Rich in Hope (Richness in Faith Trilogy Book 2)

by Lindi Peterson

  Roger and Celine are next in line to give us congratulations.

  “Like Ann said, I’m not sure what’s going on, but I do believe you are really getting married, right?” Roger’s expression screams confusion. Celine looks perplexed as well.

  “Rog,” Stephen says. “It’s a long story, one I’ll tell you later, but yes, Jenny and I are engaged. Really engaged.”

  “As opposed to a staged engagement? Why would you stage an engagement?” Roger asks.

  Time to rescue Stephen from the preacher, even if it is his uncle. “It’s my fault, and I apologize. I was trying to help Stephen out of a mess with his boss, and it escalated into this crazy scenario I never in a million years envisioned.”

  Celine, breathtaking in a coral-colored dress, gives me a hug. “Maybe you’re a prophet. Welcome. You’ll love being a part of this family.”

  I can’t believe tears are threatening. I blink and swallow trying to keep them at bay. This lie has been emotionally draining.

  Who knew the truth would be so wonderful.

  The girl who has been playing the flute announces the buffet dinner is now ready.

  Stephen grabs Phoebe’s hand. “You hungry?”

  She’s all smiles as she answers. “Yes.”

  Ann and Brett go through the line first, and Stephen and I, along with Phoebe, take a place in line. People are congratulating us and I feel truly happy. I still am having a hard time taking the real engagement in. I keep looking at the ring. It hasn’t been on my finger long, but I’ve done my share of gawking at it these last few days.

  I see it now in a whole different light.

  I don’t even see it as mine.

  I see it as ours, a beginning of a life I thought I would never have. Stephen doesn’t care about my scar, he doesn’t care that I’m not a model anymore.

  “I love seeing that smile on your face,” he says. “Just makes you that much more beautiful.”

  I’m not beautiful anymore.

  That’s what I think. That’s not what Stephen thinks.

  But he sees beauty in a different way than I do. I love how he loves life, how he embraces all things. How he wants to protect what needs protecting.

  He has a real sense of duty.

  A sense of love.

  A sense of how to kiss amazingly.

  I can’t wait for more of his kisses. I almost hyperventilate thinking what comes after those kisses.

  Think about the food. The delicious looking food that is right in front of me.

  Stephen hands me a plate and fixes one for Phoebe, although this wedding food isn’t her usual fare. I tell her the items, and she says yes or no.

  We take a seat at a table on the veranda, the cool air perfect for my hot thoughts. I barely taste the food I’m eating. A shame because I’m sure it’s expensive and very tasty.

  Phoebe’s mood has lightened since Stephen’s proposal.

  I’m still in a daze and seriously can’t keep my eyes away from the ring. I think it’s drawing me in because I can’t be drawn in by Stephen right now. I want to kiss him, tell him how happy I am and kiss him again.

  When I do look his way, I catch him looking at me.

  These looks we are exchanging have me wishing we weren’t around a lot of people. They also have me looking forward to our alone time tonight.

  I KICK OFF MY pumps as I tuck the covers around Phoebe. Although I have been relishing our story time, tonight I want to see how my own real-life story is going to play out.

  But, I squelch my enthusiasm and sit with Phoebe. We still haven’t told her that her mom is coming home on Christmas Eve day. Stephen says until he receives the final word, he refuses to bring her hopes up.

  Again, Stephen the protector.

  I wiggle my toes, free of my shoes.

  “I think you’re smiling a lot, Miss Jenny,” Phoebe says.

  “I am.”

  “Mr. Stephen makes you happy, doesn’t he?”

  My heart goes to its happy place just thinking about him. “He does.”

  “I’m glad. Prince Jonah is going to make Princess Bea happy, isn’t he?”

  Okay, time to switch from Stephen mode to princess mode. “He is. But he has some things to take care of first, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes. But he has the necklace that is going to break the curse,” Phoebe reminds me.

