by Beth Vogt
At the far end of the road, he caught sight of his destination. The two-story home, with its wraparound porch, stained-glass window panels, and abundance of gingerbread molding, stood big and white against the brilliant blue of the sky. The ornate wrought-iron fence surrounding the main yard only added to its charm.
Seeing it now, John was filled with a sense of coming home. He pulled the Harley into the drive. Almost immediately Verna appeared on the porch, a willowy woman with hair the color of champagne. When she raised her hand in greeting and he saw her broad smile, his fingers relaxed on the bike’s handlebar grips. He was home.
This time for good.
Hope saw the motorcycle sitting in front of the carriage house when she pulled into the driveway. Idly, she wondered who Verna was showing through the barn. Though her aunt hadn’t had any late afternoon appointments scheduled when Hope left for the bridal fair that morning, it wasn’t unusual for prospective clients to drop by without an appointment.
Despite Amity’s remarks looming over her like a dark cloud, Hope felt good about what she’d accomplished today. The booth had been worth every penny of the premium price they’d paid. Barn weddings were all the rage and her booth displayed a slideshow of their gleaming red barn with its arched roof and remodeled interior. A number of brides and their mothers had set up times to visit Harmony Creek.
After they’d torn down their booths, Amity had urged Hope to join her and some friends for dinner. But Hope was in no mood to socialize. Thankfully, Chet had called off their date for tonight. The man who would be his campaign manager had scheduled a meeting with business leaders about a possible State Senate run.
Just as well. Hope had too much on her mind, none of which she was ready to discuss with Amity or Chet.
What if I am still married to John?
Hope stepped from the car, closing her eyes against the sudden stab in her heart. She knew God wouldn’t give her more than she could bear.
It will be okay, she told herself. It will all be okay.
She entered the house, where she lived with her aunt, via the back door. Aunt Verna stood at the stove stirring a pot of soup and speaking with a man whose back was to Hope. He was tall and lanky, his wavy dark hair almost as long as hers. Hope had never seen her aunt cook in front of a potential client.
Obviously Verna knew this man and felt comfortable around him. Still, since her aunt seemed so determined to get dinner on the table, Hope would be a good niece and offer to show him around.
Before she could make the offer, the man turned. Her heart dropped to her toes. She didn’t know whether to laugh hysterically or cry. Not more than she could bear? God apparently had more faith in her than was warranted.
“Hello, Hope,” she heard John say. “It’s good to see you again.”
The story continues in Love at Mistletoe Inn by Cindy Kirk . . .
Beth K. Vogt believes God’s best is often behind the doors marked “Never.” She’s the wife of a former Air Force family physician who said she’d never marry a doctor—or anyone in the military. She’s a mom of four who said she’d never have kids. She’s a former nonfiction writer and editor who said she’d never write fiction. Beth’s novels include Wish You Were Here, Catch a Falling Star, and Somebody Like You.
Visit her website at www.bethvogt.com
Twitter: @bethvogt
Facebook: AuthorBethKVogt
