by Lois Richer
“Yes, I do. And this is it.” As she glared at him flakes of her green mask began to peel off. “You’re not going to give me some silly protest about the husband providing for his wife, are you? Because I won’t listen. If I’m marrying you, we share. Agreed?”
“But—” Zac turned, glanced back over Peace Meadow, then up the small incline where she hoped their home would sit.
“My parents would be ecstatic to know that money was being used for a wellness center to help people learn more about God. That’s exactly what they dedicated their lives to.” As Abby studied him, the joy she’d glowed with moments ago slowly leeched away. “I’m sorry, Zac. I can see you don’t want this. I just thought—” Her head ducked down to hide the tears he knew were gathering. “I got carried away.”
“Daddy! Abby’s crying.” Zoe squeezed out from beneath the bench in the gazebo.
“Yeah, crying. Aren’t you going to kiss her better?” Mia demanded.
“We don’t want our mom to cry on the getting-married day,” Zoe insisted, her forehead creased.
Zac studied them, one by one, feeling like he’d been ambushed. And then he realized that he was going to have to amp up his vision, not of his eyes but of his faith, to keep up with his wife and family.
“A wellness center, our own land, a precious wife and two nosy kids who spy on us,” he said, and burst into laughter. “God is going to drown me with blessings.”
The girls raced over and grabbed his legs, giggling like crazy. Abby studied him, her tears having turned the gunk on her face into green-glue rivers.
“Ours,” she whispered. “Yes. Together.”
“I’ll go over and put down a deposit on our dream before the pastor arrives to marry us,” he promised. “I can manage that.”
“Is it too much?” she asked when he pulled her into his arms.
“No way. You just keep dreaming, wifey. I’ll keep running to catch up to you.” He kissed her thoroughly, right in front of his daughters, who watched unabashedly.
“Wifey?” She frowned.
“Seemed appropriate with that stuff on your face.” He froze as a voice shrieked across Peace Meadow.
“Abigail Armstrong, you come back here right now! I’m managing this wedding and we will not have any goof-ups!” Miss Partridge warned.
“Might have been a mistake to give her that responsibility,” Zac whispered for Abby’s ears alone.
“Never. The more the merrier to join us on our ride through life.” She tugged him forward by his shirt and planted a kiss on his lips that left him breathless. “Don’t be late, hubby-to-be,” she counseled. “Miss P. won’t like it. Neither will I.”
Hand in hand, a twin on either side, they walked toward the woman who’d become such a good friend.
“Abigail, let us get into the house, please. Zac.” She nodded at him sternly.
“Miss Partridge.” He stepped forward and brushed her cheek with his lips. “You are amazing. Don’t even think of moving away. We need you.”
“Wherever would I be moving to when I have your single brother to counsel once I get this wedding under way?” She shook her head at him, then shooed the twins toward his log house.
“Sam’s here?” Zac couldn’t stop grinning. “My long-lost brother returns on the day I get to marry the most beautiful woman in the world and plan our next venture. So fitting.”
“Yes, it is,” Miss Partridge said primly. “And he has a friend with him. John somebody who wants to see you.” She grabbed Abby’s hand to pull her forward but Zac wouldn’t let go.
“John,” he said, staring into her eyes. “Could it be—what else do you suppose God has planned for us?”
Her beautiful smile radiated joy as her fingers grazed over his face and across his lips.
“Just have to wait and see, Mr. Missionary,” she said with a smile.
Zac nodded, his heart singing. “As long as you’re right beside me, Mrs. Missionary.”
“Abigail!” Miss Partridge called. “Do hurry, dear. We don’t have all day.”
Abby looked at Zac. They both burst into laughter before racing toward their matchmaker and the future God had planned for them at Hanging Hearts Ranch.
