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I take my clothes to a dry cleaner. And so, uh—” he surveyed the others “—why did you change the moving date? I thought we had settled on tomorrow.”
    “The motel rented out their room,” Lara explained. “Once the Murayas gave notice they were moving, the manager found a replacement very quickly.”
    “I see.” Jeremiah met her green eyes and instantly regretted it. She hadn’t bothered with makeup today, and her freckles were dancing wildly across her nose. Her cheeks had a bright glow, and her hair was just begging for his touch.
    “Well then,” he said. “I guess that’s the way it is.”
    “Yep. Adaptability,” she told him. “Life is all about being adaptable. So, you’re sure about the mattresses, because I’ve lugged these about all I want to for one evening.”
    “Absolutely. We’ll put them in the guest garage.”
    Before she could say anything else, Jeremiah set to work tugging the saggy old bedding out of the station wagon. Peter, Daniel and Benjamin joined in immediately. Before long, they had succeeded in hauling the Murayas’ mattresses into the garage and returning the beds to their former place inside the cottage. As the men worked, Jeremiah stripped off his jacket and tie, and by the time the puppy had said howdy four or five more times, he was a muddy, sweating mess.
    “I brought several boxes of donated food from my church pantry,” Lara called out to the parade of men moving in and out of the house. She stood behind a marble-topped counter as she taught Tabitha how to use the stove and microwave. “They’re in my car. If you guys could get those, we’ll set up the kitchen.”
    Jeremiah glanced at her as he started outside again. What on earth was he doing? He had planned to build a nice blaze in the fireplace in his room, dine on leftovers from the night before and relax with a book before an early bedtime. Instead, he was dragging around bedraggled old mattresses and fending off a puppy determined to change the color of his charcoal suit to a nice shade of mud.
    “Oh, by the way, Jeremiah, how was your meeting?” Lara asked when he passed her. “The one you had the other day.”
    He paused to think for a second. He wasn’t used to anyone knowing his business. Or caring.
    She clarified, “You’re remodeling a shoe factory in St. Louis?”
    “Yes. Fine. They approved the project.” He considered following his sons back outside but paused again. “Is moving students around part of your job description?”
    “About half of what I do isn’t official.”
    “Just a freebie?” he asked.
    She smiled. “The best things in life are free, or so they tell me.”
    “I do read the Bible, you know. I understood what you meant the other day—Christ’s death on the cross, the ultimate, undeserved freebie. Is that why you do all this? Somehow trying to pay Him back?”
    “That’s not possible. Free is free. No repayment required.”
    “Then why? It’s obviously more than a job.”
    Lara glanced at Tabitha, who was murmuring approval and awe as she inspected the contents of the kitchen cabinets. Then Lara’s eyes focused on the man who stood nearby, pinning him down as she assessed him.
    “You know, I’ve been thinking about pizza,” she said. “A couple of large pepperonis. Delivered. Could you take care of that, Jeremiah?”

Chapter Three
    L ara wrapped a string of melted cheese three times around her index finger and popped it into her mouth. As she drew it back out again, she caught Jeremiah Maddox watching her.
    “I realize this is my third slice,” she said with a trace of guilt. “I skipped lunch.”
    He shrugged. “Eat as much as you want.”
    She gave him a faint smile and glanced toward the couch, where four sets of shoulders hunched over plates of pepperoni pizza as cartoons flashed across the television screen. The boys had decided the small dining table was too crowded with adults, and the TV held more appeal than the African history lesson Peter