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  “I have a daughter to protect,” Paula defended the blunt edge of her tongue. “To think I was willing to talk to you about visitation. You can forget it now, not after this!”

  “Listen!” Colt cut in, gripping her arm. Paula froze. But the distant wail was sirens, not armed men returning.

  Colt slipped a postcard inside an envelope and moved with a limping gait toward the back door.

  Paula’s jaw dropped. “Aren’t you going to talk to the police?”

  He kept moving.

  “Go on, then. Run. It’s what you do best. I’ll wait for the police.” And she was left alone with her assailing fears.

  What if the police don’t believe me? What if they think I broke in and made this mess? What if they arrest me? Dear God, what am I doing here?

  Books by Susan Kirby

  Love Inspired

  Your Dream and Mine #64

  Love Sign #129

  Love Knot #253

  SUSAN KIRBY

  has written numerous novels for children, teens and adults. She is a recipient of the Child Study Children’s Book Committee Award, and has received honors from the Friends of American Writers. Her Main Street series for children, a collection of books that follow one family through four generations of living along the famed highway Route 66, has enjoyed popularity with children and adults alike. With a number of historical novels to her credit, Susan enjoys intermingling writing-and-research travels with visits to classrooms across the country.

  LOVE KNOT

  SUSAN KIRBY

  For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh. This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church.

  —Ephesians 5:31-32

  Kolton Levi and Nicholas Alonzo Kirby

  Loving

  Anticipating

  “…in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye,

  at the last trumpet.”

  Dear Reader,

  Aren’t the products available to today’s quilters intriguing? Some time ago, I bought a bottle of Tack-It off a quilt-shop shelf—that’s glue for a temporary bond. The bond remains tacky, enabling me to move about embellishments on varied textiles or even unfold a visual story that will stick to a quilt the way specially backed cutouts stick to flannel graph. That’s tacky! That’s good. That’s very good.

  But when applied to marriage, temporary, the relational equivalent of Tack-It, is a tragedy. Temporary loses its salt in an unsavory world. Temporary crumbles beneath the onslaught of personality clashes, prevailing whims, strong wills and difficult circumstances. The resulting broken hearts and vows, broken homes and broken children, are the scrap stash from which Paula and Colton’s story is pieced. I relished taking their “trashed” marriage and turning it into a family treasure, for they epitomize all of us who are studying, hands on, the profound mystery of marriage and the unity spoken of in Ephesians 5:32. So be of good courage, dear reader, and pray with me a prayer that our world may be strengthened by durable, satisfying marriages and strong, healthy homes. God’s faithfulness is an eternal adhesive and a tie that binds us to the Master Quilter. Praise and honor to His holy name.

  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 One

  Jackson Sign Company was headquartered in the little farming community of Liberty Flats, Illinois, behind the home of Kate Grisham. Kate’s granddaughter, Paula Jackson Blake, co-owned the business with her brother Jake. She and Jake and her sisters were throwing a garden party for Gram Kate’s birthday. Friends and family visited in cozy clusters on the sweeping lawn and deep porches of Gram’s inviting arts-and-crafts home. But in the kitchen where Paula was chastising her daughter Joy, the mood was anything but festive.

  Joy’s sullen demeanor heightened Paula’s concern over the widening gulf between herself and her preteen daughter. At issue this time was Joy’s transgression against Shelby, who had driven down from Chicago to attend the party for Gram Kate. Jake intended to ask Shelby to marry him. A close-knit family, Paula and her sisters, their husbands and children—everyone in the Jackson clan—were holding their collective breath on Jake’s behalf.

  With the exception of Joy.

  “You liked her at first,” reasoned Paula. “If you would give her a chance, I’m sure you could like her again.”

  “The way you’re giving Dad a second chance?” returned Joy.

  “This isn’t about your father,” Paula reasoned with studied patience. “We’re talking about you hacking into Shelby’s story. You invaded her privacy and you put Jake in a difficult position. He deserves better. Why, he’s like a father to you.”

  “Uncle Jake wouldn’t have to play father if you’d just told Dad about me in the first place. When are you going to get over it and let my dad be a real dad?” Joy cried as she fled the room.

  Paula might have gone after her if not for her friend, Antoinette Penn. “Easy does it, she’ll come to her senses,” Annie said soothingly.

  “I’ve taken leave of mine, letting her talk to me like that,” muttered Paula. “That’s twice she’s wreaked havoc on that computer. First with Colt and now this. And right under my nose!”

  “You’re not blaming yourself, surely. Who’d dream she’d sneak a peek at Shelby’s writing much less track down her father without leaving home?” Annie wagged her head. “It’s off the subject, but I can’t help thinking what a shock it must have been to the man to learn he had a twelve-year-old daughter.”

  “Shock is a positive pregnancy test, and Colt long gone,” countered Paula.

  After all these years, the void created by her husband Colt having walked out on her before she realized she was pregnant continued to have enormous repercussions. Paula swept dark-auburn hair away from her throbbing temples.

  “I know Joy’s frustrated by my stalling,” she reasoned. “But what if I let her get involved with Colt only to find out he isn’t a fit parent?”

