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An Unexpected Homecoming

Returning to her hometown to clear out her late mother’s house, Vanessa Donovan’s goal is to do the job quickly and escape. She refuses to get involved with Rory Sanderson, her handsome neighbor. And she can’t let herself be dazzled by his smile and caring ways. Because if there’s one thing Vanessa won’t do, it’s fall for a minister. While the pastor in Rory wants to mend Vanessa’s wounds, the man in him can’t resist the beautiful woman. But while he’s helping her, Vanessa is doing the unthinkable—healing his own deep scars and opening his heart...if he can convince her that love is worth the risk.

“You don’t have to be alone.”

“I don’t need help.” She panicked as she imagined him being at the house with her every day, watching her.

As he walked away, he said over his shoulder, “I hope one day you stop seeing me as the enemy and let me be your friend.”

“I can’t,” she said, tears burning her eyes. He was a minister. “I can’t be your friend, Rory.”

“Or you can’t let me be your friend?” Before she could answer, he turned back. “I came here today because I saw someone in need. Not as a minister but as a person.”

And then he was gone.

Vanessa wanted to run after him. But she had to be strong and fight the temptation. She’d taken care of herself for a long time now. Why should she believe a sweet-talking preacher who made her feel safe?

Her confusing thoughts about Rory had to stop. Because growing close to him would be a bad idea.

So why did she want to believe him?

With sixty books published and millions in print, LENORA WORTH writes award-winning romance and romantic suspense. Three of her books finaled in the ACFW Carol Awards, and her Love Inspired Suspense novel Body of Evidence became a New York Times bestseller. Her novella in Mistletoe Kisses made her a USA TODAY bestselling author. Lenora goes on adventures with her retired husband, Don, and enjoys reading, baking and shopping…especially shoe shopping.

Lakeside Sweetheart

Lenora Worth

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Jesus said to her, Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.

—John 4:13–14

To my cousin Nancy Anderson.

So glad you are back in our lives!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

He always noticed new faces at church.

As minister of the Millbrook Lake Church, Rory Sanderson had a bird’s-eye view of the entire congregation, including everyone from Mrs. Fanny Fitzpatrick in her fake-fruit-covered straw hat to Alec Caldwell’s aunt Hattie in her pearls and baby-blue pillbox.

But one person stood out today more than all the others.

Maybe because her discomfort could have shattered the rows of stained glass windows lining each side of the tiny chapel. The doubtful expression made her look a little lost, but her light brown hair shimmered with a luster that reminded him of sea oats at sunrise. He couldn’t tell much about her eyes. She wore dark shades.

But he felt pretty sure those hidden eyes were staring straight at him. She must be one of those. Someone had obviously invited her to the service today. And she so did not want to be here.

Rory took that as a challenge. He accepted the woman’s distrust with a smile and a prayer. That was his job, after all. To turn that frown upside down. To bring the lost home. To make the backsliders and unbelievers faithful. Especially on such a beautiful spring day. A day full of rebirth and renewal. The best kind of day.

Easter Sunday.

The whole flock, maybe the whole town, had turned out in their Easter finery. And they all had smiles on their faces.

Except for that one, of course. The one in the pretty yellow dress that reminded him of picnics and wildflowers, wearing those dark Wayfarers and that shell-shocked expression. And Rory had to wonder. What had made this woman so reluctant to be here today?

* * *

“You could try smiling,” Marla Caldwell said into Vanessa Donovan’s ear. “It won’t break your face.”

“I told you I don’t do church,” Vanessa replied, uneasiness making her fidget. Tugging her turquoise floral wrap over her bare arms, she glanced around. “I only came because you invited me. And because I want some of that good food your mother and Aunt Hattie bribed us with—I mean—promised to us—for Sunday dinner.”

“They are not above bribery,” Marla said with a grin, her red-gold ponytail bouncing. “But church will do you good, you’ll see. It sure can’t hurt you.”

Marla could afford to tease. She was still a newlywed. Happy and settled and very much in love with a former marine who lived in a big Victorian house not far from Vanessa’s smaller Craftsman-style cottage. After a Christmas wedding, Marla and her cute preschooler, Gabby, now lived in that rambling house with handsome Alec Caldwell and his adorable aunt Hattie and two dogs. One big, happy family.

