No Place Like Home. Debra Clopton
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“You impress me as a person who can do anything she sets her mind to,” Brady said.
To his surprise Dottie shook her head, and her eyes misted with tears.
“Only by the grace of God.” She blinked away the tears. “God’s faithful. He can take the worst of times and make something good.”
Brady was in trouble. He knew it the moment she smiled at him again.
He knew the moment she lifted her eyes to the sky and winked, like she and God had a secret. It was as if she were defying the tears and the anger to grasp the joy.
Oh, yeah, Brady was in trouble all right, because although he’d only known Dottie Hart for less than thirty minutes, he knew he wanted in on her secret.
DEBRA CLOPTON
was a 2004 Golden Heart finalist in the inspirational category. No Place Like Home is her third novel with Love Inspired. She makes her home in Texas with her family.
No Place Like Home
Debra Clopton
Never lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord.
—Romans 12:11
This book is dedicated to my mom and dad, Myra and Willie Patrick. I would have chosen you above all others. What a blessing you are to me.
And to my father-in-law, Walter Clopton, and his wife, Nancy, my friend. I love you both dearly.
And last but certainly not least, this book is dedicated with great respect and appreciation to all the rescue workers across the country. But especially to the Madisonville, Texas, Volunteer Fire Department and all the men and women who make up our wonderful skilled and dedicated rescue team, my sister Cathy Patrick included. You are heroes. May God bless you all!
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
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
Glancing at the lone figure standing in the reflection of her side mirror, Dottie Hart stomped hard on the brake and wrangled her prehistoric motor home to a groaning halt.
What in the world is that kid thinking?
In less than a shake and a wiggle Dottie was out the door watching the girl jog toward her along the shoulder of the hectic highway. The world was full of crazed people just waiting for the opportunity to snatch up a girl like that…and here she was hitchhiking!
Well, it wasn’t happening today, because Dottie’s new prayer each morning was for the Lord to use her any way He chose. Looked like today He’d put this girl in her pathway.
“Hey, thanks for stopping,” the girl said, dropping her bag with a thud at Dottie’s feet.
She looked to be in her late teens, maybe even twenty, older than Dottie had first thought, but still too young to be hitchhiking…no one was old enough to do that!
“Don’t thank me. Thank the Lord,” Dottie said. “He’s the one watching your back today.” Thank You, Father. Thank You so much for putting me in her pathway.
The teen lifted her chin defiantly, eyebrows knitted together. “Oh, brother! You aren’t one of those wacko people who go around picking up hitchhikers just so you can cram that religion stuff down their throats, are you?”
Dottie shook her head. “Do I look that brave? I just thought I’d mention why I decided to give you a lift.”
The girl relaxed a bit but still looked wary. “Okay, I’ll accept the lift ’cause I need it. Just don’t get carried away with the God stuff. Me and the big guy aren’t getting along so well right now.”
Dottie studied the teen. “That’s too bad. Here, let me help you carry that thing.”
“Hey, hey!” The girl jerked her bag away when Dottie reached for it. “I carry my own bags, lady. You may have wheels but I’ve got backbone. And I gotta tell you, by the look of your wheels, my backbone’s looking like it’s the winner. How old is this thing anyway?”
“Hey! Watch what you say about my rig!” Dottie patted the side of her RV. “It’s ugly, sure, but this baby’s gonna get us where we need to go long before it wheezes its last breath.” Walking to the cabin door, she opened it then glanced over her shoulder. “If you’re still up for a ride, chuck that bag inside and let’s hit the road.”
Climbing back into her faithful RV, Dottie tried to calm the jitters threatening to set in. Tried to reassure herself that it was going to be fine.
You’ve really picked up a hitchhiker!
True, but calm down, she told herself. There were no hoodlums hiding in the bushes, using the girl as a front. She didn’t appear to be a teenage ax murderer, so everything was going to be okay. Really.
A woman had to take a risk every once in a while, didn’t she? On the other hand, if she truly believed God put people in a person’s life for a reason, then this was no accident—and she did believe that with all her heart.
God had given her a second chance at life and she’d made a promise that she was bound and determined to follow through with it. This was a test.
Not that she was an advocate for a woman traveling alone to pick up strangers off the side of the road. She’d never done anything like this before. And when her brother learned what she’d done he might skin her alive, but it felt right. And that was good enough for Dottie.
For goodness’ sake, she was about to start working at a women’s shelter—a home for women at risk. How could she live with herself if she passed one on the side of the road and didn’t help her!
She couldn’t. And that was that. Decision made—case closed. So relax.
Grabbing the big plastic bag of Gummi Bunnies off the dashboard, she held it out. “Want a handful?”
“Sure,” the girl said, slamming the passenger’s door closed and reaching for the bag.
Watching her dig into the candy, Dottie relaxed even further. True, she was supposed to be back in California as quickly as possible, time was of the essence, but this girl had obviously needed a friend.
“There’s drinks in the fridge if you need something. And real food.” Biting back any other reservations, she smiled. “I’m Dottie Hart,” she offered, meeting the girl’s hazel eyes that were similar to her own.
“I’m Cassie Bates,” she said, nibbling a mouthful of the chewy little