21

Hayley shut her accounting books and logged out of her computer. She’d stared at the same paragraph for…she looked at her watch…almost half an hour.

Max’s words ran in a loop and pushed everything else into the background. God saved you for a purpose. Read Ephesians.

Curiosity drew her to the nightstand. She picked up her Bible, settled onto the bed, and opened it. Hayley had to flip through many pages before she found Ephesians. She skimmed the first couple of verses until her eyes locked on words that seemed to jump from the page.

In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will…

She’d been adopted by God? Hayley leaned back against the pillows. How could it be?

Read it. Max’s words again.

She continued to read. Happiness began to bubble as she drank in the message God sent her.

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not of yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Max was right. God had had something for her to do. But what? She skimmed paragraphs that puzzled and thrilled her, until she reached chapter four. Then she inhaled sharply as the words leapt off the page.

Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.

That couldn’t be right. An image of Blake Horner, the father of her baby, with his arms around the wife he’d betrayed and concealed, filled her mind. Blake had used and discarded her. His deceit had nearly destroyed her—and had led to her baby’s death. Forgive Blake? Her gaze fell to the printed words once more.

…just as in Christ God forgave you.

A vehicle drove into the yard.

Hayley put the Bible back on the nightstand and hurried downstairs. Apprehension and hope battled, and Hayley wiped sweaty palms on her jeans as she slowed her pace.

A door slammed outside and footsteps sounded on the porch. She took a deep breath, anxious to see Franklin and Laureen’s faces.

The doorbell rang, and Hayley froze. Why would they ring their own doorbell? She swung the front door open. Blake Horner leaned against the doorway, a smirk on his handsome face.

Hayley shrank back as bile rose in her throat. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

He stepped inside and pulled her close, his mouth at her ear. “That’s the welcome I get? I’ve missed you.” He nuzzled her neck. “Why’d you run off? Took me forever to track you down.”

“Let. Me. Go.” She struggled, but his grip tightened, triggering panic. She twisted and shoved hard. “Get off me! What are you doing here? What do you want?”

Blake stumbled backward and banged into the still-open door. “Ow.” His eyes glittered as he came toward her again. “So, you want to play rough? Fine by me.”

Fear mutated to anger, and Hayley lifted her chin. “I don’t want to play at all. Go away, Blake. I have nothing to say to you.”

Forgive.

“Just leave.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. When people said you’d had a nervous breakdown, I stood up for you.” His lips twisted into a sneer. “Maybe I was wrong. You’re not the girl I knew.”

“No, I’m not. Thank God.”

Blake advanced again, and Hayley took a step back. “I don’t know how you found me, Blake, or why you’re here, but I have nothing to say to you.”

“You don’t mean that. Remember the good times we had? Or do you need a little reminder?”

The back door hinges squawked, and Roscoe ran into the room. He slid to a stop beside Hayley and stared at her nemesis, growling deep in his throat, his teeth bared.

Blake’s pupils widened, and he raised both hands in front of him, palms out. “Nice doggy. Sit, boy.”

Roscoe leaned forward and half crouched, ready to pounce.

“Call him off, will you?” Blake’s voice squeaked like a teenager’s.

Max appeared on the other side of Hayley. “Problem?” How did such a big man move so silently?

“No, Blake was just leaving.” Hayley’s relief wobbled her smile.

Blake shoved his hands in his pockets. “But I do need to talk to you, Hayley. And I’m not giving up.” He skulked out the door and ran toward his low-slung car. A moment later, tires spun on gravel as the car accelerated.

Hayley pushed the door shut, turned, and leaned against it. “Thank you, Max.”

Roscoe sidled up to her and nudged her leg with his nose. Hayley grinned and ruffled his ears. “You too, boy. Good dog.” Tears filled her eyes. “Thank you both. My guardian angels.”

Something glinted in Max’s expression, but it disappeared just as quickly.

Gravel crunched under car tires.

Hayley tensed.

Max moved to the window. “Franklin and Laureen.”

“Good.” Hayley let out a long breath and rubbed her face. But then her heart clutched again. “I wonder what the doctor said.”

“Who’s in charge, Miss Hayley?” Max moved to open the door.

She inhaled deeply, and her fear dissipated. “God.”

“’Nuff said.” The big man turned, stared outside for a long moment, and then ran down the steps.

~*~

Trevor set down his wrench and glanced up. Should be quitting time, but not today. His unfinished custom bike was sold, so now he had to get it done. If he could get the mock-up done to ensure all the parts fit together, tomorrow he could send everything to be painted or chromed. Sweat beaded on his brow. If anything went wrong at this stage, he’d never finish in time.

“Closin’ time, T.” Carlos leaned against the workbench holding Trevor’s bike frame. “Working late again?”

“Yeah. Gotta get this thing done.”

Carlos shrugged. “It’s not mandatory, you know. Ryan or I could finish it up. The design is yours, no matter who puts the parts together.”

