He gave the baggy garment a dubious once-over. Not happening. The other members of the congregation would wonder about his competence as a caregiver if he let her show up in that.

“I think it’s too casual for church. You can take the sweater, but why don’t you change into something else?”

She gave him a disgruntled look. “Aunt Erica wouldn’t let me wear it either.” With a huff, she disappeared back down the hall.

His decision may not have won him any brownie points with his daughter, but if Erica had concurred, it wasn’t off base.

After gathering up his bedding and stowing it in the hall closet, Jack followed Hannah to the bedroom, waited while she picked out a suitable outfit, and retreated to the bathroom.

Forty-five minutes later, fortified with a glass of juice and half of the bagel they’d split, he pulled into the Grace Christian parking lot.

“Do you know anyone here?” Hannah inspected the group converging on the entrance.

“I’m sure I do. I meet a lot of people because of my job.”

“Look!” Hannah released her seat belt, bounced forward, and pointed toward the front of the church. “Christi’s here!”

Jack followed the direction of her finger.

Sure enough, the newest Hope Harbor resident was ascending the steps to the front door.

Huh.

She must not have been exaggerating that first day when she’d mentioned praying.

Another disconnect from the woman he’d known.

“Can we talk to her?” Hannah fumbled for the door handle.

“Not before the service.” And not afterward either, if he could avoid it. Every time they met, she managed to chip away at his defenses—and he wasn’t ready to forgive and forget . . . or trust that she’d changed as much as it seemed. Her acting skills had been top-notch the summer she’d convinced him she was falling for him, and there was no reason to think she’d lost that talent.

“Can we talk to her later?” Hannah clutched her sweater tighter.

“We’ll see.”

The corners of her mouth turned down. “That’s what Mom always said if she meant no.”

His instinctive answer must be the natural default for all cornered parents.

“Let’s go in or we’ll be late.” He opened his door.

She didn’t press her point—but he had a feeling she wasn’t going to give up either.

Hannah stayed close as they walked to the front door, and once inside, his height advantage allowed him to spot Christi faster than his daughter did.

Unfortunately, she’d chosen a seat near the back—as he’d planned to do.

But there were pews on either side of the main aisle. He didn’t have to pick one close to her.