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“It’s got a lot to do with publishers wanting to satisfy their readership, and not wanting to take risks.” Staci shrugged. “But I’m not looking to write Sarah’s story, even though I firmly believe everyone has a story. I just don’t want Sarah feeling like she’s under the microscope here.”

“Too late for that.” Sarah added a smile to help convince her comment was a joke.

“So, what is it like?” Rachel asked.

“It’s got some benefits.”

“Ooh, like those super cool leather jackets you got to wear for the playoffs a year or so ago.”

Oh. “I guess. But I meant more like the fact he gets paid a nice salary, and gets time off for several months a year. And there are some nice opportunities to meet people, and help where we can.”

“I think I saw pictures of you at a fundraiser for the Toronto Children’s Hospital,” Anna said.

Sarah nodded. Back when she’d been pregnant the second time, and dared pray that her unborn child would never have to face some of the incredible challenges these children had faced.

That was one prayer that had been answered, she supposed.

And one she might have to face if Dr. McKinnon’s grim predictions proved right.

“Sarah, are you okay?” Serena asked.

She blinked hard, nodded, and pasted on a smile. “But as good as it is, it’s also hard when he’s away a lot, or gets injured, or anything he says or does or is thought to have said or done gets gossiped about online.”

Jackie pressed her lips together. She’d understand.

“Then there’s the tension of how much do you share. Like, I have my own career—”

“I love your music,” Rachel said.

“Thank you.” That was sweet. “And I guess I didn’t come unprepared for what fame could look like.

But let’s just say there’s a world of difference between Christian music fans and some people who watch hockey.

” Sarah’s smile turned wry. “The language used isn’t always the same.

” And had resulted in various troll-like social media users being banned.

Which didn’t stop them, as they just started new accounts.

Then there were others who seemed to enjoy posting comments designed to draw attention to their provocative user pictures.

Hmm. Maybe it really was time for her to get a virtual assistant.

“People who love hockey—am I right?” Rachel rolled her eyes.

Sarah stiffened. “It is a fun game.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.

Sorry. It’s just that my husband Damian is addicted to the sport.

He’s probably watching the playoff game now with John, and fan-girling over your husband like you wouldn’t believe.

He’s a big Brent Karlsson fan—and Dan Walton fan, too,” she winked, “so he’s probably like a little kid in Disneyland right now, sitting there with one of his heroes. ”

Sarah’s lips curved to one side. She wondered how Dan was coping with that. There was a world of difference between being able to watch something for pleasure, and feeling like you were still “on” in front of others and still having to perform. Which was a bit like how she felt now.

“Sarah, I’ve really loved your music, and I’ve really enjoyed your podcast too,” Jackie said sincerely. “Especially that recent one on thankfulness. It’s so true, isn’t it? It’s easy to only be thankful in the good times, but so hard to remember in the tough times.”

There was a chorus of Amens , including a loud one from Anna, which drew everyone’s attention.

“What?” Anna said. “I’m agreeing like you all were. Sometimes it’s hard to practice what you preach. I bet even Sarah would agree.”

“It is,” Sarah said quietly. “I certainly don’t have it all together.”

Thankfulness. It brought back memories of something Dan had once said to her, about choosing to be thankful.

Even with the recent challenges, there was a choice: look at what she didn’t have, or remember what she did, like a wonderful husband, a beautiful life, a dream career, but most importantly, she had God’s love. Why was that so easy to forget?

Her eyes pricked with emotion, and she lowered her head to sip her drink.

“I think we should give Sarah a break for a moment,” Serena said kindly.

“Amen,” Sarah murmured, which drew some smiles.

The conversation soon drifted to other things, giving Sarah a moment to compose herself.

She caught Staci’s glance and offered a small smile, then cut some of the camembert cheese and placed it on a cracker.

Food she wasn’t supposed to eat while she was pregnant.

It didn’t matter now, so she might as well enjoy.

Something to be thankful for. Thanks, God. She rolled her eyes at herself.

Later, Staci switched seats and murmured, “I didn’t mean to put you under the spotlight like that.”

“It’s okay.”

“And just so you know I won’t include you in a book.”

“I appreciate it. I don’t think people would think my story that interesting.”

“You’re wrong there. A girl who grew up in the remote mountains of a country most people have never heard of, who then marries an NHL star? Yeah, that’s interesting.”

Sarah shrugged. “It’s just my normal.”

“But not most people’s, hence the interest.”

“How did you know that about PNG?”

“You have a Wikipedia page, and a few places where your bio is mentioned. It’s not that hard to find.”

Huh. Sarah traced the stitching in the white leather couch. “Sometimes it seems like a different life.”

Staci nodded. “James, my husband, says the same about his time working in Africa. Maybe you and Dan should come over for dinner sometime. I bet you and James would have a lot in common.”

Maybe they would. “Thanks. I’ll mention it to Dan.”

Staci smiled.

A baby cried.

Sarah stiffened, then noticed Staci had also stilled, her smile fading.

“Are you okay?” she asked Staci.

