It was a year ago tonight that she’d asked God to help her find her guy. Believing He would, she’d begun every day, fully expecting to meet Mr. Right. A year was a long time to wait. Had her prayer gone amiss, or had she missed her guy?

She checked her watch. There were still a few hours to shop. It wasn’t likely that the man of her dreams would be among the Brennans’ guests, but the Word said to pray and to believe. If she were going to meet Mr. Right tonight, she ought to be wearing something better than an old bridesmaid dress.

Ry eyed the lighted seat belt sign and wondered how many times the plane would circle LAX before the pilot received permission to land. His initial enthusiasm for the trip had worn off someplace over Wichita. What had seemed a great idea earlier in the day lost its appeal by the minute.

He’d done many impulsive things in his life, but the urge to make this trip could be his worst. What would he really accomplish by going home tonight?

Home. Most people seemed to think of that place with such reverence. They wouldn’t if they’d been told, “You don’t belong here.” If there was one phrase that ought to be stricken from the English language, that was it. Deadly, powerful, hurtful to the bone, it could break a person’s spirit if he stayed around.

But he’d been a kid back then, and just possibly, he’d been as wrong in his insights as his young patient this morning. The kid had been more scared of what his dad would say about the car being totaled than he was of his own injuries, and the kid had been very wrong. Ry had seen the boy’s father, bent over with grief at the loss of his son.

How had the two of them got it so tangled up? Was it that way with him and his family? Had he seen things from a kid’s point of view and misunderstood?

Unlike the kid, Ry had the chance to find out. For once, he would love to admit he was wrong. Make that twice. He’d been wrong to exclude God from his life. The sooner he made things right with his family, the better.

His gut instinct said he was hoping for the impossible, that he was crazy to fly straight back into trouble. For years, words like, “Why can’t you be like your brother?” “As long as you live under my roof,” and “You don’t belong” had bounced off the walls of his mind like echoes in a deep, dark well. It had to end, and that began with forgiveness.

Tonight, as the new year began, was the perfect time to show Christ’s love and prove that he wasn’t the rebel his family remembered.

Ry shifted in his seat, uncomfortable at being sandwiched in the center seat for so long. When he’d started the trip, he’d had an aisle seat, but a couple came aboard wearing Bride and Groom T-shirts and discovered they were both in center seats—one beside him. A couple ought to start their honeymoon together. Before selfishness could set it, Ry was on his feet, offering his seat to the groom.

His new seatmate on the aisle was a heavyset lady who was clearly exhausted and had napped most of the way, though she wouldn’t be rested, not with the apneas she’d had. He’d kept an uneasy vigil, ready to wake the poor woman if she didn’t start breathing again on her own.

She stirred now and sleepily said, “Are we there?”

“Just about.”

“I hope I didn’t snore. My husband says I do.”

Her husband was right, but why embarrass the lady? “Who would notice with the engine noise so loud?” he said.

The little guy in the window seat squirmed and said, “Ry, could we play some more?”

Early in the flight, he’d felt sorry for the bored little guy and asked what was in his backpack. If Ry had known it would lead to endless action-figure fantasies, he might not have been such a pal. But one more time, he sent a plastic hero rocketing to a new mission.

The lady beside him beamed. “You’re wonderful with children,” she said. “Do you have some of your own?”

He shook his head. “I’m not married.” That, of course, did not preclude parenthood, but it did for him.

“You’ll be a wonderful father,” she claimed. It was strange how women of all ages got misty-eyed over the sight of a big guy playing with a little kid, but if there were any more Brennans, it would be up to his brother.

The youngest flight attendant, a very pretty redhead who’d stopped by a couple of extra times, stopped now to say to his little buddy, “Honey, you need to put away your toys. Stow that bag under the seat.”

Ry gave her a grateful look. She returned it with a wink and slipped him a bit of paper. He’d bet their safe landing it was her phone number. Wow! She must need a New Year’s Eve date pretty bad to spend it with a superhero junkie.