Santa Fe, New MexicoAugust, 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 of her skirt, . . . (click title to continue reading)