Rocky Mountain Reunion. Tina Radcliffe

      He’d been through a lot of things in his life, but he’d only had himself to worry about. Now he was responsible for two people and it was a first for him.

      Matt ran a hand through his hair and stared ahead, seeing his daughter’s face as she’d slept in the hospital bed. Her long hair spread on the pillow, she’d looked more like six years old than nearly ten.

      Suddenly everything in his life shifted. The seriousness of Claire’s disease left him reeling. Nothing was more important than his daughter.

      His daughter.

      She’d lost her mother and now had to rely on a father she didn’t know. It hadn’t helped any that he had been out of the country for most of the past ten years. When he’d finally met Claire they were like strangers. The irony was that they were the only family they each had left.

      Emotion choked him and he pushed aside the stack of diabetic literature on the table, fighting anger. Rage aimed at himself mostly, because there was no point in harboring a grudge against the woman who had kept his child a secret. He was as guilty as she was for their reckless act of impulsiveness. Claire was the one caught in the middle. She’d never known her father and now her mother was gone.

      In the center of the table sat his Bible. He hadn’t touched it since church last Sunday. Matt pulled the soft, leather-covered book closer. When he flipped through the pages the bookmark tucked in the very middle stopped him. Of course he knew what he would find nestled next to Psalm 31: a photo of him and Anne on their wedding day. Some days the picture made him smile. Other days the pain remained unbearable.

      Today he closed the book as quickly as he’d opened it.

      He glanced at his watch again. “Five minutes, Claire.”

      Stanley barked as Claire entered the kitchen a moment later.

      Her face was unreadable and expressionless as usual. Damp brown hair fell in waves past her shoulders. She wore a pink hoodie and blue jeans. He could have dealt with anger and defiance. That had been his attitude du jour, growing up with an absentee mother and a drunken father. But this indifference? Matt had no idea how to reach through the wall she’d constructed. He was an adult and he was afraid of a nine-year-old.

      “Where are we going?” she asked, her face a mask.

      “To see your new friend, Anne.”

      A tiny light flickered in her brown eyes. “The nurse?”

      “Yes. I called and we’re going to her house for some diabetic instruction.”

      Claire’s shoulders relaxed imperceptibly. “Thank you,” she breathed.

      Matt nodded, realizing that he had done something right. That surprised him, though he wasn’t going to pat himself on the back just yet. One step at a time. That was his new motto.

      Claire was pleased and that was a good thing.

      “How about if you grab the testing supplies and then get Stanley into the truck for me?”

      She nodded.

      When they were settled, he punched Anne’s address into the GPS and they drove in silence toward the outskirts of Paradise, past Patti Jo’s Café and Bakery, the hardware store and several novelty shops. Pedestrian traffic was steady in the small town where giant planters of geraniums and trailing ivy decorated the sidewalks.

      Summer brought tourists escaping the heat of Denver and Colorado Springs to the moderate-to-cool climate of the mountain town for fishing, hiking and other activities. The town was picturesque and quaint, nestled in the San Luis Valley with the Sangre de Cristo Mountains to the north and the San Juan Mountains to the west.

      As they started outside of town onto a rural road something began to click in Matt’s mental map. Anne lived on the other side of the lake. They’d met in college and he’d never actually been to her house, though he’d lived just a couple of miles northwest in the even smaller town of Four Forks. She’d never wanted him to meet her great-aunt, as though she’d suspected all along that her guardian would disapprove of their relationship.

      That should have been his first red flag. But he’d been young and had thought that love conquered all—including his “wrong side of the tracks” background. Now he knew to listen to those warning flags as a spiritual first line of defense. Today the closer they got to Anne’s house the more his radar alarmed loud and clear.

      He drove for a few miles following the directions on the GPS map, all the while watching for a location where he could safely pull off and onto the shoulder. Easing the truck to the right, he put on his emergency flashers.

      “What are you doing?” Claire asked.

      “Just checking something.” Matt reached into the backseat and pulled out the project plans. He carefully removed the sheath from the cardboard cylinder and unrolled the inner documents.

      “Can you hold this?”

      Claire held one side of the huge blueprint and he held the other.

      His heart hammered. Sure enough. The very plans he’d helped create were about to complicate his life. Big-time.

      Plans on paper were supposed to be adjustable. Erase them, start over and redo the mistakes. Right?

      Well, it was too late for that. Everything had been set in motion. Official documents had been approved and registered. Construction had begun. Demolition permits had been filed.

      The map that lay on the plans spread in front of him indicated that straight ahead they would turn right onto a narrow road. The town, in consultation with his firm, planned to expand and widen this particular rural road, providing a very necessary secondary egress to Paradise Lake and the development homes and condos.

      Urban renewal—except this time it was in the country. But the theory was the same. The town of Paradise had the right of eminent domain: a legal instrument to move people and property for development projects that improved the town.

      In Paradise that meant that all three of the houses along that road were slated to be razed. Homeowners had been given generous market value offers and they’d receive positive responses from all but one.

      The single holdout, by virtue of no response, was address twenty-two-fifty.

      Too late, he realized that twenty-two-fifty was the house that belonged to Lily Gray.

      What were the odds?

      Ten years later and Anne still lived with her aunt. Matt fought the desperate urge to turn the truck around, go back home, pack his bags and head straight to Denver.

      If that wasn’t bad enough, and it absolutely was, he realized he was about to come face-to-face with Lily Gray after all these years. The woman he blamed for turning Anne against him. For destroying the happy ending he’d planned for his life.

      He began to roll up the blueprint, carefully tucking the document back into the protective tube.

      “Is something wrong?” Claire whispered in her soft voice.

      Matt released a breath and rubbed his jaw. “Yeah. You could say that.”

      “What is it?”

      “Hard to explain,” he answered. “But it’s nothing that a little prayer won’t fix.”

      Claire frowned slightly and cocked her head, her amber eyes clear. “Do you pray about everything?”

      “I try to.” He turned and fully faced his daughter. “Do you pray, Claire?”

      “I guess.” She shrugged. “Sometimes.”

      “That’s good, because God is the best daddy either of us has. He won’t ever let us down. Today I am definitely going to need His help. And if today is one of those ‘sometimes’ for you, I’d like a few prayers, as well.”

      She blinked and studied him, as though digesting his words, and then offered