Something Vanessa would never have. But she didn’t care about all of that anyway, she reminded herself.

Glad for her friend, Vanessa remembered she didn’t believe in that sort of thing. She was a realist who’d decided long ago that marriage and family weren’t for her. Marla teased her about being too pessimistic and cynical, but Vanessa was practical and resolved. Resolved to a life that didn’t include a long-term relationship or attending church or bouncing a baby on her lap.

“I’m not quite ready to dive right in,” Vanessa said, her eyes on the cute guy up front greeting everyone as if he owned the place. “What’s the story with Surfer Dude?”

Marla giggled. “You mean Preacher? His name is Rory Sanderson. He does look like a surfer with that dark-blond hair, and he’s pretty good at surfing and a lot of other things, now that I think about it. But his real passion is right here inside this church. He’s our minister and he’s good at his job. Amazing, considering he’s all alone. No wife or children. Every matron in this congregation has tried to fix him up, but I think he’s holding out for someone special.”

Vanessa shook her head, shocked that someone so young and, well, hip, could be a preacher. “Right. Or he’s so caught up in himself that he doesn’t really see the audience.”

“Not an audience. A congregation,” Marla replied. “And you’re wrong about Rory. He doesn’t have an ego.” She waved to a couple who sat down behind them and then pointed them out to Vanessa. “That’s Alec’s best friend, Blain Kent—he’s also a former marine and is now a detective with the Millbrook Police—and his fiancée, Rikki Alvanetti. She’s an interior designer. They’re getting married in a few weeks.”

Vanessa nodded and smiled at the couple. They’d make pretty babies since they both had dark hair and expressive eyes—hers almost black and his deep blue—and looked exotic and buff. And happy.

Everyone in this place seemed happy.

Chiding herself for being in such a snarky mood, she turned back to the front again. That minister seemed to be watching her. This hour couldn’t get over with fast enough.

Then because she did feel guilty even thinking that, Vanessa lifted her eyes to one of the beautiful stained glass windows and asked God to give her a better perspective.

When she lowered her gaze, the cute preacher with the boyish grin and the dark-blond wind-tossed hair looked right at her and smiled. And then he did something even more daring. He came down from the front of the church and headed straight to the pew where Vanessa sat.

“Is he going to—”

“Yes, he is,” Marla said with a grin. When he stopped near them, she said, “Preacher Rory, this is my friend Vanessa Donovan. She moved back to town a couple of weeks ago.”

“Not moved back,” Vanessa corrected. “I came back to take care of some things.”

The preacher took Vanessa’s hand, shaking it lightly before he stood back and smiled, his baby blue eyes centered on Vanessa as if she were the only person in this place. “It’s nice to meet you, Vanessa. Welcome to Millbrook Lake Church.”

“Uh...thanks,” Vanessa said, a white heat of embarrassment moving up her spine. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

He spoke to a few more people and then turned back to Vanessa. “Happy Easter.”

She watched as he headed toward the back and greeted almost everyone else who entered the open double doors. “He’s so friendly,” she whispered to Marla. “I’m not sure how to take that.”

Marla glanced back and then turned to Vanessa. “You know, you need to let go of that cynical attitude. Preacher is solid. He’s a good man. He was a chaplain in the army.”

“What?” Vanessa looked over her shoulder. “That sunny, happy, goofy man served in the military?”

“He sure did,” Marla replied. “And...he wasn’t always so sunny and happy and goofy.”

Faith is the substance of things hoped for...

Vanessa thought about that verse of scripture on the short ride back to Alec and Marla’s house. Why did that particular verse seem to move through her like the blue waters of the big oval lake centered in the middle of town?

Maybe it wasn’t the verse so much as the preacher who’d read it. Rory Sanderson didn’t preach. He talked. In a quiet, friendly tone that made you think he really was talking to you and only you. Which irritated Vanessa. She didn’t want to like the man, but some of what he’d said made sense.

She had listened, too. He’d pointed out how Jesus liked to hang out with the misfits and the outsiders. How a lot of those kinds of people were there during His Crucifixion.

