Daniel shifted uncomfortably on the strange bed. His thoughts churned with bewilderment and hurt. He couldn't believe it! His first ministry and ... He wasn't wanted. That's what Brian Brewster had said. He and Nub had made up the names on the petition. The people on Hope Island didn't really want him. He was an intruder, a stranger. Brewster had only wanted a stooge, someone to help him with his money mad schemes. Well, that somebody was not Daniel Cooper! Whatever else he was, he would never sell his honor or his heart. He served God, not man or material possessions. He would leave, of course. In spite of Molly Brewster's encouragement and kind words, Daniel knew better than to stay where he wasn't wanted. It was one of the lessons he'd learned on his way through life. And such a tangled, mess of a life! All he had wanted to do was to share God's word and to help others. And to please his father, but he could never please his father. You would think he would have learned that particular lesson by now. He just wasn't... good enough, he supposed. No matter how hard he tried, he usually messed it up and had to be helped out of his messes too. He winced as he remembered Vegas. He had been so embarassed and hurt then. He hadn't thought anything could hurt him more than that, but he found this did. He had taken the name of his new ministry, his first ministry as a sign. Hope Island! The hope had burned bright in his heart. A new place where he wasn't known, not by his past, not by his father's name. A place where he could find his own place in the world, where he could be Reverend Daniel Cooper and not his father's embarassment, no longer in the shadow of the great Reverend Cooper.

Daniel had lived in the shadow of his father all of his life. The expectations had been so high! He had tried hard, so very, very hard to please his father, to live up to those expectations. The stories of the wildness of the preacher's children had never applied to him. He had struggled to do what was right and be good, to make his father proud. His mother had told him not to worry about it so and he tried to listen to her, but he just hadn't been able to let it go. His mother loved him and his father too - he supposed his father loved him. He tossed to his back. His mother had offered encouragement, love and warmth. She had nurtured his spirit through the hardest blows. This was just one more. He would survive. He always did. He tossed to his side. She had gifted him with her love of music and she had started him with piano and guitar. He remembered the lessons he had taken, getting better and better with practice. She had told him that he had to practice to get other things right as well. Why others seemed to be able to do those things without practicing, he didn't know. He just knew he had to practice to get a lot of things right. But his father only remembered the things he got wrong. His father's people reminded him of them every time he called or visited. He flushed with shame. Here he was, once more returning home to his father with his tail tucked between his legs like a whipped dog. Failed before even giving his first sermon. His hopes had been so high! And he had fallen so low. He fell into a restless sleep that offered no relief to his painful thoughts, dreaming of his father and his father's disappointment.

Daniel woke to the alarm and fumbled it off. Tired, he was so tired. There had been no rest in his sleep. He looked around the place that could have been his home. Daniel slung his bag over his shoulder and picked up his guitar. Wistfully, he glanced at the church as he walked out the door. It looked the way he felt, battered and neglected. He walked into the doorway and took a deep breath, smelling the dust and neglect. The church was lonely, but he thought he could feel its hope. This was the Lord's house. Battered and neglected though it was, he could still feel it. Someone else would have to serve here, to rebuild this church to the glory of God. Once more, Daniel Cooper had found he wasn't wanted. He turned away without another glance and ran, helter skelter, down the path to the town proper, heading for the pier. The ferry would probably be there soon. He didn't want to miss it. He didn't want to be embarassed further by an empty church on a Sunday morning. He wondered what God planned to do with him now. Not that he expected God to tell him. No, he'd probably stay in the dark until whatever was to happen to him next happened.