Mending Places Read Online Free Page B

along the way, they had ceased being each other’s partner. Sometimes it seemed as if they were simply two people committed to the raising of their children, as if they were more like roommates than marriage partners.
    Natalie breathed a laugh and shook her head. For heavens sake, what right did she have to complain? So her marriage was lacking in the intimacy department. All relationships went through ups and downs, and this was such a busy time in their lives. It was only natural their relationship would suffer a little. Between Keith’s work schedule, Alex’s swimming classes, and her own involvement in Marriage Enrichment, just getting together was a feat. To say nothing of going out on a date. Who had time to find a responsible sitter?
    She finally reached the bottom of the pile and retrieved hangers for the last two pair of pants. Picking up the khakis she’d bought him for Christmas, she folded the pants at the creases and slung them over the hanger, arranging them just so. As she did, something fell to the ground, plunking softly on the carpet. She held the pants aside and looked down. It only took a moment for her to recognize the small square package between her stockinged feet. Disbelief fanned from her stomach outward to every nerve in her body, and the brand name printed on the white package blurred as every part of her body screamed in denial.

    Micah kicked off his boots, swept back the quilted cover, and fell onto the crisp, white sheets. When his head sank into the pillow, he grabbed the one beside it and stacked. The mattress was soft for a hotel bed, much softer than the one in his cabin had been.
    He allowed himself a moment of self-pity. He’d still be at his cabin if not for Fran. The woman just didn’t know how to take no for an answer. Lord knew, he’d used the word often enough where she was concerned. So much for integrity. It had gotten him nothing but fired. Five long years he’d put in at the Majestic, and what did he have to show for it? Not even a reference.
    He hadn’t planned to stop here after he’d packed up and driven off; he had planned to go into Jackson and buy a newspaper. But something had pulled him here.
Do You have some purpose for me here?
He paused, staring at the beamed ceiling, waiting for an answer. None came.
    Probably not. He’d seen the skepticism all over the manager’s face. She didn’t trust him, and he couldn’t blame her. Maybe he shouldn’t have told her about the situation with his former boss, but if he hadn’t, she would’ve either called Ben or turned him down. The way he saw it, he hadn’t had much choice.
    Oh well it’s in Your hands now, God.
If there were some purpose for him here, he’d get the job. If not, he’d drive into Jackson tomorrow and comb the help-wanted ads. He wasn’t too worried. He had money in the bank, enough to last a few months anyway.
    Besides, he wasn’t sure how he felt about working for a woman. An attractive one at that. Several years ago he’d have loved the situation, would’ve taken advantage of it. But he was different now.
    When his stomach rumbled, he realized he’d missed lunch. He sat up and rooted through his duffel bag for the apple he’d stuffed inside. Before he found it, he saw his Recovery Journal and pulled it out for later. His weekly meeting was tomorrow night, and he still hadn’t completed his assignment—had been dreading it all week. He’d cometo realize that getting over his past meant reliving things he’d rather forget, digging up the memories piece by piece and dissecting them until they were no longer painful. But it was hard. Agonizing. By now you’d think he’d have worked through it all, but there always seemed to be more sludge beneath the still waters.
    He bit off a chunk of apple and forced himself to think about the weekly topic. His earliest memory. He didn’t need to think long. It had been just after his fifth birthday, at Christmastime.
    He’d ripped a branch from a