Before she’d even begun high school, Cynthia knew what she wanted to do for a living. Her interest in politics began and ended with her father, but medicine called to her, spoke to her heart like a longtime friend. Obstetrics had been her obvious choice, but going through rotations in medical school, she’d seen the beauty in all the practices. She only wanted to help people—help women—bring healthy babies into the world.

As the sky lightened, she stopped at a fast-food restaurant in West Virginia and got a cup of coffee and a fried chicken biscuit. Her mouth watered at the smell of the freshly brewed drink mingled with the buttery smell of the biscuit. It transported her back to her residency. After a twenty-four-hour shift, one of the residents had made a run for chicken biscuits and coffee. Cynthia was so exhausted but so pumped at the work she’d done. With burning eyes and an aching back, she sat in the doctors’ lounge and enjoyed the breakfast instead of going home and crashing. She didn’t realize how hungry she felt until her first bite of biscuit. She’d eaten two that morning, then managed to get home and sleep for about ten hours.

Her mind roamed over the friends she’d made back then, the ones she still had now. She took the time to pray for them individually, thankful for the good people God had placed in her sphere.

She crossed the Kentucky border in late morning and made it to Charula at lunchtime. The hotel didn’t allow check-in until three, so she drove around the town square.

If someone had asked her to outline the quintessential small town, she didn’t think she could come close to the perfection that she discovered in Charula, Kentucky. Main Street ended at a river park, where a statue depicting emergency response heroes stood under a giant American flag.

She saw a diner, the police department, an ice cream shop, and a coffee shop around a traffic circle. A flower shop had springtime flowers spilling out onto the walk, and a sewing shop displayed beautiful quilts. She found a parking space in front of a dress shop that had lovely retro-style dresses in the big picture window.

As she got out of the car and stretched, she spotted a historical marker. She wandered over to it and read about the county that split almost evenly during the War between the States.

She slipped her sunglasses off and looked around. Her heart lodged in her throat when she spotted Norton’s Hardware. With a dry mouth and a pounding heart, she crossed to it. As soon as she got to the parking lot, she recognized Rick’s car. After propping her sunglasses on her head, she walked into the store. A bell above the door jingled, announcing her arrival.