Special thanks and acknowledgment to Marta Perry for her contribution to the Homecoming Heroes miniseries

      Bear one another’s burdens,

       and so fulfill the law of Christ.

      —Galatians 6:2

      This story is dedicated to the Love Inspired sisters

       who worked on this continuity series—

       Lenora, Brenda, Pat, Margaret and Jillian.

       And, as always, to Brian, with much love.

      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

      Epilogue

      Questions for Discussion

      Chapter One

      It had taken ten years in New York City to eliminate all traces of Texas from Caitlyn Villard’s voice. It took only a week in Prairie Springs to bring it back again.

      Had she really just said y’all to the kindergarten teacher and her own twin nieces? Caitlyn stepped out into the courtyard of the Prairie Springs Elementary School. She was greeted by a blast of air hot enough to wilt her hairstyle and melt the makeup from her face.

      “Um, ma’am?” The warm drawl came from above.

      She looked up. A lanky man clung to the top of a wooden stepladder, a paint can in one hand and a dripping brush in the other. “You might want to move out of range a bit.”

      “Sorry.” She took a few steps away, standing under the shade of the roof overhang. She had obviously forgotten just how hot Texas was in July.

      Through the window she could see into the room where Amanda and Josie sat at a round table with Sarah Alpert, who was assessing their readiness to start kindergarten in September.

      That was still two months away. By the time the twins started school, she would be back in New York, picking up the threads of her interrupted life. Back on the fast track to partner at Graham, Graham and Welch, one of the Big Apple’s most prestigious law firms. This interval in Texas, helping her mother cope with the aftermath of her sister’s death, would be a memory.

      “You brought the girls in for their first taste of kindergarten, did you?”

      Caitlyn blinked, as startled as if the spindly potted shrub next to the door had made a personal remark. The painter had descended—tall, lanky, wearing the scuffed boots, blue jeans, western belt and ball cap that were almost a uniform here.

      “I beg your pardon?” It was a tone designed to freeze unwelcome attention.

      “The twins,” he said, as if she was a bit slow on the uptake. “I bet they’re excited about starting kindergarten in the fall.”

      His eyes, intensely blue in a lean, tanned face, now held amusement. They also seemed vaguely familiar.

      “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

      “Well, now, I reckon I’m just not as memorable as I thought I was.” He didn’t look as if he believed that, in spite of the aw-shucks expression he wore. He tipped the ball cap politely. “Steve Windham. Prairie Springs High School. Ring any bells?”

      She had to dredge through memories she’d happily buried a long time ago. “Steve Windham. I guess so. You were a senior when I was a freshman, I think.”

      Actually she knew, but she didn’t intend to pander to the man’s self-conceit. He looked far too pleased with himself already.

      She let her gaze wander over what had to be at least six feet or more of solid muscle. Steve had been the star athlete of his class, and he still looked it. He’d been the valedictorian, too, and probably voted most likely to succeed.

      “That’d be about right,” he agreed. “That was way too many years ago, I guess.”

      “And after high school you became a housepainter, did you? I thought I remembered that you had an athletic scholarship to one of the big schools.”

      That was typical of Prairie Springs. People just settled down to live the way their folks had, instead of getting out into the world and making a mark. Being a painter was fine, if that was what you really wanted, but it was hard to believe someone with Steve’s intelligence and talent hadn’t had any bigger goals.

      Steve’s right eyebrow cocked, giving him a quizzical look. “I don’t guess there’s anything wrong with painting. It’s an honest day’s work. So what