The loud banging at Monica Crawford’s front door awakened her. Forcing herself out of bed, she glanced at the clock and saw it was two in the morning.

“I’m coming!”

She ran to the door. Looking through the peephole, Monica saw her little sister Gina smiling at her.

Her heart pounded as she opened the door, gripping the knob. “What are you doing here?” Playing an internal game of tug-of-war, she wondered if she should hug her sister or slam the door in her face. Humid heat rushed into the air-conditioned living room. She stared at Gina, still awaiting her response.

“It’s nice to see you too, sister.” Gina pursed her full, red-painted lips and motioned at the child standing beside her. “Go on in, Scotty.”

Gina had brought her seven-year-old son with her. Dark shades hid his sightless eyes. “Aunt Monica!” he called.

Monica released a small cry as she dropped to her knees and embraced him. “I’m here, Scotty.” Tears slid down her cheeks as she hugged the child. Since Gina had cut herself off from immediate family for the last two years, Monica had wondered when she would see Scotty again. “You remember me?” Her heart continued to pound as she stared at her nephew. His light, coffee-colored skin glowed.

“Yeah, I remember you. When mom said I was going to live here, I wanted to come so we could go to the beach in Ocean City.”

Shocked, Monica stared at Gina who was rummaging through her purse. Gina pulled out a cigarette and lighter. Seconds later she was puffing away, gazing into the living room. “You got an ashtray?”

Monica silently prayed, hoping she wouldn’t lose her temper. “Gina, you know I don’t allow smoking in this house.”

Gina shrugged. After a bit of coaxing, she dropped the cigarette on the top step and ground it beneath the heel of her shoe. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Scotty entered the house and wandered through the room, ignoring the adults as he touched objects with his fingers. After Monica fed Scotty a snack and let him fall asleep in the guest bedroom, she confronted Gina.

“Where have you been for the last two years?”

Gina strutted around the living room in her tight jeans, her high heels making small imprints in the plush carpet. “I’ve been around. I was mad because Mom and Dad tried to get custody of Scotty, tried to take me to court and say I was an unfit mother.”

Groaning, Monica plopped onto the couch, holding her head in her hands. “That’s why you haven’t been speaking to me or Mom and Dad for two years?” When Gina sat beside her, Monica took her sister’s chin into her hand and looked into her eyes. “You know you were wrong. Mom and Dad tried to find you. They were worried about Scotty.”

Jerking away, Gina placed a few inches between herself and Monica. “They might have cared about Scotty, but they didn’t care about me.” Gina swore under her breath and rummaged in her purse. Removing a mint, she popped it into her mouth.

“They were worried about you and Scotty,” Monica explained. “You were living with that terrible man. He didn’t work, and he was high on drugs. We didn’t want anything to happen to the two of you.”

Gina’s lips curled into a bitter smirk. “Humph. Me and Scotty are just fine.” She glanced up the stairs. “You saw him. Does he look neglected to you?”

She continued to stare at Gina, still not believing she was here to visit in the middle of the night. “What do you want? What did Scotty mean when he said he was coming here to live?”

Gina frowned as she toyed with the strap of her purse. “I want you to keep Scotty for me. Will you?”

Monica jerked back. “What? Why can’t you take care of your own son? Did that crackhead you were living with finally go off the deep end?”

Gina shook her head. “No, we’re not even together anymore. It’s just that. . .” She paused, staring at the crystal vase of red roses adorning the coffee table. “I’m getting married.”

Monica’s heart skipped a beat. “Married?”

Gina nodded, her long minibraids moving with the motion of her head. “Yeah, his name is Randy, and he’s outside now, waiting for me in the car.”

Monica raised her eyebrows, suddenly suspicious. “Why didn’t you bring him inside? Are you ashamed of him?”

Gina shook her head. “No. But we’re in a hurry tonight, and I didn’t want to waste time with formalities.”

