A Match Made in Good Hope (A Good Hope Novel Book 9) Read online

  “I’m sorry he left you. I know what it’s like to have your girlfriend spend time with another man.”

  Katie Ruth knew he was thinking of Lindsay. That had been a totally different situation. “This isn’t the same. I’m not Dexter’s girlfriend. I brought him to the party so he could reconnect with old friends. Mission accomplished. Besides, I’m glad he left.”

  Dan’s brows pulled together.

  Gripping her inner boldness, Katie Ruth smiled. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have had the chance to spend the evening with you.”

  Chapter Three

  This, Dan thought, was turning out to be a stellar evening. His original plan had been to swing by, give his regards to Kyle and Eliza, then leave. Instead, he and Katie Ruth closed down the party.

  Dan smiled. He hadn’t stayed until the end of a party since his college days.

  “Why the smile?” Katie Ruth asked, her face upturned to his.

  “I was thinking how long it’s been since I closed down a party.”

  She laughed. “It’s been a long time for me, as well.”

  The teenage girl in charge of distributing the coats was someone Dan didn’t recognize, but Katie Ruth gave her a hug. “Astrid. It’s good to see you.”

  The girl flashed a smile, showing a mouthful of metal braces, and handed the coat-check tickets to another girl to retrieve the garments.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day.” Astrid studied Dan. “Is this your boyfriend?”

  To her credit, Katie Ruth didn’t miss a beat. She rested a hand on Dan’s arm. “This is Pastor Marshall. I believe I mentioned that I’m now handling the youth programs at First Christian. I’d love for you to stop by sometime. We have serious fun on Sunday mornings.”

  “I’m still thinking about it.”

  Astrid sent a wary look in his direction, and Dan decided it was best to let Katie Ruth handle the conversation.

  “Well, I personally coordinate your age group. We meet in the church basement at ten every Sunday. You don’t need to dress up. Come comfortable. There are pastries from Blooms Bake Shop, fresh orange juice and even lattes available. No charge.”

  Dan wasn’t sure if it was the pastries or the lattes that caught Astrid’s attention, but the girl looked interested.

  “I might stop by.”

  Katie Ruth flashed a brilliant smile. “I hope you do.”

  Dan helped Katie Ruth on with her black coat, then slipped on his.

  “I don’t believe I’ve ever met Astrid.” Dan stepped out onto the porch, still trying to place the girl. He prided himself on his memory of names and faces.

  “She’s not a member of First Christian. She played softball on one of the summer Y teams I coached last summer.” Katie Ruth continued down the steps beside him to the sidewalk, where she paused. “Her parents divorced about this time last year. It’s just her and her mom now. Her mother works a lot of hours.”

  “Sounds like you did church outreach in addition to coaching.”

  “I think Astrid would really like youth group. I believe it’d be good for her, give her a port in the storm, so to speak. From what Astrid told me, the family went to Sunday services in the past, but they don’t have a church home now.”

  “If there’s anything I can do—”

  “I believe she’d like you, once she got to know you. But—”

  “But…” Dan prompted when Katie Ruth hesitated.

  “Astrid’s dad was abusive. She tends to keep all adult males at a distance.”

  “Understandable.”

  “She’s a strong young woman.” Admiration ran through Katie Ruth’s voice like a silver thread. “She’ll get through this, but could use help. There’s a program I’ve been wanting to implement that could help our teens. We should talk about it sometime soon.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Well,” she gave a decisive nod and flashed that bright smile once more, “it’s been fun.”

  He stared at her outstretched hand. Instead of taking it, he pointed to his 2008 Hyundai Sonata parked across the street. “It’s not fancy, but you can trust it—and me—to get you home safely.”

  She gestured with one hand down Main Street. “I only live a few blocks from here. I can walk.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t.” Even though Good Hope was a safe town, the thought of her walking alone, even down a well-traveled street, didn’t sit well. “My car has heated seats.”

  “Well, then, how can I refuse?” She laughed and surprised him by looping her arm through his.

