when the door opened. Dana.
“Um, I’m sorry . . . I shouldn’t have . . .” Heather turned, wanting the sidewalk to open up and swallow her. She couldn’t get to her car fast enough.
“Heather.”
Her feet stopped, heart hammering. Did Dana just say her name?
“Did you need to see Cyd?”
Tears spilled from her eyes. Was it the weight of the entire day? Or just this moment? She turned back around in her scrubs. “I did, but it’s okay.” She barely looked at her.
Dana paused. “Wait.”
She closed the screen door and disappeared. Seconds later, Cyd came out.
“Heather, I didn’t know you were coming.”
She couldn’t stop crying. “I’m sorry, Cyd. No one answered when I called, and I should’ve just gone home.”
“It’s okay, sweetie.” Cyd took her into her arms. “Really. It’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t.” Heather wet Cyd’s chest. “I know Dana hates seeing me, and I don’t blame her. I didn’t mean to cause trouble between you two again.”
“Sweetie, shh.” Cyd stroked her hair. “Listen. God answered your prayer.”
Heather took a step back so she could see Cyd’s face.
“He touched Dana’s heart. She was able to accept us working together, and she forgives you.”
Heather couldn’t process what Cyd was saying, but her emotions could. Fresh tears wet her face. “But . . . why? Why would she forgive me?”
“Bottom line? Because God has forgiven her.”
Heather shook her head. “It can’t be that simple.”
“Actually, it kind of is.”
Heather stared at her, overwhelmed.
“So, what made you stop by? What’s on your mind?”
Heather blinked, trying to rewind ten minutes. “Oh, we can just talk about it next time I see you. I know you’re busy.”
“Oh!”
Heather made a face. “What?”
“I want to tell you my news.” Cyd took a breath, eyes sparkling. “I’m pregnant. That’s why people are here, having a celebration get-together for Cedric and me.”
“Oh, Cyd! You’ll make the best mom ever. I’m so happy for you!”
She grinned. “Thanks. I’m pretty excited myself. But”—the grin was fading—“I wish I could invite you—”
Heather waved away the thought. “It’s no problem.”
“See you Saturday?”
“You know it. Tell Kelli to call me later tonight if she gets a chance.”
“Will do.”
HEATHER DROVE ONTO THE GROUNDS OF LIVING WORD past nine o’clock that night with an eerie feeling. She hadn’t been here in ten months. Under the glare of the lampposts, she saw less than a handful of cars in the vast church complex—just as she’d hoped. Choir rehearsal had ended, and everyone was gone. Well. Most everyone. She drove to the lot nearest the main building and spotted the old forest-green Jeep Cherokee. She parked beside it.
Heather hoped the main doors hadn’t been locked yet from the outside. The first two she tried wouldn’t budge, but the one on the far right let her into the entryway. She rounded the bend to the sanctuary and slowed as she approached a set of double doors propped open.
She could hear the piano playing softly now, and she lingered a moment just inside, watching. Then she made her way down a side aisle, out of Logan’s direct sight. He stopped playing and noted something on a sheet—then turned suddenly and saw her.
“Heather . . . hey. Surprised to see you here.” He got up and walked to the edge of the platform. “You haven’t been home yet from work?”
She looked down at her apparel. “No. Stopped by Cyd’s, then walked the mall, got something to eat.”
Logan came down the steps. “And decided to come to Living Word? How did that happen?”
Heather sat in the first pew. “Kelli told me about the new songs the choir’s been singing. Made me sad that I don’t get to hear them anymore . . . or sing them. The thought hit me that I could come after choir rehearsal and you could play them for me. That is, if you’re not too busy.”
He shrugged. “Sure, I can play them if you like. But only if you sing. You were one of my favorite solo voices, you know.”
“You never told me that.”
“Not something I’d tell you while you were in the choir. But your voice has such depth, a lot of soul.”
“Logan, that means a lot coming from you. Thank you.”
He motioned her forward. “To the piano we go.”
Heather sat next to him at the baby grand and listened as he played the first song, lending his own melodic voice.
When he’d finished the last chords, she stared at him. “That was crazy. You have such a gift for writing worship songs. I loved that.”
He simply smiled