  “Why wouldn’t he be fit?” asked Annie.

  Grappling with a shame she didn’t want to feel, Paula blurted, “He’s homeless, Annie!”

  Annie’s eyes widened. “No way!”

  “It’s true,” said Paula, though she could hardly believe it herself. “Shelby volunteers at a homeless shelter in Chicago. Jake tagged along to help one afternoon. Colt was there for dinner, and I don’t mean to serve it.”

  “Are we talking about the same Colton Blake? The Voyager?” cried Annie, incredulous.

  “Yes, the Voyager!”

  It was the name by which the world at large knew Colton Blake. He had begun modeling for Wind, Water and Sky Outdoor Gear several years prior to meeting Paula. The sporting good company’s ad campaign depicted him as a rugged outdoorsman clad in denim jeans, flannel shirt and leather boots. But it was the red knit voyager cap he wore that accounted for his now famous moniker. He embodied the unfettered spirit, and not just on billboards and in slick magazine ads.

  Wind, Water and Sky Outdoor Gear used that one enduring image of Colt as the centerpiece of their ad campaign. Business had sky rocketed. The company was now a global enterprise. Which made it all the harder to explain how Colt could be reduced to living in a homeless shelter. In response to Annie’s questions, Paula could only recount what Jake had learned from the mission director, Mr. Weaver. br />
  “It seems Colt’s recovering from an accident.”

  “What kind of accident?” asked Annie.

  “Mr. Weaver didn’t say. But Jake said it left him badly scarred.”

  Annie winced. “That can’t be good in his line of work.”

  “Still, you’d think he’d have a bank account the size of Texas,” Paula said, struggling to come to terms with recent events. “So what’s he doing convalescing in a homeless shelter? How am I going to protect Joy from that?”

  “You can’t. You’ll have to tell her,” reasoned Annie.

  “How, without diminishing Colt in her eyes?” asked Paula. “Don’t you see? She’ll be devastated. The only way to shield her is to keep her away from him.”

  “That isn’t going to work forever,” said Annie.

  “It isn’t working now!” In the same breath, Paula wailed, “I’d like to take an ax to that computer!”

  “Or you could meet with Colt, resolve your issues and move ahead,” reasoned Annie, ever the voice of reason.

  “Talk face-to-face?” Paula grimaced. “No thanks.”

  Annie let it go and changed the subject. “Are you busy later? If not, stop by the house and I’ll trim your hair.”

  She could visit with Annie and still be home in time to enjoy her role as hostess to Shelby, who would be spending the night at her house. As for Joy, she was staying the night here at Gram Kate’s. “Thanks, Annie. I could use a cut and some conversation,” said Paula. “How’s seven sound?”

  “Perfect. See you then,” Annie said, and let herself out.

  What with guests to thank and bid goodbye and general party cleanup, afternoon flowed into evening. Paula joined the rest of the Jackson clan around Gram’s dining room table for a casual dinner.

  When the dishes were done, Paula’s sisters retired to the parlor where Joy was watching old home movies with Gram and various other family members. Paula bussed her cheek goodbye, and was trekking back through the kitchen to leave for Annie’s house when the phone rang. The caller was a woman who identified herself as Monique Lockwood and asked to speak with Jake.

  “Just a moment please,” said Paula.

  “I’ve got it on the portable, Mom. I’ll get Uncle Jake.” Joy’s voice came over the line.

  Jake had moved in with Gram months ago when her failing mental health made living alone a hazard. Jake’s portable phone hadn’t proved all that reliable. With that in mind, Paula kept the connection, waiting for Jake to pick up.

  “Hello?” said Jake.

  “Mr. Jackson? My name is Monique Lockwood. We met at the mission last weekend. Mr. Weaver gave me your number. He said you had asked about Jig-Saw, and had the impression you might have information concerning him. You do know Jig-Saw, don’t you?”

  Jig-Saw? Paula drew the receiver back to her ear. Wasn’t that the name Jake had said Colt was known by at the mission?

  “Yes, I know him,” came Jake’s clipped reply.

  “I understand how you might be reluctant to pass along information to a stranger. But I’d appreciate it if you would hear me out,” said Monique. “Jig-Saw would like to see his daughter, now that he’s more fully recovered.”

  “Recovered?” echoed Jake.

  “From his accident. I assumed you knew about that.”

  Jake offered nothing.

  “The bottom line is he’s jobless and penniless and trying hard to get back on his feet. In the meantime, he asked if he could use my place as home base. Just for a day, long enough to have a nice visit with his daughter.”

  Over my dead body! Paula’s blood rolled to a boil. Colt had no right to make arrangements behind her back. Who was this woman, anyway?

  “In your opinion, would I be safe in letting him stay?” the woman unknowingly fanned Paula’s ire.

  “You’re asking me if he’s dangerous?” came Jake’s even reply.

  “Exactly.”

  “If you don’t know him any better than that, why would you consider opening your home to him?” reasoned Jake.

  “I’ve been in desperate straits myself, and received help with no motives beyond simple kindness. You understand?”

  “I’m trying to,” said Jake. He was silent a moment, then offered guardedly, “The guy I knew wouldn’t be a risk to your property or your safety. But it was years ago that I thought I knew him.”

