She’d planned to stay only until her car was fixed.But then what?
“Well...” Amy hedged. “I don’t have any specific plans. I wouldn’t mind sticking around, but I’d need find a job and a babysitter.” She smiled down at Kallie, who played contentedly with her toys. She was such a good-natured baby.
Hope put a hand on Amy’s arm. “Providence is a good place for a fresh start.” She and James shared a smile that said there was a story there.
“I might know of an opening,” James said. “Excuse me for a minute while I make a phone call.” He crossed the room and entered what Amy assumed was his study.
After he left, Hope asked about her luggage.
“I only have a couple bags. Ben said he’d bring them over after work.”
Hope’s face lit up. “Maybe he’ll stay for dinner. I’ll have to make his favorite.”
James returned a short time later, saying he’d arranged for Amy to have an interview. “The dispatcher and secretary at the sheriff’s office will have a baby soon, and the sheriff hasn’t found anyone to cover her maternity leave. Sheriff Winters said he’ll be in the office all morning, barring any emergencies, and you’re welcome to drop in anytime.”
A rush of excitement bubbled up in Amy. Maybe she could make a fresh start here. Getting a job would be the first step.Butwhat about Kallie?
Bringing a baby to a job interview wouldn’t make a good impression. She couldn’t leave her with the Youngs, though. That was asking too much. They were generous to open their home to her and Kallie, but she wasn’t sure she trusted them with her baby, yet. She picked Kallie up and held her on her lap.
“You can leave her here if you’d like,” Hope said, reading Amy’s concern.
Amy didn’t answer, instead, she held Kallie a little closer.
James gave Hope a pointed look. “I’m sure Robert wouldn’t mind if she brought the baby along. She seems well behaved. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
What message was the doctor trying to convey to his wife?
“Is the sheriff’s office close enough to walk to?”
Hope chuckled. “Pretty much everything in this town is close enough to walk to.” She took Amy to the kitchen, where she grabbed a pencil and paper and drew a map to the sheriff’s office. Hope walked Amy to the front door and watched her settle Kallie in the stroller.
Amy’s thoughts spun as fast as the stroller wheels while she walked to the sheriff’s office. First Ben’s, then Charity’s, and now the Young’s strange reactions to Kallie left her with a multitude of unanswered questions.
She talked to Kallie as they walked. “What’s the deal, Kallie Bug? Why do you upset everyone we meet? And who does Hope think you are?”
Forcing the confusing thoughts from her mind, she focused on the quaint, small-town scenery. What a beautiful oasis in this desert landscape.
Amy had never believed in fate or destiny. She’d been on own her since she was seventeen. Yes, she’d made some poor choices, Lance being the biggest, but that’s why she’d left. So things could be different, and she wouldn’t repeat her mistakes.
Celeste would tell Amy her car breaking down was destiny. Usually, Amy would argue with her, but she couldn’t deny her car had worked fine until the exit for Providence.
Why this small town?
Despite Ben’s broodiness, she was fortunate to encounter a mechanic who was willing to help her.
Amy spoke aloud again. “I don’t think we would’ve gotten such compassion from a mechanic in a big city. And we wouldn’t have found people as generous as Ben’s parents.” After meeting them, she felt better about accepting Ben’s help. But she wished she understood what is was about Kallie that upset everyone.
“If this job works out, Kallie Bug, I might have to admit fate may be playing a part in our lives after all. Breaking down might turn out to be a good thing.”
I hope.
* * *
“Tell me, Ms. Lawson,”Sheriff Winters said, “What brings you to Providence?”
Amy crossed her legs and took her time answering, hoping to give off a relaxed air of confidence. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected a small-town sheriff’s office to look like, but the building was even smaller than she’d expected. The reception area couldn’t have been more than fifteen square feet, but the wall of windows, letting in plenty of light, made the room—crowded with chairs, a coffee table, and an L-shaped desk—feel bigger than it was.
The sheriff looked nothing like Amy expected. She’d pictured him as a middle-age man with a receding hairline, graying sideburns, and a belly that came from years spent behind a desk. Sheriff Robert Winters, at roughly thirty years old, was none of these things. He epitomized the description tall, dark, and handsome and had the most gorgeous brown eyes—surrounded by the longest lashes—Amy had ever seen.
