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her watch, held it to her ear, then sighed and let her hand drop back to her lap.
    Kyle wished Martha had not called again. It was too hard to talk with her. It brought up too many things she would rather keep locked away inside. Where was Martha’s God all those years when Martha’s own baby daughter was missing from her arms? Where was Kyle’s God now?

    The tap on Kenneth’s door had become a familiar sound over the past six weeks. “Am I disturbing you?” Abigail opened it a crack. “Are you ready?”
    â€œCome on in.” He pushed back in his chair. “I have one more letter to approve, and we can be on our way.”
    But instead of returning to the letter in front of him, he watched her enter, close the door, walk over, and sit down. Of all the traumas and stresses of the previous six weeks, nothing could have prepared him for the current situation with Abigail. The two of them were becoming friends. Not simply allies against the fear and the strain. Genuine friends. Abigail had the ability to say more with a lift of an eyebrow than most people could with an hour of words. And she knew the value of saying nothing at all, a quality he would never have expected to find in her. But it was there. And it had proven to be a powerful comfort.
    Abigail asked, “How is my girl doing?”
    â€œThere are good days and bad days,” Kenneth replied. “Today was a bad day.”
    â€œWhat happened?”
    He shook his head and sighed the words, “This is killing her, Abigail. I can’t blame her for what she said.”
    â€œOf course you can’t.” The normally proud features held a depth of feeling he would never have expected. “But it must still hurt terribly.”
    â€œI made the mistake of talking about business at the breakfast table this morning. I have a dozen things that have been put on hold since Charles was born, and I’ve got to move on them. I want her to know—”
    â€œDon’t tell her.” Abigail was firm, decisive. “Just do it.”
    â€œIt’s her company.”
    â€œNot right now it’s not,” Abigail said. “Her world holds no space for anything but worry and grief.”
    He nodded. Her determined stance helped mightily and granted Kenneth the ability to accept what he had not wanted to see. “Abigail, I owe you an apology.”
    â€œKenneth, there is absolutely no need—”
    â€œYes there is, and please let me say this.” He stopped and took a breath, trying to ease the pressure building inside. “Ever since we first met, I have seen you as an adversary.”
    â€œAnd with good reason.”
    â€œPlease, this is hard enough as it is,” he said, raising a hand. “All my life I have read about showing the love of God to others. Forgiving the wrongful acts as God forgets and forgives our own sins. And here, with my own mother-in-law, I have held on to my own barriers.” He had to stop there and breathe again. “I want to ask your forgiveness, Abigail.”
    â€œThere is nothing to forgive.”
    â€œYes, I do need your forgiveness. More than that, I don’t know what I would have done without you these past weeks. I don’t think I could have survived. I really don’t.”
    â€œStop, please, you’re going to make me cry.” Her mouth trembled between a sob and a smile.
    â€œI’d like you to give me another chance. See if I can be the friend you deserve. And the son-in-law.”
    Abigail reached inside her purse, pulled out a handkerchief, and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “There. See what you’ve made me do. Is my makeup a mess?”
    â€œYou look fine. As always.”
    She extracted a compact, examined herself, and closed it with a snap. “I will tell you something I have never told another soul. When my husband and I were first married, he was struggling to set up this company. It was touch and