Home to Hart's Crossing by Robin Lee Hatcher

well. They knew her past and they knew her heart. They were connected in countless ways.
    And who am I connected to?
    No one, really. At least, not in California. If she never went back, no one would miss her. She’d been replaced at the newspaper. Her colleagues were only that, her colleagues. They ate the occasional lunch together. They chatted at company Christmas parties. But Angie never let any of them into her personal life—because she didn’t have one. She was too focused on getting ahead, too determined to prove her value to the paper, too set on moving up one more rung on the ladder of success. She’d used her money to acquire a large house where she never entertained and a fancy car that never went anywhere except work. She had the best of everything and yet…
    Angie opened her eyes, surprised to discover the dark of night had arrived while she was lost in thought. She set the mug of cooling tea on the floor, shoved the blanket from her lap, stood, and walked to the edge of the porch. Placing her hands on the railing, she turned her face toward the sky.
    When did I lose myself?
    For some inexplicable reason—at least, inexplicable to her—she recalled going to the movies with her mother to see the Cecil B. DeMille classic, The Ten Commandments . She’d been no more than twelve when the film came to play at the Apollo, but she remembered scenes from the movie as if she’d watched it yesterday. She remembered Moses on top of that mountain, the wind swirling about him, and she recalled the voice of God proclaiming, “Thou shalt have no other gods before me.”
    A breeze stirred the trees, dancing through the leafy branches. It whispered a question in Angie’s heart: What other gods have you put before him?
    Suddenly chilled, she turned and went inside.

    Chapter 9

    ENJOYING THE PLEASANT WARMTH of a beautiful late spring day, Francine reclined on a lounge on the back patio, her face turned toward the afternoon sun, her eyes closed. The pain in her knee was noticeably less today, nearly three weeks post surgery. Still, she was impatient with the recovery process, even though the physical therapist said she was right on schedule.
    “Mom,” Angie called from the back doorway, “can I get you anything?”
    “No, thank you, dear.” She turned her head on the cushion until she could see her daughter. “I’m fine for now.”
    “Would you like some company then?” Angie stepped outside.
    “I’d love it.” Francine motioned toward the patio chair next to her.
    Angie walked over and sank onto the padded seat. “What a beautiful day.”
    “Indeed.”
    “Miss Hart called. She said to tell you she’ll drop by around three.”
    Francine chuckled as she looked at her daughter. “If Till brings another covered dish, I won’t be able to fit into any of my nice clothes. I’ll be on a diet for the next six months if I’m not careful.”
    “Too true. I know I’ve gained a few pounds since you got out of the hospital, and there’s enough food in your refrigerator to feed us both for another month or two.”
    Francine didn’t think a few extra pounds would hurt Angie in the least, but she kept that opinion to herself.
    Angie patted her stomach. “I need to start running again. I talk about it, but I never do it. I don’t know why. I’ve always been faithful with my exercises. I think I’m getting lazy.”
    Lazy wasn’t a word she would use to describe her daughter. Angie had worked diligently, taking care of Francine’s every need, driving her to physical therapy appointments and cleaning the house and running errands and welcoming the daily round of visitors. And she’d done it all without complaint.
    But the best times were when, like now, Angie came to sit with her. Oh, how blessed Francine was by these precious moments of companionship with her daughter. How she had ached for them through the years. How she would miss them after Angie went away again.
    O Lord, forgive me. I don’t mean to feel