jeans. Sam stepped from the car.
“Gabriel mentioned you were the escort. Jolly good to see you again, Cougar.”
“Hey, Brandon.”
Darcy watched the two men greet each other; it was indeed a small world. “Darcy, my friend Brandon Scott. He’s a good tactics man.”
She offered her hand. “High praise.”
“It’s a pleasure, Darcy.” Brandon settled the coat across her shoulders as luggage was gathered. “We made up the east guest room for you. And Gabriel mentioned I’m to ask what kind of bagels he’s to bring over later.”
“Oh, I’m getting spoiled already. Blueberry.”
Darcy relaxed as she stepped inside the familiar home. She was glad Marla and Gabe hadn’t yet had time to sell this house. It was spacious and comfortable and had a great view as it adjoined a stretch of forest preserve.
Sam came in behind her, carrying her suitcase and his bag. “Why don’t you get settled while I fix us something to eat? You’ll sleep better if you eat before you turn in.”
She nodded and turned toward the bedroom. Darcy took her time unpacking the bag she had picked up at her place. She put her diary on the end table and opened her Bible to read a verse she had underlined. “For God did not give us a spirit of timidity but a spirit of power and love and self-control.”
Time had always been one of the most overtaxed commodities in her life. She didn’t always have time to look something up or have the luxury of taking documents with her. It had always been what she had memorized that kept her safe and alive. Applied to Scripture, it was a habit that transformed her life.
This verse from 2 Timothy was a powerful one. The phrase “a spirit of power and love and self-control”—what a wonderful definition of balance. Take out any one of the three items and the other two led to extremes, but taken together they made greatness. The words reminded Darcy of her sister. Jesus, thanks for blessing me with great family.
She left the rest of her suitcase packed.
Sam was in the kitchen building a monster of a sub sandwich. She slid onto a stool and held her hand up, her thumb and index finger an inch apart. “I’d like about this much of that feast.”
“From the hot mustard end or plain?” Sam indicated options with the sharp knife he held.
“Hot.”
He sliced her a generous definition of an inch and slid the plate over. “Brandon mentioned there’s soup in the refrigerator. I can heat a bowl if you’d like something hot.”
“This is fine. You build a nice meal.” She broke off a piece of the crust. “Can you stay at least a day?” she asked, hoping she wouldn’t have to say good-bye as soon as she awoke.
“I’ll be here,” Sam promised. “Bear gave me seventy-two hours before he’ll send out search parties.” She raised one eyebrow. “My boss,” he explained.
She nodded and took a big bite of the sandwich. She found out quickly that she was hungry. Sam cut her another wedge without asking.
“I owe you a favor.”
He considered her over his sandwich. “Probably a couple.”
She laughed and leaned forward to rest her elbows on the counter. “Are you going to collect?”
“Eventually. Where do you actually live when you’re not hiding out, Darcy St. James retired?”
She speared a black olive that fell from her sandwich with a toothpick. “North Dakota.”
She saw him wince when he remembered his prior comment about being landlocked. “It’s peaceful,” she pointed out helpfully. “And it snows a lot. I like snow.”
“I remember the snow.”
“Your parents own a farm in South Dakota, right?”
“More like land with a little bit of everything on it.”
“It’s beautiful country.”
“My mother taught me never to disagree with a lady when she’s right.”
“Then why don’t you want to go back?”
“I’ve got two brothers who love the land. It’s enough.” He leaned over and wiped a spot of mustard from her chin. “You’re falling asleep sitting
“Gabriel mentioned you were the escort. Jolly good to see you again, Cougar.”
“Hey, Brandon.”
Darcy watched the two men greet each other; it was indeed a small world. “Darcy, my friend Brandon Scott. He’s a good tactics man.”
She offered her hand. “High praise.”
“It’s a pleasure, Darcy.” Brandon settled the coat across her shoulders as luggage was gathered. “We made up the east guest room for you. And Gabriel mentioned I’m to ask what kind of bagels he’s to bring over later.”
“Oh, I’m getting spoiled already. Blueberry.”
Darcy relaxed as she stepped inside the familiar home. She was glad Marla and Gabe hadn’t yet had time to sell this house. It was spacious and comfortable and had a great view as it adjoined a stretch of forest preserve.
Sam came in behind her, carrying her suitcase and his bag. “Why don’t you get settled while I fix us something to eat? You’ll sleep better if you eat before you turn in.”
She nodded and turned toward the bedroom. Darcy took her time unpacking the bag she had picked up at her place. She put her diary on the end table and opened her Bible to read a verse she had underlined. “For God did not give us a spirit of timidity but a spirit of power and love and self-control.”
Time had always been one of the most overtaxed commodities in her life. She didn’t always have time to look something up or have the luxury of taking documents with her. It had always been what she had memorized that kept her safe and alive. Applied to Scripture, it was a habit that transformed her life.
This verse from 2 Timothy was a powerful one. The phrase “a spirit of power and love and self-control”—what a wonderful definition of balance. Take out any one of the three items and the other two led to extremes, but taken together they made greatness. The words reminded Darcy of her sister. Jesus, thanks for blessing me with great family.
She left the rest of her suitcase packed.
Sam was in the kitchen building a monster of a sub sandwich. She slid onto a stool and held her hand up, her thumb and index finger an inch apart. “I’d like about this much of that feast.”
“From the hot mustard end or plain?” Sam indicated options with the sharp knife he held.
“Hot.”
He sliced her a generous definition of an inch and slid the plate over. “Brandon mentioned there’s soup in the refrigerator. I can heat a bowl if you’d like something hot.”
“This is fine. You build a nice meal.” She broke off a piece of the crust. “Can you stay at least a day?” she asked, hoping she wouldn’t have to say good-bye as soon as she awoke.
“I’ll be here,” Sam promised. “Bear gave me seventy-two hours before he’ll send out search parties.” She raised one eyebrow. “My boss,” he explained.
She nodded and took a big bite of the sandwich. She found out quickly that she was hungry. Sam cut her another wedge without asking.
“I owe you a favor.”
He considered her over his sandwich. “Probably a couple.”
She laughed and leaned forward to rest her elbows on the counter. “Are you going to collect?”
“Eventually. Where do you actually live when you’re not hiding out, Darcy St. James retired?”
She speared a black olive that fell from her sandwich with a toothpick. “North Dakota.”
She saw him wince when he remembered his prior comment about being landlocked. “It’s peaceful,” she pointed out helpfully. “And it snows a lot. I like snow.”
“I remember the snow.”
“Your parents own a farm in South Dakota, right?”
“More like land with a little bit of everything on it.”
“It’s beautiful country.”
“My mother taught me never to disagree with a lady when she’s right.”
“Then why don’t you want to go back?”
“I’ve got two brothers who love the land. It’s enough.” He leaned over and wiped a spot of mustard from her chin. “You’re falling asleep sitting
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