âIâm not the kind of person
men want to marry.â
âYouâre not?â Kyleâs eyes did a head-to-toe scan of her. âWhy?â
âIâm not pretty,â Sara admitted, embarrassed. âI donât know anything about fashion or how to dress. I certainly donât know anything about love or, uh, romance. Iâve never even dated.â
âSara, not every man is concerned about glamour or looks. Not that you have to worry. Youâre a very beautiful woman.â He touched her arm as if to reinforce his words. âBut what matters most is that you have a generous, tender heart that cares for people. Thatâs the most attractive thing about you.â
Inside her heart the persistent flicker of admiration she always felt for him flared into a full-fledged flame. But Sara didnât know how to respond. If she wasnât careful, his kindness would coax her into confessing the ugliness of her past and then heâd see that she wasnât any of those things heâd said.
Chapter One
âIâve already told you, Marla. I donât want to get involved with this âLives Under Constructionâ place.â
The anger in the manâs voice and the mention of her new employer piqued Sara Kaneâs interest so much, she stopped reading her book on the northern lights.
âYes, Marla,â he said with a weary sigh. âI know you told me I need to get involved, that you believe it will facilitate my recovery. And I will get involved. Eventually. But I told you Iâm only going back home to Churchill to settle things. Iâm not looking to get involved and Iâm certainly not staying.â
Sara suddenly realized she was listening in on someoneâs private cell phone conversation. Shame suffused her, but it wasnât as if he was whispering!
Sara tried to refocus on her book but couldnât because he was speaking again.
âFine,â he agreed with some exasperation. âI promise you I will touch base with Laurel Quinn while Iâm there, since youâve already told her Iâm coming.â
Did that mean this man knew Laurel? Maybe he, like her, was one of Laurelâs former foster kids, Sara mused.
âBut touching base is all Iâm going to promise you, Marla. Youâve been a wonderful therapist, and I appreciate everything youâve done for me. But I have to stand on my own two feet now.â Though he barked out a laugh, Sara heard an underlying bitterness. âTwo feetâget it? That was supposed to be a joke.â
Sara didnât understand what was so funny, but then that wasnât unusual. At twenty-two, there were a lot of things she didnât understand. But she would. She was going to Churchill, Canada, to work, but while she was there she intended to do all the things sheâd missed during the ten miserable years sheâd been in foster care.
First on her to-do list was finding her birth mother.
âI donât know what my future plans are, Marla. Thatâs what I need to figure out.â The manâs voice suddenly dropped. âEverything I loved doing is impossible now.â
The words brimmed with such misery, Sara had to force herself not to turn around and comfort him.
Donât give up, she ached to tell him. Life will get better.
âYouâre breaking up, Marla. Iâll call you after I get to Churchill. Bye.â
Churchill, Manitoba. Her new home.
A wiggle of satisfaction ran through Sara. This was her chance to start over. This was her opportunity to figure out how to be like everyone else instead of always being the oddball, and how to have the life sheâd dreamed of for so long. Most of all, it was her opportunity to find the love she craved.