“You still haven’t told me why you can’t keep Scotty. Does your fiancé have a problem with having a blind child in his house?”

Gina scowled as she clutched her purse, her dark eyes darting around the room. “No, that’s not it at all.”

“Uh-huh, whatever you say.” She could always sense when Gina was lying. Her body language said it all.

“Really, it’s not Scotty’s blindness that bothers Randy. It’s just that—he’s a trapeze artist in the National African-American Circus and they’re traveling around constantly.” Her dark eyes lit up as she talked about her fiancé. “This year they’ll be going international. Can you imagine me traveling around the globe with Randy? We’ll be going to Paris, London, Rome—all those fancy European places!” She grabbed Monica’s arm. “We’d love to take Scotty, but we can’t afford to hire a tutor for him to travel with us.”

“You’re going to marry some man and travel with a circus?!” Monica shook her head, wondering when her sister would grow up. At twenty-seven, she acted as if she were still a teenager. Since Monica was ten years older, she’d always been the responsible sibling, making sure Gina behaved herself.

Gina grabbed Monica’s shoulder. “But I’m in love with him!” Her eyes slid over Monica as if assessing her. “You’ve never been in love? I think it’s odd that you’re thirty-seven and you never got married.”

Monica closed her eyes for a brief second as thoughts of her single life filled her mind. Since her breakup with her serious boyfriend two years ago, she’d accepted that God wanted her to remain single, and she spent her free time at church in various ministries. She filled her time praising God and serving Him, and she had no regrets for the life she led. But whenever one of the church sisters announced an engagement, she couldn’t stop the pang of envy that sliced through her.

Forcing the thoughts from her mind, she focused on Gina again. “This discussion is not about me. It’s about you. You can’t abandon Scotty. He loves you.”

Gina turned away, as if ashamed of her actions. “I know he does, and I love him, too. But I really want things to work out with Randy, and it won’t work with Scotty on the road with us. He needs special education since he’s blind.”

Her heart immediately went out to Scotty. She touched Gina’s shoulder. “Scotty knows you’re getting married?”

Gina nodded. “I didn’t tell him how long I would be gone, but I told him I’d call and visit. Please do this for me.” Her sister touched her arm, and her dark eyes pleaded with her. She opened her purse and gave Monica some papers. “I’ve already had the power of attorney papers signed and notarized so that you can take care of him.” She pressed the papers into Monica’s hand.

“How long will you be gone?” asked Monica.

“The power of attorney lasts for six months. Hopefully by then me and Randy will be more settled. I’m hoping after the world tour he’ll leave the circus and find a regular job.”
Monica frowned, still clutching the legal documents.

“Please do this for me, Monica,” she pleaded again.

She reluctantly nodded. If she didn’t take care of Scotty, she didn’t know who would.

The driver behind the steering wheel was sweating like a hunter in the dripping heat of the jungle.

But this was a very different kind of jungle.

It was five minutes before midnight, and the car was cruising along the marble-and-monument-studded streets of the Capitol Hill district of Washington DC. The driver was tugging at a collar edge. Drops of perspiration trickled down back and torso, even with the air conditioning on. Maybe it was the freakish heat wave that had hit the city, causing brownouts and power failures across the city. Maybe it was something else…the nasty assignment that had to be taken care of. When the trigger was pulled, and it was all over, the long-missing pages of John Wilkes Booth’s personal diary would then be in the grip of someone else’s hand.

Yet the driver knew what was actually at stake that night. And it really wasn’t about the Booth diary. Or even the assassination of Abraham Lincoln at the hand of a Confederate radical. The note that was about to be seized contained a message with ramifications far beyond any of that.

Sweltering temperatures had suffocated Washington with a relentless haze of humidity that week. Even though it was only June, temperatures were in the low hundreds during the day and in the nineties at night.

