by Jill Lynn
Rachel snagged her bouquet bursting with brightly colored calla lilies from the table by the front door. It looked amazing against her white, A-line, sleeveless dress. She eased her hem to the side, drinking in the sight of her shoes. Bright, bold green peeked back at her. She’d done her hair in a low side twist, opting not to wear a veil but to tuck in a sprig of greenery, instead.
“You look beautiful.” Cash interrupted her love affair with her green satin, peep-toe pumps, and she found him looking at her with unguarded emotion that almost sent her free-falling down the same slippery slope.
“Thank you.”
“I’m sorry Dad’s not here.”
“Me, too.” Her eyes misted. “But I’m really glad you’re here.”
His creased cheeks spoke volumes. Of silent grief and the subsequent bond that flowed between them. “Me, too. Are you ready for this?”
“I am.”
“So you really like this guy, huh?”
That got a laugh out of her, and the nerves that had started at seeing all of the people arriving calmed. “You know, I kinda do.”
“And to think, only a few years ago I was working on letting you go. That whole saying about releasing things so they’ll come back to you is true.”
Humor tugged on her lips. “You’re a dork.”
“Aaand that sounds more like the sister I know and love.” He grinned. “Have I told you how proud I am of you?”
“Not this week.”
“You should be proud of yourself, too.”
“I am. I think.” Rachel had been working on letting go of needing to prove herself and trusting that God’s opinion—His great love for her—mattered more than the past, present and future jumbled together. And she was happy in this town, with her family and friends, and with the man about to become her husband. She’d had no idea she could be so content with what she’d been fighting against for so long.
Music drifted through the open door, and Rachel placed her hand in the crook of Cash’s arm. They made their way outside and down the front steps. About forty chairs were filled with guests for the simple ceremony they’d timed to start just as the sun began to set.
When they reached the end of the aisle, Rachel sought Hunter’s gaze and found it wrapped around her as if no one else existed.
Lands, she loved him.
His dimples sprang to life as if her thoughts had been spoken out loud.
She and Cash walked down the aisle as Grayson hopped on one foot up front, impatiently waiting to perform his job as the ring bearer, and Kinsley, their precocious flower girl, twirled in her white dress, both of them making the guests titter with suppressed laughter.
Gray had been full of questions about his important role for weeks. Though Rachel did think she’d convinced him that having a spider on the ring pillow was not the best idea.
Pastor Greg did the whole who-gives-this-woman part, and then her hand was in Hunter’s and she was standing face-to-face with him.
“Hi.”
His whispered greeting made her mouth curve. She was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to be talking except to say their vows.
“You look...” His eyes filled with emotion, and he paused to swallow, causing his Adam’s apple to bob. So, of course, the waterworks sprouted for her, too.
“Do not make me cry on my wedding day, Hunter McDermott.”
That playful grin of his returned. “Yes, ma’am.”
The ceremony went by in a blur. Rachel only knew she’d promised to share her life with someone she never wanted to live without. She was good with that decision.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Greg’s head tilted toward them, his voice low. “Who knew that when Lucy Redmond suggested the two of you help with the float, we’d end up here?”
Rachel’s mouth dropped open. Hunter’s head shook in answer to her silent query, his cheeks creasing.
“I didn’t know, either.”
Both of them glanced in Lucy’s direction. She was sitting with Graham and her girls, absolutely beaming from the second row. Guess Rachel would have to thank her later for her meddling. Laughter bubbled in her throat. Leave it to Lucy to quietly stick her nose into their business and come out looking like a shining star.
Greg eased back, speaking in a louder voice. “Hunter, you may kiss your bride. And in case anyone is wondering, this is not a first kiss.”
Laughter rang out, along with a cheer from their friends and family, as Hunter’s lips met hers, his arms warm and strong around her. His whisper cascaded by her ear. “Time to head back down that aisle as a married woman, Mrs. McDermott.” He inched back to look into her eyes. “Need a lift?” He made a motion, almost bending, as though he planned to scoop her up like he had before.
