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Deputy Chief of Police, came to stand beside him. “You think this was because of you, don’t you?”
    “Don’t you?” Charles gritted out.
    The uncertainty that flashed across Ryan’s face was answer enough. Then Ryan shrugged. “Probably, but I wouldn’t let it get to me. You know how people are, bro. Let it roll off your back.”
    “Not everyone feels that way, Charles,” Pastor Larch said from his left. Charles turned to see the compassionate gaze of the man. “Don’t let this run you off. You belong here just as much as the person who left that message.”
    “Thank you, Pastor, but I think it’s best if I just leave for now.” He appreciated the man’s reassurance, but the only thing he was interested in was getting his children and finding Demi.
    Charles touched Fiona’s arm to get her attention in the chaos. “Will you get the twins? I need to take care of something.”
    Concern reflected in her gaze, but instead of questioning him, she nodded. “Sure. We’re going to Dad’s for lunch.” She looked again at the front of the church where the message still blazed. “At least we were.”
    “I’ll be back in a minute.”
    He ran after Demi.
    * * *
    He means me, she thought. It was the same message as the one in the coffee can. I don’t belong here. He’s right. But how did he know that? And why make such a public display of it? To send her running?
    Did she belong anywhere? To anyone?
    Sobs crowded her throat as she made her way down the front steps of the church. She’d tried so hard to be brave, to believe the amnesia would go away and her memory would return.
    But it hadn’t.
    Tears slipped down her cheeks and she ignored them.
    Anger, self-pity and fear all swirled inside her. Why had she even bothered coming to church? Did she somehow think that by doing so she could make God happy and He would miraculously restore her memory?
    Maybe.
    Her sandaled feet slapped the sidewalk as she hurried toward her apartment. She would have to use the phone in The Reading Nook to call Charles and—
    Charles.
    She stumbled to a halt.
    And felt a heavy hand land on her arm.
    Gasping, she spun and saw Charles.
    “You s-scared me to death,” she stuttered.
    His grim mouth tightened even more. “I know. I seem to have that effect on most of the townspeople these days.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    His brows drew even closer together as he frowned. “What do you mean? Sorry for what? I’m the one who needs to apologize to you.”
    That stopped her. Drawing in a deep breath, she said, “Oh. Why?”
    “I suppose after that little surprise in the church, you’ve rethought your decision to work as the children’s nanny?”
    “What?” she blurted out. “No! I figured you wouldn’t want me anymore after…wait a minute. You think that message was for you?”
    “Well, of course, who else…” Realization dawned on him. “And you think it was for you.” His frown lightened a fraction. “But why?” When she didn’t answer right away, he said, “I think we need to talk.”
    She glanced behind him. “Where are the children?”
    “With Fiona.” His gentle hand swiped the tears from her cheeks leaving a heated trail behind.
    She flushed but hoped he would contribute that to the emotion of the moment. “Who would do such a thing?” she whispered.
    “I don’t know. I thought I saw the curtain moving before the lights went low, but I didn’t think much about it.” He swallowed hard. Looked away then back at her. “I have a confession to make.”
    “What?” Should she be worried?
    But his eyes were kind. Gentle. And sad. He lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. “I haven’t been to church in a while. I got tired of the stares, the accusing looks, the mamas hiding their children when I passed by.” He blew out a breath. “But today, I wanted to be there—” He met her eyes. “With you.” He gave a wry smile. “I fought in Iraq, toe-to-toe most days with some pretty harsh guys. But going to