Praise for the Christiansen Family Series
It Had to Be You
“It Had to Be You is a sigh-worthy, coming-into-her-own romance highlighting the importance of family, the necessity of faith, and how losing yourself for the right reasons can open your heart to something beautiful.”
SERENA CHASE, USA Today
“This character-driven tale with a beautiful love story . . . gives excellent spiritual insight and a gorgeously written look at what it means to surrender and let go.”
ROMANTIC TIMES
“Susan May Warren delivers another beautiful, hope-filled story of faith that makes the reader fall further in love with this captivating and intriguing family. . . . Powerful storytelling gripped me from beginning to end . . . [and] lovable characters ensure that the reader becomes invested in their lives.”
RADIANT LIT
“This is one author who is only getting better with each book, and I cannot wait to find out which character we are next invited to meet in this Christiansen family.”
FICTION ADDICT
“A gem of a story, threaded with truth and hope, laughter and romance. Susan May Warren brings the Christiansen family to life, as if they might be my family or yours, with her smooth writing and engaging storytelling.”
RACHEL HAUCK, bestselling author of The Wedding Dress
Take a Chance on Me
“Warren’s new series launch has it all: romance, suspense, and intrigue. It is sure to please her many fans and win her new readers, especially those who enjoy Terri Blackstock.”
LIBRARY JOURNAL
“Warren . . . has crafted an engaging tale of romance, rivalry, and the power of forgiveness.”
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
“Warren once again creates a compelling community full of vivid individuals whose anguish and dreams are so real and relatable, readers will long for every character to attain the freedom their hearts desire.”
BOOKLIST
“Take a Chance on Me is the first of six books in this new series from prolific author Susan May Warren—and I couldn’t be more excited! I’ve already fallen in love with the Christiansen family . . . and I can’t wait to see how Warren brings true and lasting love into the lives of Darek’s two brothers and three sisters.”
SERENA CHASE, USA Today
“A compelling story of forgiveness and redemption, Take a Chance on Me will have readers taking a chance on each beloved character!”
CBA RETAILERS + RESOURCES
“Warren’s latest is a touching tale of love discovered and the meaning of family.”
ROMANTIC TIMES
Visit Tyndale online at www.tyndale.com.
Visit Susan May Warren’s website at www.susanmaywarren.com.
TYNDALE and Tyndale’s quill logo are registered trademarks of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
When I Fall in Love
Copyright © 2014 by Susan May Warren. All rights reserved.
Cover photograph copyright © by Laura Doss/Corbis. All rights reserved.
Designed by Jennifer Phelps
Edited by Sarah Mason
Published in association with the literary agency of The Steve Laube Agency, 5025 N. Central Ave., #635, Phoenix, AZ 85012.
Scripture taken or paraphrased from the Holy Bible, New International Version,® NIV.® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com.
When I Fall in Love is a work of fiction. Where real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales appear, they are used fictitiously. All other elements of the novel are drawn from the author’s imagination.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Warren, Susan May, date.
When I fall in love / Susan May Warren.
pages cm. — (Christiansen Family)
ISBN 978-1-4143-7843-5 (sc)
1. Women cooks—Fiction. 2. Hockey players—Fiction. 3. Brothers and sisters—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3623.A865W44 2014
813'.6—dc23 2014004547
ISBN 978-1-4143-9617-0 (ePub); ISBN 978-1-4143-8463-4 (Kindle); ISBN 978-1-4143-9618-7 (Apple)
Build: 2014-09-12 14:57:07
For Your glory, Lord. Every day.
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
A Note from the Author
Preview of Evergreen
Preview of Always on My Mind
About the Author
Discussion Questions
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
EVERY STORY HAS A NUMBER OF “CHEFS,” and while I might be head chef, I have a crew of talented sous-chefs and assistants in the kitchen, dedicated to the creation of a great story.
My deepest gratitude goes out to the following people:
Aliya Rose Marxen—amazing chef and the brains behind all of Max’s and Grace’s culinary creations for the Honolulu Chop competition. Her ability to take ingredients and make them into something tasty will win her awards someday. Thank you for making me hungry and for showing me what it looks like to love food and create culinary masterpieces. You are the inspiration behind Grace Christiansen.
Sarah Warren—our family wedding enthusiast and inspiration for Eden’s wedding colors and venue. I’m so looking forward to watching you walk down the aisle for your own Memorial Day wedding!
David Warren—my in-house book doctor. Thank you for asking me the hard questions that help me put a plot together.
Noah and Peter Warren—my athletes and inspiration for Max the fun guy in Hawaii. “No, Peter—don’t touch that turtle. No, Pete, stop, stop!” Thank you for giving me the most terrifying moment of my life. At least I could use it in a book.
Andrew Warren—for cooking. You are Max, the master chef. I’m terribly spoiled.
Rachel Hauck—my brilliant writing partner. Oh, thank you for walking through every scene with me and making me think through every motivation, every action. Our daily conversations inspire me!
