Redemption by Karen Kingsbury Page A

through his nose and seemed to weigh the words he was about to say. “If that ever changes . . .” There was a glimmer of raw pain in his eyes, but it passed, and Ryan smiled. “You be a good girl and give me a call, okay?” He flashed her a familiar grin, finished the conversation, and jogged back to his fellow coaches.
    She and Ryan had spoken one other time at the track since then, but otherwise Ashley hadn’t seen him. For all she knew, he’d met someone and was dating by now.
    She looked down at her textbook and tried three times to read a single paragraph. Frustration worked its way through her veins, and without giving herself another chance, she shut the book and looked at the phone.
    It couldn’t hurt to call, right? He was probably listed. After all, he had asked her to call if anything changed.
    Kari’s words from the other morning filled Ashley’s mind. He’s my husband, Ashley . . . . If there’s a way to get past this thing, that’s what I want to do.
    But what about Ryan?
    Shouldn’t he know that Kari’s husband had abandoned her? Shouldn’t someone at least tell him what was going on?
    For the most part Ashley did not believe in prayer. But the childlike habit of conversing with God Almighty had stuck, and now and then—at times like this when she wasn’t sure what to do—she uttered a silent bit of conversation to the Lord.
    Nothing wrong with calling him, right, God?
    Ashley even tried to be still and listen for a response, but she heard nothing. Not that she was really expecting one.
    “Fine.” She stood up and chuckled to herself. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She walked across the kitchen, flipped through the phone book, but found no Ryan Taylor listed. The listing was probably too new.
    Feeling far more energized than she had moments earlier, Ashley tapped both sides of her head, and then it came to her. Clear Creek Community Church would have his number. Her mother and dad had seen him a few times at the Sunday night service.
    Ashley looked up the church and dialed as quickly as she could. Kari would be home soon, and Ashley wasn’t entirely sure if—
    “Clear Creek Community Church. May I help you?”
    Ashley resisted a smile. The church secretary always sounded so . . . well, so much like a church secretary. She was a seventyish woman who would have given a stranger the key to her house if it meant keeping him off the streets.
    “Hi, Mrs. Mosby. Ashley Baxter here. I have a quick favor to ask you.”
    “Oh, hello, dear.” Mrs. Mosby was one of the few people at Clear Creak Community who hadn’t made Ashley feel like dirt for coming home from Paris pregnant and single. “What can I do for you?”
    Ashley held her breath. “Remember Ryan Taylor?”
    “Yes, dear, of course.” She giggled politely as if the effect Ryan had on women was not limited by age. “He moved back to town and comes to the evening service every now and then.”
    Ashley swallowed. She hadn’t been to church since Easter, but she hoped Mrs. Mosby wouldn’t hold that against her. “If you don’t mind, I need his phone number. I must have misplaced it somewhere.”
    “Oh . . .” There was a pause, and Ashley could hear Mrs. Mosby searching. “Why, yes, dear. Here it is.” She rattled off the number and then clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I remember when your sister and Ryan were teenagers. She’d bring him to youth group, and all the other girls would get jealous.”
    “Yes.” Ashley smiled at the memory.
    “I feel guilty for saying this—” Mrs. Mosby lowered her voice—“but I always rather hoped Ryan would marry your sister.”
    A smile tugged at the corners of Ashley’s mouth, and she stared at the number she’d written down. “Yes, Mrs. Mosby. Me too.”
    “You know—” the older woman’s voice was wistful—“I think we all did.” Then she hastened to add, “But I was happy she married a nice Christian man.”
    Ashley didn’t answer that