Staci glanced behind her, then said in a lower voice, “I thought it was safe to come tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jackie said she’d leave the baby with Lincoln, but…” Staci bit her lip then looked at Sarah. “You don’t have a child, do you? Like a secret baby you’re keeping off social media that nobody knows about?”

Her heart panged. “No.”

Staci sighed. “This will make me sound like such a bad Christian, but sometimes I can’t stand being around women who seem to live in a baby bubble, especially when I,” she gulped, “when I have endometriosis and can’t fall pregnant.”

“I’m so sorry.” An overwhelming urge to comfort her saw Sarah hug her, then whisper, “The doctors told me after the car accident when my fiancé died that the surgeries meant that I’d never have children. I’ve since had three miscarriages, so I know how hard it is to struggle with envy.”

Staci clutched her tighter, and they stayed that way for a long moment, until the other room noise ceased, and Sarah realized how it must look for her to be hugging a near stranger like this. She gently pulled away, wiped her eyes. Saw Staci do the same.

“Everything okay over there?” Jackie asked.

“Yep,” Staci said, then added in a softer voice to Sarah, “You should talk about that on your podcast.”

She should. Why women felt a sense of shame in not fulfilling some people’s idea of womanhood was one of those hard things rarely talked about, especially as a Christian. How many people suffered from fertility issues, or suffered the pain of miscarriage in silence?

“I’m still figuring out how to get a godly perspective on this,” she admitted. “And how to talk about it when Dan wants to keep things private.”

Staci winced. “So that’s what you meant before.” She nodded. “I get it. I really do. You have to be real, but not too real. Vulnerability is hard, especially in this world of trolls.”

“You’re preaching to the choir here.”

“What are you two talking about?” Anna asked.

“Social media challenges,” Sarah said.

“And how she and James have missionary backgrounds, so might need to swap stories one day,” Staci added.

“You were a missionary?” Rachel asked.

“A missionary’s daughter,” Sarah corrected. Then was forced to explain what life was like in the highlands of Papua New Guinea.

“Wow, that sounds almost as rustic as the Lodge.”

“The what?” Sarah asked.

“Muskoka Ferns Lodge.” Anna shuddered.

“Last year’s scandal,” Rachel said. “The Lodge was supposed to be a place where high risk elderly people could live out their twilight years in beautiful Muskoka, but it was a scam.”

“So awful,” Serena murmured.

Anna winced. “I feel so bad. My family knew the people who were ripping everyone off, but nobody knew what they were doing. Until Joel mentioned something to Tom, my fiancé, and got the ball rolling.”

“The wrecking ball,” Staci murmured.

“Damian, my husband, said it was criminal that such a place existed,” Rachel added. “We were all at a fundraising ball last summer when the Craylings got busted.”

“Oh, I think I remember something now.” Brief glimpses. She’d been caught in the pangs of grief of her second miscarriage to pay too much attention to local Muskoka news. “What happened to all the people who’d been living there?”

“They got shifted to various other homes,” Jackie said. “I know Golden Elms took a couple in short-term, but most were moved back to larger facilities in the city.”

“It’s so sad when they came to Muskoka hoping to escape that,” Serena said.

Sarah’s heart stirred with compassion. How awful that these poor people were without a home. “I wish there was a way to help them.”

“There used to be,” Anna said. “My mom was on a charity fundraising committee called the Musko-cheers.”

“Cute name.”

Anna’s nose wrinkled. “She was so embarrassed to be associated with the Craylings that she resigned. In fact, everyone involved in the Musko-cheers was so ashamed that they haven’t dared do anything again.

And honestly some of the ladies are a little more elderly so I think they won’t ever want to put their hand up to do any form of fundraising again. ”

“That’s such a shame,” Jackie murmured.

Anna nodded. “Especially when they’ve done a lot of good with their fundraising over the years.” She glanced at Sarah. “Last year’s ball was supposed to support the Lodge, but last I heard all the money has been frozen until all the legalities are complete. Which might take years.”

“So all those people are still without a proper home?” Sarah asked.

“They’ve got a more proper home than what they had,” Rachel said. “Damian said some of them were sleeping in what looked like pig pens.”

“That’s terrible!” Her heart swelled with indignation . Oh, it’d be good to fix it up and help them in some way.

“Right?” Anna shook her head. “The Lodge is up for sale, but nobody wants to touch it. It used to be an old campground, and while it has a few useable buildings, most of it is unlivable.”

“We should pray for a solution,” Serena said.

Sarah nodded, catching Jackie’s pressed lips and bowed head, before closing her own eyes as Serena prayed aloud.

“Lord, we ask that You be with all those poor people who have been affected by the awful conditions of Muskoka Ferns. Bring righteousness and justice and healing to them, and use us for Your purposes. Amen.”

“Amen,” Sarah echoed, even as Serena’s last five words continued to bounce around her heart Lord, use me for Your purposes .

She opened her eyes, glanced around the room, and smiled as peace filled her. She might be friends with a number of the women who were married to Dan’s friends in the online Bible study of Original Six players, but being friends with the women here felt like a God-ordained thing too.