The only thing cool to the touch was the white marble of the statues and monuments. The driver steered past the Lincoln Monument and then slowed the car slightly. As usual, interior lights illuminated the massive likeness of Abraham Lincoln in his great marble chair. Once past the monument, the car picked up speed, entered Constitution Avenue, and started heading toward the National Mall. The destination was the Castle, the nineteenth-century red-brick building full of turrets and spires where the administrative headquarters of the Smithsonian Institution were housed.

The driver parked the car a block away and walked quickly to the side entrance of the Castle—then, reaching the door, quickly tapped a code into the security panel. The lock clicked open.

Upstairs, the lights were still on in the office of Horace Langley, Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. He was working late.

But the object of his work that night was not business as usual.

Only moments before, Langley had opened his safe and pulled out a metal case containing a folder enclosed within a plastic zip bag. Now he was studying the contents—eighteen pages from the diary of John Wilkes Booth. They had been missing for nearly one hundred and fifty years. Their disappearance had occurred suspiciously, about the same time as the federal investigation into the assassination of President Abraham Lincoln was taking place. Booth’s diary had been taken when the assassin was captured and killed. But at the time at least one witness swore that eighteen pages had been removed from it.

That was the point at which those pages seemed to have vanished forever.

Then, a century and a half later, the granddaughter and sole heir of a farmer in central Virginia went rummaging through her grandfather’s attic after his death and happened upon some boxes of old letters and papers. But one sheaf of papers looked different. While much of the writing on them was faded and undecipherable to the layman’s eye, a reference to Abraham Lincoln was visible. In his will, the farmer had given everything to his granddaughter—except the papers. Those, he said, must go to the Smithsonian Institution.

After some wrangling with lawyers, the eighteen pages were transferred to the Smithsonian. Horace Langley had succeeded in keeping the discovery from being leaked to the press, even though he was thoroughly convinced that the pages belonged to the Booth diary.

That June evening, as Langley studied the pages in his office, he knew that some eight hours hence, a council of epigraphers and historians were scheduled to convene and, for the first time, to study the Booth diary entries in that same office.

But he had to get the first look.

He had a pair of white gloves on as he studied the brittle pages, yellowed from age. A pad of paper lay on the desk in front of him, next to his pen. There was a glass of water off to the side.

Langley then began to slowly, painstakingly, write down something on the notepad.

Just a few lines of writing.

He paused to study carefully what he had written.

Then he heard something. He looked up, half-expecting a late-night visitor. “I wasn’t sure I would see you,” was all Horace Langley had a chance to say.

The individual who had entered through the side door below was now standing in front of Langley holding a handgun with a silencer—and proceeded to fire two clean shots directly into the left upper quadrant of Langley’s chest.

The Secretary started to grope upward with his arm, trying to touch the injured area of his chest, but failing. He fell backward into his chair, slumped, and then fell to the floor, where he collapsed on his back, surrounded by an expanding pool of blood.

The shooter stepped over to the desk, picked up the Booth diary pages, placed them back in the plastic zip bag, and put that into a larger bag. The killer snatched the pad of paper, ripped off the top page that had Langley’s writing on it and then another page for good measure, and put them also into the bag. Then the killer placed the pad of paper back on the desk with a clean page exposed as Langley lay dying on the floor, making a final gurgling, gasping sound. Before leaving the room, the shooter paused only for a moment at Langley’s desk, gazing down at the empty drinking glass that was resting there.

Then, exiting quickly through the same side door below where entrance had been made a few minutes before, Langley’s killer made a perfect getaway.

The security guards didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary until twenty-five minutes later, when one of them was making the rounds and stopped to check in on the Secretary. He caught sight of Horace Langley’s feet protruding past the edge of the desk. And the feet in Langley’s dress shoes were absolutely still.

As still as the marble and bronze statues of the famous men that were frozen in time, scattered as monuments across Washington, and that were illuminated by the halogen street lights that buzzed overhead in the suffocating heat of the night.

