by Leah Atwood
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
This Is Now
Always Faithful Two
Leah Atwood
Copyright © 2017 by Leah Atwood
Cover Design © Covers by Ramona
Cover Image © Adobestock.com
Unless otherwise noted, all Scripture quotations are taken from the HCSB®, Copyright © 1999, 2000, 2002, 2003, 2009 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission. HCSB® is a federally registered trademark of Holman Bible Publishers.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
To my husband-
Thank you for your years of service to our great nation, and thank you for always standing by my side no matter what life throws at us. I love you!
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Letter From The Author
About the Author
Other Available Titles
Chapter One
The deafening ache in her heart screamed, but no one heard her private cry.
Janie Stroud stared out the window of the passenger seat, watching autumn’s masterpiece pass her by. Each turn in the road offered a fresh view of the hilly countryside, but she couldn’t muster the strength to find joy in its beauty.
A year ago she would have, but that was BMD. Before Mike Died.
Life lost its vibrancy in that split-second after she’d received the news. The days came, and then the nights. Weeks, and now months. Soon, a year. She didn’t want to live out the rest of her days in agonizing despair, but she didn’t know how to change.
Each day became a little less dark, and that gave her hope. Maybe one day she would live again. Feel that spark that made her want to get up in the morning and face the world. See the beauty in God’s creation.
One day.
“Either of you hungry yet?”
Evan’s question tore her gaze from the window. She glanced to Jared sitting in the rear seat. “If you guys are hungry, I don’t mind stopping.”
Jared leaned forward, focusing his gaze on the screen of the GPS. “Does that say four hours still?”
“Four hours and twelve minutes to be exact.” Evan’s stomach rumbled. “I don’t think my stomach will wait until we get to Lilston, but I can grab something quick if y’all don’t want to sit down at a restaurant.”
“I’m down with having a solid meal.” Jared tapped her shoulder. “What about you, Janie?”
“Fine with me.” She allowed a smile to form.
The two men she traveled with, plus the one they were headed to see, meant the world to her. Evil had ripped Mike from her, but Providence had given her three “brothers” in Mike’s absence. Evan, Jared, and Wyatt. The men had all served together, had been involved in the helicopter crash that killed Mike.
A girl couldn’t ask for three better men to deem themselves her protectors. They’d helped her through those initial months after Mike’s death when even her blood family couldn’t penetrate the walls she’d built. They’d ensured she remained a part of the squadron family, even though her connection officially ended. They mowed her lawn, fixed the leaky faucets, and changed her oil.
At her weakest moments, they’d stepped in and filled the gaps. They shared a loss and grief that few could understand. Maybe she’d become too dependent on them, but she needed their strength for now and wasn’t too proud to admit it.
“Do you recall seeing any signs for upcoming restaurants?” Evan glanced at the dashboard. “Or gas stations?”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I saw one for what looked like a mom and pop place, about fifteen minutes ago. It said twenty miles ahead.” Jared shifted his legs, pushing her back in the process. “Sorry.”
“Why don’t you sit up front after we eat?” She’d insisted he sit there before they left Jacksonville, but he wouldn’t hear of it.
“I’m fine back here.” Jared pointed out the left window. “I see a sign. That must be the restaurant.”
A few seconds later, the details of the sign became visible, and Evan sighed with relief. “They have a gas station.”
“Didn’t I tell you to fill up at the last stop?” She clucked her tongue then smiled. “Men. They never want to listen to a woman.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Evan shot her a grin. “We made it to the gas station, though, didn’t we?”
The car sputtered.
She raised her brows and gave Evan a pointed stare. “We’re not there yet.”
Evan steered his car to the exit ramp, and his lips moved.
A silent prayer, she presumed—she’d done the same. She had no desire to push the car to a pump.
“We should make it.” Jared’s twisted lips didn’t display the confidence of his statement. “I ran my truck too low once and made it to the pump from farther than this.”
Looking beyond the exit, she searched for the gas station. Please don’t let it be one that’s a mile down the road. She released her breath when she saw it down the road, no more than a thousand feet if that. Not that running out of gas would be the worst thing to happen to her—not by far—but a nuisance, nonetheless.
When they pulled up to a pump, they all gave a cheer, then laughed.
The sorrow she’d harbored the entire trip eased off. Funny, how something so trivial and silly can ignite tiny bursts of happiness in me. The true test would come Saturday during Wyatt’s wedding. She feared being inundated with memories of her own wedding to Mike, but not attending wasn’t an option.
No matter how difficult, she’d be there with a smiling face. She owed nothing less to her dear friend.
“How are you holding up?” Jared asked while Evan filled the tank.
“All right.”
