Save the Date

by Jenny B. Jones

  There was love reflected in his face. And it was all for her.

  “Let me be your family.”

  Lucy Wiltshire had finally found home.

  “Yes.” She struggled to breathe. “Yes.”

  He reached into the pocket of his black blazer and pulled out her ring. The very same one that had started it all. Slipping it on her hand, he kissed her finger.

  A scattering of people clapped as Alex stood up, picked Lucy up off her feet, and crushed his mouth to hers.

  “Tell me you love me,” he said. “I need to hear it again.”

  “I love you, Alex.”

  “I’ve been miserable without you.”

  “I’m so glad.” Lucy held tight until her pulse slowed to only a gallop. “So . . . besides stopping in Greyhound bus stations in the middle of the night and proposing to women, what are you doing here?”

  Alex held her hand and looked at the ring back in its rightful place.

  “We’re going to get Marinell.” He jerked his chin toward the brute squad of men behind them. Lou wiggled his fingers in greeting. “Then we go get Jose Hernandez.”

  “Any exposure could endanger the Hernandez family,” Lucy said. “You’ll never be able to tell the media where you were tonight.”

  “I knew that before I even stepped on the plane.”

  “I don’t care what Eli Manning and Tony Romo say.” She ran her finger down his jaw. “You, Alex Sinclair, are a wonderful man.”

  An hour later Lucy walked out of the bus station with Marinell. She knew before Alex said a word the rented black Escalade in the lot was theirs.

  “Will Tupac be joining us?” Lucy climbed in the back beside Marinell.

  Alex’s mouth curled in a smile as he squeezed in beside his fiancée. “Now you’re just trying to hurt my feelings.” He leaned back in the seat and rested his arm on her shoulder.

  “Are you sure these guys know what they’re doing?” Marinell pointed to the two giants in the front seat. One more car drove a few minutes ahead of them, carrying even more men who seemed to value large muscles, bald heads, and indecipherable tattoos.

  “We’re going to get your father back,” Alex said. “I have a team in place at his house, and they’ve already made contact with your dad.” His casual tone was meant to comfort and put Marinell at ease. “As long as he follows Squid’s directions, it will be a piece of cake.”

  Lucy wished she could climb inside Alex’s mind and see if he was telling the truth. She had no idea what they were getting into, and her fear coiled like a spring.

  Alex’s hand settled over Lucy’s clutched fist. “I’m asking you to trust me. I’m not going to let anything happen to you or Marinell.”

  Half an hour stretched into an eternity, until the car finally stopped. The headlights went off, and Squid bailed out of the passenger side. The doors locked with a loud click as the Escalade sat there on the deserted dirt road. A line of telephone poles the only sign of civilization.

  “I hope he’s okay,” Marinell whispered in the quiet.

  “He will be,” Lucy said with more conviction than she felt. “Did I mention I’m grounding you for life when we get back home?”

  Marinell’s long ponytail bobbed as she nodded. “Toilet scrubbing duty?”

  Lucy patted her knee. “With your toothbrush.”

  The next hour was spent alternating between praying, reminding Marinell they would all be fine, and wanting to pinch herself that Alex was beside her.

  The man in the driver’s seat touched his earpiece. He spoke in hushed tones before turning to Alex. “The area is secure. Target is safe and en route.”

  Lucy released the breath caught in her lungs and hugged Marinell to her. Alex just smiled.

  Within minutes the other black SUV crawled down the road. The vehicle stopped beside them, and the back door opened.

  “Papi!”

  With a nod from Alex, Marinell flung open her door and ran into her father’s waiting arms.

  Lucy watched the scene for a moment before turning her gaze to Alex. “Thank you,” she said. “The things you’ve done for this family—”

  “It was worth it.”

  “Tonight,” she said. “But will it be next week? A year from now?”

  “Everything has led me to this moment, Luce. You, me, helping Carlos. That’s all that counts.” He tucked her to his side as they both watched Jose hold his daughter. “Do you have any idea how much you’ve changed my life?”

  “You have a new appreciation for Star Trek?” Lucy nestled into the comfort of his arm and reached for the hand she would hold for the rest of her life. They had traveled in the wrong direction, two wandering souls, not knowing where they fit in the world. But God had drawn them together, despite it all.

  Alex was her heart, her life, her white picket fence.

  “We have to call Clare when we get back,” Alex said. “Tell her she has a wedding to plan.”

  Lucy could see it now. Her new family. Friends. Marinell and the rest of her girls. With Alex at her side, they would start a new chapter. She would become his bride. And it would be the most perfect day.

  Just as long as Clare didn’t pick out her dress.

  Epilogue

  Three Years Later

  The sun shone down, filtering through the palmetto leaves and bathing Charleston in a hug of steamy heat. The clouds bloomed white in the sky, and the birds sang lilting songs from the trees. It was a beautiful day for a celebration.