Trevor picked up the wrench again. “I know.” He stared at the wrench. “Maybe it’s pride, but I want to be the one to finish it. Since it’s my last project here.”

Carlos nodded, but the lines beside his mouth deepened. “I guess it will be.”

Trevor’s shoulders sagged and guilt ate at his gut. He rubbed it with his arm.

Carlos slapped him on the back. “Well, you still need to eat. How’s Italian sound? My treat.”

Maybe that hollow sensation wasn’t guilt. He nodded. “Great. I could go for some lasagna.”

“All right. Let me lock the front, and we can take my truck.”

Trevor frowned. “That’s not necessary. Then you’d have to bring me back here. I can drive.”

“No problem. Gives us more time to talk.”

Trevor’s stomach clenched. A few minutes later, Trevor leaned back against the heated leather seat in Carlos’s GMC half ton. The warmth worked its magic, and within a couple minutes Trevor’s knotted muscles began to relax. “Man, this is nice. My next vehicle’s got to have heated seats.”

Carlos grinned as he turned onto Idylwyld Drive. “You get used to it real quick.” His grin faded. “Some things are easier to get used to than others.”

A small car swung into their lane without signaling, and Carlos stomped on the brake.

The seatbelt dug into Trevor’s chest, but the lack of cursing from Carlos impacted him harder. Trevor stared at his mentor. “You really have changed. A few months ago the air in here would be dark blue.”

Carlos snorted. “Thank God.”

Trevor’s mind wrestled with questions. And frustration. “You said you wanted to talk. What about?”

Carlos slowed and flicked on the turn signal. “Almost there now. It’ll wait until we’ve ordered.”

Fine. Carlos was still boss, so Trevor would play it his way. He didn’t speak again until after Carlos led the way to a booth near the back of the family-run Italian restaurant.

A perky blonde grinned a thousand-watt smile as she placed menus in front of them. “What can I get for you gentlemen this evening? Water, coffee, tea, beer? Or something else?”

“Lasagna and coffee for me, thanks.”

“Same here.”

The girl took the menus. “OK, then. I’ll be right back with your coffees. Cream?”

“Just black, please.”

“Cream for me, thanks,” Carlos said. As the waitress flounced away, Carlos smirked. “And another heart gets broken by the T-Man.”

Trevor grimaced. “Give me a break. She wants a big tip is all. Probably works for her most of the time.”

Carlos grinned even wider. “Worked with you, until recently. Something to do with a certain redhead?”

Trevor was not going there. “So what did you want to talk about?” he asked, his tone wary.

“You. And I’ve got some news too. Your choice. Which subject first?”

Curiosity won. “What’s your news?”

Carlos didn’t answer right away. He stroked his goatee, looked out the window, and released a well-deep sigh.

Trevor lifted one eyebrow. “Well?”

Carlos didn’t meet Trevor’s gaze. “You remember Eva.”

How could anyone at Easy Rider forget Carlos’s ex-wife? The last time he’d seen her, she’d been screaming at Carlos, hands gesturing wildly as invectives had filled the shop. Not a pleasant reminder.

Carlos seemed to be waiting for an answer, so Trevor nodded and wondered what she’d done now.

The lines on Carlos’s face softened, and his mouth curved upward. “We’re gonna try again.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Truth. Turns out, I’m not the only one God’s been working on. Eva phoned last week, and we’ve been talking. Lots of apologies, some hints of hope.”

“When I came to your office. That was Eva on the phone?”

“Sure was. We’re meeting Good Friday at her church for a drama they’re putting on. I can hardly believe it.”

Surprise didn’t even come close to the whirl in Trevor’s brain. Stunned. That summed it up. “Sounds good, man. I’m happy for you.”

“God is doing some amazing stuff, T.”

That smile on Carlos’s face made Trevor squirm as he braced for another sermon.

“Now I’ve got some questions for you.”

“Shoot.”

“Have you talked much to Nate Smith?”

Trevor jerked in shock. “Some. He offered me room and board. Nice house, great deal, not too far from Lowrider. Why?”

“He called me, and we talked quite a while. About you. About Lowrider and Vince Starr.”

“And?” Trevor frowned. Maybe those rumbles of unease meant something after all.

“Seemed a little odd. I mean, Smith sounded like an up-front kind of guy, and I got a good vibe from him. But he asked more about you than Starr had. Questions about your integrity, your beliefs. Starr only wanted to know how well you obeyed orders and if you caused problems.” Carlos fiddled with his knife and fork, and when he looked up, concern shone from his face. “I don’t know what’s going on at Lowrider, but I sure got the impression something’s not right. So tell me, T, are you totally sure this is the right move for you?”

Images flashed. His parents, the farm, Hayley, the unease he’d felt after the interview with Vince Starr. Carlos and his friendship. Then once more, his mom and dad. How selfish was he? He rubbed his chin and sighed. “No, I’m not sure. But I gave my word.”