Jeff smothered a smile as he imagined the expression that would cross Willa’s face. “Let’s give the lady a break, okay?”

“Why should I? Why is she even here?”

“What does it matter? Maybe she wanted to go hiking and took on a little more than she could handle.”

“Yeah, right. All by herself.”

Surprised by the venom in her voice, Jeff stopped and faced her. “What’s this really about?”

“I’ve seen her before,” Tracey admitted. “So have you.”

Nope. Jeff prided himself on remembering people and there was no way he could ever forget a woman like Willa. Unfortunately.

“You saw her this morning on the strip.”

A flicker of memory teased, but refused to sharpen into focus.

“Remember the blonde you thought you’d have to rescue?”

“The one who hadn’t needed rescuing?” How could he forget? The way she’d handled that guy, kicking him with such intense force, he’d never seen anything like it. The two women had the same slight frame, but there was no way that woman, who took on two huge ruffians without batting a lash or breaking a nail, could be Willa. Jeff let out a shaky laugh. “Nah, no way.”

“I got a good look at her in her apartment. It’s her. It’s Blondie. I swear it. Only her hair is different. And her clothes.”

An illusive memory snapped into place; a tendril of curly red hair slipping out from under a blond wig to dance along a silky smooth jaw. Uneasiness twisted inside him. “What would she be doing here?” he thought aloud.

“What if she’s come to take me back? What if Mr. Paulson sent her for me?”

The trembling in Tracey’s voice caught Jeff by surprise. He took both her hands into his own. “Don’t worry, Tracey. I would never let that happen. Believe me?” he asked when she didn’t respond.

She nodded, but wouldn’t look at him.

“I’m glad to hear you don’t want to go back. I’d hate to have to face that man again myself.”

“I don’t. I swear. He was creepy. Real creepy.”

“Are you willing to work with your mom to solve your problems at home?”

She fell into silence again and suddenly she looked so much younger than her thirteen years, so lost and alone.

“She’s lost a lot, too. Give her a chance to figure out how to make it work.”

“I don’t think she can.”

“Mothers aren’t any more perfect than pastors.”

She finally looked at him, a grim smile crossing her face. “Except for you. You are definitely perfect.” Her tone dropped. “You came for me.”

He slipped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “I hope I’m always there when you need me, but you know God will always be there for you.” He led her back down the trail, but she hesitated as the camp came into view. “Don’t worry any more tonight about Jack Paulson or Willa,” he said. “I don’t know why she’s here, but I swear I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Tears misted her large, brown eyes, darkening the doubt he saw lingering within. “Promise?” she asked, her voice sounding small and scared.

He cupped her chin and hoped the intensity of his gaze convinced her. “It’s a solemn oath.”

“I’m sorry I ran away.”

“Life isn’t always going to be easy, Tracey. Losing your dad is more than you should have to deal with. I know it isn’t fair, and it isn’t right. And, unfortunately, I don’t have an easy answer as to why this horrible tragedy had to happen to your family. But put your faith in God. If you can face what He throws at you and grow from the challenges, you’ll be a better and stronger person for it.”

“You think?”

“No, I don’t think.” He smiled. “I know. You’re a smart kid. If you start making smart decisions then everything will work out for you. The question is, do you believe it?”

She smiled. “I think so.”

“Well, then, for the remainder of this trip let’s work on you knowing so. Okay?”

“All right.”

As they walked into the camp, Jeff couldn’t help wondering if Tracey was right. Was Willa the bleached blonde who’d given him a back full of bruises? No wonder poor Tracey had been moping around. What could the woman possibly be doing here? For as sure as he knew there was a heaven in the sky, he knew Willa’s arrival was no coincidence.

He saw her sitting before the fire, wiggling her toes in the warmth of the flames. She looked soft and sweet with her rust-colored curls coming to life in the fire’s glow. Not in a million years would he have picked her as one of Jack Paulson’s girls. She didn’t look worn enough, nor were her edges hard or sharp enough. He remembered Dawn’s wan face as it had been the last time he’d seen her alive. He pushed the image from his mind. Willa definitely didn’t have the look of a girl who’d spent much time on the streets.