The My Book Therapy core team—Beth Vogt, Lisa Jordan, Reba J. Hoffman, Edie Melson, Melissa Tagg, Alena Tauriainen, Michelle Lim. Your daily prayers fueled me and kept me moving all the way to the end. I’m so blessed to have you in my life!
Steve Laube—my awesome agent, who always knows just what to say. I’m so thankful you’re on my team.
Karen Watson—for knowing just how to help me craft an amazing story. I’m so thankful for your partnership!
Sarah Mason—for the polish and craft you bring to the editing process. Your talent is fabulous.
My dearest Grace,
All parents, if they look closely at their children, see pieces of themselves. Their eyes, their smile, the shape of their nose. As a child grows older, parents see personality quirks, traces of the same humor, even evidence of similar decision making.
But you, Grace, are my clone. Not just seasoned with my personality traits or even saddled with my nose—you are as if God reached out of heaven and made a copy of myself to put in my arms.
Because of this, I know you probably better than my other children. I understand your fierce loyalty to your family, your so-called “simple” desire to settle in our
small town, be a wife, a mother, a homemaker. You were the child who made a party out of everything—from the cookouts you would have with your Barbies and Kens, to our Sunday afternoon football parties, to serving us cookies and hot cocoa in cold arenas as we watched your brothers play hockey. For you, every moment is cause for celebration of the ones you love.
But often I see you eating alone in the kitchen after you have served the event. As if afraid to step into the party.
Afraid to reach for all life has for you.
It is not that you are not courageous. Rather, it is the fear of reaching out to the unknown, unsure if, in doing so, you will fail. You are paralyzed by the knowledge that your regrets would overwhelm you. This, too, I understand, because it also comes from me. I dreamed of a life in Deep Haven, and I feared letting go of it, believing that if I didn’t hold tight, I would never have what I’d longed for. But God knows our hearts better than this. He knows our longings, as they are from Him, and He desires to satisfy us with more than we can ask for or imagine.
Oh, Grace, there is so much more waiting for you. Yes, it may be in Deep Haven, but you will never find it by holding on. The amazing, whole, overwhelming, abundant life is found, oddly, by letting go. By living a dangerous faith—the kind of faith that believes in a God who knows our hearts and loves us enough to take our breath away.
The urge, Daughter, to hold on to what you have, to allow fears to hold you captive and keep you from reaching for something else, is not easily overcome. In fact, the nudge to let go may feel like a rending, a tearing from yourself. But it must be done if you are to fall into the arms of your heavenly Father. And this is my prayer for you—that you will leap and fall in this safe place. That you will discover how much more awaits you, just beyond the boundaries of your life.
Reach out, Grace, and discover what you’ve been longing for.
Lovingly,
Your mother
IT WOULD BE the most perfect day of her brother Darek’s life. Even if Grace Christiansen had to personally hand-dip two hundred strawberries.
“If you don’t leave now, you’re going to miss the entire wedding.” Her assistant, Raina Beaumont, reached around Grace and moved the bowl of strawberries away from her. “I might not be going to culinary school in a month like you, but I swear I can dip these without making a mess.”
But—the word touched her lips a moment before Grace nodded and stepped away from the island in the middle of the industrial kitchen.
The afternoon sun creased the red tile floor and stewed the smells of the kitchen—wild mushrooms simmering in garlic-and-wine sauce, focaccia bread baking in the oven.
She could stand here, close her eyes, drink in the scents, and die happy. Something about seeing her brother—her wounded, broken oldest brother—smile at his beautiful bride-to-be last night at the rehearsal dinner had filled her soul right to the brim. Yes, of course she would dip strawberries and hang twinkly lights from the rafters of the folk school building. Because that’s what family did—they shared in dreams, even helped make them come true.
Raina pushed her toward the door. “Seriously, I’ll get Ty to chase you out of here or, better yet, throw you over his shoulder and—oh, for pete’s sake, you have chocolate on your dress.”
“What? Shoot, where’s a rag?”
But Raina had already grabbed a wet cloth and was dabbing at the dark stain on the collar of Grace’s purple dress.
Grace checked her reflection in the microwave door over Raina’s shoulder. Her hair had withstood the test of the kitchen, still caught up in netting. Eden’s spectacular idea of having her hair done before she set foot in the kitchen to oversee the final preparations might not have deserved the battle they’d waged. But she shouldn’t have worn the dress. Unfortunately, she’d managed that brilliant thought with no help from her big sister, and now she’d have a stained gown for the pictures. . . .
Pictures!
“Oh no.”
“I know. It’s leaving a greasy spot,” Raina said.
“I was supposed to be there an hour early for pictures.” Grace pushed Raina’s hands away. “Eden is going to murder me.”
“I thought this was Ivy and Darek’s wedding.” Ty looked up from where he stood at the stove, stirring the mushroom sauce. His hairnet looked silly over his dark, nearly shaved head, but no one took his job more seriously than Ty Teague, youngest offspring of the Teague clan. At seventeen, he could outcook any of the Pierre’s Pizza line cooks. And he was a starter on the Deep Haven Huskies football team, not unlike his legendary older brother, DJ.