  Probably, he told himself, in case she slipped. Of course, because of warmer-than-normal temperatures this week, there was no possible way her heels would find an icy patch.

  He didn’t care about the reason. He liked having her hand on his arm as they crossed the street.

  The drive to the tiny cottage she called home, on the other side of the business district, took a matter of minutes.

  The porch light was on, but Dan didn’t consider waiting in the car. His father was old-fashioned, and Dan had been taught to walk a woman to her door.

  “Thank you for letting me monopolize your evening.” He paused on the porch, reluctant to leave.

  She tilted her head back, and he caught a whiff of her light, flowery fragrance. He loved the way she smelled, like a meadow in full bloom. The enticing scent gave him a subtle, pleasurable jolt.

  “It wasn’t much of a hardship,” she murmured.

  “I’m glad.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. Dan wondered if her lips would taste like sweet cherry candy.

  The air around them pulsed with electricity, and his heartbeat hitched.

  His control nearly shattered when she ran a tongue over her lips. She didn’t smile. Shadows played in her eyes, making them unreadable.

  Time seemed to stretch and extend.

  Dan kept his hands at his sides and resisted the urge to reach for her.

  When Dan finally found his voice, it sounded rough, choked, foreign to his ears. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Katie Ruth.”

  She studied him for a long moment. Though her eyes remained unreadable, she smiled. “Back atcha.”

  Once she stepped inside and he heard the lock click, Dan did what he should have done the second his shoes hit the porch. He turned and quickly strode back to the safety of his car.

  The following morning, Dan dressed quickly, eager for his daily thirty-minute run. He finished stretching and was reaching for his jacket when the phone rang.

  After frowning at the readout, he pressed the phone to his ear. “Morning, Dad. You’re up early.”

  John Marshall, a successful stockbroker, lived a well-disciplined life. The one day each week that he allowed himself to sleep in was Saturday. That was, unless he had a date to play eighteen holes with a business associate.

  Since the Chicago area had been hit with another snowstorm yesterday, Dan doubted a morning of golf was on today’s agenda.

  “I couldn’t sleep. Your mother was worried, and her constant tossing and turning kept me up half the night.” His dad blew out a breath.

  “What’s wrong?” Dan’s breath hitched. “Is Mom sick?”

  “Your mother is healthy.” John’s gruff voice filled the phone. “It’s Oaklee.”

  “Oaklee is sick?”

  “No. No. No. Three semesters left, and your sister chucks it all.” His father’s censure was laced with confusion. “That girl has no sense.”

  Oaklee had been attending a small university in Illinois. Dan had thought she was relatively happy there. “Why did she quit? I thought she’d finally found the right major.”

  His father snorted. “If you can call communication studies a major.”

  “She seemed happy enough.”

  “I was just happy she was getting a degree,” his father conceded. “This fall, she complained about having ‘issues’ with one of the professors.”

  Dan couldn’t stop the frown. Oaklee hadn’t mentioned any professor problem to him. “What kind
of issues?”

  “She was convinced the man had it out for her.”

  Dan’s fingers tightened around the phone. In his experience, most people liked Oaklee. His sister might be ditzy at times, but she was caring and kind. She’d do anything for a friend. Heck, even for a stranger. “What did he do? Did she say?”

  “I don’t know, Daniel.” Resignation rang heavy in his father’s voice. “You know Oaklee. She’s so sensitive. If I had to guess, I’d say it was probably something as simple as coming down on her for a late assignment. What I do know is, until she gets her act together and goes back to school, she’s not setting foot in my house.”

  “I realize she had trouble deciding on a major, but—”

  “Trouble? The girl has changed her major four times. Four times.” John huffed out a breath. “You know what that means. Electives that no longer count. More classes needed to satisfy prerequisites. Money wasted.”

  Dan forced a conciliatory tone. “It takes time for some people to find themselves.”

  “The girl has been nothing but trouble since the day she learned to talk.”

