For all his talk about being willing to wait for a wife and family that would eventually come, the fact of the matter was simple: Gabriel Dawson was lonely.
Not the sort of loneliness that made people do irrational and potentially dangerous things. He instead suffered from the same affliction that plagued a lot of single people his age: the “no one to talk to at the end of the day” blues.
That just wasn’t the sort of thing a single minister liked to broadcast, particularly given the matchmaking penchant of some of his parishioners.
FAITH ON THE LINE:
Two powerful families wage war on evil…and find love.
ADAM’S PROMISE—
Gail Gaymer Martin (LI #259)
FINDING AMY—
Carol Steward (LI #263)
GABRIEL’S DISCOVERY—
Felicia Mason (LI #267)
REDEEMING TRAVIS—
Kate Welsh (LI #271)
PETER’S RETURN—
Cynthia Cooke (LI #275)
PROTECTING HOLLY—
Lynn Bulock (LI #279)
is a motivational speaker and award-winning author. She’s a two-time winner of the Waldenbooks BestSelling Multicultural Title Award, has received awards from Romantic Times, Affaire de Coeur and Midwest Fiction Writers, and won the Emma Award in 2001 for her work in the bestselling anthology Della’s House of Style. Glamour magazine readers named her first novel, For the Love of You, one of their all-time favorite love stories, and her novel Rhapsody was made into a television film.
Felicia has been a writer as long as she can remember, and loves creating characters who seem as real as your best friends. A former Sunday school teacher, she makes her home in Virginia, where she enjoys quilting, reading, traveling and listening to all types of music. She can be reached at P.O. Box 1438, Dept. SH, Yorktown, VA 23692.
For my FAITH ON THE LINE editors and sister authors:
Carol, Cynthia, Diane, Gail, Kate, Krista, Lynn
To God belong wisdom and power; counsel and understanding are His…. He reveals the deep things of darkness and brings deep shadows into the light.
—Job 12:13 and 22
Susan Carter—The widowed single mom is busy running the Galilee Women’s Shelter and raising twins. She doesn’t have time for romance…until she meets the new pastor.
Gabriel Dawson—Good Shepherd’s new pastor is tall, dark and handsome, setting the hearts of many female parishioners aflutter. But he only has eyes for one woman.
Hannah and Sarah Carter—Susan’s six-year-old twins want a daddy, and they’ve found the perfect man for the job!
Evie—The battered woman in expensive clothes who’d arrived at the shelter one night brought more danger than anyone had expected.
Frank Montgomery—The mayor of Colorado Springs joins Gabriel in a city-wide prayer vigil to pray for peace in his troubled city.
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
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Gabriel Dawson definitely had a way with the ladies.
From her vantage point standing near a booth selling warm kettle corn, Susan Carter watched the minister work the crowd. Every gray-haired matron at the annual Labor Day picnic in the park managed to find her way to Gabriel. And with good reason.
The Reverend Gabriel Dawson, M. Div., former marine and current pastor of Good Shepherd Christian Church, undoubtedly claimed a spot as one of Colorado Springs’s most eligible bachelors.
Every one of those mamas and grandmamas fawning over him knew it, too. In the time since she’d started her vigil, Susan had spied more than one matron slip the minister a business card or a photo, undoubtedly with full dossiers printed in miniature listing the many and varied accomplishments of their single daughters, granddaughters and nieces.
For just a moment, Susan considered approaching him about participating in the fund-raiser for the women’s shelter. The event could use a bachelor in the auction who would guarantee active and high bidding. Her friend and co-worker Jessica Mathers had already secured a number of impressive date packages for the gala that would benefit the Galilee Women’s Shelter. If he’d agree to it, Gabriel Dawson sure would be an attractive addition.
She assessed him. Handsome didn’t even come close to describing the man.
Tall, at least six-three, and muscular, Gabriel was a big man who inspired confidence just by looking at him. Though named for the archangel devoted to God, the penetrating black eyes and well-groomed shadow beard and mustache of this earthly Gabriel gave him dark good looks.
No, Susan decided. When she called on the good reverend to lend his support to her cause, it wouldn’t be for a one-night gig enjoyed only by a single highest bidder. She wanted far more from him than a smile and to see that powerful physique decked out in black-tie.
But my, my, my what a sight that would be.
Suddenly a little warm, Susan fanned herself with one of the programs distributed at the picnic entrance. She had to remember to stay focused on the mission. Reverend Dawson couldn’t be a date for the shelter’s fund-raiser. That would never do because Susan wanted something more from him—she was in the market for a long-term commitment.
