A Journey by Chance by Sally John

on a book tour or something for the new release?”
    â€œJust got back. I have a couple of things coming up in August, but then I’ll stay put through harvest season. I can pretty much make my own schedule.”
    â€œHow did you come up with the idea? I mean, a fictionalized account of Jesus’ life? For adults?”
    Brady settled back into his seat. “I just always wondered what went on between the lines in the Bible. Really, what was it like to walk for miles on end wearing sandals? And the people who came to Him, what were their personalities, their backgrounds? I guess I’ve been imagining for a long time. Church was pretty boring when I was a teenager.”
    â€œDid you major in creative writing?”
    â€œNah. Agriculture with a minor in English.” He grinned. “For real. You can’t make a living at writing. I taught English for five years at a high school over in the next county. Writing and farming kept getting in the way. Now I write full time, but still help out on the farm with my dad and brother.”
    â€œDo you have any sis—” Gina stopped herself.
    â€œTwo living sisters. And then, of course, there’s Rosie. You’re missing the sights.” He nodded toward the window. The bus had stopped again.
    â€œBrady, I didn’t know about Rosie until three days ago.”
    He stared at her, disbelief wrinkling his brow. His jaw muscles tensed. “How could you not know?”
    â€œMy parents never told me.”
    â€œThat’s outrageous! The entire town has known for 35 years.”
    â€œWell, I’m not part of the entire town. My mother had her reasons. It’s not like it would have made a difference to anybody in San Clemente, California, that my mother made a mistake at the age of 18.”
    He shook his head. “It’s our personal history, which makes it public record in Valley Oaks, which means it was often referred to in my presence.” There was an edge to his voice. “It had a hand in shaping who I am.”
    Obviously she had hit a nerve with this subject, but that didn’t give him the right to fuss at her. “It’s not my fault, is it?”
    He exhaled. “No, it’s not your fault that your mother left Valley Oaks.”
    Gina was stunned. That was the problem? Not that a child was conceived out of wedlock and the teenagers married too soon, but that her mother had moved? She sensed it best to probe no further. She and Brady were, after all, just strangers, thrown together for a brief moment in time for the sole purpose of participating in a wedding.

Eleven
    â€œI said I’ll take Gina home.” Brady’s tone was adamant, almost belligerent.
    Liz laughed. “Okay, okay. She’s all yours.”
    Having just returned from Chicago, the group of six stood on the quiet street outside Lauren’s apartment building. It was after ten o’clock. In the dim light of a street lamp they unpacked the van and discussed the most logical way for the other five to go home in two vehicles. It was becoming obvious that Brady’s tolerance threshold for illogical women had been crossed.
    â€œI don’t know,” Isabel mused. “You sound a little cranky. Maybe we shouldn’t let her go with you.”
    Brady grabbed Gina’s one shopping bag from the pile and headed across the street to his truck. “Good night, ladies,” he called over his shoulder.
    â€œIsabel!” Lauren hissed. “Stop giving him such a hard time! We want them to be alone together.” She gave Gina a quick hug and sang out, “Thanks, Brady!”
    The others chorused their thanks while Gina followed the guy who was becoming her all-too familiar escort. At this point she was too tired to care who drove her home. Once again she climbed into Brady Olafsson’s truck.
    They rode in silence. It had been a long day. She enjoyed the delicious Italian dinner, but the slow, busy