  “C’mon, Dad. You don’t mean that.” It had to be frustration talking. His father loved Oaklee. The man just had difficulty understanding and accepting that not everyone followed a prescribed course in life.

  Oaklee might be scattered and impulsive, but she had a good heart.

  Silence filled the line for several long heartbeats.

  “I meant every word I said to her.” The condemnation and disappointment he heard reminded Dan of his father’s reaction when he’d told him he was switching from engineering to theology.

  “What does ‘getting her act together’ mean?”

  “Back to school with a solid plan for the future.”

  In other words, a solid plan meeting John Marshall’s approval. That didn’t have to be said to be understood.

  “Where is Oaklee now?”

  The silence had Dan’s heart skittering.

  John cleared his throat. “Your mother thought, hoped, you’d know.”

  “I haven’t heard from her.” Dan gripped the phone. “If she shows up here, I won’t turn her away.”

  She was his sister. He loved her. If Oaklee needed him, Dan would be there for her.

  “Daniel, you need to be careful. Think of yourself. You can’t risk Oaklee ruining your reputation if you hope to advance in your career. The girl needs to own her mistakes. You need to think of your future. It’s time you seriously think about where—”

  “Back to Oaklee.” Dan had been on the receiving end of his father’s career advice too many times to count. For now, they needed to focus on his sister. “When was the last time either of you heard from her?”

  “Last week. She was staying with friends downtown. But when your mother reached out to one of them when Oaklee didn’t answer her phone, they said she hadn’t been there in three or four days. Your mother is frantic.”

  Dan was feeling a little panicked himself. Where could his free-spirited sister have gone? Despite being nearly twenty-one, Oaklee was naïve and trusting. “Have you thought about calling the police?”

  “No.” No explanation, just no.

  Dan raked a hand through his hair. “I’m serious about checking with the police. We should call—”

  “And tell them what? That my adult daughter has taken off on another crazy adventure and could they pretty please track her down for us?” His father’s laugh had a rough edge. “I’ll tell your mother you’ll call if Oaklee contacts you.”

  “I will.” Even as he promised, Dan wondered who he could reach out to who might know where his sister was staying. It hit him that he didn’t know any of her friends. “Tell Mom I’ll be praying for Oaklee’s safety.”

  “If you speak with your sister, tell her to stop acting like a spoiled brat.”

  “I’ll let her know you’re worried.” But the words were spoken into silence as Dan realized his father had already disconnected the call.

  Dan called his sister’s number right away. He frowned as the call went straight to voice mail Dan closed his eyes.

  Dear Lord, please let Oaklee know she’s loved and bring her safely home. Amen.

  Before church tomorrow, he’d see if his mother had heard from Oaklee. If she hadn’t, he’d call the police himself and see if anything could be done to find his sister.

  He did a few more stretches, then headed to the sidewalk. A killer playlist had his blood stirring and his feet on autopilot by the time he left his block.

  Dan’s normal route, a path that took him through Peninsula State Park, held little appeal. Ignoring the turnoff onto Shore Road, he veered in the opposite direction onto Wrigley Lane.

  The sidewalk soon ended. Paved roads gave way to dirt and gravel. Scattered houses, in various states of disrepair, sat back from the road. A German shepherd, staked out in a yard that was more dirt than grass, pulled at the chain and barked furiously as Dan ran past.

  He’d been down this road before when he’d visited an ailing congregation member. The woman, who’d been the same age as his mother, had passed away from cancer a few weeks later.

  Dan thought of his mother. He’d check in with her this evening and see how she was holding up. Though she got frustrated with her daughter, Sandra Marshall had a soft heart. But in their household, what his father said went, and she wouldn’t go against his wishes.

  Which meant, unless—or until—his father changed his mind, Oaklee didn’t have a home.

  The houses soon yielded to rolling fields as Dan continued his steady pace, planning to go until the road dead-ended. He knew he was close when the Ding-A-Ling bar came into view. The two-story wooden structure sat alone, its large plate-glass windows gleaming in the morning sun.