But she had to wonder if the misfits and losers had been allowed in the church today. Everyone at the service had seemed so fresh faced and full of joy. Were they all that happy, or had they been hiding their pain behind a pretty facade?

Vanessa didn’t know and it really didn’t matter. She probably wouldn’t go back to Millbrook Lake Church. She hadn’t been to church in a long, long time. And she didn’t plan on staying in Millbrook for too long either.

Clean out the house. Sell the house. Pocket the cash. Get on with her life. Whatever that life might be. Right now, she had a solid team looking out for her interests, and she had a boutique and online business waiting for her back in New Orleans. So she took a deep breath and decided she’d try to be grateful for being invited to share a nice meal with Marla’s family. She could deal with other people’s families, but she did not need one of her own.

Pulling her small car up to the side drive next to Caldwell House, Vanessa got out and took in the scents of jasmine and wisteria, thankful that she didn’t have to spend this gorgeous day alone.

But when she looked up and saw a man strolling up the sidewalk, she silently groaned.

The preacher headed toward her. And she had the sinking feeling he would be at Sunday dinner, too.

* * *

Rory waved to the woman who emerged from the cute little blue vintage roadster. Vanessa Donovan, still wearing those shades. She’d taken them off during the service, but he had yet to see her eyes up close. He’d been too busy preaching it to a full house. Now he might be able to have some one-on-one time with the interesting woman who stood staring at him as if she wanted to get back in the car and haul herself far away from here.

“How are you?” he asked, determined to make her take off those ridiculously big shades. He was pretty sure they were missing from the 1960s, too. And maybe even the dress.

But she made all of these old-fashioned things fresh and new.

“I’m good.” She held a straw purse embellished with a big white daisy that Mrs. Fitzpatrick would surely love and met him at the intricate gate to the back garden. “I...I enjoyed your sermon.”

Polite but cool. “Thank you. I’m glad you made it to the service today. How do you know Marla?”

She looked relieved to move away from the topic of church. “We were friends in high school briefly and then we ran into each other in Tallahassee before I moved to New Orleans. I’m so glad she’s found someone. She deserves to be happy.” Then she winced. “Oh, wow. That sounded so cliché.”

Rory laughed and walked with her up the steps onto the back porch. Aunt Hattie and Marla had the porch decorated with white lace tablecloths and all kinds of fresh flowers. “But it’s true. Marla and Alec are meant for each other. They had their wedding reception right here in the garden, in December.”

“So I heard. Sounds beautiful.”

“And romantic,” he said with a grin. “One of the many perks of my job. I presided over their vows. Chilly weather but warm atmosphere.”

She finally took off her shades and gave him a doubting stare with big hazel eyes that went from brown to green in a beautiful flash. But before Rory could counter her skeptical expression with something positive, the back door opened and little Gabby came running out, followed by two dogs.

“Hello, Uncle Rory,” Gabby said, squealing in delight as both animals ran circles around Rory and Vanessa. “Angus, stop. Roxie, quit being so silly.”

Rory squatted down and smiled at Gabby, careful not to get too close. The four-year-old had the little poodle Roxie for a reason, and Roxie sometimes wore a service vest for a reason. The tiny dog was trained to keep Gabby calm whenever she felt threatened or afraid. Which happened less and less these days, thankfully. The little girl had gone through a lot of trauma after being involved in a robbery that took her daddy’s life.

“Hello, Gabby,” he said. “This is my new friend, Vanessa. Don’t you love her pretty dress?”

Gabby grabbed Roxie and stood back to stare up at Vanessa with big brown eyes. Bobbing her head in agreement with Rory’s question, she asked, “Are you eating dinner with us?”

“I am,” Vanessa said, clearly uncomfortable with the whole Sunday-dinner thing. Or maybe the child made her uncomfortable. “Is that okay?”

Gabby showed a snaggletoothed grin. “Yes, ma’am. Are you hungry? We have ham and mashed potatoes and asp-per-gus. I don’t like that, though.”

“I don’t either,” Rory said, grinning. “But I love me some mashed potatoes.”

“And I like ham and asparagus,” Vanessa said. “I hear your mother made cupcakes and pies, too.”