January 2

Jodi Williams sighed for the hundredth time as she waved goodbye to the Chicago skyline, catching the last of the city in her car’s rearview mirror. Dreams of working at The Tribune were dead right along with drinking green tea latte’s at Starbucks anytime she wanted.

Hope behind her.

The unknown ahead.

She steered toward Wisconsin. An hour later, Jodi looked out the window at the open fields of frozen ground and cows standing along snowy fences. The comparison between her two lives—the previous and the present—were startling.

Jodi attempted to shift her body in the seat but was pretty well anchored into the one position with her belongings crammed into the compact car from the trunk to the front. The turn-by-turn directions she had printed out were hard to follow since not all the roads were actually marked in this neck of the country. She decided to refer to them as mystery turns. Finally, Jodi pulled over to the shoulder and unfolded the road map to try to figure it out one more time. According to her calculations, she was almost there.

She looked around again and there it was, the Welcome to Turtle Creek sign, less than five feet ahead. Snickering at herself, she put her car back in drive, turned on her signal and pulled back onto the road. Soon she passed Ma’s Diner on the left and zoomed past one block of storefronts realizing that was all there was of town. “It’s worse than I imagined.”

Watching for the turn that would take her directly to the newspaper, she nearly missed seeing the small-bedraggled dog that darted out right in front of her. Startled, Jodi swerved and hit her brakes as her heart palpitated hard in her chest. It was a foolhardy maneuver that nearly landed her in the ditch but she felt it was worth the risk since she didn’t feel or hear a thud against the tires. After she came to a complete stop, Jodi peered over her steering wheel. She frantically looked to her left and right. The dog wasn’t in sight. She had to find the little thing. It was unsafe for it to be running around loose like this. What kind of people let a little dog roam free anyway? Jodi caught her negative thought and softened. Maybe the dog was lost and the family was searching at this very moment.

Jodi checked both lanes of traffic. Then she pulled up hard on the door handle, swiveled in her seat and set both feet on the ice. Gingerly stepping out to search for the animal, she was thankful no vehicle appeared from either direction. She walked around the car feeling the snow and ice seep into her leather shoes.

She finally found what she was looking for; the dog sat shivering under a bush. Fearful-looking eyes studied her approach. With matted hair and sad eyes, it looked unloved and unwanted, pulling at her heart.

“Hey there little one,” Jodi bent down. “Don’t be afraid. Let me help you.” When she held out her hand, the dog took off like a rocket, past her and right for the road. From a blanket of snowy air, a car appeared. It careened down the road traveling much too fast for the conditions. Jodi frantically called to the dog, “Come to me, come to me!” But instead of obeying, it sat down. “Now is no time to be stubborn!”

Jodi couldn’t watch. She shut her eyes and turned away from the awful sound of squealing brakes, the thump of the dog and the whimper. When she opened her eyes, she saw the poor thing lying still on its side. Jodi ran to it as the angry driver rolled down his window and yelled, “Watch your dog!”

“Watch where you’re going!” Jodi shot back and ignored him as he drove off. Without thinking about the cold or the possibility of being bitten, Jodi yanked off her coat and carefully placed it around the injured animal. “It’s all right; I’m just trying to help you. It’s okay.”

Gingerly, she held the dog just as a pickup truck came rolling toward them. Oh, no, not again. The road was too icy for her to get out of its way in time. She gripped the dog to her chest, said a prayer and hoped for the best. The tires splashed icy muck on her skirt. To her surprise, the driver was able to slow and come to a complete stop within inches of her frame. On the side of the truck was written Veterinarian Clinic Turtle Creek, Wisconsin—Josh Thomas.

“Is everything okay?” The man inside rolled down his window.

“No, everything is just terrible. The dog was hit.” Jodi started to cry.

“I’ll help.” He checked his side mirrors before parking on the shoulder of the road and then got out of the truck. Jodi noticed the man was her extreme opposite. He stood at least six foot two, weighed about two-fifty, where she was only a couple of inches over five feet and half his weight. His hair was the kind a woman longed to run her fingers through—thick, black and straight.

