He grinned. Whether she spread the news or not, he had a pretty good idea that the whole town knew. For the past three weeks, he hadn’t gone a day without spending as much time as possible with Destiny. And he only wanted to see her more.
He picked up the letter, got out of his truck and started toward the front door, but then heard Destiny call his name from behind him. Turning, he saw his future bride holding Mitch Gillespie’s baby girl in Mitch’s front yard across the street. Mitch, one of his fellow baseball players and a friend since high school, was in his driveway helping his two-year-old, Dee, ride a tricycle while Destiny held baby Emmie.
“Hey, buddy,” Mitch called, “your girlfriend offered to hold Emmie while I help Dee stay on the bike.”
The two-year-old, seeing she was included in the conversation, stopped moving the pedals completely and widened her eyes at Troy. “I falled off.” She stuck out her lower lip and pointed to a scrape on her left knee.
“Aw, bless your heart.” Troy neared the little girl. “You didn’t want a bandage on it?”
She had two tiny red pigtails, and they bounced with the shake of her head. “No, Daddy kiss it, and Dessi kiss it, too.”
“I’m Dessi, by the way.” Destiny smiled, shifting her weight from hip to hip while gently bouncing Mitch’s newest bundle of joy. Mitch had lost his wife to breast cancer shortly after Emmie’s birth, and now he was raising a two-year-old and a six-month-old on his own. But Mitch had started to smile a little again, moving past the mourning period and learning to enjoy the two beautiful reminders of his beloved Jana. However, it wasn’t Mitch’s smile that Troy noticed now; it was Destiny’s.
She nuzzled Emmie’s crop of downy strawberry fuzz and grinned when the baby tried to gnaw on her cheek in an attempted kiss. “I think she likes me,” Destiny said.
Mitch agreed. “That’s a definite.”
Troy watched the woman he loved hold the baby girl and imagined another baby in her arms. Their baby.
“Hungry, Daddy.” Dee stretched one foot to the ground and tried to climb off the tricycle.
“Looks like playtime is turning into snack time now. Thanks for helping me out, Destiny.” Mitch helped Dee off the tricycle and then walked toward Destiny and reached for Emmie. “You’re a real natural,” he said, then he grinned at Troy as though he knew exactly what Troy was thinking.
Troy smiled back, quietly acknowledging that he thought she was a “natural,” too.
“I’m across the street if you need any help with them again,” Destiny said, as Mitch started toward his house. “Anytime, really,” she added.
“I appreciate that.” Mitch slowed at the stairs, while Dee, playing Miss Independent, waved off his assistance and climbed them on her own, her little hands grasping the rails as she wobbled up.
Troy and Destiny watched until the trio disappeared into the house, then Destiny sighed. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they are.” But as beautiful as Dee and Emmie were, the woman standing next to him was even more beautiful in Troy’s eyes. And tonight, he’d ask her to be his bride. He simply had to wait for the right moment.
“What’s that?” she asked, eyeing the envelope he held in his hand.
Troy meant to fold it and put it in his pocket, but in his haste to see her, he’d forgotten. “It’s a letter.”
“Oh,” she whispered.
“It’s for you, but I’d planned on giving it to you later.” He noted her anxious expression, like a kid who could see the presents under the tree but knew she had to wait however many days necessary until opening them at Christmas. “Here, you can hold on to it, but don’t open it until I tell you to, okay?”
Her attention went to her own name, written on the outside of the envelope, and then she slowly reached for it.
“Don’t worry,” he said softly, “it’s a good letter. I promise.”
Destiny took the envelope, then looked up, a misty sheen coating her eyes. “You’re sure it’s for me?”
“Has your name on it, doesn’t it?” he asked jokingly. The way she held the envelope, as though it were a priceless treasure, touched his heart. If she knew the depth of the words he’d written inside, or the fact that he’d written countless other letters for her, she’d realize that it was as much of a treasure as Troy had to give. His love, from now until eternity.
She again stared at the envelope. “I don’t have my purse with me. Is it okay if I fold it and put it in my pocket?”
He smiled. “Sure.”
She carefully folded the envelope in half and then slid it into her front pocket.
“You want to walk to the square?” He held out a hand, and she slipped hers inside, her soft, warm palm finding its place perfectly within his.
“Yes, I do.”
Troy inwardly celebrated her choice of words and wondered how long he’d have to wait until he heard them again...in a church, in front of all of their family and friends.
As they walked, she leaned against him and sighed. “I love it here.”
He kissed the top of her head, smiled against her silky hair and thanked God that she indeed loved it here and prayed that she would hopefully want to stay here, with him, forever. “I’m glad.”
An afternoon rain shower, typical for midsummer, had left the flowers and trees along Maple Street glistening and resulted in a soothing afternoon breeze that carried the scent of magnolias. Claremont was always beautiful, but it seemed to shine a little brighter today, creating a perfect setting for a proposal. He visualized himself on one knee by the three-tiered fountain in the square, the water’s mist kissing their faces as Destiny said she’d live here forever as his wife.
He could hardly wait.
