But since the words he’d been writing to his wife hadn’t swayed her opinion of him, it was possible Charley could be right.

It might be time for action.

16

What was poking him in the arm?

Emitting a sleepy groan, Jack tried to wriggle into a more comfortable position on the narrow couch in the living room.

Mission impossible.

The couch was fine for sitting, but it had not been designed to accommodate a six-foot-two, broad-shouldered frame for a full night’s sleep.

Maybe he ought to—

Another jab in the arm. This one harder.

He pried open one eye.

From eighteen inches away Hannah stared at him, hair tousled, her mom’s sweater slipping off one shoulder. Behind her, light seeped around the edges of the shades in the living room. Not pale morning light either.

No surprise he’d slept later than usual after tossing throughout the night—thanks to both the uncomfortable couch and his so far unsuccessful quest to find suitable day care. Who knew it would be that hard to line up an appropriate place for her?

Maybe he should have tamped down his usual deal-with-it-now MO and let Hannah stay with Erica for a while.

But that hadn’t been an ideal solution either. Natalie’s sister had to resume her work travel, and Hannah would have ended up in the care of strangers who shared no blood ties.

“Are you awake?” Hannah peered at him.

“I am now.” He pushed himself up, swung his feet to the floor, and squinted at his watch. Almost nine.

Definitely on the late side.

“Aren’t we going to church?”

Church?

Jack forked his fingers through his hair, trying to engage his sluggish brain. “I, uh, don’t always go.” Like never since he’d left St. Louis. After all the years he’d been a faithful follower, where had God been when his dad and brother died within months of each other? When Christi had broken his already bruised heart?

“Mom and me went every week—and Aunt Erica took me while I stayed with her.”

News to him about Natalie’s regular church attendance. The summer they’d known each other, Sunday services hadn’t been part of her routine. She had plied him with questions about his faith, though. Perhaps some of his answers had resonated.

Strange how life worked. By the end of that summer, she must have connected with God just as he’d walked away from him.

But being on the outs with the Almighty didn’t mean he should deprive Hannah of her Sunday visits with God—especially if that’s how Natalie had raised her.

“Then I guess we’re going.” He stood, picked up his phone from the side table, and googled Grace Christian Church. They’d missed the early service, but they could make the later one. “Why don’t you get dressed while I shower and shave?”

“Can I wear my sweater?”