Love Inspired May 2015 #2 by Missy Tippens, Jean C. Gordon, Patricia Johns

keep him? Would her life be full and happy now?
    Violet dabbed the cool cloth to her neck. Took several deep breaths to gather herself. She’d come to lunch to get to know Jake better. But she’d ended up faced with her own baggage.
    Being around Abigail was messing with her mind.
    Being around Jake was making her feel vulnerable, as if his good opinion mattered.
    But she didn’t need Jake or his good opinion. She didn’t need anyone.
    * * *
    Jake jolted awake to total quiet. Bolted straight up in bed, looking at the clock. Five-thirty in the morning. Panic sent his heartbeat racing. Was something wrong with Abigail?
    He sprinted to her room and stood over the travel crib. Her deep, even breaths left him weak-kneed with relief, his reaction to Abigail sleeping through the night exactly as Violet had said it might be.
    Apparently, they’d worn out the little gal with their trip to Atlanta the day before.
    Eager to see if Remy had emailed him, he hurried to the kitchen, bypassed the coffeepot and went straight to his laptop.
    An email from the shelter director was in his box. Once again, his heart raced. This could be big news.
    Clicking on the message, he held his breath.
    Dear Mr. West,
    At this time, Remy is not willing to share her contact information. However, she gave me permission to pass along this message:
    Jake, I appreciate you caring. I’m doing well. But I have no desire for contact since it will be easier on me, and better for the baby, to make a clean break.
    Love, Remy
    Jake jammed a hand through his hair.
The baby.
Remy hadn’t even called Abigail by her name. As if distancing herself from her child.
    At this time?
Did that mean Ms. Phillips thought Remy would change her mind down the road? Was it a subtle message to be patient and not give up?
    This cloak-and-dagger stuff was going to make him crazy.
    He needed to talk to Violet. To get her take on the email. Maybe she’d be on her patio having her morning coffee and watching the sunrise.
    He stepped outside and, sure enough, she sat in the semi-dark in shorts and a T-shirt...barefoot...leaning over the table, the light from her tablet illuminating her face.
    Always busy, always working. As if she felt she couldn’t afford to stop.
    Or didn’t deserve to?
    Not wanting to startle her by calling out her name, he stepped into his yard and waved until she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and looked up.
    â€œGood morning. Can you come over when you get a minute?”
    â€œSure.” She carried her tablet and coffee mug back into her house and then a moment later reappeared wearing flip-flops.
    â€œHey,” he said when she met him in his yard, looking bright-eyed and sunny...beautiful without makeup, even with a little poof on one side of her hair, as if she’d gone straight from bed to her morning routine.
    â€œGood morning.”
    An awkward silence fell over them. There was something intimate about meeting before dawn in the middle of dewy grass, her hair rumpled from sleep.
    He coughed and shoved the thought out of his mind. “Um. I got an email from the director.”
    â€œReally? That’s great news.”
    â€œNo, it’s not good news. Do you have time to come read it?”
    She nodded and followed him inside.
    Violet took a seat at the table, tapped the touchpad to wake the laptop and stared at the screen. Her eyebrows drew downward as she read. “I guess this is good news and bad.”
    He sat beside her, leaning his arms on the table. “Definitely see the bad. How do you see good?”
    â€œSomeone responsible knows where Remy is so that means she’s probably safe.”
    â€œGood point. I got so caught up on Remy wanting a clean break that I didn’t think of that.”
    â€œBut this also confirms her connection to the shelter, which means she has been, maybe still is, a victim of domestic abuse—horrific to consider.” Violet looked