When they reached the square, however, he saw the area around the fountain filled with people, couples sitting on the wrought-iron benches feeding the geese, teens playing Frisbee and kids flying kites. He scanned for another private area where they could talk, but the place was almost as crowded as First Friday. Then again, the rain they’d had earlier had produced the type of weather for enjoying the square, so he understood everyone’s reason for being here. But it sure blew the intimate setting he’d planned out of the water.
He considered suggesting they go back to the B and B and then drive to Hydrangea Park. One of the white gazebos at the park would make a nice location for a proposal, or even the botanical garden area beside the heart-shaped pond. But he knew several baseball teams played out there during the week, and undoubtedly people who didn’t find their way to the square on this beautiful day would probably find their way to the park.
“Troy,” Destiny said, as they neared the Sweet Stop.
He’d been so wrapped up in trying to figure out where he could propose that he hadn’t said a word while they walked to the square. “Yes?”
“I—I need to talk to you about something, tell you something.” The worry in her voice bothered him, and he wondered if she was thinking about going back to Atlanta. He didn’t want her to even consider it, if she would be willing to live here from now on. From the way Troy saw it, she could write anywhere, especially since she was her own boss. He’d even noticed the Claremont News looking for a reporter and had planned to suggest she apply for that job, if she thought she had to have a regular nine-to-five type position. But Troy didn’t see a real reason for that. If she wanted to keep pursuing her dream of becoming published, she could. He didn’t make a ton of money, but he made enough, and he’d support her completely if she wanted to go for her dream, or if she simply wanted to stay home and raise their children.
He couldn’t wait to have children with Destiny.
“Troy?” she repeated, and he realized he hadn’t answered.
“You can talk to me about anything,” he said, “always. But before you tell me whatever you’ve got
to tell me, I’ve got something I want to talk to you about first. It’s just that I’m thinking I want to—discuss it somewhere else.” The sidewalk in front of the candy store, where an abundance of people were sitting around eating ice cream, wasn’t exactly what he had planned for the place he asked her to be his wife.
“O-kay,” she said, but her upper teeth grazed her lower lip, and she couldn’t disguise her worry.
He figured this had to do with her leaving Claremont, but he also assumed that her apprehension would disappear when she learned he wanted to get married and that he didn’t want to wait. Then she could simply stay here. He’d marry her tomorrow if she’d be okay with that. “We’ll talk before the night’s over,” he promised, “but I want to wait until we can have a little more privacy, okay?”
“Okay.” She seemed a little more at ease as they moved toward his grandparents’ store.
The front door of Bowers’ Sporting Goods swung open as they neared, and Troy’s grandmother hopped out to greet them.
“Hey! I thought that was you I saw through the crowd. This pretty day has everyone out and shopping. Isn’t it great? Don’t you just love it here, Destiny?” Ever since she’d realized that Destiny was more than a one-date kind of girl for Troy, she’d laid on the Claremont talk rather thick, but Troy didn’t mind. He’d been doing the same thing.
“I do love it here,” Destiny said, but for some reason, Troy thought he heard another hint of sadness in her tone, probably because she didn’t want to leave. But he was glad for that. He wanted her to stay, too.
“That’s great,” his grandmother said. “And I’m glad I spotted y’all. David Presley is having a sidewalk sale at A Likely Story. I thought we could walk over and check out all of the great deals on the books, and while we’re there we can talk to him about promoting your novels one day.”
Troy grinned. Destiny had attempted to tell his grandmother several times over the past few weeks that she hadn’t actually written a novel yet, but that didn’t stop Jolaine Bowers from trying to promote the future―and as of yet nonexistent―books. Destiny seemed to understand that it made his grandmother feel good to help, and she didn’t repeat the fact that there were no novels to sell.
“I’d love to meet him. I’ve seen him at church a few times, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to him yet.”
“Wonderful. You can talk to him now.” Troy’s grandmother yanked the door open to their store and yelled in, “James, I’ll be back in a little bit. I’m going to introduce Destiny to David Presley!” She waited for his response telling them to have fun and then shut the door. “Okay, we’re all set.” She clapped her hands together and led the way, weaving through the crowd as they progressed along the sidewalk toward the bookstore.
A huge white sign with Sidewalk Sale in bright blue letters covered the brick wall beside the bookstore. Assorted shelves on rollers filled the sidewalk in front of the place, and Claremont shoppers were everywhere. The majority of the books were used, with the prices on the sale racks ranging anywhere from a quarter to a dollar. Troy wasn’t sure how David Presley made a living from the place he’d inherited from his grandmother, but he always had a smile for his customers and seemed to be doing okay.
“Here you go, Zeb.” David handed a plastic bag filled with books to one of the oldest men in the county, Zeb Shackleford.
Zeb took the bag and attempted to give David a few dollars, but the bookstore owner shook his head. “No, sir. I know you let the shut-ins and the nursing home patients keep the books after you read to them. There’s no way I’m gonna charge you. Your smile is payment enough for me.”
Troy grinned, falling more and more in love with Claremont and the people that lived here each day. It seemed he was always learning something new, and positive, about his neighbors. Now was no exception. He was glad Destiny also seemed fixated on the conversation between the two men.
