Black Sheep Son
Nothing about going home to Gordon Falls is easy for fireman Clark Bradens. His role as local bad boy is firmly established, though heâs determined to use his newfound faith to change peopleâs minds. But Clark isnât the only one coming home to hard times. When Melba Wingate came home from Chicago to help her ailing father, she wasnât expecting to unravel a family secret. As Melba wades through the past to find the truth about her father, Clark becomes an unlikely ally. And while neither can change the past, the future is theirs to shape.
âI never pegged you for the kind to come back home.â
It had to come up sooner or later. Clark sighed. He still hadnât come up with a graceful way to answer comments like that. âItâs not a new story. Bad boy goes off to the big city to find new ways to be bad, hits bottom, comes home a changed man.â Clark pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking that sounded arrogant. âOr hopes he comes home a changed man. Iâm still ironing out the kinks, as you already know.â
âI think I remember hearing something about an accident. Was that the bottom you hit?â Melba asked.
Calling that night an accident was like calling an earthquake a bump in the road. It wasnât the kind of thing Clark could share with just anyone, despite the warm look in Melbaâs eyes. She was dealing with her life tilting in a different direction, and he knew what that felt like. Maybe that was why he felt so drawn to her.
ALLIE PLEITER
Enthusiastic but slightly untidy mother of two, RITA® Award finalist Allie Pleiter writes both fiction and nonfiction. An avid knitter and unreformed chocoholic, she spends her days writing books, drinking coffee and finding new ways to avoid housework.Allie grew up in Connecticut, holds a B.S. in speech from Northwestern University and spent fifteen years in the field of professional fund-raising. She lives with her husband, children and a Havanese dog named Bella in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois.
And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and
make you strong, firm and steadfast.
â1 Peter 5:10
Chapter One
Melba Wingate pushed the button on the hospital cafeteria vending machine again. Please, Lord, I know this is Gordon Falls, but would it be too much to ask You to somehow send a grilled smoked gouda sandwich? She peered without hope into the little mechanized windows rotating toward her. Sad, sanitary wedges of breaded ham and tuna salad stuttered into view. Those, and something labeled asâbut barely resemblingâturkey. It had been a long day, and her last meal had been two packages of cheese crackers from this machine six hours ago. She sighed and let her head fall against the cold hum of the machine window.
âNo use looking for actual food in there.â
Melba turned to see a man leaning against the hallway wall, one of the offending wedges in his hand with a single bite taken out of it. âI donât recommend the tuna. Iâm not even sure Iâd recommend the bread.â
In dark pants and an official-looking white shirt, the man looked vaguely familiar. She felt as if she ought to know him by his red hair, but couldnât place the face. Just as she made out the name on his shirt badge, he extended a hand and said, âClark Bradens.â After a moment, he cocked his head to one side and said, âArenât you...?â just as Melba said her name.
âRight.â He nodded. âMortâs your dad. I heard youâd come back to town.â
The familiar face and red hair made instant sense. She offered what she hoped was a grin and pointed to his name badge. âYou were two years ahead of me in high school. George is your dad.â
He took a final begrudging look at the sandwich and tossed it into a nearby garbage can. âI heard they brought Mort in here the other day. Everything okay?â
âSome bug hit him hard, but heâll be fine.â She clutched her stomach, embarrassed at the loud growl it gave off. âI was trying to scare up some dinner, but I donât think I have too many edible options beside a Snickers bar here.â
âYou remember Dellioâs just down the street? Not too many problems in this world canât be improved with their good cheeseburgers, and itâd be a quick trip.â
Dellioâs had been a favorite of hers in high school, and while she didnât do cheeseburgers anymore, their fries could still taunt her from half a mile away. Melba salivated. âI donât eat meat. Anymore, I mean. And I canât really leave Dad.â