After he left, Shelly hung her head to the side. "I see I've missed something."

Jill stared at the lollipop. "What have you missed, Shelly?"

"Gee, I'm not real sure. Whatever it is that has Dan acting like Robocop around the woman he loves."

"We're friends."

"No. Huh-uh. That was not friends. That was devastation in a uniform."

Jill looked up. Honesty was always best with Shelly, and the sooner the better, or she'd wheedle it out anyway. "He asked me to marry him; I said no."

Shelly's face formed just the expression Jill expected. "He asked you-I thought you said you weren't in love with Morgan."

Jill sighed. "Could you please give me more credit than that? My whole life is falling apart. It's hardly the time to get married."

"But, Jill." Shelly dropped to a chair. "Do you know what it took for him to ask you? That was the greatest statement of trust he could make."

Jill's heart wrenched. "I'm sorry."

"Is there anything you can say that I'll understand?"

Waves of bleak despair washed over her. "I don't think so."

Shelly dropped her head to her hands. "You're on a kamikaze mission."

Shelly could be right. Since leaving Kelsey's bedside, a spiraling depression had seized hold unlike anything she'd known since being torn away from Morgan and having her baby alone. Worthless, the voices murmured. When had she ceased to matter? When her marrow didn't match? When she gave away her baby? When she gave up her virtue to Morgan? She was so empty, she couldn't cry even if she'd let herself.

Shelly must have caught her expression. "You are not spending the day alone. I'll call in."

"You don't have to do that, Shelly."

"You're more important than Cartier Confections. The boss can answer her own phone for one day."

Jill hadn't the strength to argue. She held out the lollipop.

Shelly eyed the sucked sweet. "Do you think I want that?"

Jill realized what she was doing. "No, I guess not."

"You didn't give me your opinion. Here I had them create your very own flavor, your 'I'm on vacation' flavor to double with our Maui coconut cream-"

"It's good, Shelly."

"And utterly irrelevant in the scope of life."

That actually brought a ghost of a smile. "Something like that."

"Go shower while I inform the president her assistant needs a personal day to deal with something infinitely more important than sucker flavors."

Jill obeyed. Spending the day with Shelly might just be what she needed.

They went to a movie, but she could not have named it afterward. Then they went to the mall.

"That does it."

Jill forced herself to focus. "What?"

"This is like Night of the Zombies." Shelly's earnest face confronted her. "Since when is puce with polka dots 'nice'?"

Jill looked at what Shelly had just shown her. The short set was appalling, actually. "No, I don't like that. Do you?"

Shelly's mouth dropped open. She waved her hand slowly in front of Jill's face. "Hello. Anybody home? I mean the real Jill, not some changeling of vacant mind."

Jill dropped her gaze. "I'm sorry, Shelly. I don't know what's wrong."

Shelly moistened her lips. "You need to talk."

Jill shook her head, but as always, Shelly ignored her. Seated at the cafe court, a mocha latte between her hands and Shelly's face before her, Jill realized there was no escape. "I don't even know where to start."

Shelly's eyes softened. "Well, something happened since the last time we talked."

Yes, something had happened. She had lost her surety of a good and loving God. She had lost the point of her salvation, the relevance. She shook her head. Maybe it was stress overload that numbed her, not the realization that she was worthless in God's eyes. Maybe even that was delusion. What if there was no God? She'd rather believe that. It hurt less.

"Talk to me, Jill."

Jill tried to form her desolation into words. She'd made her confession and been baptized at nine. Her parents were so proud, and their approval meant more than any spiritual awakening involved. She had measured up to their expectations and made the false assumption that she also measured up to God's.

She looked into Shelly's face. "I think maybe it's all been a hoax. That, as you said, there is no difference between those who believe and those who don't. We're no better off believing than not."

Shelly threaded her fingers. "What have you always told me? Circumstances don't matter. It's what you know by faith that counts. That Jesus Christ gave His life to bring salvation once for all." It was almost comical hearing the words from Shelly's mouth.

"My daughter is dying. She's fourteen. She'll never have a child. And even if Morgan's bone marrow halts the disease, there's no certainty of a cure." Even as she said it, she knew that wasn't the heart of her desolation. Her soul rent inside her. "Shelly." Her voice caught. "Kelsey told me not to regret giving her away, that God knew where she needed to be. With a different mother." Jill stared into her friend's eyes. "God rejected me."

And suddenly her resistance ruptured and pain burst from her in scalding tears. Shelly snatched a wad of napkins from the nearest food booth. Jill pressed them to her eyes until the sobs ebbed.

Shelly spoke softly. "Maybe God did you a favor. Maybe he knew a young girl, alone and immature, could not support the upcoming difficulties in that baby's life."

