To Heal A Heart (Love Inspired) by Arlene James

interested in speaking to him.
    The other two contacts, one a letter and one a telephone message, would take more time to follow up on, but Mitch felt encouraged to still be receiving any communications connected with the airline notice. He prayed regularly for the person who had lost the letter, but he no longer felt the sense of urgency that he had in the beginning. Urgency had been replaced by eagerness. He strode down the sidewalk with long, swift strides and a smile.
    He spotted her standing beside a bench with her hands on her hips, tapping a toe. A wave of his hand sent her plopping down onto the hard stone seat. By the time he reached her side, she was munching a sandwich pensively. He dropped down beside her, abandoned his lunch bag to the vacant spot next to him and leaned close.
    “What’s wrong?”
    She lowered the sandwich to her lap and looked up at him with stormy amber eyes that flicked back and forth across his for several seconds. Then she dropped her gaze, bowed her head and in a small voice said, “Nothing.”
    He didn’t believe it for an instant. His hand gravitated to her back, coming to rest between her shoulder blades. She didn’t seem to mind. Perhaps she didn’t even realize. Perhaps his touching her felt as natural to her as it did to him.
    “Rough morning?”
    She nodded.
    “Want to tell me about it?”
    She dipped her head a little lower, but then looked up, briefly met his eyes with hers and shook her head very gently. She’d plaited only the top part of her hair that morning, leaving the braid to hang down against the thick, bright curtain of her hair in back. He thought it the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen and only just restrained himself from stroking his hand over the shiny tresses when she sighed.
    “I’m just in a lousy mood.”
    “Let’s see if we can find a little help for that,” he said. Closing his eyes, he began to pray in a quiet voice. “Gracious Lord God, You have given us a glorious day, and an hour of it to spend together. We thank You for that and for this food we ask You to bless and for all the many other ways in which You show us Your love. Whenever the world beats us down, Lord, You always stand ready to pick us up again. Please lift up Piper now, Father. Let her feel Your love throughout the afternoon and always. Amen.”
    When he looked up again, he found her blinking a wet sheen from her eyes. An anemic smile trembled across her lips. He realized he was holding her tightly against his side; his arm had slipped around her fully at some point. She seemed to realize it at the same time and stiffened slightly.
    He quickly released her, asking, “Better?”
    The smile grew a little more robust. “Yes, thank you.” She settled back a bit and lifted her sandwich toward her mouth. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
    He remembered the brown paper bag at his side. “Oh, sure.”
    As he pulled out hard-boiled eggs, a hunk of cheese, crackers and pickled peppers, she commented wryly, “Having your heat with a side of cholesterol, I see.”
    He chuckled. “The peppers aren’t that hot, and my cholesterol is fine, thank you very much. I just didn’t have a lot in my fridge this morning.”
    “I see.” Her sandwich in her lap, she broke the seal on a bottle of water. “Nothing in there to drink, I take it.”
    He made a face, only then realizing that he’d forgotten the beverage. “Well, like I said, the peppers aren’t that hot.”
    She produced the cap off a thermos bottle and poured water into it for herself, passing the water bottle to him. He saluted her with it.
    “Thanks.”
    “Think nothing of it.”
    He thought plenty of it—and her—but he just smiled and gobbled his lunch.
     
     
    Piper watched him eat the fourth boiled egg and the last of the peppers with a shake of her head.
    “What?” he asked, swallowing.
    “Oh, nothing. It’s just that, for someone I hardly know, I sure have seen you eat a lot. This is our third meal