He still owed her an answer about the loan.

Now that the situation with Hannah was under control—more or less—he ought to tell her no and be done with it.

But as he hurried to catch up with the doughnut-seeking duo ahead of him, the message in one of the Scripture passages Reverend Baker had read this morning replayed in his mind. The exact wording escaped him, but it had been about letting go of bitterness and wrath and malice. About being kind and merciful—and forgiving.

Wasn’t it hypocritical to attend church if he didn’t intend to follow the precepts of his dormant faith?

A faint pounding began to throb in his temples, and he massaged his forehead.

The answer to that question was obvious. And the evidence he’d seen since Christi’s arrival gave him little excuse to cling to his anger.

But after vilifying her for so long, could he manage to switch gears and open his mind and heart to the possibility that she’d changed . . . and deserved not only the requested loan but forgiveness—and a second chance?

17

“Christi, how can I ever thank you? I would never have been able to manage without your help.” Beth touched her arm.

“No thanks necessary.” Christi set the to-go container from the Myrtle on Beth’s kitchen table as the woman eased into a chair. “Shall I take those?” She motioned toward the crutches.

“I can manage.” Beth balanced them against the wall. “With the help of the physical therapist who’s been coming, I’ve learned to do almost everything on my own. Not at my usual speed, however.” She opened the container and leaned close to inhale the savory aroma. “No one makes meat loaf like the Myrtle.”

“And look what I brought for dessert.” Christi unwrapped a napkin from around a frosted doughnut, set the treat on the table, and retrieved eating utensils from a drawer.

“Did you get that at Sweet Dreams?”

“Nope. I filched it from the doughnut table after the service this morning at Grace Christian. It was my first visit to the church. Have you been there?”

“No.” Beth picked up the knife and fork. “This looks delicious.”

In other words, she didn’t want to talk about church.

Her choice—but it was sad she wasn’t able to call on God for support while she recovered.

“I know you haven’t been up to hearing a report on the chamber of commerce meeting, but I have the notes in my purse if you’d like a quick recap.”

“I’d love a briefing—but I hate to infringe on your Sunday any more than I already have.”