The words were sensible from Shelly's point of view. Jill acknowledged that much. But shame mingled with sorrow to clog her throat. God saw it, too, what they'd all seen. Unworthy.

Others talked in such glowing terms of their relationship with Jesus. She did everything they did, but she was like the wannabes who hung with the cheerleaders, hoping some of the magic would rub off on them. Jill knew from the inside, there was no magic. It was all illusion.

CHAPTER.

14.

Noelle was back at the ranch when Morgan returned by taxi a week later. He found her on the couch looking almost well, but he read weariness in her posture. He bent and kissed her cheek. "The prodigal returns."

"Me or you?"

He smiled. "Now there's an interesting thought. Done anything worth repenting?" He sat and slid an arm around her shoulders.

She nudged him with an elbow. "I'm too tired even to think of anything."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He removed his arm to a respectful position.

"The good news is, in spite of my pneumonia, the baby grew two centimeters."

"Two centimeters. Imagine that."

She rested her hand on her abdomen. "It's significant."

"Then good. I'm glad to hear it." And he was. Noelle's baby was a beacon of hope, of what it could and should be like. His first awareness of her pregnancy had been difficult, hammering home what he'd given up, what he could have fought to have for himself but had given Rick instead. Now he was just grateful the baby thrived.

"How about you, Morgan? Tell me what's happening with you and Kelsey."

Hearing his daughter's name from Noelle gave him a jolt. Hearing it connected to him brought the ache. With him and Kelsey? Nothing. How could there be? She'd been ripped from his reality before he ever laid eyes on her. Maybe it was some flaw in his nature that made it matter so much. Why couldn't he just let it go? So he had a kid. So what?

But as the oldest of six, he'd been a natural caretaker. Rick teased that their bane had been the arrival of the little sisters, but he had adored every one of those babies. Mom knew. She'd seen his soft heart and appreciated his automatic nurturing. He would come home from school and let the little girls swarm him. He tickled, hugged, even changed their diapers. He would have made a good dad.

"Morgan?" Noelle touched his arm.

"Yeah." He gathered in his thoughts. "I don't know what's happening with Kelsey. I've done my part. It's scheduled."

"The transplant?"

"It's actually called a harvest on my end. Rescue on Kelsey's. Imagine that, Morgan Spencer to the rescue."

Her gaze rested on his. "I don't have to imagine. I know that masked man."

He looked up at the vaulted ceiling, noted a few cobwebs at the junctions of crossbeams. He cocked his head. "You ought to let me get Marta up here."

"You'd never get her away from her grandchildren."

"Wanna bet?"

Noelle smiled. "No. Your silver tongue is notorious. But I'm all right."

"I think you could use the help. And frankly, this place isn't the same without her."

"You mean my cooking."

He winked. "What say I cajole her for a month or two?"

Noelle laughed. "Morgan ..." Then she sobered. "It is tempting."

He stood up. "She still with her son's family in Littleton?"

Noelle nodded. "Last we heard. Aren't you going to call first?"

"No. The personal touch is more effective." Though it hadn't been with Noelle. She'd resisted his touch like no woman before or after, until he'd used his magic to reunite her with Rick. Something was wrong with that picture. Why could he make things work for everyone else but himself? If he consulted on his own life, would he find the answer?

"I'm so glad you're back, Morgan."

That warmed him more than it should have. "I'm not staying long." With a quick wave, he strode out and saw Rick riding Destiny, his sorrel stallion, down from the high pasture. He ought to run the plan by him, as it was his brother's ranch. He waited in the yard while Rick dismounted the impeccably behaved horse. Hard to believe it was the same fiery-tempered animal upon which Rick had charged into the yard the first day Noelle arrived. Morgan half suspected Noelle had married Rick for Destiny.

"Hey, Morgan. You're back."

"Sort of."

Rick crooked an eyebrow.

Morgan pulled his keys from his slacks pocket. "I'm going to fetch Marta for a couple months to help Noelle out."

"Oh, you are, are you?"

Morgan smiled. "With your agreement, of course."

Rick propped his hands on his hips. "First off, Marta won't come. She's crazy about living with her grandkids. And secondly, I can't afford to pay her what she's worth. Since we're not taking guests this summer, aside from Stan's family, I have only the sale of the foals and the occasional riding party. With Noelle's illness ..."

"Let me do it."

Rick shook his head. "I know you can afford to, but-"

"All the times I come up here, eat your food, take up a room, gaze at your lovely wife. I owe you."

"Sorry, Morgan."

"Ever heard of the deadly sin of pride?"

Rick studied him a long moment. "It's not pride, it's ... well, okay, it is." He dropped his chin. "It's not easy having the daughter of old money for a wife."

Try not having her. "Let me spring for Marta."

Rick frowned. "Man, you're annoying."

"Come on."

"Don't make her think I put you up to it. And don't make her feel guilty if she refuses."