  With nothing around it for miles, it was as if a tornado had plucked up the building and set it down in the middle of nowhere.

  As Dan drew close, he realized changes had been made since the last time he’d seen the structure. The sagging porch had been shored up, the peeling siding sanded and a fresh coat of red paint applied. A plastic sign, tied between two posts, advertised White Fish Wednesdays in bold black letters.

  Jogging in place in front of the currently closed establishment, Dan lifted his gaze to the second-floor windows. Shortly after he’d first arrived in Good Hope, he’d been to a small wedding reception held in the “ballroom.” Was that where Katie Ruth’s date had played poker?

  Dan didn’t know Dexter Woodard, but at the moment he was having difficulty liking the man. Even if escorting Katie Ruth didn’t qualify as a “real” date in Dexter’s mind, he shouldn’t have left her. As if deserting her wasn’t bad enough, he’d made that hurtful crack about switching partners…

  A muscle in Dan’s jaw jumped. Katie Ruth might have laughed it off, but Dan had seen hurt in her eyes.

  He didn’t know any woman who exemplified Christian goodness more than Katie Ruth. She radiated kindness, love and compassion.

  Dan would have been honored to escort her to Eliza’s party. Why hadn’t he asked her to go with him? They were, after all, both single and unattached.

  After stretching again, Dan started back the way he’d come, the thought of dating Katie Ruth circling in his head. Three words pulsed in time to the music from his playlist.

  Ask her out. Ask her out.

  He pictured them arriving together at the pancake feed tonight. Saw them having lunch after Sunday services. Heard them laughing over a pizza at Bayside. Imagined them splitting a piece of pie at Muddy Boots.

  Friends of hers were friends of his. Dating her made so much sense.

  Except…

  He’d been engaged just last summer. Would his congregation think he was moving too fast? He dismissed the thought as he reached the main road and turned left. Lindsay was married now. She’d be having a baby soon.

  Only one obstacle remained. Katie Ruth worked for the church. While it wasn’t in a paid capacity, she was in charge of the y
outh programs, and she volunteered at Mindy’s Closet most Fridays. If things went south between them, it could make things awkward.

  His shoes beat a rhythm against the gravel, matching the beat of his heart. Last night, he’d wanted to kiss her. If she’d given him the slightest bit of encouragement, he’d have wrapped his arms around her and pressed his mouth to—

  Dan forced the image out of his head. He would call Katie Ruth and speak with her about last night. Not to ask her out—no, he wouldn’t take that step, not yet—but to apologize for any awkwardness.

  Simply thinking of hearing her voice brought a smile to his lips. A cheerful smile that lasted all the way home. Until he reached his house and saw his sister on his front porch.

  Chapter Four

  Dan’s heart lodged in his throat. Oaklee scrambled to her feet and raised a hand in greeting. Pink hair shimmered in the rays of the morning sun.

  Relief washed over him with the force of a tidal wave. He sprinted the last fifty feet. His baby sister was safe.

  He’d been ten when Oaklee was born. His parents had tried for years to have a second child, and they’d been overjoyed when Oaklee made her appearance.

  By the time the little girl reached kindergarten, his parents had begun to joke about a mix-up at the hospital. The flamboyant daughter of two conservatives, Oaklee loved fairy wings and belting out tunes from her favorite movies at the top of her voice. She craved the center stage spotlight.

  Having such a loud, noisy, free-spirited child astonished John and Sandra Marshall. It was no different now that she was an adult. From her pink hair to the tat on her ankle, Oaklee continued to march to the beat of her own drum. It was something Dan admired about her.

  Dan opened his arms. “I’m happy to see you.”

  Oaklee squealed—there really was no other word for the sound—and dived into his arms. She smelled of strawberry shampoo and sunshine. He hugged her tight.

  After a moment, she took a step back. Only then did Dan notice the shadows. Her smile might be bright, but fatigue edged her eyes.

  His gaze searched her face