Gabby did a little back and forth sway, her print dress swishing. “Uh-huh. She made Easter cupcakes with bunnies and flowers and grass. I’m gonna eat two.”

“And I’ll eat three at least,” Rory said, glad that Vanessa was warming up to the little girl. Gabby would sense it if Vanessa wasn’t comfortable.

“Hello there.” Aunt Hattie came strolling out, her arms wide open and her cheeky smile warm. “Welcome, welcome. I’m so glad you’re both here and that you found each other out there.”

“We did,” Rory said, shooting Vanessa an encouraging glance. “Ran into each other by the gate.”

“Did that hurt?” Gabby asked, her eyes wide again.

Aunt Hattie hooted with laughter. “Out of the mouths of babes.”

“I don’t know yet,” Rory said, his gaze still on Vanessa. “It wasn’t too painful to me. How about you, Vanessa?”

She smiled and shook her head. “We’re fine, Gabby.”

Then she walked with Aunt Hattie into the house, leaving Rory to wonder if he’d ever be fine again.

Of all the people he’d seen in church this morning, why did this woman have to be the one who’d come to dinner at the Caldwells’? And why did she have to be the one who’d left him wondering and wanting to help her when he didn’t even know what she needed?

Why not?

God always put people in certain places for a reason. Vanessa was here for a reason. Rory should know better than anyone that humans didn’t make their own paths.

Sometimes God put a woman in a bright yellow dress right smack-dab in the middle of the road so she could be found.

And sometimes He stopped a hopeful preacher cold in his tracks just to keep him on his toes. For a brief moment guilt gnawed at his conscience, but Rory took in the scent of flowers all around him and nodded. No matter what happened, this spring was glorious.

Chapter Two

Vanessa strolled around the big rambling backyard at Caldwell House, her mind on everything she had to get done during the next few weeks.

“Tea?”

Rory handed her a refill while they watched Gabby, with Roxie right on her heels, searching for Easter eggs in the many dish gardens and potted palms displayed all around the colorful yard.

“Thank you.” Vanessa took the goblet of dark tea flavored with lemon. Not knowing what else to say, she smiled. “What a meal.”

She’d enjoyed listening to the easy banter, the tiny bits of good-natured gossip and the news of the week. Millbrook Lake was growing now that the local economy had finally improved. She knew Alec had a lot to do with that since he’d returned home. She hadn’t kept up much with Millbrook Lake. Mainly because she’d never planned to return here.

“I’ll say.” Rory rubbed his flat stomach. “I shouldn’t have had pie and cupcakes, but the cooking around here is so good I always double up when I get invited for Sunday dinner.”

She had to laugh. Watching him eat had been an event in itself. “Do you get invited to lunch and dinner a lot?”

“Sure. And breakfast, too. A perk of the job. People love to feed the preacher. Especially since this preacher lives alone.”

She glanced over at him and saw a darkness moving through his eyes like a cloud over a clear sky. She wanted to ask him about that, but he looked straight ahead and watched Gabby with a quiet intensity that belied his cheerful nature.

“The meal was amazing,” she said, suddenly unsure around him. Suddenly remembering that she had not wanted to be around him. And yet, here she stood. But she also thought about Marla’s words to her earlier about him not always being so sunny, happy and goofy.

She could handle cheerful and friendly. Those were easy emotions. But imagining Rory Sanderson sad made her concerned and curious. Though wary around men of the cloth, she didn’t want to think of this man as anything other than what he seemed. His carefree nature didn’t appear at all threatening.

But then, she shouldn’t be thinking of him anyway. He was the preacher. A man of God. Certainly not her type. Not that she was looking. She’d sworn off any long-term relationships, and she certainly wasn’t ready for anything else. She thought of the tiny church up the road and willed herself to push away the memories of another church that had been located on the outskirts of town. Gone now. Torn down for new commercial real estate.

“I don’t normally eat so much,” she continued in the small-talk vein. “But Aunt Hattie is famous for her meals, and Marla is amazing with sugar and flour and butter.”

“A dynamic duo,” he said, the smile bright on his face again. “I need a long Sunday-afternoon nap.”

