The Protector's Promise. Shirlee McCoy

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      Frustrated with herself, she put the car into Drive and started toward home, fear still pounding a hollow beat in her throat. “Lord, I need Your help pulling myself together. I can’t afford to be afraid all the time. Not when the girls are depending on me. Not when I know You’re in control.”

      She muttered the prayer as she drove along the winding road that led home, the sense of peace she always felt when bringing her problems to God filling her. No matter what her troubles, her faith had always carried her through. These new challenges and new worries would be handled with the same firm trust in God that she’d always had.

      And she would get through them.

      She would.

      She pulled up in front of the bungalow, forcing herself to relax and enjoy the sight of the little house.

      A house on a quiet street.

      She’d dreamed of it for years, and now she had it. She wouldn’t let the past steal the pleasure of achieving what she’d longed for.

      The door creaked as she opened it, the light from a small table lamp welcoming her home. Candace’s doing, of course. In the five years since the teenager had moved in with Honor, Candace had worked hard to be a productive member of the family. While other teenagers partied and rebelled, Candace studied hard and helped around the house. After Jay’s death, when Honor had been at the end of her pregnancy and overwhelmed with the prospect of raising a child alone, Candace had promised to do whatever she could to help out. She’d been true to her word, never once complaining when she’d had to rush home to babysit Lily while Honor worked. Even now, when she could easily exert her independence, insist on living on campus away from her rambunctious niece, she’d chosen to live at home and continue to help out. Honor would miss her when she finally made her step into independent living.

      “Mommy?” Lily’s loud whisper came from the dark hall, and Honor tensed. She’d been praying for a few hours of sleep before her little girl woke up. Apparently she wasn’t going to get them. She shrugged out of her coat and turned to face her daughter.

      “Sweetheart, what are you doing up?”

      “I have to tell you something.”

      “At three-thirty in the morning?”

      “It’s important, Mommy.” Lily bounded toward her, the pink nightgown she wore brushing the floor as she moved, her wild curls bouncing.

      Honor lifted her, inhaling the sweet smell of innocence and life. “Okay. So tell me. Then we’re both getting into bed.”

      “I’ve been thinking about something.” Lily put her hand on Honor’s face and stared into her eyes, the deep blue of her gaze so similar to Jay’s it made Honor’s throat tighten.

      “About what?”

      “About the prince.”

      Honor bit back impatience and answered in a quiet tone. She and her daughter had had this conversation too many times over the past two days. “Lily Mae, what did we decide before I left for work?”

      “That there wasn’t a prince.”

      “Then there’s nothing to talk about, is there?”

      “But, Mommy, there is. There really truly is. He was right here in our house, and he must be a prince because he lives in that big castle.”

      “That isn’t a castle. It’s just a big house. And Mr. Sinclair is not prince. He’s a man.”

      “Princes are men.”

      Honor sighed, setting her daughter down. “Yes, but not every man is a prince. Some are just men. Some are even frogs dressed up as men.”

      As she’d hoped, the idea caught her imaginative daughter’s attention, and Lily laughed. “You’re very silly, Mommy.”

      “And so are you to be thinking we have a prince living in our backyard.”

      “Not our backyard. In his house. Only I think it isn’t a house. I think it’s a castle.”

      “And I think it is not. So that is the last we’ll say about it tonight. Come on. Back to bed with you.” She took her daughter’s hand and began leading her down the hall, but Lily was her father’s daughter, and she wasn’t willing to give up her dream.

      “Can we go there and visit? Maybe we can find his crown. Then we’ll know he’s really a prince.”

      “No, we can not. Mr. Sinclair is a busy man. He doesn’t have time to entertain us.”

      “But—”

      “Listen, my sweet, don’t the princes in fairy tales always ride white horses?”

      “Yes.”

      “And have you seen any white horses around here?”

      “No.”

      “Then there can’t be any princes around, either, can there?” It was twisted logic, but if it worked, Honor would use it.

      “Maybe—”

      “Maybe we should stop talking and go to sleep.”

      “But I’m not tired.”

      Honor shook her head and pressed a finger to her daughter’s lips. “Maybe you aren’t, but I am. I worked for a very long time today, remember?”

      “Yes.”

      “And now it’s time for me to sleep so that I can be ready to do lots of fun things with you and Candace later on.”

      “Like go to the library?”

      “Exactly like that.” Honor started down the hall again, stopping when Candace peeked out of her room.

      “Is everything okay?” Candace’s voice was husky from sleep.

      “Yes. Lily just needed to talk to me.”

      “Not about Prince Sinclair, I hope.” Candace wrinkled her nose, and shot a disgruntled look in Lily’s direction. “Didn’t I tell you not to bug your mother about that?”

      “I wasn’t, Aunt Candy. Really.”

      “Yeah? So why are we all awake when we should be sleeping?” Candace ruffled Lily’s hair and met Honor’s gaze. “Sorry about this.”

      “Why should you be sorry? You weren’t the one waiting up for me with dreams in your eyes.” Honor smiled at her sister-in-law and pushed open the door to the room she shared with Lily.

      “Yeah, but I am the one who keeps bringing books of fairy tales home from the library. Listen, why don’t you sleep in a little today? I don’t have school, so I can watch Lily until you’re ready to get up.”

      “Candace, you’ve watched her every night this week. I can’t ask you to do more.”

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