  “He does.” I tuck her hair behind her ears. “I think Prince Jonah is going to follow Princess Bea’s father when he leaves the music room. He’s going to show him the necklace he wants to give to Princess Bea.”

  Phoebe claps. “Is the king going to let the prince give it to her?”

  “The king is going to see that the necklace is worth a lot of money, which makes the king very interested as to why the prince is there.”

  “Why doesn’t Prince Jonah tell the king he wants to marry Princess Bea?”

  I tap her on the nose. “The letter?”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot. So does he show the king the letter?”

  “He is about to pull the letter out of his pocket when Princess Bea comes into the room.”

  “She does? Why?” Phoebe’s voice is breathy, showing her excitement.

  “She came to tell her father about the prince because she thought he left.”

  Hugging her blanket, Phoebe yawns. “What was she going to tell her father?”

  “She was going to ask her father if he knew Prince Jonah.”

  “And he was there. She’s busted!”

  I laugh at her exuberance. “She was busted.”

  “So what does she do?”

  “We’ll figure that out tomorrow night.”

  “Okay. I’m really tired. The wedding ended up being fun.”

  The wedding ended up being amazing.

  Glancing down at my engagement ring I realize what an incredible turn my life has taken. We haven’t even discussed the simplest of things, like where we are going to live. From what I know he’s traveling most of the time. I wouldn’t mind traveling some, but I want to see SunKissed! come to life. I know my designs are good. Ann proved that today.

  I give Phoebe a kiss on her forehead. “Good night. Sleep well. We have a big day tomorrow.”

  “I’m still going to the caroling party?” she asks.

  “Of course.” I wonder why she doesn’t seem to want to go to the party she was so excited about when she received the invitation.

  It’s probably her nerves, I decide as I pick up my pumps. I know how she feels. As much as I can’t wait to see Stephen, I feel the butterflies in my stomach come to life.

  Like the one that landed on the gazebo that day.

  Like the one that Stephen’s mother saw.

  I bet the ones in my stomach are blue, too.

  TENTATIVELY I WALK from the study to the kitchen, anticipation bubbling to the surface at seeing my fiancé. When I boarded the plane that cold, dark December night, I had no clue what was in store for me when I walked out of the airport, hailed the cab and walked up the driveway of this seemingly sleepy house in Hampton Cove, Florida.

  Life has been a whirlwind of the best kind since I stepped through that door.

  It hasn’t always felt like the best kind, but it is.

  As I step into the kitchen from the back hall, Stephen steps into the kitchen from the front hall. We both stop, our gazes connect. Heat spreads through my body.

  I drop my shoes, the sound of them hitting the floor muffled by the beating of my heart.

  He’s in front of me in an instant, my arms wrap around him in a second, and our lips touch for eternity.

  Because I will never forget the wonder of his lips on mine.

  Whatever happens on this crazy journey of ours, his kisses will never fade from my memory.

  As my arms are wrapped around his waist, his hands cup the sides of my face, his fingers digging into my hair.

  As amazing as his kisses are, I want more.

  Letting go of his waist, I run my palms up his chest, hi
s shirt a soft barrier. My fingers fumble momentarily, but finally connect to the top button. Within a matter of seconds I have two buttons undone. Button number three pops loose when his kisses stop.

  “Cheetah,” he rasps, grabbing my hands.

  Desire tumbles through my body. He can’t possibly know how much I need his touch. I weave my fingers through his.

  I kiss him gently on the lips.

  The kiss ends quickly.

  “I not only love you, I love kissing you.” He wraps his arms around me.

  I love the feeling. It’s a safe, sexy place I never want to leave. I’m not sure if he’s being coy or he’s nervous, but he seems hesitant to leave this brightly lit kitchen. “You were kidding when you said we wouldn’t be together until we’re married, weren’t you?”

  His sudden intake of breath doesn’t escape my notice, and I’m not sure if my words or my lightly brushed kisses on his shoulder are the cause.