Wind blew snow into Jodi’s face. She rubbed her eyes and then brushed her curly auburn hair from
her face, making sure the kind stranger wasn’t an illusion.

After grabbing a mid-sized crate from the back of his truck, he walked over to where Jodi stood shivering in the cold wind holding her bundle. “Let’s get the dog to my clinic. Do you want to put it in the crate, or should I?”

“I’ll do it.” Feeling protective now, Jodi put the dog inside, leaving it wrapped in her coat. Doing a double take, he asked, “I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Josh Thomas. Are you all right?”

He touched her shoulder. It felt reassuring and made her cry harder knowing someone was here to handle the situation. All she managed was a nod. He patted her again. “Follow me.” Josh opened the passenger side and placed the crate on the truck seat. “Hopefully your little pal will be just fine. I’ll do my best so he’ll be home with you in no time.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That’s not my dog. I only stopped to help,” she explained, walking toward the truck.

Josh turned toward Jodi and gave her an appreciative smile. “So you’re the one? It’s nice to finally meet you. I heard about you in church on Sunday.”

“Me? On Sunday?” Her eyes widened.

“Yea you. We learned about the Good Samaritan. Let me shake your hand.”

Josh was totally disarming and made Jodi smile for the first time that day. When she took his hand, it felt strong and capable. She looked into his eyes where a collection of amber colors seemed to swirl together. “I’m Jodi Williams. I was trying to get the dog out of the road when he was hit. The driver didn’t stop to help.”

“I was on my way back from a farm call and in my daydreaming missed my turn to the clinic. Guess it was a good thing.” Josh explained as he climbed into his truck. “Don’t worry I’ll take it from here. Thanks again, Miss Good Samaritan.”

“Wait. Let me come with you.” Jodi looked at her car and again at Josh.

“Sure, just follow me. Back your car around and pull in behind me. I’ll wait for you.”

“Okay.” Jodi nodded to him as she opened her car door. Just as she scooted onto the driver’s seat a blast of wind slammed the door on her. Freezing to the bone, she cranked up the heater full blast. Then she turned on her wipers to move the snow off her windshield. Jodi found a safe place to turn around, and in no time, she was following Josh’s truck. A few turns later, they arrived at the veterinary clinic. The large sign read Thomas Veterinary Clinic and Animal Rescue. It seemed like an appropriate name since she and the dog had both been on the receiving end of that rescue. Jodi followed Josh into the building.

A pretty blonde-headed woman wearing brightly colored scrubs printed with playful dogs and cats, sat at the desk. “What do you have in there?” She looked at the small crate.

“An injured dog, hit on County O.” Josh turned to Jodi. “This is my secretary, Della Wheat. Della, this is Ms. Williams.”

“Jodi,” she corrected, hardly noticing Della. Her eyes remained fixed on the dog.

“Just fill out a card for me.” Della placed it on the counter along with a pen.

“She was trying to rescue the stray when it was hit,” Josh explained. “We don’t need the information.”

“I’d still like to fill out the card.” Jodi picked up the pen. Not knowing where she’d be staying yet, she only wrote her name and cell phone number. She put the pen back down and asked Josh, “Would it be all
right for me to go into the examination room with you?”

Josh shrugged. “Sure enough. Keep following me.”

They entered a brightly lit and predictably spotless small room. An aroma from the cleaning disinfectant was evident. They faced each other on opposite sides of the stainless steel examination table. Josh placed the crate on the table and slowly pulled out the dog on Jodi’s bloody coat.

“Hi, there, little guy. Will you let me see how you are doing?” Josh parted the folds of the coat and then lifted the dog out. It whimpered but didn’t try to snap.

Jodi removed her coat from the table. Josh kept looking up at her and down at the dog again. “You seem pretty shook up. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“That’s good to know. I thought you might need a doctor yourself, for a minute there.” Josh chuckled.