“Ty, eyes on the sauce. And it is; it’s just . . . Eden is a little exacting. She has us all scheduled to the minute.”
Raina, while listening, had pushed End on the microwave panel, where she’d paused the timer.
Grace stared at the digital clock. “Oh . . . no. What time is it?”
Raina checked her watch. “About 3:20.”
“I thought it was 2:07. I’m an idiot—I thought it was weird the clock didn’t change. No, no—” She pulled off her apron, heading for the door.
“What?”
“The ceremony started at 3:00!” Grace banged through the door, then spun around and poked her head back into the kitchen. “Listen, fire up the grills at 3:30. Don’t turn them on high or they’ll smoke—just keep them on low. That way the chicken won’t burn. And cook the ravioli al dente. Otherwise it will sit in the sauce and—”
“Go!” Raina glanced at Ty, shaking her head.
“Don’t forget the cupcakes! They’re in the freezer—”
“Ty, we have a situation—”
“Fine.” Grace let the door close behind her and stood for a moment in the most perfect vision of a wedding reception she could imagine.
Her vision. Okay, Ivy’s too, but the elegantly rustic room had romance draped all over it. Grace and the rest of the Christiansen women had spent all day yesterday wrapping the timber beams with twinkle lights, covering the long picnic tables with white linens and birch bark–wrapped candles, surrounding the dance floor with potted cedars, also laden with white lights. They’d hung sheer drapes across the length of the room and dropped them behind the serving tables, which, in an hour, would be filled with Grace’s creations.
She’d spent a month putting together tonight’s menu of grilled lemon-rosemary chicken, wild-mushroom ravioli, parmesan-and-rosemary focaccia, wild-greens salad with buttermilk-Romano dressing, and chocolate-dipped strawberries. Thankfully, the local donut/cupcake shop, World’s Best Donuts, had provided the wedding cupcakes.
But the magic of the night would happen when Darek picked up his bride, Ivy Madison, and carried her into their celebration. No one could be happier for Darek and his new life than Grace. If he could find happily ever after without leaving Deep Haven, then so could she.
First, she had to get to the wedding.
Grace climbed into the family truck and gunned it out of the dirt parking lot of the folk school grounds. The building’s sliding-glass doors overlooked the gold-splashed harbor of Deep Haven. With otters frolicking around the docks and seagulls perched to watch the festivities, a sun-soaked breeze blowing off the lake, and the scent of summer in the air, this Sunday evening of Memorial Day weekend held the promise of a beautiful celebration.
She glanced at her phone where she’d left it on the seat of the truck. Five missed calls.
Shoot.
Grace shifted her gaze back to the road in time to slam on her brakes for a couple of tourists, one wearing a baby in a back carrier, crossing the main drag and waving the orange flag provided to alert drivers to pedestrians as they came over the hill.
Easing forward, she made the light, then turned left up the hill to the church. The parking lot was full, music playing as she parked and hustled in.
The sanctuary doors hung closed, an usher standing just inside as she cracked one open. One of Darek’s firefighter buddies from the National Forest Service. She gave him a sheepish look
as he quirked an eyebrow.
The overhead fans stirred the hushed air and she realized the music had ended and the pastor was praying. Good, maybe she’d arrived just after the processional. She ducked her head but shot a glance at the front, where Ivy and Darek held hands. Beside Ivy stood her matron of honor, Claire, petite and cute in her turquoise dress, holding Ivy’s bouquet of orange gerbera daisies.
Her heart could melt at the sight of Darek in his tuxedo, tall and handsome and healed and giving his heart away. Again. Or maybe fully, for the first time.
“Amen.” Pastor Dan lifted his eyes to the crowd, smiled at the couple. Grace looked for a place to scoot down the aisle and slip in at the end of her parents’ pew in front. Sure, a few people might notice, but it wasn’t as if she’d missed—
“I’d like to present, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Darek Christiansen.”
Darek looked up, smiled for the crowd, and met her eyes.
Oops.
She stepped out of the way as Ivy and Darek marched up the aisle. Then, before the ushers could open the sanctuary doors again to release the guests, she ducked out.
And caught the bride and groom in an after-ceremony smooch.
“Grace!” Darek said, releasing his bride. He had a grin in his eyes, and she credited Ivy for tempering his anger. “Where were you? We called and called. We finally had to rearrange our pictures—”
“I’m so sorry.” She grabbed Ivy’s hand, caught for a moment in the radiance of her new sister-in-law. Ivy wore a simple diamond necklace, a strapless taffeta gown, and with her red hair tucked up on her head, she looked like a fairy tale. “You’re gorgeous.”
“I know,” Darek said.
Ivy blushed. “We were worried. Are you okay?”
“I was dipping strawberries and lost track of time—I’m so sorry!”
“That’s okay.” Ivy leaned in and kissed Grace on the cheek. “I knew I could trust you with an amazing dinner.”
The guests had started to spill out of the sanctuary.
“I’m so sorry I missed the wedding—”
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