  Slowly, he takes a couple of steps back, his deep blue eyes conveying a confused look.

  Or maybe tortured is a more appropriate word.

  Either way, I’m left feeling like a panting deer looking for the nearest stream to quench its thirst.

  “I was serious. I think we need to revisit our boundaries talk.”

  I search his face for the coming smile because I know he’s joking. He can’t be serious. The same stern expression remains.

  “But we’re engaged now.” I smile at him.

  He leans back against the counter, shoving his hands in his pockets. “All the more reason to set boundaries. Until the wedding, that is.”

  Now his amazing smile graces his face, which leaves me perplexed. “Is it because of God? Because I think God understands that we are in love.”

  Downcast eyes and a straight-line grimace make me wonder what’s going on inside his mind. I’ve never been met with such resistance.

  And he says he loves me?

  As if I will it, his gaze rises, connecting with mine. My soul blossoms with the knowledge that this man is mine. That he’s declared his love for me in a way that’s bold and true.

  The moment intensifies and when he does speak I know it’s not fly-off-the-handle type of talk.

  It’s from knowing who he is and what he wants.

  “God fully understands that we are in love. But showing our love for one another has perfect timing where God is concerned. After we say our vows in front of God, we’ll be together in all things, with Him and through Him.”

  Trying to process his declaration of love, and postponing the act of love has my head reeling. My body, too. “This is so foreign to me. I mean, I know right and wrong, and sure we all try, but I’ve never met anyone who has tried this hard to do the right thing, if you know what I mean. The Godly thing.”

  He breaches the distance between us, placing his hands on my shoulders. There is still a physical connection between us, but instead of it being like lightning bolts slashing around us at full speed, it’s now more like a slow electric current, with a lot of spark, but a destination in mind.

  My body still buzzes with his presence. His nearness.

  But I no longer feel in attack mode.

  I think he’s safe with me.

  For a little while, anyway.

  “Before you go thinking I’m something I’m not, I need to add to my explanation.”

  I’m not sure how much more my brain can handle, but I need to try. “Go ahead. Explain.”

  “Jesus is the only reason I have any self control. Let me set that part straight right away. But I have to admit there is another reason I’m determined to wait until we’re married.”

  His serious tone intensifies the already tense situation. He lowers his head, I’m thinking for a kiss.

  “Because if we’re married you can’t leave,” he says before tenderly kissing my earlobe.

  BLOSSOM

  NOW IT’S MY turn to tense and step back. “Leave? Why would I leave?”

  I can’t imagine what he is talking about. Does he have some hideous scar he’s hiding and he thinks it might scare me away? He’s too good of a kisser to be that bad at anything else physical.

  He frowns. “I can’t believe I’m spending the evening I become engaged talking about my past.”

  “I want to know everything about you. Why you are the way you are. Why you think the way you think. This is important to you, and it’s only natural that I would want to know why.”

  “Let’s sit on the couch.” He takes my hand.

  After he plugs in the Christmas tree lights, we settle on the couch, sitting close to each other, hands clasped. I’ve draped my legs over his and I know I’ll never tire of being this close to him.

  The colored lights on the tree blink into the otherwise dark room that surrounds us.

  “There was a girl once. Her name was Leah.”

  Arrows shoot through my chest proving I was unprepared for his statement. Leah.

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “It’s not a long story or detailed. Pretty simple, actually. We talked about forever, Leah and I. I hadn’t given her a ring or asked her to marry me, but it was understood. At least I thought it was. After many battles with my mind knowing what I should do, and my body knowing what it wanted to do, I lost the battle of my mind and we were together.”

  Okay, so it never entered my mind that he hadn’t been with other girls, but knowing that he has and apparently only one, I’m speechless at the jealousy running rampant through me. Why so much control around me and not around her?

  “And it was bad?” I know that question is lame, but something obviously happened.