She could picture him kicked back in a recliner, snoring softly. That did make her smile.

“I’d think you don’t get to rest much,” she blurted to get rid of that warm, fuzzy feeling. “I mean, being a minister.”

“I get eight hours of sleep most nights, but things happen. A death, a birth, a trip to the ER, a hospital visit now and then.” He gave her a quick but concise glance. “Sometimes people need to talk, even in the middle of the night.”

Vanessa got that image in her head, too. Her reaching for the phone, calling him. Telling him her worst fears.

She tried again with the small talk. “And you have to be there for all of those things.”

“Spoken like someone who might know.”

“I don’t know much,” she said, her tone sharp in her own ears. She didn’t like the direction this conversation seemed to be heading—toward her. “But it’s obvious enough.”

“I guess it is,” he said, his words somber now. “My reputation precedes me.”

He’d misunderstood. Most people did whenever she made disparaging remarks regarding church. But she never explained her reasons for staying away from organized religion.

She wanted to say it wasn’t his reputation she based her assumption on, but those of other people. Only, she wasn’t ready to get that personal with him. She didn’t plan on being around this man after today anyway. She had plenty to keep her busy.

“You seem to be popular with your people,” she said.

“God’s people,” he corrected with a smile. “I try to help them along.”

They came to a big swing centered underneath an arbor covered with jasmine. The fragrant scent of the tiny yellow-and-white flowers and the droning hum of bees made Vanessa wish for something she couldn’t even define.

“Want to sit and watch the egg hunt?” he asked.

She glanced at the swing and then back at him. “I don’t know. I mean, I should be going. I have a lot to do tomorrow.” Needing to explain, she added, “I’m here to clean out my mother’s house. She died a few weeks ago.”

His expression turned compassionate. “I’m sorry. Did she live here?”

“She used to. She moved to a retirement and nursing facility in Alabama. She hadn’t lived here in years.”

He nodded, his expressive face couched in a calm that made him change from boyish to good-looking. “I get a day off tomorrow. If you need any help.”

“I don’t think so. This is one of your busy weekends. You need to rest after your big day.”

“Yes. But then, I consider every Sunday a big day.”

Vanessa gave him a hesitant smile. “I think I’ll go and tell the others I’m leaving. It was nice to meet you—”

“Rory,” he said. “Call me Rory.”

She nodded and headed back to where Marla and her parents were helping Gabby find the colorful eggs. The little girl giggled and showed off her treasures while Roxie squeaked out excited barks and ran circles around the adults.

Angus watched the whole show from a warm spot on the brick terrace near the porch. The older Border collie didn’t have a care in the world.

Aunt Hattie met her near the house. “We’re so glad you came today, Vanessa. I hope you’ll visit again.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Vanessa said. “The food was so good, Aunt Hattie.”

“Nothing like a home-cooked meal to nourish us, even if it does require a few extra calories.”

Vanessa hadn’t had many home-cooked meals growing up. “I can’t argue with that.” She hugged Aunt Hattie, the scent of sweet almond surrounding her. “I have to go, but I wanted to thank you again. Let me tell Marla I’m leaving.”

“Oh, she wrapped you a plate,” Aunt Hattie said. “I’ll go fetch it.”

Vanessa didn’t need a plate full of leftovers, but she wouldn’t be impolite by turning it down. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention, and she wasn’t sure how to respond. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wished she’d had this kind of family growing up. But in that other place, the dark spot that colored her world in grays and browns, she figured she didn’t deserve this kind of family.

She wished someone had trained her in proper manners or on how to actually conduct small talk. She wished she’d been happy in any of the many places her mother had dragged her. She wished she’d had nice clothes and pretty things.

And she really wished she’d had someone to truly love her.

But she couldn’t change any of that now. Vanessa had learned about all of these things mostly on her own by studying people and reading books and watching television and movies. She’d learned how to dress by working in retail and devouring fashion magazines and with the help of her mother’s last husband, Richard Tucker, who’d taken them on shopping trips. And she’d learned how to stay on her budget by shopping vintage and reworking second-hand clothes.

She still had to learn the truly-loving-her part. She didn’t always love herself very much.