From the corner of his eye, Gabriel watched Susan Carter scoping him out. She’d been at it for a while now, and he was mighty curious about what she was thinking.
“And I just think it would be wonderful to have you over for dinner after church this Sunday, Pastor.”
“Yes, that sounds lovely,” he answered Mrs. Hardy with a pat to the elderly woman’s hand. With most of his attention on Susan, Gabriel lent just half an ear to sweet Mrs. Hardy, a longtime member of the church.
“We eat at four o’clock,” she said. “And my lovely granddaughter Samantha will be visiting that day from Denver. Won’t that be nice? She’s a doctor, you know. A pediatrician. She loves children.”
The not-so-subtle hint and definite accent on that last part gave him pause.
With a sinking feeling, Gabriel turned his full attention to Mrs. Hardy. Had he just agreed to have dinner with her and her family, including someone named Samantha?
By necessity, in his nine months at Good Shepherd, he’d gotten rather adept at avoiding the obvious setups from his parishioners. It seemed they all wanted to see him walking down the aisle with a bride they could claim as first lady of the church. He wasn’t the first pastor of color for the diverse congregation, but he was the first single one they’d ever had. His lack of a spouse apparently didn’t sit well with some. They wanted to see their pastor happily married, and from the look of things the last few months, there existed a never-ending supply of would-be brides.
The only problem with the plans laid out for him by others was that Gabriel had no intention of getting married that way. He firmly and steadfastly believed that a wife and children were in his future, but it would be in God’s time. He would be equally yoked with the woman the Lord designated for him, not one offered up like a sacrificial lamb or an item at the all-you-can-eat buffet.
To date, he’d been presented with a dizzying array of blondes, brunettes and redheads of all shapes, sizes and ethnic backgrounds, from athletic tomboys to full-figured models. Counted in the number were teachers and lawyers, a florist, an Olympic gymnast, even a bestselling romance author.
For Gabriel, though, what a woman did for a living and what her outer package looked like didn’t matter nearly as much as her inside.
Did she have a one-on-one relationship with God? Was she a prayer warrior, someone who understood the power of prayer? Did she put her faith and her walk with the Lord above all else? Those things mattered to Gabriel.
Once before, he’d almost made the mistake of marrying to please others. The engagement to Mikki Metz had lasted all of six weeks before they both realized they were about to make a really big mistake.
No, siree, he thought as he nodded at Mrs. Hardy. He’d dodged bullets and land mines in the first Gulf War; surely he could dodge a few well-meaning matchmaking members of his congregation.
But first, it looked like he’d be having dinner at Mrs. Hardy’s home on Sunday afternoon.
“You won’t forget now, will you, Pastor Gabriel?”
He smiled at the dear old lady, who was all of four foot eleven. “I won’t. I’ll make a note of it in my appointment book.”
She beamed up at him. “Wonderful. I’m sure you and Samantha will have a lot to talk about. You have very much in common.”
Gabriel doubted it, but kept that thought to himself as Mrs. Hardy bid him farewell for the afternoon.
Two more members of Good Shepherd, both of whom had single daughters, were making a beeline for him. Gabriel wasn’t a coward by any stretch of the imagination, but today he decided retreat was, indeed, the better part of valor.
His gaze drifted to Susan Carter. Now, there stood a woman he could appreciate. Her bright smile and corkscrew curls appealed to him. Finding out why she seemed so interested in him today was preferable to sidestepping another offer of pot roast and apple pie.
Susan watched him duck and evade the latest salvos. As she turned to check on her girls, she smiled, first at the minister’s efforts to get away from his members, then at the antics of her twins. They, along with several other children, ran around the church lawn chasing a multicolored wind sock held high and circled overhead by the church’s youth minister.
She felt more than heard Gabriel approach.
“It’s all your fault,” he said softly. His voice, a rich tenor with just a smidgen of something southern lingering in the accent, washed over her, doing things it shouldn’t…like making her wish she didn’t have a bone to pick with him.
“I beg your pardon?”
Gabriel Dawson stood right next to her, almost crowding her personal space.
“It’s your fault I now have a Sunday dinner engagement. You distracted me.”
A part of Susan thrilled at his words. To make that claim, he had to have been watching her as closely as she watched him. But that, of course, was ridiculous. Susan knew the caliber of women who were after him—women who had a lot more going for them than being a single mother and the widow of a drug addict who didn’t even have a home she could call her own.