  “No. Not bad. But let’s just say when the going got tough, she left.”

  “How tough?”

  He leans his head against the back of the couch, and closes his eyes for a moment. When they open, he leans over and kisses me on the nose. “Tough enough for her to want to leave. I’ll never have back what I gave to her. That’s not happening again. You and I?” He kisses me again on the nose. “Are forever.”

  “I like that.”

  “Remember the first day you came here? When you asked me to take that mirror out of the guest room?” His thumb caresses the top of my hand.

  “Yes.” I remember his body beautiful. And his muscles.

  “It was that day, in that room, at that time, that I knew I was going to marry you.”

  My mind rolls back to everything that has happened since then. “How could you know that?”

  He shakes his head. “I wish I could tell you, but the feeling was strong. Strong and clear. I felt like it could only come from God.”

  I faintly remember that crazy feeling that came over me that morning. But I had no idea I was going to marry Stephen.

  I’m going to crack open that Bible in the room I’m staying in and see what about it has captured his heart.

  Because, although some would say it’s too good to be true, I want what he has. What makes him strong.

  What makes him the man I love.

  PHOEBE AND I ARE both in an apprehensive mood as Saturday afternoon rolls around.

  Sleep evaded me last night.

  After cuddling in Stephen’s arms for what seemed like an instant but was really a couple of hours, we parted ways, much to my dismay and confusion.

  I hit the bed with determination and the Bible. I flipped pages and read some verses. I remember one of my mom’s friends saying once if you wanted to read the Bible you should start with the book of John. Which I did.

  But as I read the words, some of them didn’t make any sense to me. Parts of it actually caused me more confusion than comfort. I would nod off, then try to sleep.

  I dozed fitfully at best, and at six o’clock this morning I made a cup of coffee and went back at it.

  Jesus was definitely a good guy.

  The woman at the well story triggered memories of vacation Bible school. But reading as an adult gave it a new perspective, one that settled in my heart.
I felt strangely compelled to quit reading there. A somewhat pensive, thought-provoking mood overtook me. Almost brought me to tears.

  Now I’m apprehensive as to what that is all about. Maybe I’ll share it with Stephen later tonight.

  I’m not sure.

  Right now we are in the car on the way to Phoebe’s caroling party. A party which seems to have just recently caused Phoebe some concern.

  But she won’t say why.

  Stephen and I are looking forward to the caroling, something neither one of us has done in a long time.

  “We’re here, Phoebe.” I open my door.

  The three of us walk to the door, Phoebe carrying the small hostess gift we brought for Raney.

  I ring the doorbell of the huge, pretentious house. Massive wooden double doors wait to be opened.

  “These doors remind me of the doors of the palace Princess Bea lives in,” I say. “They are big and wooden.”

  “So this house is like a palace?” she asks.

  “Not quite, but close. But we’ll keep that information to ourselves.”

  Stephen squeezes my hand.

  “In other words, don’t say anything to anybody,” Phoebe says.

  Just like when I went to church, I’m wearing my hair pulled back in a ponytail, leaving my scar front and center for all to see. I don’t care if the world disses me because of it. I have Stephen and a new sense of confidence that comes with knowing I am loved by this man.

  One of the big doors is opened by a butler. I grab Phoebe’s hand. When we are inside the butler offers to take Phoebe’s sweater. She shrugs it off as I take in all the decorations in the foyer. There’s a Christmas tree that must be nine feet tall, decorated all in blues and silvers. Greenery lined with soft blue blinking bulbs twists its way up the curved staircase.

  “Follow me.” The butler leads us down a hall into an even more elaborately decorated living room.

  Ornate and exquisite are the only words I can use to describe the interior of this home. With the beautiful Christmas decorations gracing every available surface, I almost expect snow to start falling and Santa Claus to pop out of the huge fireplace.

  They must start decorating in July.

  More than likely they hire a crew who comes in and takes care of it in a couple of days.