She sent Rory a brief glance and then dropped her gaze to her sandals.

“Hey, I’ll come by next week and help you out with getting ready for the estate sale,” Marla said as she hurried up to Vanessa. “I’ll even find some able-bodied helpers to do the heavy lifting.” She cast a glance toward Rory. “An estate sale is a big job.”

A job Vanessa dreaded. “Yes. But...it has to be done.”

“Are you gonna be okay, doing this?” Marla asked, her green eyes full of understanding and sympathy.

“I’ll be fine.” Vanessa glanced over to where Alec sat at a round wrought iron table with Rory. Were they actually having more cupcakes? “I have to get the house ready to sell, and I can’t do that until I empty it out.”

“Your mother was a pack rat from what I hear,” Marla said with a smile. “I know this has been hard, Vanessa.”

Vanessa nodded. “Yep. Especially since she and I never got along.” She stared at the swing, where she could be sitting right now with Rory. “I guess I’ll get to know her a little more now that she’s dead, at least. I never could figure her out when she was alive.”

“You did your best.”

“I left.”

It was that simple. She’d left after one divorce too many and after one particular stepfather’s bad behavior. It didn’t matter that her mother had tried to make amends to Vanessa after Cora had married Richard, her final husband. At least Richard had been kind to Vanessa during the short time she’d lived here with her mother and him. A good man, a very wealthy man, he’d paid off her mother’s house and shown both mother and daughter a world they’d only dreamed about. He’d died five years after marrying her mother.

None of it mattered now. She couldn’t live in her mother’s house.

She heard the preacher’s hearty laughter and stole another glance at him. “What’s with him, Marla? I asked you about his story, and I’d like to know more.”

Marla followed her gaze. “What makes you think he has a story?”

“We all do. You said he wasn’t always this happy.”

Marla shrugged. “I don’t know much other than he joined the army after attending seminary, served as a chaplain and then came home to become a minister. And I don’t ask beyond that. I’m not even sure Alec knows, but they have this buddy system that holds them all together and they don’t press each other about what they went through while serving. I can allow that, given how I held everything inside when Alec and I started seeing each other.”

“And now?”

Marla’s smile was serene and sure. “And now I tell Alec everything and he shares a lot with me. We’re good.”

“But he doesn’t talk about the preacher’s past?”

“Nope. It’s not his to talk about. But then, they were all over there serving our country in one capacity or another. It’s a bond they share.”

A bond that might not be broken, Vanessa decided. “I have to get going,” she said. “I had a great time.”

“I’m glad you came,” Marla said. She hugged Vanessa close.

“And if you ever need to talk—”

“I’ll call you,” Vanessa replied. She didn’t want to get emotional in front of everyone.

“Of course,” Marla said. Then she inclined her chin toward Rory. “But you should call him, too. No matter what you’ve been through, he’s the best person to listen and help you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Vanessa replied, remembering how he’d mentioned late-night calls from his congregation members. But she said it with a smile...and a shred of hope.

* * *

A few days later, Rory worked his way around the church yard, clearing away broken limbs and picking up palm fronds. A storm had moved over the area the night before, leaving debris in its wake. He didn’t mind the busywork, though. Not on a nice morning with a cool breeze pushing over the nearby waters of the lake. A few seagulls cawed at him as they came in for a low flight, probably hoping to find some morsels for breakfast.

After dropping some twigs and leaves into a nearby trash can, he stopped to look over the grounds. The little clapboard chapel had survived worse storms than this one. It was over a century old and not much bigger than a shotgun house, but the people of Millbrook Lake loved their church.

He loved it, too. Once he would have gone on by this place, but that Rory was long gone. This Rory loved this place. He stared out over the moss-draped live oaks that edged the old cemetery behind the church and prayed that he’d never have to be anywhere else.

Purple wisteria blossoms rained down each time the wind blew through the trees, their old vines wrapped like necklaces around the billowing oaks. The sound of the palms swaying in the breeze sang a comforting, serene tune. Blue jays and cardinals fussed at each other near the bird feeders one of the church members had built and hung near the pergola where people liked to hold picnics. And the ever-present, pesky squirrels chased each other through the trees with all the precision of drag-racing champions.

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