by Lois Richer
It was hard to even think about what Willie, in her own quiet way, was suggesting.
“You want me to offer to sign the prenuptial agreement he had drawn up before, don’t you? You think it will prove something to him.” Blair crossed her arms and sprawled back on the pew. “You want me to go into this marriage with nothing, no guarantees, no plans to protect my son?”
“Isn’t that how you were prepared to go into it before?” Willie’s bright eyes demanded an answer. “You said it was Gabe who wanted the guarantees. That you just wanted to love him. Now you have that chance. Grab it with both hands and stop worrying about what could happen.”
Blair reflected on the past weeks, how she’d tried to show Gabe how good she was, good at mothering, good at caring for her grandfather, good at caring for Albert when he needed it; and how bad he was for forcing her into this situation.
“Gabe’s just as scared as you, but with more reason. I believe he’s never known the love of a family, never been freely given anything. He thinks he has to buy in. That’s why the money’s so important. It’s his ticket to love.” Willie rose to her feet and snatched up her purse.
“I promised I’d meet a friend for coffee five minutes ago. I’ve got to go.” She hugged Blair in a tight, throat-clogging hug that told her niece how much she cared. “I want you to be happy, honey. Go into this marriage giving something that costs you dearly. Help Gabe understand that love can’t be bought or sold. And remember that, no matter what, Mac and I love you.”
“Thank you, Auntie.” Blair let her go with a watery smile. “Bye. Have a good visit. I’m going to sit here for a while.”
Willie hurried away, and Blair listened to the stairs creak as her aunt bustled downstairs. When all was silent, she let herself dwell on the idea.
Sign the prenuptial when he hadn’t even asked? Give up all of her rights, all of Daniel’s to help him believe in her love?
“I don’t think I can do it, God,” she whispered brokenly. “He owes me that, at least. Is it so wrong to want a little bit of security for my son? Anyway, for all I know, he isn’t going to ask me to do that again.”
The tears fell unchecked as she wrestled with it. Then her eyes caught sight of the scripture verse sprawled across the front of the church in bold, black letters.
My grace is sufficient for you.
Enough to forgive the times she’d ignored Gabe? Enough to forget the way he’d just let her leave seven years ago? Enough to cover her sarcastic, cutting retorts?
My grace is sufficient.
She could take it or leave it, believe what the Bible said or muddle things up trying to find her own answers. God had done His part. It didn’t say His grace was, but is sufficient. For everything. All the time. If she didn’t accept it, was that God’s fault?
A line from the pastor’s sermon rang around the room as if he’d just spoken it.
“How do you react upon learning that God would rather die than live without you? You can’t earn that kind of love.”
Blair felt the tears pouring down her face and knew that she’d been trying too hard. She wasn’t worthy of love. She never would be. But God loved her anyway. So did Mac and Willie and Daniel. It was time to accept that love and do something with it.
Heavy footsteps made the stairs to the balcony groan. Blair hurriedly dashed away her tears, but stayed where she was.
“Blair? Are you all right? Willie said you were up here thinking. Is it something I’ve done?” Gabe stood at the end of the pew, his big body partially bent as he tried to stand under the sloping roof. One hand reached out and a finger brushed across her cheek. “You’ve been crying,” he whispered in wonder.
“Just a little.” She clasped his hand in hers and tugged. “Can you sit down for a minute, Gabe? I need to say something.”
His face tightened, and little worry lines crisscrossed his forehead, but he sat, his fingers still cradled in hers.
“I have to say I’m sorry,” she began. It felt good to let go of that tight ball of anger.
“You’re sorry? For what?” He stared at her as if he didn’t recognize her.
“For nursing a grudge against you all these years. For making things hard for you ever since you’ve come.” She hung her head in shame. “For trying to embarrass you in front of Mac and Willie and Albert so that you’d be uncomfortable. For not telling you about Daniel.” The last words oozed out on a whisper of regret. “I stole those years from you, and I had no right to do that.”