Then she saw the teasing light in his eyes, the twitch of a grin at his mouth and she had to laugh in response.
“Well, if all it takes is somebody looking at you to get you distracted, Reverend, you might need a few lessons in how to focus.”
“And are you teaching those classes?”
Susan blinked. Was he flirting with her?
Before she had the chance to decide, Hannah and Sarah ran up. Breathless, the twins tried to talk over each other.
“There’s a juggler!”
“Can we go?”
“It’s right over there.”
“Ooh, look, he’s starting!”
“Whoa, ladies,” Susan said, putting an arm around the shoulders of each girl. They were decked out in identical sweatshirts, jeans and sneakers. “Did you forget something?”
The six-year-olds spared a moment to look up. “Hi, Pastor Gabriel,” they said, their voices echoing off each other. “Can we go now, Mom? Pleeease.”
Susan nodded and the twins jumped up and down.
“Hold hands,” Susan called to their backs, the girls already heading across the lawn to a spot where a juggler on stilts had begun to perform in front of an excited crowd of children and teenagers.
Laughing, Gabriel watched Susan’s daughters holding hands as they ran, long beaded braids flying behind. “Your daughters are a delight, Mrs. Carter.”
“More like a handful,” she said. “And why don’t you call me Susan.”
“I will,” he said with a smile.
Susan spent a moment regretting that he wouldn’t be one of the bachelors up for auction at the fund-raising gala the following weekend. Forget the fantasy dates Jessica had set up; she’d make a generous donation to her own cause just to watch this man smile.
“Only if you’ll call me Gabriel.”
“It’s a deal,” she said. “Though I’m not in the habit of calling clergy members by their first names.”
“Then don’t think of me as clergy.”
She raised an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to accomplish that?” Like a game-show hostess displaying the grand prize for correctly answering the bonus-round question, she swept her hand in front of her. “Look at this. We’re at your church’s annual Labor Day picnic. The church is right over there with your name displayed—in rather large letters, I might say.” The church with its stained glass windows was a centerpiece in the neighborhood.
Gabriel chuckled. “I had nothing to do with that sign.”
A huge red-and-white banner welcomed members and friends to the church picnic. Gabriel’s name was printed almost as big as the church’s.
“Do you mind if we stroll that way? I want to keep an eye on the girls.” She didn’t wait for his answer, but started moving in the direction of the entertainer so she could see Hannah and Sarah.
“They’re identical,” Gabriel said. “How do you tell them apart?”
“I’m the mom, I’m supposed to.”
“I bet you get that a lot with twins.”
Susan’s answer got interrupted.
“Hey, Pastor Gabriel. Wait!” The kettle corn vendor ran around his booth with a big bag of the sweetly flavored popcorn in hand. “Here you go. For you and your pretty lady.”
Susan flushed and found herself grateful that her dark skin concealed most of the blush. Gabriel glanced at her and smiled, but he didn’t correct the concessionaire.
He instead dug in his pocket for money, but the vendor shook his head.
“No charge, Pastor. We just want to thank you for letting us set up shop here this year. Business has been great all day. The missus and I are gonna come to one of your services this Sunday.”
“Glad to hear it,” Gabriel said, shaking the man’s hand. “I’ll look for you. And we’re pleased to have you with us today.” He nodded toward two couples who approached with money at the ready for kettle corn. “Looks like you have some more business headed your way.” He lifted the bag of popcorn. “Thanks again.”
“Anytime, Reverend. Nice to meet you, ma’am,” the vendor said to Susan, who simply smiled.
Gabriel offered the bag to Susan. She opened her mouth to ask him why he hadn’t disabused the man of the notion that they were a couple, then decided that to call attention to it would only be…what? More embarrassing? So instead of saying anything, she accepted some of the treat he presented.
“Mmm. This is good.” She looked back at the booth. The vendor waved and she waved back. “I’ll have to remember to get some for the girls.”
As they strolled across the lawn, several people called out to either Susan or Gabriel as they passed.
“You’re quite a celebrity here,” he said. “It seems like everyone knows you.”
“Does that make you uncomfortable?”
He gave her an odd look, and Susan regretted the challenging tone she’d taken with him.
Then he smiled. “No. I like strong women.”
Susan hid a smile by taking another nibble of popcorn.
“I’m actually glad you came over,” she said. “I wanted to speak with you about something.”
“Hi there, Pastor Gabriel,” said a man who touched the brim of his Denver Broncos cap in greeting as he passed. “Great picnic.”
