backpack and rain slicker, but as dusk grew closer, so did patches of fog and mist. She glanced at the cab of his truck promising dry warmth and a quicker ride home. Her hands were cold inside damp gloves.

      “It’s not like your place is out of my way. I live only a few houses down from you. Plus, I’ve got some questions about group sessions.” Ryan shrugged deeper into the hood of his jacket while rain trickled down the front. “I could really use your insight into what to expect.”

      Kellie looked into his pleading eyes and felt the refusal die on her lips. He wanted her help. She wanted to get warm. How harmful could it be?

      Kellie nodded and let go of her bike. She watched Ryan lift it with ease into the truck’s bed. She slipped off her backpack, climbed into the passenger side and buckled up.

      Ryan settled in behind the wheel bringing with him a spray of raindrops. He cranked up the heat and pointed to the cup holders in the flip-down console between them. “I just filled my travel mug with hot chocolate at the gas station. Help yourself.”

      Kellie looked with longing at the giant insulated mug, steam rising from the lid. She glanced in the backseat and spotted a brown grocery bag. What was in the bag? “No. That’s okay.”

      He gave her quizzical look. “Kellie, go ahead and have it. You’re frozen. And in case you’re wondering what’s in the bag back there, it’s milk and cereal, not beer.”

      True, she’d been wondering and nodded. Cold shivers racked her body and she suddenly didn’t care about drinking after him. Stripping off her wet gloves, she reached for the metal mug. She cradled her hands around the stainless steel warmth and sighed. “Thanks.”

      “No problem.” Looking in his mirror, he pulled back out onto the road.

      After a few sips of hot chocolate, Kellie got down to business. This couldn’t be a social call. “You wanted insight into your sessions?”

      “I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do.”

      “You’ve met with John about your goals, right?”

      “Yeah. My goal is to get this done and over with as quickly as possible.”

      Kellie shifted in her seat so she could better see Ryan’s face. He looked annoyed. “Group will mean more if you focus on each session instead of the end result. Give yourself permission to open up and share your feelings in a safe environment.”

      He gave a rude snort. “I’m not comfortable talking about my feelings with people I know let alone to an entire group of strangers.”

      Kellie took another sip of chocolate. She didn’t point out that his refusal to deal with his feelings was what got him to this point. Ryan probably felt too much, and being the hero-type he wouldn’t dream of burdening someone else with his baggage. He’d carry his own, never wanting to appear weak or needy.

      Kellie could definitely relate. Self-dependence was her mantra. Her safety measure. Maybe she didn’t let herself feel enough because strong feelings needed an outlet for release. She shook off those thoughts. Counseling required a certain level of emotional distance, and she’d learned how to distance herself pretty well.

      Another sip of hot chocolate and she felt more human and less like a wet sponge. “Vocalizing can minimize the power those feelings have.”

      He looked