He reared back, his eyes bubbling with emotion. “No right? You had every right! I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
She smiled at his one-upmanship. “Just let me finish.”
“Sorry.” He stared at their entwined fingers. “Go ahead.”
“I want what you do. I want Daniel to have a father and mother who care about him, who do everything they can to make his world happy.” Please, God, help me.
“What are you really saying, Blair?” Hope glimmered in the depths of his emerald eyes. His fingers tensed on hers.
She couldn’t do it—couldn’t say the words that would tell him how much she needed him. Something, some tiny reminder of the past, yanked her from the precipice of truth. What if he laughed? What if he left? She temporized.
“I’m saying that I will try as hard as I can to make this marriage work. I don’t know how things will work out, how we’ll manage everything, but I’ll do my best to make sure Daniel sees you in a positive light. I trust you, Gabe.”
Sometime during her little speech his eyes had moved to her face. As she spoke they seemed to dim a little, flicker, then cloud over, as if he was disappointed in what she’d said.
“That’s all I can hope for,” he murmured, dropping her hands. He shoved his into his jacket pockets. “I won’t abuse your trust, Blair. I promise I’ll do the right thing this time.”
He stood, staring at her. One hand reached out to touch her hair in a featherlight caress that sent a tiny shock to her heart. He seemed to want to say more, but couldn’t find the words. She thought he would kiss her, but then that fraction of a second was gone. At last he spoke.
“Are you ready to go?”
She nodded, gathered her things and trailed him down the stairs. “I have to stop at the florist’s to make sure everything’s under control. Could you pick up Daniel, then meet me at the grocery store?”
“Of course.” He stood in the foyer, staring at the sanctuary. “I never went to church regularly, you know. Only with you and because of you. I never thought I was the type who needed it.”
Blair waited, breath suspended. He was going to tell her something about himself, something important. She forced herself to stand perfectly still and wait.
“My mother died when I was five. I think my father must have loved her very much. But when God didn’t cure her, he sort of turned on the church and everyone in it. Mom made sure I went to Sunday school every week, but my father didn’t care if I never went. We started to move around a lot, and I didn’t know how to get to the church, so I stopped going. By the time I was old enough to go on my own, I didn’t see the need.”
He’d said my father. Not dad or my dad. The rock solid steadiness of his voice and the rigid line of his jaw told Blair how much he’d kept to himself.
“I think he was upset that God hadn’t taken me and left her.”
Blair sucked in a breath of dismay at the horrible words, but she didn’t interrupt. He needed to get this out. Somehow she sensed that this festering sore was best treated in the healing light of the present, just as she’d had to face her own hidden anger.
“I was never the kind of son he wanted, you see. I was lousy at his favorite game, basketball. I had no head for baseball statistics, and I was too gawky and introspective to be put on show. I liked books. He hated reading anything but the sports page. I was too curious. I messed things up, and he had to pay to get them fixed.” His eyes were almost blank, staring at her as he related his past with deta
chment.
“What kind of things, Gabe?” She tried to draw him out.
“What? Oh, toasters, his calculator, the radio and television. He sent me to my room for a day for that.” Gabe smiled a cold, hard little smile that didn’t reach the ice in his eyes. “He did me a favor by doing that. I spent those hours reading up on all kinds of stuff. I guess I was a little too old for my age.”
Blair nodded. She knew from their discussions in the past that his IQ was very high. She could imagine how little that endeared him to a man who thought sports was the be-all and end-all.
“He said I needed to learn responsibility, that I’d been babied. I got a paper route and squirreled every dime away. Finally I had enough to get an old, used computer when I was in eighth grade. A teacher at school lent me some parts, and I built Fred.”
“I didn’t know that.” Blair stared at him. “The same Fred you have now?”