  “May I ask what your relationship to him was in the past?”

  Paula anticipated a straightforward, “He’s my brother-in-law.” Instead, Jake said, “I’m not free to say.”

  At that, the woman thanked him for his time and abruptly ended the call. Paula hung up the kitchen phone. She was anxious for a word with Jake. But Gram wandered into the kitchen, agitated over her misplaced crocheting. Paula found it for her, and led her back to the parlor where she learned from Joy that Jake had left the house in search of Shelby.

  “Shelby’s not with him?” asked Paula. “Where is she, then?”

  “I don’t know, Mom. She left by herself,” said Joy.

  Fearing the worst, Paula cried, “Oh, dear! I hope they haven’t quarreled. If only you hadn’t hacked into her story!”

  “Shelby leaves, and you blame me. That’s real fair. No wonder I have nightmares,” groused Joy. “Where you goin’?”

  “To find Jake.” Paula paused to offer a quick apology for her hastily drawn conclusion about Joy’s part in Shelby’s departure. She reeled for the door, adding, “Don’t forget the pancake breakfast. I’ll call you at six.”

  Paula drove home. But neither Jake nor Shelby’s vehicle was in her drive. The house was dark. Baffled, she circled the town in a fruitless search, then gave up and went to Annie’s house where she got a hair cut and some straight talk about getting the facts on Colt, and pronto.

  Admiring her feisty friend, Paula sighed. “I should be more like you, Annie.”

  “Red-haired, you mean?” Annie grinned and reached for a bottle of Miss Clairol in a wordless dare.

  It wasn’t what Paula meant. Nor could she explain why she was suddenly taken with the idea. But with a reckless shrug she countered, “Go ahead, Annie. I’m ready for a change.”

  The results were stunning. Paula left Annie’s house feeling fortified for “fact-gathering.”

  Afterward, Paula drove home to find a note from Shelby. She said she was sorry she hadn’t gotten the chance to thank her for her hospitality and say goodbye in person, but that she had decided to return to Chicago a day early. There were no lights on at Gram’s. Reluctantly, she decided it would be best to wait until morning to call Jake for feedback on the situation with Shelby as well as that strange phone call from Monique Lockwood.

  One thing was sure—she wasn’t about to let Colt get away with going behind her back, making plans for Joy to come visit. First order of business was to determine the circumstances that had led to him being homeless.

  Paula slept well and phoned Gram Kate’s house at six. Gram’s sister, Marge, answered the phone. She and her husband Hershel had come for the birthday party, and planned to stay a few days.

  After exchanging pleasantries with her, Paula asked to speak to Jake, only to learn he had left in the wee hours for Chicago.

  “Apparently he was anxious to iron out a little misunderstanding with Shelby,” offered Marge. “I’m glad we were here to be with Kate so he could go. Mercy, but her memory is bad. It just wouldn’t be safe to leave her to her own devices.”

  Paula visited a moment longer, then asked to speak with Joy.

  “She hasn’t come downstairs yet. I’ll wake her and have her call you back,” said Aunt Marge.

  The phone rang a moment later. It was Aunt Marge, calling to say Joy wasn’t there. Thinking she must have left to meet her friends, Paula drove over to the church. But Joy wasn’t among the young people who had convened there to prepare a sunrise pancake breakfast.

  Alarmed, Paula hurried to Gram Kate’s house. Her growing apprehension turned to panic when she found Joy’s h
eadphones and a telltale pad of sticky notes by the telephone in Jake’s study. The top one bore the inkless impression of a long-distance phone number that matched the last call on caller ID.

  Monique Lockwood! Paula dialed the number twice, but got no answer. Heart pounding, she switched on Jake’s computer, went online and secured the address from a reverse phone directory site.

  Chapter Two

  September sunlight streamed through the windows of the white Crown Vic that Paula had purchased secondhand from Gram Kate when Gram gave up driving. The brightness of it caught the fire in Paula’s vibrant hair. The hours-old color shift from dark auburn to a spirited red was light-years from her mind as she set out for Chicago. She was twenty minutes from home when her cell phone chirped.

  “Paula? It’s Jake. I’m in Chicago, at Shelby’s apartment. Joy’s here.”

  “At Shelby’s? What in the world is she… How did she get there?” cried Paula.

  “She caught a ride to Bloomington, took the bus here and caught a cab. Relax, she’s safe and sound,” he said quickly.

  “Thank God! Put her on.” Relieved tears blinding her, Paula pulled over to the side of the road.

  “Now before you go ballistic, keep it mind I was careful. Except for the scary dream I had when I dozed off, it was just a boring old bus ride,” said Joy before Paula could say a word.

  The conversation that followed did little to alleviate Paula’s long-term concerns. Joy’s intended meeting with Colt hadn’t materialized. Terse, willful and frustrated, Joy didn’t ask for Paula’s help. Or her understanding. Quite the reverse—she was openly defiant.

  Jake offered to bring Joy home with him that evening, saving Paula the trip. But Joy’s escapade solidified Paula’s determination to talk with Colt and determine her next move. She would do it in person, God willing.