* * *
If you enjoyed this story, pick up these other stories from Lois Richer:
A Dad for Her Twins
Rancher Daddy
Gift-Wrapped Family
Accidental Dad
Meant-to-Be Baby
Mistletoe Twins
Rocky Mountain Daddy
Rocky Mountain Memories
Hoping for a Father
Available now from Love Inspired!
Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com.
Keep reading for an excerpt from A Father’s Promise by Mindy Obenhaus.
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to Hanging Hearts Ranch. It’s always nice to come home, though perhaps not under Zac’s circumstances. It took time for him to understand that losing his mission and being blinded was only another step along the path to serving God. Abby, too, experienced deep loss, first her child and her husband, then the orphanage where she soothed her aching heart by ministering to needy kids. But God had so much more planned for both their futures.
Perhaps that’s a lesson we all need to learn. God doesn’t make mistakes. There’s a reason for the bumps and stumbles we experience, though we may not understand why at the time.
I hope you’ll join me again soon for Sam Calhoun’s story. Meantime, I’d love to hear from you, either through this publisher, via email at [email protected], at my website loisricher.com or on Facebook.
Till we meet again, may you truly experience the joy of knowing God our Father is with you all the time, in every situation.
Blessings,
Lois Richer
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM
Uplifting stories of faith, forgiveness and hope.
Fall in love with stories where faith helps guide you through life’s challenges, and discover the promise of a new beginning.
6 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!
A Father’s Promise
by Mindy Obenhaus
Chapter One
Laurel Donovan had no reason to be anxious. After all, she’d been contemplating this day for weeks. Yet as she maneuvered her fourteen-month-old daughter’s stroller along the tree-lined streets of Bliss, Texas, Monday morning, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to happen. Something big and life altering.
Breathing in the crisp spring air, she cast the ridiculous notion aside and listened to Sarah-Jane’s happy babble instead. Laurel had never expected to be a mother, because to do that one typically had a husband, and Laurel wasn’t prone to romantic relationships. Matter of fact, they scared her. She’d had enough rejection for one lifetime.
Unfortunately, she was human. And two years ago, the only faith Laurel had was in herself. But Sarah-Jane was a perfect example of what the pastor always said about God turning even our biggest mistakes into our greatest blessings.
Being a single mother wasn’t easy, though, especially when you had no family. And while Laurel’s grandmama Corwin had cared for her after her mother passed away, Sarah-Jane would have no one if anything happened to Laurel. She’d become a ward of the state, and Laurel couldn’t let that happen. She had to do everything in her power to make sure her daughter would be taken care of by people who loved her, whether she was with Laurel or not.
The late-April sun warmed her face as they approached Rae’s Fresh Start Café in the heart of Bliss. The breakfast, brunch, lunch and specialty coffee place had become a daily staple for Laurel even before Sarah-Jane was born. No one but Rae could make decaf coffee taste as good as its caffeinated counterpart. And the amazing brew had sustained Laurel throughout her pr
egnancy.
Her daily visits had also provided her with three of the best friends she’d ever known. Thanks to Bliss’s ad campaign to lure younger folks to the aging town, Rae, Laurel, Paisley and Christa had arrived within a year or so of each other, all looking for a new beginning. And not a one of them had ever judged Laurel for being single and pregnant. Instead, they’d embraced her, walking with her through her pregnancy and beyond. Which was why Laurel had insisted on this morning’s meeting.
“G’morning, Laurel.” Rusty Hoffman paused his sidewalk sweeping in front of the Bliss State Bank building. “And how is Miss Sarah-Jane doing today?” Leaning against his broom, the stocky middle-aged man with brown eyes and black hair peppered with a hint of gray smiled down at her daughter.
“Happy to be outside and on the move.” Laurel pulled back the stroller’s canopy to reveal a wide-eyed Sarah-Jane staring blankly at the man.
“Well, I can’t say as I blame her,” Rusty said. “The Lord’s given us a fine morning.”
“He sure has.” Laurel took in the cloudless sky, grateful that God had led her to Bliss, where bankers weren’t too pretentious to sweep sidewalks and streets were built around two-hundred-year-old live oaks. Back in Dallas, they would have cut down the trees in the name of progress.
