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42. Wounded

43. Aftermath

44. Room to Heal

45. The Aggie

46. Counting to Ten

47. Meeting the Commanding Officer

Special Preview…

A Message from Jen

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Also by Jenifer Carll-Tong

1
Meeting the Constable

"Next stop – Lansing!"

The landscape flew by, just like it had so many times before, but Phoebe didn't notice. How many times had she taken this trip? Too many to count, but this time was different. This time, she was coming home for good.

Here she was, a Bible College graduate, bound for home to begin the rest of her life. She only wished she knew what the rest of her life looked like.

"Lansing!" shouted the conductor, startling Phoebe. She was so lost in her own musings that she hadn't realized how close she was to home. She finally looked out her window at the scenery that she'd been ignoring. Farmland stretched out, like an ocean of tilled dirt, touching the sky where the Earth seemingly dropped off and the sky took over. There was little to differentiate this land from the countless miles that she had already passed, except for the occasional oak standing in the middle of a field, left untouched by the farmer, his crops just encircling these massive trees - as if giving respect to their impressive elder.

Phoebe then looked at the ground closer to the train. At this speed, the vegetation close to the tracks was nothing more than a blur. Phoebe couldn't help but think that it was exactly the opposite in life. "God only allows us to see clearly what is right in front of us," she thought to herself, "but beyond today and tomorrow, the future is all a blur."

The train chugged as it slowed its pace. A woman across the aisle rose and began to gather her things, but Phoebe knew better; she had taken this train far too many times to fall for the deceivingly slow pace the train was now making, though the temptation to stand and stretch one's legs was difficult to resist. She kept her seat and watched as the train jerked to its final stop, sending the woman, valise in hand, careening backward. Had it not been for the gentleman in the seat behind her jumping to her aid, she would have surely fallen flat on her backside.

The rest of the scene played out as Phoebe could have predicted: the woman thanked the gentleman, he said something in return - which caused her to blush, and then the real flirting began. It took everything in Phoebe's whole being to not roll her eyes at the display. She had never been one to participate in such ridiculous activities as fawning and flirting. But, maybe, she should have tried. Maybe she could have spent a little more time trying to impress the men she attended school with. Maybe she should have attempted the practice of flirtation like her sisters were always encouraging her to do.

Maybe then…

"Oh, what does it even matter," Phoebe muttered. She exhaled deeply. God could have provided, but he'd chosen not to. There was no use dwelling on what wasn't meant to be.

Phoebe turned her attention to gathering her things and then headed for the exit. The sun shone bright as she departed the train, and she had to squint to see around. Her hazy perception of her surroundings reminded her of her earlier observation.

'Well,' she thought, 'I may not be able to see all of what's ahead, but with God's help, I can handle whatever lies directly in front of me.'

With a new-found resolve, Phoebe squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and took her first step into her future. Unfortunately, that first step got caught somewhere in her skirts. She flew, unable to slow her descent, and would have landed in a very unladylike manner on the train station platform had God not intervened and landed her into the arms of a Michigan State Constable.

The officer's uniform scratched where it touched her soft skin, his firm arms and chest instantly removing the fear that had only seconds ago engulfed her, replacing it with an admittedly delightful yet unfamiliar feeling of warmth.

"Oh, my!" was all she was able to sputter. The constable had saved her from a nasty fall, for which she was very grateful, but the fact that he still held her in his arms - strong, warm arms - was beginning to make Phoebe…she wasn't sure what. She only knew she was eager to stand on her own two feet. And quickly. "I'm so sorry…"

"No apologies necessary. Are you alright, Phoebe?"

Shocked that this brawny officer not only knew her Christian name but also addressed her by it, Phoebe scrutinized the face of her savior. Beneath the khaki Montana campaign hat were two of the brightest blue eyes Phoebe had ever seen. She searched his face, still at a loss. He certainly knew who she was.

Her confusion seemed to delight the officer.

"What's the matter, Pheebs? Don't you recognize me?"

Her eyes grew wide as suddenly Phoebe did recognize the man whose arms held her.

"Will Caffey?" she gasped.

"Oh, good. I was beginning to think that you had forgotten all about me," he said, smiling down at her.

Forgotten? Will Caffey? How could she forget the boy who had teased her relentlessly her entire childhood? The adolescent that chased her around the playground every day at school. The teenager that had captured her behind the church and…

She longed to slap the mischievous grin off his face. If she'd had any difficulty connecting the little boy of her memories with the handsome, and now very grown up, man of today, that smirk erased all doubt. This was the same obnoxious Will Caffey she had always known.

"Put me down, sir." She struggled to free herself. "People are beginning to stare!"

"Sir?" Will chuckled, setting her on her feet in an upright, balanced position.

She straightened her skirt, gathered her things, then looked up at him.

"Thank you for saving me from a vicious fall. For that, I am very grateful." She looked frantically for her father, wishing to escape the embarrassment of the situation as quickly as possible. "But your prolonged embrace… that was unnecessary and has only delayed me further. So, Mr. Caffey, thank you, but good day."

"Sir? Mr. Caffey?" Will chuckled again. "Well, I guess if we are being formal, then the name is Constable Caffey now, ma'am," he replied with exaggerated gallantry, tipping his hat and bowing to her.

"I stand corrected," she said, picking up her valise. "Let me try again. Goodbye…Constable Caffey." She turned to leave.

"C'mon, Pheebs. You aren't still mad about that kiss, are you?"

Phoebe stood frozen. "Kiss? I have no idea what you are talking about," she lied.

"So, you are still sore."

She whirled to face him. "Sore? Mad? Why would I be upset about having a kiss roguishly stolen from me when I was still a child? I couldn't care less!"

"Oh, that's apparent."

"What's apparent is that you haven't changed…not one bit. You are still the most annoying boy I have ever known. I've wasted enough of my time with the likes of you. Good day, Constable!"

She turned and strode toward the depot, anxious to find her father. All she wished was to be home and the last thing she wanted was any more banter with the likes of Will Caffey.

"I wouldn't dismiss me so quickly if I were you," she heard him yell after her.

"Oh," Phoebe called over her shoulder. "And why is that?"

"Because it's a long walk home from here."

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