As soon as Chris Hamilton was out of sight, Felicity crossed her arms on her desk and buried her face in them, willing her heart to stop racing.
Had she managed to convince him that the letters were the unsettling but harmless result of someone with too much time on their hands? Because she’d certainly tried to convince herself. It had taken every ounce of self-control not to let him see that she was just as concerned as he was. She’d noticed his assessing gaze, looking for chinks in her emotional armor. As a reporter, she knew all about reading people’s body language, too.
It had taken a lot of concentration to make sure her real feelings didn’t show, and for some reason, with Officer Chris Hamilton sitting close enough for her to breathe in the warm, spicy scent of his cologne, it had taken more effort than usual.
DAVIS LANDING:
Nothing is stronger than a family’s love
KATHRYN SPRINGER
is a lifelong Wisconsin resident. Growing up in a “newspaper family,” she spent long hours as a child plunking out stories on her mother’s typewriter. She wrote her first “book” at the age of ten (which her mother still has!) and she hasn’t stopped writing since then. Initially, her writing was a well-kept secret that only her family and a few close friends knew about. Now, with her books in print, the secret is out. Kathryn began writing inspirational romance because it allows her to combine her faith in God with her love of a happy ending.
KATHRYN SPRINGER
BY HER SIDE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS:
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to
Kathryn Springer for her contribution
to the DAVIS LANDING miniseries.
This book is warmly dedicated to Diane Dietz, my editor at Steeple Hill, who understands the great mysteries of commas, semicolons and ellipses, indulges my fascination (obsession?) with …’s (most of the time) and who gently polishes my words until they shine.
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous! Do not tremble or be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.
—Joshua 1:9
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Prologue
Ten Years Earlier
“Hamilton, maybe you should just throw a cot in the corner over there.”
Chris Hamilton opened his eyes and saw his coach grinning at him.
“Are you leaving already?” he muttered, feeling his muscles tremble under the punishing weights he was balancing over his head.
He must have lost track of the hour. The last time he’d looked, three guys on the other side of the gym had been having a good-natured bench-press competition while the custodian mopped the floor. Now the lights were dimmed and someone had turned off the country and western music that had been blaring from the radio.
“Already?” One of Coach Swanson’s ragged eyebrows kicked up a notch. “It’s almost ten o’clock. And I know for a fact that you have a big English test tomorrow first period.”
Chris grimaced, but not from pain. The only reason Coach knew about the exam was because he happened to be married to Chris’s English teacher. That was a bummer. He couldn’t get away with anything. For all he knew, they traded notes about their students over their bran flakes every morning.
“I studied.” Not that it would do much good. For some reason, when God had gifted the Hamilton family, He’d somehow overlooked Chris completely. Or maybe He’d just given Chris’s twin, Heather, a double dose. Whatever had happened, he sweated over diagramming sentences more than he did bench-pressing three hundred pounds.
“Go home, Hamilton,” Coach Swanson ordered, “and instead of dreaming about the next game, you better be conjugating verbs in your sleep.”
Chris never ignored a direct order from his coach. He lowered the weighted bar into place and reached for the towel hanging over the end of the bench, swiping it across his face with one quick movement.
“Wish I had half your energy,” Coach grumbled, then looked at Chris speculatively. “Had a talk with your old man the other day. He’s pretty pumped up that you and Heather are graduating next month. Said he can’t wait to get some more family members into the business.”
Chris shrugged. “I guess so.”
A familiar restlessness coursed through him. A mixture of confusion and frustration that churned in his stomach the minute someone inquired about his future plans. Maybe it was because it usually wasn’t an inquiry at all. People assumed that just because he was a Hamilton he’d naturally follow in his siblings’ footsteps and stay in Davis Landing, becoming another efficient cog in the powerhouse that was Hamilton Media.
His dad, the incredible Wallace Hamilton, expected it, too. Instead of the usual bedtime stories most kids heard growing up, the stories Chris had been told were about the early Hamiltons and how they’d brought a small weekly newspaper through the Depression and World War II. When Wallace eventually took control, he’d turned the Davis Landing Dispatch into the successful media corporation it was now, which included not only the newspaper, now a daily, but also Nashville Living magazine.
So far his older brothers, Jeremy and Tim, and his sister, Amy, had already begun carving out their niches in the company. Even Heather was counting the days until she would be there full-time, planning to attend a local college and work at the magazine when she wasn’t in class. Not him. The closer he got to graduation, the more pressure he felt. Pressure to take his rightful and expected place at Hamilton Media. The only trouble was, he had a sinking feeling there wasn’t a place for him there. He had no desire to sit in an office and tally numbers all day and no one with an ounce of concern about the future of the company would want him writing for the Dispatch or Nashville Living.
Maybe that was why he was still in the school gym lifting weights instead of going home. The tension between him and Wallace had been escalating lately. Not a day went by that his dad didn’t casually mention him “coming on board.”
And not a day went by that everything inside Chris didn’t tell him that Hamilton Media wasn’t where he was supposed to be.
Maybe if he had a Plan B,