  Lucy stood by her husband as they cut the oversized red ribbon. The gathering crowd assembled in the yard and clapped as a photographer from the Gazette snapped their picture.

  The small ceremony over, Esther Hernandez stepped out of the house and onto the wraparound porch. “You come in now,” she said. “We eat cake.”

  “I do love the way that woman thinks,” Julian said, speed-walking past Lucy and heading straight inside.

  As family and friends made their way into the house for a private celebration, Lucy lagged behind. She stopped in the middle of the yard and just took it all in. It was a two-story home with white shutters and pink clapboard siding that stood out like a smile for the entire street.

  Alex stood beside her and slipped his arm over her shoulders. “It never gets old, does it?”

  Lucy leaned her head against him, her heart full. “It just never does.”

  It was the seventh home for young adults they had opened, each one just as special as the last. Many years ago Lucy’s mother had cleaned in this house. On hands and knees, she had scrubbed until her daughter lacked for almost nothing. Anna Wiltshire had sacrificed for her, loved her. Her mother had made some wrong decisions, but the ring on Lucy’s hand was a testimony that God still moved in those as well.

  Holding open the door, Alex led Lucy inside to the dining room where everyone gathered. It was a noisy affair, full of loud voices, laughter, and faces Lucy loved.

  “Sit,” Esther said, pushing Lucy toward a chair. “Eat. I save corner piece just for you.”

  Lucy slid in beside Marinell, who was pouring Carlos a glass of punch. The Hernandez family had moved in, with Esther taking over as house mom. It was the perfect fit. She could watch Carlos grow strong, be near Marinell as she went to college, and still have plenty of time to cluck and fuss over the new girls who would fill all the bedrooms upstairs. Jose Hernandez remained a man in hiding, but thanks to Alex’s access to security and Julian’s knack for designing disguises, Jose had been able to move closer and be a more active part of his family’s lives.

  A familiar squeal brought a smile to Lucy’s face as Clare came down the hall, a curly-headed one-year-old in her arms.

  “Come here, Will.” Alex reached for his son. “Did that mean old lady scare you?”

  “He’s just hungry,” Clare said.

  “And desperate to get away from you.” Julian rolled his big blue eyes. “Grammy’s got the flash cards out again.”

  Clare raised her patrician nose. “I
t’s never too early to learn about our past presidents. I hope to see Will’s beautiful face on these cards one day.”

  Donna and Finley Sinclair helped serve cake and ice cream to all of Lucy’s girls, including her first graduates. The moment filled her, until she thought she would explode into a thousand pieces of happiness.

  Marcus Sinclair stood and raised his Dixie cup high. “To the Anna Wiltshire Home for Girls!”

  Lucy clinked her glass to Alex’s and blinked back the tears.

  “When does the next boys’ home open?” Finley asked, looking a little too interested.

  “Next month.” Alex handed the chubby baby to Lucy. Their third boys’ home was one of three slated to open over the next two years, with Alex at the helm. He already had some close friends lined up to mentor the young men. Like Chuck. And Sanjay. And some Warriors, Panthers, and Cowboys. When Alex wasn’t overseeing their new foundation for the advancement of graduated foster children, he was storming Capitol Hill, speaking to Congress about foster care reform. Her husband had become a champion for the rights of young adults, and a handful of states had started similar programs.

  Lucy kissed Will’s little fist as he waved it in the air.

  “Working on that arm already,” Alex said. “I see a Heisman Trophy in his future.”

  Lucy laughed and ran a hand over their son’s white curls. “He can be anything he wants to be. Athlete, humanitarian, scientist. We’re not going to pressure him.”

  “Don’t think I didn’t hear you reading him your Star Wars book last night.”

  Lucy frowned. “Puts him right to sleep.”

  “Don’t let it get you down, babe.”

  “You’ve spoiled him with SportsCenter. It’s all he wants.”

  “Because my kid’s a genius.”

  Lucy smiled as Alex sat down beside her, and Will gave a toothy grin. “Do you ever wonder what if?” She watched Clare make peek-a-boo faces across the table. “What if you’d gone to that debate, won the election?”

  Alex leaned over and pressed his smiling lips to hers. “Then we wouldn’t have all this.”

  And this was more than Lucy could have ever dreamed. Sweeter than Southern iced tea. Bigger than Dixie. And blessed beyond the Charleston treetops.

  Tonight she would put down the book and tell her son a story instead. How once upon a time a handsome football star had walked into her office and asked her to marry him. How a first lady had invited Lucy into her aristocratic family. And God had told her to just let the past go.

  And they all lived happily ever after.

  Because Lucy Wiltshire . . . had said yes.

  Acknowledgments

  The author is just one of many involved in creating a book. I am very grateful to the following people:

  The entire Thomas Nelson fiction team, for being a wonderful home for me and this book.

  Natalie Hanemann, for hanging in there and pushing me to kick it up a notch. Or ten notches.