She took her first long look at him. Great smile that was burned into her memory from their first encounter on the road, but now she saw he was also quite handsome. What attracted her was his obvious tender spirit reflected in his soft eyes. She didn’t even know him but he suddenly made an imprint on her heart. The way he looked at her made Jodi wonder if he felt it, too.

The door to the examination room popped open. “Do you need my help, Doctor?” Della stood in the doorway.

“Sure, come on in.”

Della entered and began her work while lightly humming. She seemed like the kind of gal who was always humming even when she did things that should be done in silence, like calming animal nerves or cleaning up messes. At least that was how Jodi imagined her to be.

Jodi watched as Josh gently turned the dog on its side and stroked its head, talking low and soft, trying to bring comfort to it. Della quickly stepped in to hold the dog, making Jodi move back out of their way. The room was cramped with all them in it, so she moved to the corner to watch.

“The dog has some pretty bad abrasions, but I don’t see anything that would require sutures. It looks like he’s a little neutered male, so someone once cared for him.” Josh tilted back the dog’s head and parted his jaws to have a good look inside. “And he’s no older than two years.”

The animal held his left hind leg tight up against his body. When Josh gently tried to straighten it, the dog yelped in pain and then licked Josh’s hand. Josh responded immediately by stroking its head. “Ah, I guess the leg is probably broken. We won’t know how badly until I get an x-ray of it.” Josh felt along the side of the animal and examined each leg. “In fact, I want to get several x-rays on him to see what else we’re dealing with here.”

“I’ll get everything ready,” Della hummed. Jodi glanced discreetly at the wall clock. She was late for her first day at her new job. “I have to leave, but my cell number is at the front desk. Will you call me later? I’d like to know how he does.”

“Of course I will.” Josh smiled again. It was enough to make her want to stay right here with the dog and with Josh, but then Della opened the door for her and took the dog to the back.

Jodi walked from the room as she took a good look at her coat. It was stained with blood and her clothes had muck on them.

“There’s a dry cleaner about five miles from here.”

“No good. I’m starting my job at The Turtle Creek Newspaper today, and I can’t go in like this. I’m not sure what to do since I’m already pretty late.” Jodi fretted as she folded her coat over one arm.

Josh took a jacket from one of the wall hooks.

“I know it doesn’t look like much, but at least it’s clean. Here.” He held out the dark green jacket. Jodi managed with much self-restraint not to roll her eyes. The truth was she didn’t want to wear it, but under the circumstances, in near-zero-degree temperature, she didn’t have much choice. Besides it was clean and Josh was sweet to offer it. When she slipped into it, the coat nearly swallowed up her small frame. She pulled the right side over the left and laughed when it nearly went all the way around her back. The way Josh looked at her made her blush.

“It’ll keep you warm,” he said.

Della walked back into the room. She frowned. The humming came to a stop. “Why is she wearing that?”

Jodi noticed the young woman’s displeasure. It made her feel silly. “She’s right, I can’t take this.”

“Wear it. It’ll do in a blizzard.”

Jodi looked out the window at the snow coming heavier now. The wind seemed stronger. “The weather is getting worse. If I take this, what’ll you wear?”

“There’s another jacket in my truck.”

“Please be sure to call and let me know how that sweet little guy is doing, okay?”

“Will do,” Josh promised. “He sure is a little cherub.”

Jodi reluctantly put on the jacket, hesitating before heading out to her car.

****

Twenty-year-old Della Wheat held up her hand and sweetly waved goodbye to Jodi. Then she turned to Josh. “She seems nice.”

“Yep, that she is.” He walked to the windows and watched as she got into her car and drove off. He was quiet a minute and then turned to Della.

“While I get those x-rays taken, I need you to start on the invoices. They’re on your desk. I’d like them in the mail by the end of the work day.” Josh started toward the back.

“Sure thing, as soon as I organize the waiting room. You know how I am about messiness,” Della answered as she began her daily routine with military preciseness. She fanned out the magazines into attractive sections, then swept the floor and finished off her housekeeping with a bit of dusting.

