Georgia Sweethearts. Missy Tippens

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      “They’ve given her an antidote that’s been pretty successful in similar cases. We have to wait. And pray. Please get Miss Ann to start the prayer chain.”

      “I will. I’m on my way.” Lord, protect Cricket and the baby. Please let this treatment work.

      Lilly stood beside him, her arms hugged around her waist. “What happened?”

      “I need to head to the hospital. A teenage girl from the church is in the ER.”

      “Do you need a ride?” she asked without any hesitation. A woman who saw a need and jumped in with a solution.

      He started to decline, but the offer would save time since he’d walked to town that morning. “Thanks.”

      They rushed to the car. Lilly backed out of the parking spot, and they sped toward Appleton. He called his grandmother and filled her in, asking her to get the town praying.

      “The situation sounds awful. Anything I can do to help?” Lilly asked.

      “Nothing. Unless you feel led to pray.”

      Sick at heart, he stared out the window as they zipped past The Yarn Barn. Surely he could’ve done more. Could have done something besides set up another meeting for next week. Maybe if he’d called her that morning like he’d meant to...

      Except for his brief directions to the hospital, they drove the next ten minutes in silence.

      “I hope she’ll be okay,” Lilly said.

      The hospital came into sight. He pointed her toward the emergency entrance. “She’s fifteen and pregnant. And I failed her.”

      “I don’t know the whole situation.” She reached out and touched his sleeve. “But I know you care. I’m sure that helps. More than you probably realize.”

      As the car came to a stop out front, their eyes locked, her compassionate gaze soothing him, making him wish for... But at the moment, he had no time for wishing.

      He gave her hand a squeeze, a thank-you for understanding him, and then climbed out.

      “Wait. Here’s my phone number.” She jotted it on a piece of scrap paper out of her purse. “Call me when you’re ready to leave. Any time, even if it’s late.”

      Touched by her offer, he took the paper. “Thanks for bringing me.”

      “I’m sure you’ll be a comfort to the girl’s family.”

      He shut the door and hurried through the ER entrance. A comfort? How much good was he as a pastor if he hadn’t been able to help Cricket see God was big enough to handle her problems, that God had a plan for her life?

      Mrs. Quincy paced the floor, a tissue wadded up between her hands, her face streaked with tears. Her pain enough to bring him to his knees, he repeated the prayer circulating in his head. Lord, don’t let Cricket die. Protect her baby.

      He steeled his spine and crossed the waiting room, determined to do more for the hurting teenagers. The kids God had led him to in Corinthia and the neighboring Appleton community had many problems—family struggles, run-ins with the law, failure in school. And Cricket wasn’t the only pregnant high schooler.

      He couldn’t let them down.

      The problem was, he was good at starting churches, good at preaching, good at planning outreach ministries. But apparently, when it came to helping the hurting, he fell short.

      The pain on Lilly’s face whenever she mentioned her childhood etched itself into his brain.

      He had to steer clear of beautiful, thoughtful Lilly. Or he would let her down, as well.

      Chapter Three

      Lilly couldn’t help but worry about Cricket. Yet she was glad she’d been able to take Daniel there, to support her family. He seemed to think he’d failed, but all she saw was a man who cared. Who did what he could to help. Like pray.

      The fact Daniel and others, including Ann, were praying for the teen, somehow soothed Lilly.

      Thinking of Ann reminded Lilly she needed to ask her to teach knitting classes, so instead of stopping at The Yarn Barn, she bypassed it and headed to town. On the way, she watched for the signage problems Daniel had mentioned.

      How had she not noticed that in one direction, they had no store sign at all, and the other, the wooden sign was partially covered? She would have to rectify the situation soon.

      When Ann answered her front door, she looked surprised, then pleased. “Lilly, I’m glad you came for the prayer vigil.”

      Alarm shot through her. “Uh...no. I actually came to ask a huge favor.”

      “I’ll help however I can.”

      She decided to be direct, honest. “I desperately need your assistance, and Daniel suggested I contact you. I can’t knit or crochet, and we need to start holding classes to build community, to keep the business afloat.”

      Silence. Not good.

      “Could you teach? I’ll offer you half the class tuition,” Lilly said quickly. “And you can pick your hours.”

      “Oh, it’s not the money. I’d be delighted to teach one class a week. But aren’t you going to rent out the basement to Daniel? That income would surely help more than one of my classes.”

      Lilly’s heart sank. She’d hoped Ann might teach two or three. “I’m still going through Aunt Talitha’s records and am considering renting to the church. If you could teach a class or two, I’d be grateful.”

      “I think I could manage one every Thursday afternoon. But please take advantage of the rental income.” Ann put a firm hand on Lilly’s shoulder and gave what she suspected was a stern grandmotherly look. “I’m sure Talitha would want you to honor her agreement with Daniel.”

      Embarrassment stung Lilly’s face. “You’re right.” Besides, if Ann was only willing to teach one class, they would need that rent money. “Thanks for offering to teach. You’re a lifesaver.”

      The woman’s expression morphed into pure happiness. “Good, then. It’s settled.”

      As Lilly drove back to The Yarn Barn, she made plans to locate and organize the tax documents, to try to make sense of all the accountant had told her.

      And to inform her sister they would have tenants.

      When Lilly walked in the shop, her sister met her at the door.

      “The supplier called, the one Aunt Talitha has had for ages. He found out she died, and that you and I placed the recent large order. He’s demanding a big payment next week.”

      Her stomach sank to her toes. “Next week?” The word week ended on a squeak. “He always let Talitha pay over ninety days.”

      Tears filled Jenna’s eyes. “I don’t СКАЧАТЬ