Laurel coaxed Sarah-Jane to wave goodbye before continuing across the street to the courthouse square. Brick buildings dating back to the late 1800s still lined two of the streets surrounding the square. Some had been painted in bright colors indicative of the Victorian era, while others remained in their natural state. Their charm, coupled with the ancient live oaks and magnolia trees that encircled the courthouse, were what had initially drawn Laurel to Bliss nearly two years ago.
After the death of her grandmother, a pregnant Laurel had been eager for a new beginning. Someplace she could call home. And like the town motto said, everyone needed a little Bliss in their life.
Her daughter chattered and clapped her hands as they moved off the curb to cross to the café.
“You know where we’re going, don’t you, baby?”
Laurel had been pondering her daughter’s future almost from the moment she’d discovered she was pregnant. And after a recent bout with the flu had Laurel envisioning all sorts of horrible scenarios, she was determined to take steps to ensure her daughter would be cared for. So today was the day she was finally going to ask her friends, all of whom were single, if they would consent to raise Sarah-Jane in the event anything happened to Laurel.
Halfway across the street, the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly prickled, and a sense of dread had her feeling as though she was moving in slow motion. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a red Crown Victoria rounding the corner. Another glance had her realizing it was coming straight toward her and Sarah-Jane.
She tried to run but couldn’t seem to make her feet move.
“Look out!” she heard someone yell.
Fear tried to close in around her, but she couldn’t allow that to happen. She had to protect Sarah-Jane.
As the car inched closer, she propelled Sarah-Jane toward the curb. The stroller had barely left her grip when the vehicle struck Laurel. She rolled onto the hood of the car, only to tumble off again when the driver slammed on the brakes a split second later.
Air whooshed out of Laurel’s lungs. She lay there, momentarily dazed, the shaded asphalt cool beneath her fingers and cheek. Her breath returning, she mentally evaluated her body parts, then opened her eyes and lifted her head to see people gathering on the sidewalk.
A man with dark hair knelt beside Sarah-Jane’s stroller, concern marring his handsome features as he talked to her. And he—looked familiar.
The car door creaked open then, and a woman shrieked.
“I killed her! Oh, help me, I killed her!”
Laurel knew that voice just as well as she knew the vehicle that had struck her. She rolled onto her back as the ninety-three-year-old shuffled alongside her in tennis shoes that were whiter than her hair.
“Mildred Godwin!” Laurel ground out the name.
“Ack!” The woman, who was so small she could barely see over the steering wheel, pressed a hand to her chest. “You’re alive! Thank You, Lord! You’re alive!”
“Mildred—” Laurel sat up, grateful the nonagenarian had a tendency to drive at a snail’s pace. Though in the moment, it had seemed much faster. “—you know you’re not supposed to be driving. How on earth did you get your keys? I thought your son locked them up.”
“Ladies—” Drenda Kleinschmidt, owner of Bliss Antiques and Gifts and wife of Laurel’s pastor, helped Laurel to her feet “—are y’all all right?” Concern filled her blue eyes as they assessed Laurel.
“I’m fine.” Laurel continued to wait for Mildred to respond about the keys.
Instead, the older woman pursed her bright red lips together and looked away, suddenly sheepish.
“Mildred...?” Hands on her hips, Laurel was not about to budge until she had an answer. The woman was a hazard to the entire town.
“I—” The woman lifted one slight shoulder. “I had an extra set.” She glanced at Laurel. “And my Muffy was hungry for some of that special cat food. You know, the kind they advertise being served in a crystal bowl. Muffy loves it so much, and I was all out.”
“That is no excuse. You could have killed me and my daughter.” The mere thought had Laurel pressing a hand to her stomach.