Jared squinted, as though examining her answer for truth. “I don’t believe you, but tell us if it’s too much.”
“I’ll be fine, promise.” She sucked in a long breath. “It’s my only choice.”
Before Jared could comment further, Evan slipped back in the driver’s seat and leaned down to rub his ankle.
&nb
sp; Janie glanced back at Jared, who shook his head, warning her not to say anything.
A man has his pride. That’s what Jared told her when they first started planning the trip north for Wyatt’s wedding. She hadn’t wanted Evan to drive the duration, thought it would be too hard on his leg. He needs to do this, Jared had explained.
She understood. Evan had been fortunate not to lose his leg in the crash but had a permanent limp as a result. Forced into medical retirement had made him feel like less a man. He hadn’t said so, but Janie saw it in his eyes—heard it in his voice.
Making the drive from North Carolina to Pennsylvania offered him a measure of self-respect, gave him a victory over his body. Most people wouldn’t see it as such, but for Evan, it was something he had to do, and Janie wouldn’t interfere.
A log cabin sat a quarter mile down the road, flanked by tall pines. The gravel parking lot had fifteen cars in it, a solid number considering the small space. Four steps led to a wide porch, and a long ramp to the side offered handicap access. A lit-up sign identified the building as the “Log Cabin Restaurant.”
“That’s an original name.” A sarcastic smirk flitted over Jared’s mouth.
“It’s cute and homey. I like it.” Nostalgia clawed her emotions. She and Mike had eaten at a similar place on their honeymoon.
Evan tucked his keys in his pocket and put a hand to the door. “If the food’s good, that’s all I care about.”
Janie got out of the car and let the guys walk ahead several paces. She needed a moment to collect herself after the fresh attack of memories.
“Coming?” Evan called over his shoulder.
“Be right there. Have a pebble in my shoe.” At least she hadn’t lied. She removed the ballet-slipper style shoe from her right foot and dumped the small stone.
Walking behind her friends, she saw Evan’s pronounced limp. She hadn’t seen it that bad in months. He struggled with the steps, his clenched jaw the only sign of pain and frustration—no one who didn’t know him would realize the effort it took him. Why didn’t he swallow his pride and take the handicap ramp? Stubborn man.
Jared reached the door first and held the door open until they had each entered the restaurant.
A woman wearing a yellow gingham shirt and denim skirt greeted them. “Have a seat anywhere. Dottie will be with you shortly.”
Only three tables were free, and Janie walked toward the booth by a window. She sat on one side while Jared and Evan sat next to each other on the opposite. They gave her space, made sure not to create an awkward situation for her in which someone would think either of them were her boyfriend.
Evan inhaled. “Smells good in here.”
“Yeah, it does.” Jared relaxed in the chair. “If the food is as good as it smells, we’re in luck.”
The aroma of sweet, slow-simmered barbecue sauce enticed her appetite—a rare feat these days.
Dottie, a middle-aged woman with a contagious smile, approached the table and distributed menus. She returned after a few minutes with their drinks and took their orders.
“Where are you all from?” Dottie asked after bringing their food. “Not from around here, I can tell by your accents, but you each have different ones.”
“Traveling from North Carolina where we’re stationed. Wyoming is home for me.” Jared added an exaggerated twang to his second statement.
“A cowboy, huh?” Dottie winked. “Married me one of them twenty years ago.”
Jared played along. “Been a while since I’ve been on a horse. Helicopters are my ride of choice lately.”
Crooking a finger to her chin, Dottie eyed them. “Marine Corps, right?”
Evan nodded. “Yes, ma’am, and South Louisiana for me. Cajun country, born and bred.”
“That was my guess with that accent and those dark features. A cowboy and a bayou boy. What a pair.” Dottie turned her attention to Janie. “What about you sweetheart? My guess is Midwest, but I can’t decide which state.”
“Iowa.” Janie smiled, enjoying the friendly conversation with a stranger.
“What brings you up this way? Vacation?”
“A friend’s wedding in Lilston.” Evan unwrapped his silverware and placed the napkin on his lap.
“Nice area. I’ve passed through several times on my way to Erie.” She laid a stack of extra napkins on the table. “Enjoy your meal. Just holler if you need anything else.”
Janie picked at her food—a hard action to hide when she had a humongous grilled chicken sandwich in front of her with barbecue sauce overflowing onto the fries. She squirted a stream of ketchup onto her plate and dipped a fry. Nibbled at a few before cutting her sandwich in half.
The sauce trickled onto her hand when she picked up the bun. A single bite convinced her to eat the entire sandwich. It would be a shame to waste food that good. Before she realized it, she’d eaten her whole meal, the most she’d eaten at one sitting since Mike died.
