Tested by Fire: Book One in The Baxter Series When a bizarre houseboat explosion rocks the close-knit community of Baxter, firefighters, friends, and neighbors stand powerless as the McConnells' blazing hull sinks to the bottom of Heron Lake. Grief turns to outrage as new evidence proves there was one survivor -- and points to murder, something this sheltered community has never faced in its hundred-year history. In a race with the FBI, Jed sets out to track down the sole survivor, coping meanwhile with his own painful marital struggle. Baxter's mystery and Jed's dilemma are ones only God can solve in this suspenseful, surprising story of redemption amidst despair in small-town America. ISBN 1576739562 Book Prologue Rhonda Wilson lay in bed, curled up with a pillow, resenting a huge golden moon that hung in the autumn sky outside her window as if to taunt her loneliness. It was 11:30 on Friday night, and she already knew this weekend would be a repeat of all the others. Jed had come home shortly after 9:00, tipsy enough to be happy and just drunk enough to be anesthetized to her sharpened claws of silence. He had immediately retreated to the den. That’s the way it was almost every night, and Rhonda was growing weary of this heavy burden of loneliness. Jed occupied his days with work and his evenings with his friend Mike McConnell and the good ol’ boys down at O’Brian’s bar. The most maddening part of all was that Jed could stop drinking any time he wanted to. He imbibed just enough to deaden the pain of an old wound for which neither of them had a cure. Had Rhonda not understood, perhaps she could have despised him for having left her in the arms of indifference while he found solace in his precious pitchers of beer. Hating him would have been much easier than hanging on to the hope that someday he would love her again. Upon hearing Jed’s approaching footsteps, she wiped her tears with the corner of her pillowcase and pulled the covers up around her shoulders. The creaky bedroom door slowly opened and Jed’s shadowy figure shuffled across the hardwood floor before finally flopping onto his side of the bed and turning his back to her. The mantle clock struck 11:45, its chimes drowning out the sound of her sniffling. Rhonda held back the tears and exhaled slowly through her mouth. The last thing she wanted was his pity.