The Winding Road Home by Sally John

Please.”
    Evidently on hold, Adele looked at Kate. “This will only take a minute. It has to be taken care of right now. I’ll pay you for—Gracie!”
    Kate watched as the easygoing, artistic woman she was beginning to know switched places with a dragon lady.
    â€œWhat happened yesterday with Mr. Jennings?” Now Adele’s mouth was the grim line. “Mr. Logan was upset and referred to Fox Meadow as a one-horse operation. We’re looking like one. Why was the medication administered late two times?”
    Her foot was tapping again. One hand was propped on a hip.
    â€œTell her she is skating on thin ice. She will be fired if this happens again. And I want you to get the doctor there today…I don’t care what day it is. This is his job. Mr. Jennings probably needs his dosage increased…Yes…All right. Call me at home later. Thanks, Gracie.” She handed the phone to Kate. “Thanks.”
    â€œWhew. Guess that’s why you’re the director.”
    Adele shook her head. “No, that’s why I shouldn’t get distracted by good-looking friends of the family.” She blew out a breath. “Okay. I’d better go sing and try to remember how to be nice.” She clanked her teeth together in a forced grin and walked away.
    No two ways about it, the woman was in denial.

    Kate and Tanner sat on a padded pew along a side aisle in the church sanctuary. Naturally, because he had arrived late, they weren’t far from the pulpit.
    She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled inwardly. Hunched over, arms crossed on knees, eyes glued on the pastor, he appeared deep in thought. Kate hoped so. Fun and carefree as Tanner behaved, she sensed that something disturbing lay at the root of his casual meandering through life. Something that only divine intervention could heal.
    He had called her early in the morning, inviting her to explore the video store. The real estate agent was scheduled to meet him there at one-thirty. Tanner said he could use a female’s opinion on the task before him.
    She found it interesting that he noticed she was a female. Their rapport was so in tune, it was as if gender didn’t even play a role. They were friends, buds, pals, chums, amigos. In the short time since they’d met, they had “hung” together as though they’d been doing it for years.
    Given Chelsea’s strong opinion of his looks—since verified by a boatload of girl basketball players and their mothers— Kate knew the guy must have a string of gorgeous women waiting with bated breath for such an invitation. Women who paid close attention to style and lipstick application.
    She accepted his offer, with a caveat. It was her turn to introduce him to a Valley Oaks niche that positively overflowed with that special magic.
    â€œHey,” he had said, “I’m the expert.”
    â€œDo you know about VOCC?”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œThe Community Church.”
    Silence.
    â€œYeah, I didn’t think so. Meet me there at the front door, ten-twenty. It’ll be good for business.”
    â€œIf I don’t show, does that mean you don’t show?”
    â€œThat’s the deal.”
    â€œSome friend you’re turning out to be. All right. Ten-twenty.”
    The challenge had worked.
    She looked at him again now, noting his rapt attention. Though she had only heard Pastor Peter twice, she sensed he was typically engrossing. Redheaded, Chicago-accented, burly, and streetwise, he captured the essence of Scripture in laymen’s terms without masking the unexplicable of the holy.
    A guy’s guy. Someone Tanner could relate to.
    Thank You, Father.

    Tanner peered over Kate’s shoulder at the bubbling pot of chili she stirred. She had invited him for lunch after church. Because the Chandlers were going to Rockville, she was in charge of the kitchen.
    â€œMmm,” he said, “I