He grinned, life surging into his eyes. “Well, not exactly the same Fred. I’ve changed almost everything inside him about a hundred times, but he’s still Fred. He was my playmate, my best friend when we moved too often for me to have friends.” He frowned at her. “I don’t know how I got started on this. I was talking about Sunday school, wasn’t I?”
She nodded, disappointed that he’d closed the door to his past.
“Anyway, last year I got caught behind a car accident. I had to wait until someone could come and tow my car and, since there was a church across the road, I decided to go in and listen to the singing. They had this choir….” He closed his eyes as if remembering that day.
“You always did love music,” Blair murmured, loath to break into his happy thoughts.
“Yeah. Well, anyway, they had more than good music there. They had a speaker who made sense of the Bible and God. I finally understood what my mother had taught me all those years before. We got to be friends, Jake Prescott and I. He needed some tech support, and I offered to help.”
“He got the president of the company to fix his computer?” Blair blinked. “But you always hated that aspect, the one-on-one.”
“This wasn’t like that. It was more like two pals. Jake would toss in a comment about a computer being like God with all His intricacies. I guess you had to be there.” He shrugged, his cheeks flushing a dark red.
“Anyway, he got me thinking about how I was living my life. He made it sound as if I was as much a pleasure seeker as my dad. I hated that, so I started to rethink things. I came to the decision that I needed to make God the center of my life. I just wanted you to know that we’re on the same wavelength. I’m not exactly the same as I was. I’m not pretending Christianity anymore, Blair. It’s the real thing now.”
She looped her arm through his, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you for telling me that,” she whispered as she choked back tears. “It’s important to me to know that we’re on the same team. I know Mac will be glad when I tell him.”
“I’ve already done that. Your beliefs echo his. I didn’t want him to think I’d try to alter that.” He looked at her searchingly, his thoughts masked from her. Only the tiny quaver in his voice gave away his uncertainty. “Do you really think we can make this marriage work?”
She wasn’t sure at all. But Gabe needed her. She knew it. “If we go in determined to make it work and rely on God’s help, I know we can manage.” She held her breath when his arm slipped around her waist. “Gabe?”
“I think this is the perfect place to make that pledge,” he whispered as his mouth moved nearer. “I promise I won’t do anything to make you regret marrying me, Blair. You can trust me.”
“I do,” she whispered, just before his lips touched hers. Then she gave herself up to the gentle reassurance of his kiss, shoving away the niggling voice that prodded, Do you?
Really?
Chapter Six
May seventh, his wedding day. Gabe stared as Jake Prescott, his best man, fraternized with the assembled crowd of townspeople. He shook his head in disbelief.
“I thought Teal’s Crossing had a population of five hundred,” he whispered to Blair. Her light scent caught on the breeze and carried straight to his nostrils, teasing him with the delicate fragrance of flowers mixed with something spicy. He didn’t know what it was, but he liked it.
“It does. But the community is more than the town. Does that bother you?” Blair stood in front of him posing for the picture, her head tilted back. She smiled, and her whole face glowed with the warmth of the sun. And maybe something else. Maybe—happiness?
He thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “I couldn’t care less how many people are here,” he told her honestly. “I know they came to see what kind of an outsider you’re marrying, what kind of a father Daniel’s getting. They’re your friends, they naturally want to check me out.”
He listened to the photographer’s request, then twisted his arms around her waist, clasping them together under hers, which still held her bouquet. In a bold move, he bent his head and pressed a featherlight kiss to her shoulder. This was the first time he dared such an intimacy, only because he could pretend to her that the photographer was the reason.
“Thank you, Blair,” he whispered, resting his chin against the tulle of her wedding veil. He was totally awed by the fact that this gorgeous woman was his wife. Their relationship wasn’t exactly the way he wanted it. Underneath her assurances, he knew that she still mistrusted him, still checked to be sure he meant what he said. She still wouldn’t let herself need him.
But it was changing. Little by little Blair was getting used to him in her life again.
“For what?” A glossy tendril brushed against his forehead, teasing him.