“Thanks, nice seeing you, John.”
“You’re the popular one,” Susan observed.
Good Shepherd Christian Church’s Labor Day picnic had grown into something of a tradition for members of the congregation as well as the community. The church stocked what seemed like an endless supply of hot dogs, hamburgers, chips and soft drinks. Picnic-goers could then purchase other treats, like kettle corn and cotton candy, or T-shirts and other mementos from vendors set up on two sides of the church’s lawn. Entertainment and games claimed the other. From horseshoes to volleyball, the picnic included a little something for everyone.
The afternoon would close with a concert by a popular Christian recording artist. Most people would later make their way downtown for the city’s big fireworks display.
“New preacher giving away free food,” Gabriel said. “What’s not to like?”
Susan chuckled. “The hard times will come later, huh?”
“Like death and taxes. So, you said you wanted to speak with me about something.”
Enjoying the light moments with him, Susan found herself reluctant to end the easy companionship, but she had business to tend to, business that directly involved Reverend Dawson.
He was popular and bright. That’s why she didn’t understand why in all his outreach efforts to date, he hadn’t stopped by or inquired about Galilee.
“You’ve been here almost a year now,” she said.
Gabriel nodded. “Nine months.”
“You’ve done a lot in the community. I’ve seen your name on several boards and you’ve started a couple of outreach ministries.”
He glanced at her. “I’m hearing a ‘but’ coming.”
Susan had the grace to smile. “But you’ve missed a big pocket of the community.”
They’d reached the edge of the entertainment area where the juggler on stilts tossed six wooden pins in the air. Susan spotted her girls, who had somehow managed to creep to the front of the semicircle.
“And what pocket is that?”
“Women in need.”
He looked at her then, wondering if he should read a dual message in her comment. “What, specifically, do you mean?”
“I’d like to show you our facility,” she said. “Why don’t you stop by the Galilee shelter and let me show you around?”
“You’re the director there, right?”
Susan nodded.
“I’d be glad to put it in my book,” he told her. “I’ll have Karen schedule it. Maybe I’ll stop by in a couple of months. What I’ve been trying to do first is get a feel for the larger community, some of the broader issues that have the biggest impact not only on members of Good Shepherd, but the people who live in the area that the church serves.”
Susan bristled at his implication that abused women didn’t rank very high on his priority or impact list.
That was the problem she had with him. Her goal today was to get him to commit to visiting the shelter. Once he saw for himself the work that was done there, she hoped he’d make a long-term commitment to the shelter’s mission.
On several occasions, her director of development had tried to get an appointment with him, but either his secretary always brushed Jessica off or her calls went unanswered. So, as director of the women’s shelter, Susan took matters in her own hands. She’d brought her girls to the picnic so they could have some fun, but her job today was to waylay the good reverend and make him see the error of his neglectful ways—at least where Galilee Women’s Shelter was concerned.
“Reverend Dawson, I think you’ll change your mind when you see what we’re doing at Galilee.”
“You’re not going to stop until I say yes, are you.”
“Now you’re getting the idea,” she said.
He smiled. “All right, then. I will come by.”
Susan wanted to dance a jig. With the newest pastor in town also supporting the effort, maybe something could be done about the problems plaguing the city—in particular, areas near Good Shepherd.
She knew how to close a deal, too. “How about tomorrow morning?”
Gabriel laughed. “I have appointments all day.”
She looked doubtful.
“Really. I do,” he said.
“Then what about—”
“How about Wednesday?” he suggested. “Ten o’clock?”
Susan’s smile for him was bright. She caught herself before she said It’s a date. “I’ll see you then.”
Neither Susan nor Gabriel knew how much attention their stroll across the lawn of Good Shepherd garnered among onlookers. Jessica in particular noticed as her daughter Amy dashed ahead to catch some of the juggling act. Jessica nudged her fiancé, Sam Vance.
“I told you they were seeing each other. Susan plays things so close to the vest.”
Sam looked in the direction she indicated. “There you go again, honey. Just because we’re about to tie the knot doesn’t mean everyone else is headed down the aisle, too. Knowing Susan, she’s probably trying to talk him into being on the shelter’s board of directors or giving a donation to Galilee. You are in the middle of a big fund-raising drive.”
Jessica considered that. “You could be right,” she conceded. “But I doubt it,” she muttered as she watched her pastor and her boss laugh together, sharing a bag of popcorn.
She eyed Sam as an idea began to form—a deliciously naughty idea. She’d have to work fast and get some help to pull it off, though. And she knew just who she could tap to make it happen.
