The Soldier's Redemption. Lee McClain Tobin

Esperanza Springs had only two churches, so it was fifty-fifty odds she’d choose theirs.

      Unless she wanted to get some breathing room, too.

      Or maybe she’d leave after a week. He intended to make sure the work was hard and long, so that she didn’t get too comfortable here.

      Because something about Kayla White was making him feel anything but comfortable.

      * * *

      As the church service ended in a burst of uplifting piano music, Kayla leaned back in the pew. Her whole body felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. Months, really.

      The little church had plain padded benches and a rough-hewn altar. Outside the clear glass windows, the splendor of the mountains put to shame any human effort at stained glass artistry.

      Leo had sat with her for half the service, reluctantly gone up to the children’s sermon and then followed the other kids out of the sanctuary with a desperate look back at Kayla. She’d forced herself not to rescue him and had made it ten minutes before giving in to her worries and going to check on him. She’d found him busily making crafts with the other young children, looking, if not happy, at least focused.

      Now beside her Penny stretched, stood and then sat back down. “Hey, I forgot to mention that Finn and I help serve lunch after church to the congregation and some hard-up folks in the community. Would you like to join us? If you don’t feel like working, you can just mingle until lunch is served.”

      The pastor—young, tanned and exuberant—had been visiting with the few people remaining in the pews, and he reached them just as Penny finished speaking. “We find we get more people to come to church when we offer a free meal,” he said and held out a hand to Kayla. “Welcome. We’re glad to have you here. I’m Carson Blair.”

      “Kayla White. I enjoyed your sermon.”

      He was opening his mouth to reply when two little girls, who looked to be a bit older than Leo, ran down the aisle at breakneck speed. They flung themselves at the pastor, one clinging to each leg, identical pouts on their faces.

      “Daddy, she hit me!”

      “She started it!”

      The pastor knelt down. “Skye, you need to go sit right there.” He indicated a pew on the left-hand side. “And, Sunny, you sit over here.” He pointed to the right.

      “But...”

      “We wanted to play!” The one he’d called Sunny looked mournfully at her twin.

      “Sit quietly for five minutes, and you can play together again.”

      Kayla smiled as the pastor turned back toward the small circle of adults. “Good tactics,” she said. “I have a five-year-old. I can’t imagine handling two.”

      Finn pushed himself out of the pew and ended up standing next to Kayla, leaning on his cane, facing the pastor. “Had a phone message from you,” he said to the pastor. “I’m sorry I didn’t return it. Weekend got away from me.”

      “We all know your aversion to the phone,” the pastor said, reaching out to shake Finn’s extended hand.

      “To conversation in general,” Penny said. “Finn’s the strong, silent type,” she added to Kayla.

      “Don’t listen to them,” Finn advised and then turned back toward the pastor. “What’s up?”

      “I was hoping to talk to you about your chaplain position. I know you can’t pay yet, but I’d be glad to conduct vespers once a week, or do a little counseling, as long as it doesn’t take away from my work here.”

      “I’ll keep that in mind.”

      Finn’s answer didn’t seem very gracious for someone who’d just been offered volunteer services.

      The pastor looked at him steadily. “Do that.”

      “We certainly will,” Penny said. “But speaking of work, that lunch won’t get served without us. You coming?” she asked Kayla.

      “Absolutely. Lunch smells wonderful. I’m happy to help, if it will get me a plate of whatever’s cooking.”

      “We all partake,” the pastor said, shaking her hand again vigorously. “We’re glad to have you here. It’s rare that we get a fresh face.”

      “Won’t be so rare soon,” Penny warned. “We have a couple of new veterans coming in. And I’m working on getting Long John and Willie to church, too.”

      “You know the church does a van run,” the pastor said. “Sounds like you’ll need it. And we’ll gladly welcome the men and women who served our country.”

      Finn jerked his head to the side. “Let’s go.”

      In the church kitchen, organized chaos reigned. Finn handed aprons to Kayla and Penny and then donned one himself, choosing it from a special hook labeled with his name.

      “Why do you get your own apron?” she asked, because there didn’t seem to be anything special about it.

      “It’s king-size,” he said ruefully. “Those little things barely cover a quarter of me. Last Christmas, the volunteers went together to buy me this tent.”

      “And in return,” a white-haired woman said, “we make him carry all the heavy trays and boxes. Isn’t that right, Finn?”

      “Glad to, as long as you save me a piece of your strawberry-rhubarb pie, Mrs. Barnes.”

      Kayla was put to work dishing up little bowls of fruit salad while Penny helped Mrs. Barnes get everyone seated and Finn pulled steaming trays of chicken and rice from the ovens. A couple of other ladies carried baskets of rolls to each table and mingled with the guests, probably fifty or sixty people in all.

      It wasn’t a fancy church. As many of the congregation members wore jeans as dresses and suits, and seating for the meal was open. That meant there was no distinction between those who’d come just for the food and those who’d come for the service first. Nice.

      The children burst into the room and took over one corner, stocked with toys and a big rug. Kayla waited a minute and then went to check on Leo. She found him banging action figures with another kid in a zealous pretend fight.

      “Hey, buddy,” she said quietly, touching his shoulder.

      He flinched and turned. She hated that he did that. No matter what, she was going to make sure he gained confidence and stopped feeling like he was at risk all the time. Mitch had never hit him, to her knowledge, but yelling and belittling were almost as bad. And that last time, when he’d broken into their place and beaten Kayla, she’d looked up from the floor to see Leo crouched in the doorway, pale and silent, tears running down his cheeks.

      “Leo is quiet, but he seems to fit in,” said the woman who’d run the children’s program. “He’s a very polite little boy. I understand he’s going to do the day camp, too?”

      Kayla nodded. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

      “He’s welcome to sit at the kids’ table and eat. Most of the children do, though a few go sit with their parents.”

      Kayla turned back to Leo. “What do you think, buddy? Want to sit here with your new friends, or come sit with me and Miss Penny and Mr. Finn?”

      Leo considered.

      The other boy whacked his action figure. “ATTACK!” he yelled.

      Leo made his figure strike back, and the other boy fell on the floor, pretending he’d been struck.

      “I’ll stay with the kids,” Leo said and dived down to the floor to make his action figure engage in some hand-to-hand combat with the one the other boy was holding.

      Kayla watched them play for a moment as realization struck her. If she did, indeed, build a better