Hannah's Beau. Renee Ryan

his help a second time or not. Even through her gloves, something strange had happened when their hands met.

      Her reaction worried her, of course, but not enough to be rude. Bracing for the jolt, she slowly placed her hand in his. The expected tingle started in her fingertips and moved swiftly up her arm. In an effort to be free of the disturbing sensation, she scrambled out of the carriage and nearly pushed the wall of man and muscle away from her.

      He looked at her strangely, dropped his gaze to his now-empty hand and sighed.

      With a theatrical flourish reminiscent of his brother, he motioned to the home standing behind him. “I give you Charity House,” he said, adding a shallow bow and a flick of his wrist to emphasize his point.

      Hannah blinked at the massive structure. “This is an orphanage?”

      “Spectacular, isn’t it?”

      She blinked again.

      Despite the grubby clouds that rapidly swallowed the pristine sky above, the house, with its clinging vines, stylish brick and soft angles, captured her imagination and made her think of fairy tales…rescued damsels in distress…happily ever afters…

      “It’s quite lovely,” she said at last.

      Unable to say anything more, she craned her neck and looked to her left and then to her right. It was evident that they stood in the middle of an exclusive neighborhood. Modern gas lamps sat atop poles at every street corner. Large, brick homes similar to Charity House in their grandeur marched shoulder to shoulder in elegant formation along the lane.

      Caught between surprise and puzzlement, Hannah slid a glance at the man looming large and silent beside her. He stood patiently, his hands linked behind his back.

      She turned her attention back to the orphanage. The sheer glamour of the home—or rather mansion—took her breath away.

      Dragging cold air into her lungs, she said, “I’ve never seen an orphanage quite like this.”

      And she’d seen plenty in the last few years. The buildings were usually sterile and functional, never as inviting as this one was.

      She focused on the sound of laughter and good-natured shrieks coming from somewhere in the near distance. The joyful noise of children hard at play made her ache with an unexpected sense of homesickness. It was an odd sensation that was part confusion, part longing, and she felt her shoulders stiffen in response.

      “Marc and Laney have spared no expense,” the reverend said. “Each child in his or her own way has suffered a great deal in their short lives. At Charity House they receive a little beauty in their previously barren worlds.”

      Hannah noted the manicured lawn scattered with blooming autumn plants. “It’s wonderful.”

      “It is.”

      A sudden thought occurred to her. “The neighbors don’t mind living this close to an orphanage?”

      “Most tolerate it.”

      It was an acceptable answer, but something dark flashed in his eyes and made her press the issue. “What about the others?”

      “As you can imagine, some don’t approve. They file complaints occasionally, but don’t worry.” His voice took on a convicted edge. “The Lord’s hand is on Charity House. The orphanage is here to stay.”

      “Praise God.”

      He gave her a heartening smile. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

      “Is the inside as grand?” she asked.

      “You’ll find out soon enough. Here come Marc and Laney now.” He tipped his head toward the front door.

      Hannah turned her attention back to the house in time to see a young couple negotiating the front steps together. Both were as beautiful as their home.

      The dark-haired, clean-shaven man was dressed in what Hannah would have thought more appropriate for a successful banker. He wore a gold and black brocade vest and a matching tie, while a shiny watch fob hooked to a middle button dangled toward a small pocket. The entire ensemble looked both expensive and elegant.

      The woman was dressed more casually, in a simple blue dress with a white lace collar. Her mahogany hair was pulled into a fashionable bun and she walked with an inherent grace any actress would envy.

      The couple held hands, as though they were newly married, madly in love, or both. Other than Patience and Reginald O’Toole, Hannah had never seen two people so finely attuned with one another.

      A gnawing ache twisted in Hannah’s stomach. Would she ever find that sort of connection with a man? Or was she destined to be alone, to serve other abandoned women and children without the benefit of a husband by her side?

      Only God knew for sure.

      As they drew closer, Hannah studied their faces. Compassion and strength of character were evident in their smiles and sparkling eyes. Eventually, the couple separated and the woman pushed slightly ahead.

      “Pastor Beau, what a pleasant surprise.” Beaming, she gripped both of the reverend’s hands and squeezed. “We didn’t expect you until Sunday.”

      He lifted one of her hands to his lips then released her. “The pleasure is mine.”

      “Beau.” The man slapped him on the back in a friendly gesture. “It’s always good to see you, no matter the day of the week.”

      “Marc and Laney Dupree, I would like to introduce Hannah Southerland.” He turned and gestured to her. “She’s a friend of my…parents’.”

      Marc nodded at her. The accompanying smile was so genuine and guileless Hannah found herself smiling back.

      Laney, however, clearly wanted none of the distant politeness required of first meetings. She boldly yanked Hannah into a tight hug. “Any friend of our favorite pastor is certainly welcome in our home.”

      At the genuine warmth in Laney’s words and the open acceptance in her embrace, Hannah’s stomach curled inside itself. Feeling more than a little desperate, she clung to the other woman with a fierceness she hadn’t known she possessed. Fear, frustration and terrifying hope braided together in a ball of awkward longing. Hannah hadn’t realized how alone she’d felt these last three days as she’d searched for Rachel and Tyler with no leads, no help and no advice.

      As though sensing her mood, Laney patted her on the back and whispered in a voice only Hannah could hear, “You’re safe with us.”

      Unable to respond, Hannah simply gripped the other woman tighter.

      “Tell me, Beau,” Marc asked from behind her. “What brings you to our home, on a Wednesday no less?”

      Feeling awkward, foolish even, Hannah stepped quickly out of Laney’s embrace. She was too emotional to speak, not that the question had been directed at her. But still…

      She gave the reverend a pleading look.

      His questioning gaze was so serious, so concerned, she lost the tiny thread of her control and tears pricked the backs of her eyelids. It took everything in her not to reach up and wipe at her lashes.

      He touched her arm. “Are you all right?”

      She nodded her head, a little too quickly, a little too intensely.

      His eyes softened. He squeezed her hand a moment, and then turned back to Marc. “I have a delivery from one of Mattie’s girls. Miss Southerland was kind enough to accompany me.”

      “I’m glad,” Marc said with a kind look directed at her.

      “And while we’re here,” the reverend continued, “we thought you might have an idea where your brother-in-law is today.”

      Marc and Laney shared a look. “You’re searching for Trey?” they asked in unison.

      Beau nodded, but