A siren wailed in the distance, and Mildred’s hazel eyes went wide. “They’re comin’ for me.” She latched onto Laurel’s arm with a death grip. “Please, don’t let them take me. I’d never survive in jail. I’m just an old woman. Please.”
“Mildred, I highly doubt you’re going to jail.” Drenda, the epitome of a sweet spirit, wrapped an arm around the older woman and patted her frail shoulder.
Confident that Drenda could handle things from here, Laurel pried Mildred’s surprisingly strong fingers from her forearm and started toward her daughter. Her steps slowed when she, again, laid eyes on the man beside the stroller.
The sun glinted off his dark hair, and when he looked up, his gaze locked with Laurel’s.
Her breath caught in her throat. Why would he be in Bliss?
She absently rubbed her left temple. Maybe she’d hit her head, after all, because she was obviously seeing things.
“Laurel!” From out of nowhere, Christa and Paisley rushed toward her.
Behind them, Rae paused beside the guy at the stroller. She said something to him, then proceeded to unhook Sarah-Jane and pick her up.
“We just heard what happened.” Christa’s hazel eyes surveyed Laurel from head to toe. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I just—”
Things grew quieter as the police cruiser pulled up and that obnoxious siren finally stopped.
All of this chaos was making Laurel’s head swim. “I just want to see my daughter.”
Paisley slid an arm around Laurel’s waist. “Of course, you do, darlin’. Come on.”
Christa took the lead, parting the group of onlookers who’d gathered. Unlike in Dallas, things like this didn’t happen in Bliss every day, so, naturally, all of the commotion had garnered quite a crowd. By noon, the entire town would likely know what had happened, and the story would, no doubt, make the county’s weekly newspaper.
“Sarah-Jane is perfectly fine.” Rae bounced the child in her arms. “All the commotion had her fretting for a little bit, but that’s all.”
Laurel reached for her daughter and hugged her to her chest. “Thank You, God for protecting my baby.” Tears spilled onto her cheeks of their own volition. Burying her face in Sarah-Jane’s neck, Laurel breathed in her sweet fragrance. Everything really was all right.
Except...
Lifting her head, she looked at Rae. “Where’d that guy go?”
�
�What guy?” Rae tucked a strand of brown hair that had escaped her messy-yet-oh-so-cute updo behind her ear.
“The one by Sarah-Jane’s stroller. Tall, dark hair. You were talking to him.”
“Oh, that was my brother Wesley.” She waved a hand. “He went back to the café to keep an eye on things for me. He was actually on his way to the hardware store when he saw you push Sarah-Jane out of harm’s way, and, thankfully, stop the stroller before it hit the curb. That was some quick thinking on your part, by the way.”
“Wait.” Laurel was growing more confused by the second. “That was your brother?”
“Wesley, yes. I told you he was coming to visit.” Rae’s brow puckered. “Are you sure you’re okay, Laurel?”
Wesley was Wes? If that was the case, then, no, she wasn’t okay. Because, unbeknownst to him, Wes was Sarah-Jane’s father.
* * *
Wes Bishop needed purpose in his life, and since he’d retired from the navy two years ago, that purpose had been lacking. He wanted to help others, to serve—which was why he’d contracted with the Servant’s Heart relief organization to manage their shelter construction program in Iraq. From the moment his friend and former master chief, Eddie Perkins, had presented him with the opportunity, Wes had been all in. Yet when he agreed to come to Bliss, Texas, to visit his sister, Rae, before leaving, he never imagined he’d find his past. A past void of any kind of relationship with God. Yet even though they’d known each other for only one fleeting night that never should have happened, Laurel had left an indelible impression on his heart.
He pushed through the door of his sister’s café, still not quite believing what he’d just witnessed. Everything had been such a blur out on the street. The stroller, the car, the woman. Yet while he thought he recognized the voice, he hadn’t been certain until Laurel’s gray-green eyes collided with his. In that moment, his heart stopped as unwanted emotions washed over him. Excitement, regret... Yeah, he had enough regrets to choke a horse.