Once the fish were fed, she straightened her desk. It was then she noticed something on the counter of her well-ordered room. Calmly, Della picked up the white card and read Jodi Williams’ contact information. Cute, she was the kind who marked a line through each of her sevens and wrote her name in fancy, curly script. Della smiled and hummed happily as she walked over to the shredder and buzzed the piece of paper right through it. Jodi Williams disappeared.

“All gone.” Della wiped her hands together.

Now that this new woman was out of Josh’s life, Della was ready to get to work. She went around her desk and sat down. From the top drawer, she took out the container of paper clips, the small bag of rubber bands, the handful of pens and removed a folder. Underneath all of that was a picture of Josh and her at last year’s Christmas party at the church. She caressed his face with her finger. Then she picked up a black marker with a thin point and used it to carefully write across the bottom, You’re the only woman for me. All my love, Josh. It made Della smile. Then she shut the folder and returned it to the desk, placing the office supplies back on top. Within the hour, a CLOSED sign was placed in the door of the clinic. Della assisted Josh in surgery.

She watched every move he made. Della had a hard time keeping her mind on what they were doing. She kept looking over at Josh, hoping he’d see her and give her one of those great big smiles of his. He didn’t smile, didn’t even give her a look. All his concern went to the animal he was working on. He was devoted. He would smile at her later. That was her affirmation.

“Isn’t he a sweet little thing?” Della commented on the dog, needing attention from Josh.

“He sure was lucky to come out of it with just one fracture and a few abrasions. I think the good Lord was smiling down on you today,” he told the sedated mutt. “Della, while I pin the leg, steady it for me by holding the bones together just so.” Josh demonstrated.

Della followed his instructions.

“Once surgery is over, I’ll attach the rigid bar on the cast. Within a day or two, he should be using that leg just fine,” Josh murmured.

“You inspire me.” Della’s hand brushed his as she took over positioning the leg. It made her heart race.

“Just doing my job.” Perspiration gathered along Josh’s brow. In a few minutes, he had accomplished stabilizing the leg. “Good. You did well. You both did.” He looked at Della and gave her a smile.

There it was! Her affirmation! It came true, washing over her heart; she nearly fainted from happiness, but remained vertical and stared down at the dog’s leg that Josh was closing.

“That should do it.” Josh laid his instruments to the side and looked at the dog one more time. “I’ll give Jodi a call. She’ll want to know how the dog is doing.”

“I’ll do that for you,” Della insisted.

“No, I’ll do it myself as soon as the dog is fully awake and eats something.” Josh carried the animal to a prepared kennel and laid him on a heating pad. Della’s heart palpitated with fear and self-doubt. Deep breaths, she told herself. It was time to listen to her affirmation tapes. Della returned to the waiting room, unlocked the door and put the Open sign back in the window. At her desk, she slid her earphones on and popped the next CD in her player. She pressed play. She moved her lips along with the words on the tape, “I am focused on finding love. I have found love. That is all that matters. I am having fun.”

Her headphones were suddenly lifted off her head as her hair caught in the earpiece. “Ouch!” She turned around. It was her love. “Josh, what are you doing?”

“Are you listening to those silly tapes again? There are messages that need to be answered. Don’t you see the blinking light?”

“Sorry.” Della’s face blushed.

“Also get Jodi’s number for me, please.”

“Uhm….” Della watched her love leave the room.

If there was ever a time she needed to listen to her tapes, it was now. However, she would do as Josh asked and put them away. She’d write out her affirmation instead. With a pen in hand, she began; I believe in myself. I believe in the power of love. I believe Josh loves me. I believe Josh and I are destined to be together. I believe Josh will ask me to marry him. I believe in myself. I believe in the power of love. I believe Josh loves me. I believe Josh and I are destined to be together. I will make it happen. I believe in the power of me.