A woman wandered into the room, and Millie recognized her immediately. Naomi—Caleb’s sister. She stirred something on the burner, then turned as they stepped farther into the room.
Naomi’s gaze met hers, and recognition flickered in her eyes. Her expression eased into a small, genuine smile. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Millie?”
“It’s me.”
They met halfway across the kitchen and hugged.
“I can’t believe it,” Naomi said against her shoulder. “It’s really you.”
Millie nodded, throat tight. “I didn’t expect to see you either.”
“Same here.” Naomi pulled back, her eyes searching Millie’s face. “But I’m glad you’re here, that our paths crossed again. I don’t believe in coincidences.”
Coincidences . . . Millie didn’t believe in them either.
She believed in God, believed that He worked in all things.
Even when Garrick had convinced her to leave her church for a more “prestigious” one—one filled with politicians and powerful people she had nothing in common with—she’d maintained her faith.
Even after everything with Garrick had imploded, her faith was what had sustained her through the sleepless nights and paralyzing fear.
But sustaining didn’t mean understanding. She still had questions. Still wondered why God had allowed this to happen to her, why He hadn’t protected her from Garrick in the first place.
Maybe her being here was part of some sort of plan He had for her.
Is that what this is, God? Are You trying to teach me something? Forgiveness maybe? Are You trying to humble me more? Haven’t I been humbled enough?
“You must be hungry.” Naomi headed to the stove, where a large pot with steam rising from it sat on a burner. “Have a seat while I get you some food.”
Millie lowered herself into a seat at the table while Naomi grabbed a bowl and ladled some soup into it. A moment later, she set it in front of Millie along with thick slices of bread and pads of butter. A glass of iced tea followed, beads of condensation sliding down the side.
Biscuit looked up longingly, and Naomi noticed.
“Can I give him something to eat also?” Naomi said. “I think I saw Max bring in a bag of dog food.”
“If you don’t mind, that would be great.”
“Of course.”
A few minutes later, Naomi crouched in the kitchen to set down a bowl of food and water for Biscuit. He didn’t hesitate, tail wagging as he dug in.
Millie watched him eat and released some air from her lungs.
Biscuit was fine. He was safe.
So was she.
For now, at least.
Caleb took the chair across from her. He sat there and patiently waited for her to eat. He’d always been steady and stalwart.
Stalwart? Where had that word come from?
Millie wasn’t sure, but it did fit him. The man was resolute and determined.
She wrapped her hands around the bowl, letting the heat seep into her palms for a moment. Then she took her first sip.
The soup warmed her all the way through and eased some of the edge she felt.
