Set in the high-pressure world of a Chicago TV newsroom, award-winning author Denise Hunter brings to life a heartwarming story of love and pain, desperate choices with dire consequences, and honesty and redemption. One woman sacrificing everything for her career. A young girl’s longing for acceptance. And the road to forgiveness… Paula Landin-Cohen, an investigative reporter, feels like a fish out of water in the small town of Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Then she’s offered her dream job, as a TV reporter in Chicago. There is so much to gain and so much to lose…including the only man she’s ever loved. Linn Caldwell has made a lot of mistakes—bad mistakes. She can never forgive herself for all the pain she’s caused others. How can she dare to get close to anyone again? What will happen if Paula and Linn’s secrets are revealed? Will the men they love ever be able to forgive them? Finding Faith is the third novel in the New Heights series, after Mending Places and Saving Grace . Denise Hunter is the internationally bestselling author of more than twenty-five books, including A December Bride and The Convenient Groom , which have been adapted into original Hallmark Channel movies. She has won The Holt Medallion Award, The Reader’s Choice Award, The Carol Award, The Foreword Book of the Year Award, and is a RITA finalist. When Denise isn’t orchestrating love lives on the written page, she enjoys traveling with her family, drinking green tea, and playing drums. Denise makes her home in Indiana where she and her husband are rapidly approaching an empty nest. You can learn more about Denise through her website DeniseHunterBooks.com or by visiting her Facebook page at Facebook.com/AuthorDeniseHunter. Finding Faith CHAPTER ONE “I’m ready to go,” Paula Landin-Cohen called to her husband, David, as she snapped the latches on her suitcase. The house rang with a familiar silence. She checked the bag for her boarding pass and driver’s license, then hefted the suitcase down the curved staircase, eying the bank of windows on the front of the house. December had blown into Jackson Hole, Wyoming, with cold, biting winds and at least a foot of snow. Chicago’s weather would be no better, but just the thought of the big city left her feeling as though she could soar there without benefit of Delta. As she had the past few months, she pushed aside the bitter memory of her first visit there and focused on her future. Setting her suitcase by the door, she checked her Movado. “David, we have to go.” Her voice echoed up the vaulted ceiling and through the cavernous kitchen, but this time drew a reply. “Fine,” he called—from the office, she thought. OK, not the tone she hoped for, but at least he was talking to her today. She grabbed her Burberry coat from the closet and wondered if she should take her warmest one too. Fashion overruling practicality, she closed the door just in time to catch David’s hand. “Do you mind?” he said. She backed away, ignoring his snippy tone. She wasn’t going to let him ruin this for her. She checked her bag again for the boarding pass and license. She was being compulsive, but she couldn’t let anything go wrong with this flight. She went through the list of things she’d need over the coming week. Had she packed her tape recorders? Before she could panic, she remembered sliding them into her briefcase. David stepped around her in his charcoal, woolen coat, picked up her suitcase, and walked out the door. Paula turned on the threshold and gazed at her home. Sweeper marks striped the beige carpet, running parallel across the expanse of the great room like yard lines on a football field. Her socks from yesterday lay in two distinct balls by the sofa. She turned the lock on the doorknob and shut the door behind her. David placed the suitcase in the rear compartment of the Cadillac Escalade and pushed his trendy glasses up on the bridge of his nose in a movement as familiar to her as the smell of her own home. So familiar that she rarely noticed it unless she was away for several days. She wouldn’t see David push his glasses up, smell his spicy cologne, or watch him squint over the Wall Street Journal for six days. He opened the car door for her, and she slipped inside before he clicked it shut. In spite of their problems, in spite of his relentless blaming and silent treatment, she didn’t want to part this way. Not now, when she was about to do the most exciting thing of her life. She wanted someone to share it with. Someone to be happy for her. Someone to cheer her on back home. Heaven knew her family wasn’t doing that. David slid in behind the wheel and started the vehicle. His movements were sure and precise. Another man’s motions would reveal his anger, but not David’s. “Well,” she said, “at least you’ll be able to keep the house clean this week.” She delivered the line with a hint of humor, planted there in hopes of coaxing him from his disagreeable mood