  Becky Monds, for your help and input, as well as your brilliant reflections on YA lit and the WWE.

  Jamie Chavez, for talking me off a few ledges, for your brain, your creativity, your encouragement, and for always being willing to brainstorm and help me make the books better. Even when I say things like, “I need an entire plot. Any suggestions?”

  Chip MacGregor, for giving great award acceptance speeches and for thinking I’m a better person and writer than I am. Praying you continue to stay unenlightened . . .

  Jen Deshler, for laughs. Also for laughs. And don’t forget giggles.

  Katie Bond, for all your generous help in setting research. And for helping me plan a little vay-kay. You are one gracious Southern belle.

  Ashley Schneider, for all you do and for being one of the funniest gals I know.

  Erin Valentine, for reading every page. A million times. And not barfing.

  U. S. Senator John Boozman, for taking time out of your busy schedule to talk to me about the intense, demanding life of a politician. I so respect your values, your heart, and your generosity. You are a good, good man. Any errors in political facts can only be attributed to my gift for mistakes.

  Jody McAnally, for going out of your way to help me research and talk to a real live politician. You are awesome.

  Laura Jones, for loving foster children and providing me with much-needed information. And for always bringing cheesy potatoes to family dinners. And for helping me reign in Mother and Aunt Judy at concerts.

  My mother, for being a good parent. It matters. It makes a difference. And I’m grateful and blessed.

  Cara Putman, for being THE best prayer warrior, encourager, and friend. By praying over me many months ago, the theme for Save the Date was born. Your friendship blesses me beyond measure, and I am humbly grateful.

  Writer Sisters, for brainstorming, praying, and listening to me whine. You ladies are ridiculously inspiring. And make me look like a total slacker. (But I’m still gonna be your friend anyway.)

  Rachel Hauck, for your writing help and encouragement when this book was just a handful of pages. I appreciate your time and giving spirit.

  Becky Schaffer, creator and mama of the real Saving Grace, for reaching out to young women without parents, without homes, without hope. You’re changing lives, hearts, and family trees, and I stand in awe of all you’ve come through and all you give back.

  Tiffany Savage, for introducing me to Saving Grace. I would thank you for more, but I’m still mad at you for leaving the state of Arkansas. What some girls will do for an IKEA.

  Kent Hughes, for calling and checking on me during deadlines to see if I was still alive. And for providing the occasional meal during those times when I couldn’t even dredge up the energy to wash my hair or prepare anything any more involved than a Lunchable.

  Natalie Lloyd, for being an awesome writer, inspiration, and friend. I’m so grateful for your kind heart, sense of humor, listening ear, and mutual appreciation for things of high class. Like YouTube clips and inappropriate typos.

  Leslie Sheridan, for your friendship and your football help. For answering all those questions that began, “Please don’t laugh . . .” and “I know I’m a sports idiot, but . . .”

  Reading Group Guide

  1. Sometimes we think we’ve moved on from things, but God puts us in situations to show us otherwise. What “baggage” did God bring back to Lucy?

  2. Has there been a time when you’ve had to revisit an old wound from the past? How did God use that in your life?

  3. Describe the difference between Matthew and Alex. Do you believe what Lucy felt for Matthew was truly love? Explain.

  4. Describe Lucy’s motivation for the fake engagement. Describe some sacrifices you’ve made—as a mom, wife, daughter, employee, or Christian.

  5. In what ways were Marinell and Lucy similar?

  6. Imagine yourself in the shoes of one of the young women at Saving Grace. Describe what challenges these women face.

  7. How can communities, churches, families, or individuals help kids who are in or have graduated from the foster care system?

  8. How was Clare Deveraux blind to the truth of her son? Can you think of a time when you couldn’t recognize an obvious truth?

  9. Describe the fears that were holding Alex back. How did he finally push through them?

  10. As a teen, Lucy was greatly impacted by the opinions of others—so much so that she carried that trauma into adulthood. Why do women have such a hard time with this? Why do we need the approval of others? If God were sitting down to tea with you, what do you think he’d tell you?

  11. If you could go back and talk to your teen self, what would you say?

  12. In the end, Lucy surrenders it all to God. What did she gain?

  13. Where do you see Alex and Lucy twenty years from now?

  The only thing scarier than living

  on the edge is stepping off it.

  A Carol Award-winning novel

  New York’s social darling just
woke up in a nightmare:

  Oklahoma.

  Problem is, it’s right where God wants her.

  About the Author

  Jenny B. Jones writes Christian Fiction with equal parts wit, sass, and untamed hilarity. When she’s not writing, she’s living it up as a high school teacher in Arkansas. Since she has very little free time, she believes in spending her spare hours in meaningful, intellectual pursuits, such as watching E!, going to the movies and inhaling large buckets of popcorn, and writing her name in the dust on her furniture. She is the four-time Carol Award-winning author of Just Between You and Me and the Charmed Life series for young adults.