“I’m fine, thanks.” He sat as she set her crutches aside, lowered herself into her chair, and opened the bag.

“These smell divine. Was it busy at the stand today?” Maybe if she changed the subject, he’d forget about religion.

“No. The traffic was much lighter than usual. The drop in tourism is hurting us all. But Christi’s plan to attract visitors is promising.”

“You know about that?” Beth unwrapped her first taco. The younger woman had only mentioned it to her last night.

“Marci hasn’t wasted any time getting input from the merchants in town. From what I’ve heard, the response has been very favorable. And that brings me back to my comment about timing. Isn’t it remarkable that she showed up in town now—out of the blue—with such a clever idea to help us increase business?”

“Could be coincidence.”

His lips curved up again. “As my abuela used to say when I was a boy in Mexico, coincidence is nothing more than a small miracle in which God chooses to remain anonymous.”

Another reference to God.

Rather than follow up on that comment, she continued to eat. If she didn’t respond, he might change the subject.

No such luck.

“You mentioned you’d never thought of me as religious. May I ask why that is?”

She finished chewing the bite of taco as she pondered that question. “Well, you never talk much about God or going to church or reading the Bible.”

“Reading the Bible is easy. Living it is hard. Besides, putting God’s words into action can change hearts faster than spouting verses—don’t you think?”

Couched like that . . .

“I suppose you’re right.” And by that definition, Charley was very religious. He lived the Good Book. The tacos she was enjoying today were tangible proof of that—and his kindness and empathy were legendary in town.

“My abuela, in her great wisdom, taught me to live my faith rather than talk about it. Don’t preach, she said. Do. Feed the hungry. Give drink to the thirsty. Visit the sick. Be compassionate. Forgive.”

The bite of taco stuck in her throat, and Beth washed it down with a swig of water. “I haven’t done the best job at a few of those. Worse, after my faith faltered.”

As the admission spilled out, she frowned. Her lapsed relationship with the Almighty wasn’t a subject she’d talked about with anyone except Christi—and then, only in passing.

Why had she brought it up to this man, whose beliefs were obviously strong?

And what would he think of her now that he knew she didn’t share his rock-solid trust in God?

She looked across the table as she unwrapped her second taco—and her breath caught.

Understanding and acceptance radiated from him, enveloping her in warmth.