Gabriel had big plans for the church he’d recently been called to pastor. Colorado Springs was a beautiful city with clean streets, fresh air and plenty of outdoor activities to keep people engaged in wholesome fun.
But since his arrival at Good Shepherd, a dark cloud had descended over the city. He’d been to three city council meetings as well as a citizen’s watch session in his own gated neighborhood. The one question on everyone’s minds was how to combat the effects of a crime and drug spree that seemed to have blanketed the city almost overnight.
Part of his mission was to create a better quality of life for his congregation. For Gabriel, spirituality was included in quality of life.
As he walked over to greet the recording artist who’d perform the afternoon concert, he thought about Susan Carter. If nothing else, she was persistent and dedicated. However, he seriously doubted that one little shelter could play a big role in revitalizing the city. He looked forward to seeing her again—even though he had no intention whatsoever of telling her why he’d really been ducking calls from her agency.
Her mission accomplished, Susan enjoyed the rest of the afternoon with the girls. As they headed across to the parking lot, she glanced down at the unusually quiet twins. One thing she’d definitely grown used to was their constant chatter. They talked about any—and everything—all the time. And the questions! Everything they saw, heard or even thought about came out in the form of questions. They kept Susan on her toes.
But now they walked in silence.
“All right,” she said. “What’s up? Didn’t you guys have a good time? You were singing along during the concert.”
“We had a good time,” Hannah said, her voice slow and quiet.
“Yeah,” Sarah agreed, equally as unenthusiastic.
“Then why the long faces and the silent treatment? I’m not used to that.”
The girls looked at each other, then paused.
Concerned now, Susan stopped and stooped so she was eye level with her girls. “Hannah? Sarah?”
“Mommy,” Sarah began. “You know how you’re always telling us—”
“—to look for the signs that somebody’s getting hurt?” Hannah finished.
Susan nodded. She’d be remiss as a mom and as the director of a women’s shelter if her own children didn’t know what to look out for. She didn’t want them growing up the way she did, then as an adult making the same kinds of bad choices or living in an abusive relationship.
The girls both bit their bottom lips, mirror images of each other. Susan tried to tamp down the panic she suddenly felt. If anyone had hurt her girls…
“Mommy?” Hannah’s voice trembled.
Susan gathered both girls in her arms. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” she told them. “I promise.”
Sarah was crying now. Seeing her sister cry made Hannah cry, too. Susan’s heart was beating a thousand miles a minute. She held them too tight, but their distress freaked her out.
“Tell me what happened, girls. Please.”
“It’s Jasmine,” Hannah said, choking back tears. Both girls clung to Susan as tightly as she held them.
Caught up in scenarios that ranged from someone inappropriately touching the girls to an all-out assault on one or both of them, Susan didn’t hear the name.
What if someone at the picnic had tried to kidnap them? “Shh,” she said, trying to calm herself as much as she did them. Few things rattled her twin dynamos, so this rated all the more frightening. “Tell Mommy what happened, okay?”
“It’s Jasmine,” Sarah repeated, pulling a long braid over her shoulder and sticking a purple bead in her mouth. “She’s over there.”
Susan turned in the direction that both girls pointed. “Jasmine? A classmate from school?”
The girls nodded.
Though still concerned, Susan wanted to weep in relief. She instead swallowed and took a deep, balancing breath. “What’s wrong with Jasmine?”
“She has bruises on her arm,” Hannah said.
“And she always says she just fell down,” Sarah added.
Susan studied the little girl who quietly stood next to a tall, thin woman. “Is that her mother?” She hadn’t recalled seeing the woman at any of the school’s PTA meetings or parent-teacher nights.
“Uh-huh.” The twins spoke and nodded in unison.
The woman was in her mid-thirties or maybe forties, tall, thin and tired-looking. Susan knew the look. She couldn’t very well go up and confront the woman or the girl. But she did take a long look at the mother. Sadness or maybe weariness—possibly wariness?—ringed her eyes. Susan’s gaze swept the area, looking for a possible threat to either the woman or the child.
“Do you ever talk to Jasmine’s mom?” she asked Hannah and Sarah.
“Sometimes. But she falls down a lot, too.”
Susan’s eyes narrowed. She searched for a companion, but both the woman and the girl seemed rooted where they stood. Possibly waiting for someone?
“Mommy, can you help her?”
“Yes,” Susan told her girls. “I’ll see if anything’s wrong and if it is, I’ll try to help them both. I promise.”