Santa
Fe, New Mexico
August,
1919
Deanie
Lawrence stopped a few buildings down from the Loretto Chapel and took a deep
breath. She chewed her lip in contemplation. This was not a good idea. Despite
Father Ryan’s assurances, she doubted coming face to face with Peter after all
this time would heal the anger in his soul. No. Her former fiancé despised her,
and with good reason.
The
church stood outlined against the crystal blue New Mexico sky. It had always
brought her comfort, especially during her darkest hours. The majestic rise of
the steeple and gothic design of the building itself brought a sense of calm to
her raging nerves. Wiping her sweaty palms down the front . . . (click title to continue reading)
No comments:
Post a Comment