“For marrying me. For helping me with Daniel. For everything.” He felt a surge of something warm and protective well inside. It wasn’t love, he knew that. But it was still a good feeling.
“You’re welcome.” The whisper barely carried on the breeze. “Here he comes again.”
Gabe stayed exactly where he was as Daniel raced up to them, jerked to a stop and held out the cushion that had carried their wedding bands earlier that afternoon. He looked so cute in his little black tuxedo, vest and bow tie that Gabe couldn’t stop his proud fatherly smile. It widened even more when Daniel spoke to him.
“Hey, Dad, can I get rid of this? I’m tired of hauling it around.” He thrust the creamy satin cushion toward them, his dark eyes sparkling. “What do you think, Dad?”
Daniel took every opportunity to use the term Dad, often repeating it to himself before he fell asleep. It was as if he couldn’t believe God had answered his prayer.
Gabe looked over Blair’s shoulder at the little boy, and suddenly he knew exactly how Daniel felt. The truth dawned like a white-hot light searing his brain. This, right here, was everything he’d ever wanted. He was part of it. He felt a tender but fierce protectiveness surge through him. His arms tightened fractionally around Blair’s waist.
So he couldn’t feel love, so what? He’d give everything he had to make this work. He had to believe that it would be enough for Blair and for Daniel.
“Sure you can, son. Give the cushion to Mac. He’ll put it away till your mom has time to look after it.” Gabe reached out and tousled the stick-straight hair, then grinned as Daniel jerked away.
“How come you don’t have these pretty curls like your mother?” he asked, fingering one delicate strand as it lay against Blair’s neck. When she shifted just a bit, he let his arms fall away but kept her hand wrapped in his.
“That’s girl hair!” Daniel’s voice oozed disgust. “You ’n’ me are boys, Dad. We got boy hair.”
“You sure are.” Blair wiggled her hand out of Gabe’s, then reached down and straightened the bow tie. She smiled when it immediately tipped to the right. “Your father has the same problem as you.” She turned to face Gabe, her fingers plucking at his tie. “But just the same, you’re both very good-looking.”
He caught her fingers and held on, the whirring and
snap of the camera a faint buzz in the background.
“We’re not good-lookin’,” Daniel said, obviously disgusted by that assessment. “We’re han’some. Aren’t we, Dad?”
“You’re very handsome, son,” Gabe answered, tongue in cheek.
“Girls are good-looking, Mom. Not guys. Right, Dad?”
Daniel’s scathing voice drew Gabe’s attention from Blair. Which was probably a good thing. He had a feeling he’d been staring at his wife again. Lately he couldn’t seem to stop. She fascinated him. Her delicate but strong fingers, her tiny, efficient body, her quick brain.
“Hey, are we gonna get a girl for our family?”
Gabe straightened, his attention divided between Daniel and Blair as he considered the request. It was true, Blair didn’t immediately tell the boy no, but it was also apparent that she was uncomfortable with the question. He’d have to step in.
Gabe let go of her hand and knelt in front of this precious child, swiping back a hank of Daniel’s hair as he did.
“Nobody can know the future, son. We don’t know what’s going to happen. We just know that today is the first day for us to be a family. Let’s enjoy that, okay?”
“Okay.” Daniel grinned his half toothless smile and then raced away. He hurried back for just a moment. “I’m going to play with Joey Lancaster.” In a whirl of black he was gone, his muddy shoes testament to his lack of concern for the rented suit.
“Joey Lancaster?” Gabe got to his feet, his eyes searching Blair’s. “Isn’t he the kid Daniel didn’t like?”
“Was.” She walked beside him over the lush green grass and toward the church. “They’re best buds now that Daniel has a father, too.” The photographer stopped them beneath a late-blossoming apple tree.
“Oh.” Gabe digested that for a moment, amazed at the changes that had come into all their lives. He ignored the camera, though he heard it whirring madly behind them.
