By seven-thirty, friends of every age milled around the clearing along the back side of Lindsey’s farm, but there was no sign of Jesse and Jade. Disappointment settled over Lindsey like morning fog on a pond as she watched the driveway for the familiar silver-and-blue truck. The party would have been good for father and daughter. That’s why her disappointment was so keen, not because she missed their company, although she was too honest to deny that fact completely. Still, she had plenty of other friends around, and the party, as always, was off to a roaring start.

      Beneath a full and perfect hunter’s moon, the scent of hickory smoke and roasting hotdogs circled over a crackling campfire. The night air, cool and crisp, meant jackets and hooded sweatshirts, many of which lay scattered about on hay bales or on the short browning grass as their owners worked up a sweat in various games.

      A rambunctious group of teenagers and young adults played a game of volleyball at the nets she and Jesse had strung up. Smaller children played tag by lantern light or crawled over the wagonload of hay parked at an angle on the north end of the clearing. Most of the adults chatted and laughed together around the food table and a huge cattle tank filled with iced-down soda pop and bottled water.

      “Where’s that hired hand of yours, Lindsey?” Pastor Cliff Wilson, standing with a meaty arm draped over the shoulder of his diminutive wife, was only a few years older than Lindsey. She still had difficulty believing that this gentle giant had once spent more time in the county jail for drinking and disturbing the peace than he did in church. Just looking at him reminded Lindsey and everyone else of the amazing redemptive power of Jesus’ love. “I thought we’d get to meet him tonight.”

      “I did, too, Cliff,” she said. “But it looks like he backed out on coming. Jade will be so disappointed.” So was she. Jade needed the interaction, and though Jesse held himself aloof, he needed to mingle with people who loved and served God.

      “Jade?” Cliff’s wife, Karen, spoke up. “What a pretty name. Is that his little girl?”

      Karen and Cliff had yet to conceive and every child held special interest for the pastor’s wife.

      “Yes. She’s adorable. A little shy at first, so if they do come, give her some time to warm up.” Lindsey took a handful of potato chips from a bag on one of the long folding tables and nibbled the salt from one. “Aren’t you two going to eat a hotdog?”

      Karen laughed and hugged her husband’s thick shoulder. “Cliff’s already had three.”

      The pastor rubbed his belly. “Just getting started.”

      Downing a sizeable portion of cola, the minister slid two franks onto the point of a stick and poked it into the flames. “One for me, and one for my lady friend here.”

      Lindsey smiled, admiring the open affection between the pastor and his wife.

      “Come on, Lindsey.” Debbie Castor, the waitress at the Caboose Diner and one of Lindsey’s closest friends, had joined the volleyball game. “We need someone who can spike the ball. Tom’s team is waxing us.”

      Tom was Debbie’s husband, and they loved competing against each other in good-natured rivalries.

      “Okay. One game. I still haven’t had my hotdog yet.” To shake off her disappointment at Jesse’s absence, Lindsey trotted to the makeshift court. She was in good shape from the physical aspect of her job and was generally a good athlete, but tonight her mind wasn’t on the game. Up to now, Jesse had always kept his word, and she experienced a strange unease that something was amiss.

      When Tom’s team easily defeated Debbie’s, she stood with hands on her knees catching her breath. “Sorry, guys. I wasn’t much help tonight. I must be losing my touch.”

      “Maybe after you eat you’ll regain your former glorious form, and we’ll play another game.”

      With a laugh, she said, “No deal, Tom. You just want to beat us again.”

      “Right on, sister.” Tom teased, bringing his arms forward to flex like a body builder. Balding and bespectacled, the fireman fooled everyone with his small stature and mischievous nature. Only those who knew him understood how strong and athletic he really was.

      Still grinning, Lindsey fell in step beside Debbie and headed back to the campfire. “Have you eaten yet?”

      “Half a bag of Oreos,” Debbie admitted. “All I want lately is chocolate.” Leaning closer she whispered, “I think I’m pregnant again.”

      Lindsey’s squeal was silenced by Debbie’s, “Shh. I don’t want Karen to hear until I’m sure. I wouldn’t want to hurt her.”

      “Ah, Deb. She’s not like that. Karen will be happy for you.”

      “But to see someone like me have an unplanned pregnancy when she can’t even have an intentional one must be difficult for her.”

      Lindsey knew the pain of wanting, but never having children, and yet her joy for her friends was genuine.

      “Does Tom know yet?”

      Debbie nodded, her orange pumpkin earrings dancing in the firelight. “He’s still a little shell-shocked, I’m afraid. Finances are so tight already with the three we have, but he’ll come around.”

      “You and Tom are such great parents. This baby will be the darling of the bunch, you wait and see. God always knows what He’s doing.”

      “You’re right, I know, but it’s still a shock.” Looking around, she spotted Tom across the way. “I think I’ll go over and let the daddy-to-be pamper me awhile.”

      Lindsey watched her friend snag another cookie as she sashayed around to the opposite side of the campfire where her husband waited. A twinge of envy pinched at her as she gazed at the group gathered on her farm. They were mostly couples and families, people who shared their lives with someone else. Even the teenagers paired up or hung together in mixed groups going through the age-old ritual of finding a partner.

      Lindsey loved these people, liked attending functions with them, but times such as these made her more aware than ever of how alone she was.

      To shake off the unusual sense of melancholy, Lindsey found a roasting stick and went in search of a frankfurter to roast. She had too much to be thankful for to feel sorry for herself. She’d chosen to live in this remote place away from her family where there were few unattached men her age. If the Lord intended for her to have a mate, He’d send one her way.

      An unexpected voice intruded on her thoughts.

      “Could you spare two of those for a couple of fashionably late strangers?”

      A pair of solemn silver eyes, aglow in the flickering firelight, met hers.

      Her heart gave a strange and altogether inappropriate lurch of pleasure.

      Jesse was here.