“That David, he’s a nice young man, isn’t he?” Troy’s grandmother had obviously also witnessed David’s gift to old Zeb.
“Yes, he is,” Troy agreed. “And I bet he’ll be happy to promote Destiny’s books one day.”
“I know!” She giddily clapped her hands together while Destiny shook her head at Troy.
“You’re terrible, getting her hopes up like that,” she whispered.
“Who says you won’t have a book in his store one day? I’m simply preparing the way for when you do.” He squeezed her hand and liked the way her eyes lit up at the mention of her publishing a novel. As much as she claimed she didn’t have one in the works, he’d suspected from their talks over the weeks that her bucket list included penning a book. He’d already started praying that her dream would become a reality; not just that dream but all of her dreams.
Troy’s grandmother waited for David and Zeb to finish talking, then she tapped the bookstore owner’s shoulder. “David, I want to introduce you to Destiny Porter.”
He turned and extended a hand. “Hello, Destiny. I believe I’ve seen you at church with Troy. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“You, too,” she said, shaking his hand.
“How’ve things been going, Troy?” he asked, but before Troy could answer, his grandmother jumped back in.
“Destiny is a writer from Atlanta. She’s probably going to have a book you can sell here someday, and so I told her you’d let her have a book signing here when she’s ready.”
“I am a writer, but I haven’t actually written a full-length book yet. I write articles, mostly,” Destiny explained.
David grinned. “Well, when you get a book ready, I’ll be glad to set up a signing.” He released her hand and squinted at her for a moment. “Did you say your last name is Porter?”
Destiny nodded. “Yes. Do you know some Porters?”
“No, but...” His eyes widened. “Wait a minute. You’re Destiny Porter, from Atlanta. I remember now why your name sounded familiar. You started that online magazine, Southern Love, right?” His smile stretched and he nodded. “Yes, that’s it. You’ve really got a knack at writing. I’ve especially enjoyed the love-letter segment. Looking forward to when you reveal the winner’s letters next week. I advertised the contest in my store, but I don’t suppose anyone from Claremont entered.”
Troy and Destiny had discussed her digital magazine a few times over the past few weeks, and she’d told him in detail about the blog entries she’d put out while she’d been in town, the ones about couples from Claremont. But he hadn’t heard anything about a love-letter segment, or the fact that she’d had some type of contest. Why wouldn’t she have mentioned that, too, if it was as big of a deal as David seemed to think?
“I’m glad you like it,” she said softly, her eyes fixed on David and refusing to look at Troy.
“That’s your magazine?” Troy’s grandmother’s surprise seemed even more intense than David’s had been. “So you’re the one I sent those letters to?”
Destiny’s mouth flattened, her eyes watered, and a flush of red crept up her cheeks. “They actually went to my managing editor, but I did see them,” she admitted, her voice so quiet Troy could barely hear.
But he did hear, and he wanted some answers. However, his grandmother wasn’t finished yet.
“She told me that you wouldn’t print them. She mailed them back to me, and I already put them back―” her eyes darted to Troy “―back where they belong. She promised you wouldn’t print them. You don’t have his permission, so you can’t. That’s what she said.”
“Whose permission?” Troy asked, his voice as raspy and raw as his insides felt right now, because the pieces were falling into place, and he didn’t like where they were landing at all. His mind recalled that day he’d found his grandmother going through the boxes in his garage. “What letters did you send in?” He tried to control the anger making his words snap, but he could tell by the way
his grandmother’s lip trembled that she’d done...exactly what he feared.
“They promised they wouldn’t publish them,” she whispered.
“And we didn’t,” Destiny said, finally looking at Troy while tears filled her eyes. “We didn’t have your permission, so we couldn’t publish them.”
“I sent your letters in, Troy. Just a few of them, because I knew no one had written love letters the way you had, and I thought they’d probably win the contest. The winner gets a thousand dollars, and I was going to give you the money, but I didn’t think about needing your permission if I won. And then I realized that you wouldn’t have wanted me sending them, because they’re private. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Her head shook and her voice trembled. “I was wrong, and so I asked to get them back. And I did get them back and put them where I found them.”
“Troy’s the one you’ve been talking about in your blog?” David questioned, then snapped his mouth shut when Destiny gasped.
“You’ve been blogging about me?” He didn’t attempt to disguise his anger now, and the crowd shopping around them all stopped to see the show. Destiny had been telling him about her blog because they both knew he wasn’t a “surfing the web” kind of guy. He hadn’t taken the time to search out her blog because he’d assumed she told him what was in it. All of those discussions about the stories she’d written each day, and none of them even hinted that she was also writing about Troy. “Since when, Destiny? And tell me something—when were you going to tell me that you’d read those letters? Or that you planned on printing them―” he remembered David’s words “―next week?”
“I wasn’t going to.” She shook her head. “I promise. I still didn’t know what I was going to put in the issue, but I wasn’t going to print the letters. Believe me, Troy, we really did mail them back.”
“We? Just how many people have seen them?” Troy’s pulse pounded so hard his temples throbbed.
Bride Wanted Page 15
