Still, she hated that he’d put her in this difficult situation. It wasn’t fair. Looking away from Michael, her gaze fell upon a series of framed photographs of Michael and Sharla. They were scattered across the fireplace mantel, the coffee table and the built-in bookcases. Then she saw the Barbie backpack in the corner and nearby it was a stack of The Baby-Sitters Club books. Why she hadn’t noticed these things immediately, she wasn’t sure. But it was suddenly clear that this was Sharla’s home, as much as it was Michael’s.

She was still determined to say no until her gaze met Michael’s.

Before she could speak, he said, “If you’re willing to travel halfway around the world to save children, is it really too much to ask you to save the girl next door?”

Josie froze. He had no idea how deeply his twisted logic had pierced her heart.

“Sleep on it,” he urged.

“Please, don’t put this burden on me, Michael,” she said.

Giving up on sleep, Josie unlocked the antique trunk that had sat at the foot of her bed since she was a teenager. The black trunk had belonged to Gran, her mother’s mother, and had traveled around the world and back home many times. It was Gran who had nurtured Josie’s desire to work with less fortunate children. Following in this beloved woman’s footsteps had seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Though she’d had no idea then how much that decision would cost her.

The stiff hinges creaked with age as Josie lifted the lid and propped it open with a pillow. This was her treasure chest, though there were few items in it with material value. On top, wrapped securely, she found a delicate lead crystal angel Gran had sent her from Ireland, and below it, a beautiful hand-painted tea set from England. Both were things she planned to one day display in her own home.

Lately, she’d been having thoughts of settling down and getting married, starting a family of her own. But not one of those daydreams had included Michael Rawlins.

Josie slowly dug to the bottom of the trunk, respectful of the memories she disturbed. She felt the bundle of letters before she saw them, and chills traveled up her arms the minute she touched the sheaves of yellowed paper.

Slowly, as if she feared they might crumble, she pulled them to the top of the trunk, then carefully untied the pale-blue ribbon that bound the past. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she began to randomly read the letters. The loving words took her back to another time, a time when she had loved Michael with her whole heart.

Even though she resented his forcing her into such an awkward situation, she understood he sought her help because of the depth of love they had once known. Was it possible she somehow owed it to him to say yes?

No, she didn’t think she owed him anything. At least, nothing like this. But still, she couldn’t walk away from his plea. What if she turned him down and he lost custody of Sharla? Could she live with that? Yet, were there any guarantees he would be granted custody even if they did marry?

With a blanket in tow, Josie moved to the spacious window seat where she snuggled amongst her childhood stuffed animals and dolls. On every trip home, she offered to pack her things and store them in the attic. Her mother always refused, somehow understanding what a comfort it was to Josie to come home to familiar surroundings.

In this room, she’d learned to pray as a child. Diligently, her mother had taught her to be thankful for the good times and to seek God in the difficult. Each night before sleep she had thanked God for her parents and good teachers and plenty of food. When she was older, and her cat had died, she’d prayed God would take care of Whiskers. Her first real challenge had been the death of her grandfather. Holding her mother’s hand, she had sat by this window and prayed to God for understanding and to ease her pain. And He had heard her. She’d felt His comfort and His love. But those had been simpler times with less complicated prayers.

Tonight, as she looked toward the heavens, knocking on God’s prayer door, no one answered. For a long time, she sat in silence, trying to make sense of her feelings, but coming to no real conclusion.

It wasn’t right to marry a man she didn’t love—no matter how honorable the reason. With that thought, Josie finally fell asleep with her head resting on a tattered teddy bear.

Late-morning sun and shrill laughter woke her. She stretched her neck from side to side, working out the kinks, then lifted her hands above her head while flexing her shoulders. Her muscles were cramped by the tight quarters, and her head felt heavy from troubled sleep.

When she heard the laughter a second time, Josie parted the sheer curtain and looked down on Michael’s yard. She recognized Sharla instantly. One long, dark braid adorned with bright-purple ribbons hung down the child’s back. Judging by her matching shorts, T-shirt and sandals, she adored purple.

With a huff, Sharla deposited a flat of begonias near the side of the house. Near a long flower bed that had recently been prepared for planting, bags of mulch waited to complete the job. A few seconds later, Michael appeared with another flat of flowers.

Using her hand as a sun visor, Sharla looked at Michael. “How many flowers will it take?”

“You tell me.” Michael dusted his hands against the backside of his jeans.

Pressing her ear against the window in order to hear better, Josie smiled. Michael was forever the teacher.

Sharla shrugged her shoulders. “It’s going to take a lot of flowers.”

Turning their backs to Josie, Michael and Sharla measured off a few feet of bed and then pointed to the first flat of flowers. They measured off a second strip, and he pointed to the next flat. This continued until they reached the end of the bed. Using her fingers to count with, Sharla arrived at a number and Michael beamed with approval.

Time slipped away as the two worked. Michael dug the holes, and Sharla shoved the small plants into the soil. Together they pushed the dirt around the base of each plant, working their way toward the end of the flower bed.

When loose hair hung across Sharla’s face, Michael smoothed it back into place. The second Michael pointed at a hoe or trowel, Sharla eagerly retrieved it. They didn’t seem uncomfortable in the growing heat. They were a team. Even from a second-story window, the trust and understanding between the man and child were clear.

Though Josie kept thinking she needed to take a shower and see what her parents had planned for the day, she couldn’t tear herself away from the window. Finally, the flowers were planted, and Michael turned the hose on to water them. It started out innocently, but within minutes the hose was flinging back and forth, and both Sharla and Michael were drenched. Their joyous screams raised goose bumps on the back of Josie’s neck. The love between Michael and Sharla was so strong she could feel it. It was so compelling she longed to be a part of it.

Josie took a deep breath. She had her answer. She knew what she had to do.

The sun had set, and the sky was darkening by the time Michael returned from dropping Sharla off at her grandmother’s. Josie waited for him on his back steps.

Michael slowed his pace as soon as he saw her. Though he quickly squared his shoulders and raised his chin, he was unable to hide the dejected look in his eyes. After spending the day with Sharla, he had to miss her fiercely at night.

“I didn’t know you were such a gardener,” she said.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

While that might be true, it was obvious he was still a good man at heart. That was one of the reasons she’d made the decision she had.

“We need to talk,” she said.

Keeping a short distance between them, he said, “Go ahead.”