Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for.

      —Hebrews 11:1–2

      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      CHAPTER FIFTEEN

      CHAPTER SIXTEEN

      CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

      CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

      CHAPTER NINETEEN

      CHAPTER TWENTY

      EPILOGUE

      END NOTES

      QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

      ONE

      Zach MacKenzie turned off the shower and heard the doorbell ringing. Wondering who could be at the door this time of night, he grabbed one of the pink towels off the rack just as the bell, an elaborate eighteen-note affair, chimed again. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he padded across the bedroom to the front of the house. At the window, he peeked beneath the sheer curtains half expecting to see a cop parked in front of the house. Cops had no reason to be looking for him, but he had no doubt they would come around just as soon as they found out an ex-con was living with the richest woman in town. Never mind that she was his aunt and the only person who had stuck by him over the last three and a half years.

      Because of the porch roof between the open window and the front door, he couldn’t see who had rung the doorbell. He studied the dark street in front of his aunt’s house, noted a car in the driveway across the way that hadn’t been there earlier, and decided all else looked about as it should for midnight in a town as small as Rangeview, Colorado.

      The town was the opposite in every way from Denver, where he had lived his entire life before going to prison. Instead of jammed freeways, a single stoplight three blocks from the house regulated the town’s meager traffic. The town was a whole twenty blocks long and seven wide, the only paved street the highway that came through town.

      The breath of air that fluttered the curtain was as soft as a sigh. Outside, it was blissfully, peacefully quiet, and he decided the ringing of the bell had been nothing more than kids playing a prank.

      Yawning, he left the window and pulled back the covers to the bed. Between putting his aunt on a plane in Grand Junction early that morning, making the four-hour trip back here courtesy of a ride from his aunt’s attorney and unpacking his few belongings, it had been a full day. A good day. A free day. For that he was thankful.

      The bell rang again, making him wish he had obeyed his impulse to disconnect it until Sadie returned from Europe. He couldn’t imagine who might want to see his aunt this late. Whoever was at the door obviously wasn’t going away, so he pulled on a pair of jeans, then trotted down the stairs.

      The bell rang one last time, the chimes echoing through the house. He clicked on the porch light. The silhouette on the other side of the frosted oval glass looked like a kid. With green hair.

      He flung open the door to a visitor—who had green hair, all right, a wig with flyaway straight strands—clutching a giant pair of shoes.

      “Oh, Sadie,” said a distinctly feminine voice, her attention mostly on something behind her. “I just pulled into the driveway and thought I saw Foley go around the back of the house and…” Her voice trailed off when her gaze lit on his bare feet. She stared a long moment before raising her head and showing him a clown face with a huge, painted-on grin that was completely at odds with the apprehension in her voice and in her eyes.

      She swallowed, and her hold on the shoes tightened. “Oh…I forgot. Sadie left for Europe and you’re…”

      “Zach,” he supplied when she finally met his eyes. “Her nephew.”

      Movement across the street snagged his attention—a guy in a white dress shirt and blue jeans appeared between two of the houses across the street, walking with the careful deliberation of someone pretending they were sober. It was a deception Zach understood all too well.

      The clown turned around to see what he was looking at. When she caught sight of the man, her shoulders drooped suddenly as though a weight had just been placed across them.

      Figuring the guy was bound to notice them any second, Zach snagged her by the arm and drew her into the house. He closed the door and turned off the porch light. “That guy. He’s unwanted company?”

      “Oh, yeah.” Her voice caught on a laugh that would have been hysterical if it hadn’t ended on a sob.

      “You can use the phone to call the cops.” He turned away from her and strode toward the kitchen.

      “No.” She dropped the shoes and practically ran to keep up with him.

      “It’s the only way to deal with a scumbag like that.” He picked up the receiver of the phone and handed it to her.

      “No.” This time her voice was sharper. She set the receiver back on the cradle. “You don’t understand.”

      Zach folded his arms across his chest. He could only hope she wasn’t one of those