Josh stepped into the closet
He grinned when he found Amy still stretched out on the floor. âComfy down there?â he asked.
âSeems I have a knack for sending Daniel running.â She struggled to her feet, struggled not to need the reassurance she got just from being close to him.
Facing the world alone was something she was getting good at. What sheâd told herself she wanted. But the world was tougher to handle by the hour. And being around Josh so much was making alone feel a lot more lonely.
He offered his hand, and nothing could have kept her from taking it.
âYouâre a miracle worker.â The warmth radiating from his touch held her captive. âIâve been trying to get Daniel out of here for an hour.â
The professional principal and the friend from her youth were nowhere to be found at the moment. All Amy could see was the ruggedly handsome man before her. A concerned, caring man whoâd do anything to help his nephew. The man sheâd forced herself to turn away from just hours earlier.
What would it feel like to have those strong arms wrapped around her?
It would feel like a really bad idea, she warned herself.
Dear Reader,
Through programs like Stephen Ministries and Rainbows, Iâve been privileged over the years to walk alongside parents and children struggling to rebuild their lives after a family has come undone. What is lost when a marriage fails or a parent dies is not just the family that was known, but also the future that was dreamed of. And whatâs left behind are single parents and children who are grieving, and who are often overwhelmed by the simple question, What do I do now?
Single parents are some of the strongest, most courageous people Iâve ever met. Their lives are filled with private battles, daily failures and victories that the outside world rarely sees. And yet they keep fighting, conquering one day at a time until theyâve made a new life for themselves and the children they cherish.
While the challenges facing my hero and heroine as they create A Family for Daniel are fictional, I pray Iâve done justice to the real single mothers and fathers out there who are fighting daily for the special kids in their lives. God bless you all!
Anna DeStefano
To Jan, Brenda and Julie, whoâve shown me the everyday sacrifice, courage and strength required to be a single working mother.
And to Dianna Love Snell and the power of road-trip brainstorming. I thank you, and Daniel thanks you.
LIFE JUST SUCKED sometimes.
Thatâs what Danielâs psyâ¦psychol⦠Thatâs what the stupid doctor his uncle made him talk to said. Life could suck, for kids most of all. But when you get through the bad stuff, Dr. Steve said, thereâs a world of good things waiting on the other side.
Just wait and see.
Life will get better.
Trudging down the hallway of White Elementary School, headed for the principalâs office for the second time that week, Daniel rolled his eyes. Dr. Steve didnât have a clue.
Daniel had to get out of this place. But where? Where did he have to go? Back to his uncleâs home? There was only there or here, which left Daniel exactly where heâd been for the last four months.
Nowhere.
Forget Dr. Steve.
There was no bright side just around the corner.
Danielâs mother was dead. His chest heaved from the sharp pain that came, even as he shoved the memory aside. His dad had split years ago, never to be heard from again. Living in Sweetbrook, South Carolina, with his uncle wasnât working, no matter how hard Daniel tried.
Life just sucked. Period.
He turned left at the end of the hall and shuffled into the bustling school office. His sneaker caught as he stepped from the tiled floor onto carpet. Arms and legs flailing, he managed not to fall on his face. Barely. But now every person in the room was staring at him, when what he really wanted was to be invisible.
âHave a seat.â Mrs. Lyons pointed to the ugly couch the kids called death row. âPrincipal Whiteâs expecting you, but heâs on the phone.â
Mrs. Lyons had worked here for over forty years, heâd heard. Sheâd worked here when his uncle was in elementary school. Rumor had it his uncle had done his own time on death row. Maybe sheâd pointed that same bony finger at him. Maybe sheâd stared him down like he was trouble, too.
Probably not. What could his perfect, by-the-book uncle have done to match the mess Daniel made out of school every day?
He dropped onto the couch and gave Mrs. Lyons his best glare. He kept right on staring, until she looked away. He knew exactly what she was thinking. What they were all thinkingâthe teachers and everyone. Heâd heard them talking when they didnât think he was listening. Heâd seen the looks on their faces, just like the one on Mrs. Lyonsâs now. And he hated them all. Hated their nosey questions, the way they pretended to understandâ¦.