Belly full, she relaxed in her chair, waiting for Evan to finish his ribs and Jared to eat the last bites of his bacon cheeseburger. Perhaps the change of scenery was helping her after all—but it had been a process. Or maybe she’d just been hungry for too long. Either way, peace she hadn’t experienced in months cascaded over her. She’d take it for the moment.
Dottie stopped by the table, and Jared asked for the check.
“It’s already taken care of.” Dottie tipped her head to an older couple walking out the door. “They overhead you’re military and wanted to pay your tab. Said it’s the least they could do for those who’ve risked their lives for our country.”
The innocent, gracious, sentiment shattered the fragile peace Janie had found. She pushed away from the table. “Excuse me.”
Evan and Jared cast her a sympathetic gaze, and she figured they understood. No one in the restaurant except them could possibly know that her husband had paid the ultimate price. She ran to the restroom before anyone could see her tears. Just because she couldn’t get her emotions under control didn’t mean she had to bring everyone else down, especially after the act of kindness shown toward her and her friends.
She leaned against the cold tile wall in the bathroom, blotting her eyes with a rough paper towel. Would the nightmare ever end? Would she ever be able to hear a simple statement without melting down?
Her reflection in the mirror caught her attention. The twenty pounds she’d lost since December made her face gaunt and pale. Her cheekbones protruded more than they should, and dark circles rested under her sad eyes. Even looking into her own eyes reminded her of Mike—he always said the shade of brown and green reminded him of dried moss.
The bathroom door creaked opened, and Janie ducked her head until she saw Dottie.
“The boys told me your situation. I’m really sorry.” Dottie pressed a tentative hand to Janie’s arm. “My first husband died in a boating accident twenty-five years ago. Being a young widow’s not easy.”
“I’m sorry.” Overcome by embarrassment at her rapid escape to the restroom, Janie tucked a hair behind her ear.
“People will give you all sort of advice about moving on, but most of them have never walked in your shoes.”
“Don’t I know that already.” If another person told her how time healed all wounds, or that she’d find love again, she couldn’t be held responsible for her reaction.
“Would you be willing to hear advice from a woman who’s been there?” Dottie lowered her hand and didn’t speak again until Janie nodded. “There’s no way to sugarcoat it and tell you time will magically heal your pain. Truth be told, you’ll never forget your first husband. Take all the time you need to grieve. Rushing the process will only prolong it.”
“Will it get easier?” Tears threatened to form, but her eyes remained dry for now.
“In time. The pain dulls, and you’ll find ways to remember the good. You might even fall in love again, but make sure it’s for the right reasons.”
She shook her head. “Love’s not on my radar
.”
An adoring expression settled on Dottie’s face. “It wasn’t on mine either, and I almost missed out on a great twenty years because I was afraid. That said—follow your heart. When you’re ready, you will know, but don’t settle for less than love for the sake of not being alone.”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.”
“Only God knows.” Dottie gifted her an empathetic grin. “I won’t keep you, but when your friends told me your story, God nudged my heart to follow you in here.”
“Thank you.” To you and God for sending you here. She worked up to a smile. “I was having a pity party for myself, and I needed the reminder I’m not the only person who’s suffered a loss.”
Dottie picked up a crumpled brown paper towel left on the sink and threw it in the trash. “You’re going to be all right. I have a good feeling about you.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“If you ever pass through this way again, stop in for a meal on me. We’ll sit and chat for a spell.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Janie stole a final glance in the mirror. Her eyes appeared less melancholy than they had minutes ago. A few well-timed carefully considered words could make all the difference. With a hand flat on the door, ready to push it open, she turned her head to face Dottie. “Thanks. I needed that encouragement.”
Chapter Two
Evan Jergens hadn’t taken pain meds in weeks, but he couldn’t wait to reach the hotel and dig a pill from his hygiene bag. He should have taken Jared up on his offer to drive from the restaurant, but pride wouldn’t allow him to accept the help. Even if he’d agreed to drive Jared’s truck instead of his own compact car, his leg wouldn’t be suffering as much, but he’d been prideful then as well.
According to the GPS, they had another thirty minutes before they reached Lilston. Thirty long minutes before he could stretch out and find relief. The pain in his leg alternated between a dull ache and heavy throbbing. Every little movement between the gas pedal and brake sent excruciating shards through his bones and muscles.
If the road were straight, he’d put on cruise control, but too many sharp turns made that idea impractical. He gritted his teeth and continued driving. He’d made it this far and wouldn’t cave in the last stretch. Follow through to the finish line became his motto. I think I can, I think I can. No—I know I can, I know I can.