Her eyes shot to the size of dinner plates, and she whacked his shoulder in front of God and all of the guests. “Don’t you dare!” The words hissed out and were met by a low chuckle as he straightened. Winked.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. At least, not on our wedding day. But after...” He shrugged as if to say he couldn’t control the future.
Her huff of exaggerated annoyance was negated by the smile that accompanied it. “What have I gotten myself into?”
“Only the best decision of your life, darlin’.”
For once, she agreed with him.
“Ready?” He offered her his elbow, and she linked her arm through his as they faced the people who loved them and took their first step into the world as husband and wife. She couldn’t wait to do life with Hunter by her side. Tears pricked her eyes as she contemplated the amazing man God had written into her story. He was more than she’d ever hoped for, a rock when she needed it, and most of all, he loved her with a devotion she almost couldn’t understand.
She might not deserve him, but she planned to keep him.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this story,
pick up these other books by Jill Lynn:
FALLING FOR TEXAS
HER TEXAS FAMILY
Available now from Love Inspired!
Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com
Keep reading for an excerpt from HOMETOWN REUNION by Lisa Carter.
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Dear Reader,
Rachel was a broken teen in Falling for Texas, and I was so excited to write a redemption story for her. But as it goes in life, sometimes our best-laid plans get disrupted.
Between books two and three (this one), I lost a friend to cancer. Before she passed, we wrote a book together. After, I had a hard time writing fiction again. I went round and round with Rachel and Hunter’s story. Finally it all came together. But I felt a lot of pressure to get it all right. To complete it. To do it on my own instead of crashing into Jesus and trusting His timing.
I am the type, like Rachel, who wants to write my own redemption story. As if I can work hard enough or earn enough grace to cover my mistakes. Which, of course, is the opposite of the definition of grace.
Rachel struggles to show everyone she’s changed. And she has. But she forgets that she’s already loved and forgiven. That human judgments don’t count. Only God’s opinion matters. The moment Jesus gave up His life on the cross, her redemption story (and mine and yours) was completed.
I love to connect with readers. Find me at facebook.com/JillLynnAuthor or at instagram.com/JillLynnAuthor for conversations about life and God and everything in between.
My newsletter is where I send out announcements about upcoming books and sales. Sign up at Jill-Lynn.com/news.
Jill Lynn
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.
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Hometown Reunion
by Lisa Carter
Chapter One
Stepping out of his Ford 250, Jaxon Pruitt winced as his knees creaked. At thirty-two, he was already nothing but a washed-up old man. A failure.
He glanced at his two-year-old son, Brody, strapped in his car seat. Correction—Jax was a washed-up, thirty-two-year-old dad.
After all these years, he was back where he’d begun, at Kiptohanock Kayaking. The shop was on the seawall, sandwiched between the marine animal hospital and the Coast Guard station.
From the adjacent harbor, a slight breeze wafted. Recreational and commercial fishing boats bobbed in the marina. And the once familiar scent of briny seawater filled his nostrils. At the sound of a loud caw, both he and Brody looked skyward. Overhead, a seagull performed an acrobatic figure eight.
As Jax reached to unbuckle the harness, Brody shrank into the seat. The toddler’s brown eyes went wide, piercing Jax’s heart. A former Green Beret, he’d always known what to do on any given mission, but Jax didn’t know how to fix things with the son he barely knew.
He had no clue how to be not just a father, but Brody’s father. He’d messed up everything with Adrienne, and now he had no idea how to help Brody deal with her loss.
Brody closed his eyes and stuck his thumb into his mouth. With a click, Jax released the seat buckle, and Brody’s eyes popped open. But the thumb remained in his mouth. Giving the child space, Jax backed away. His work boots crunched on the crushed-shell parking lot.
Seizing his chance, Brody scrambled out of the crew cab like a convict desperate to escape Alcatraz. Despite short toddler legs, he jumped to the ground in a move that made his airborne-qualified father proud.
But those days were behind Jax. He fought the urge to give in to the despair dogging him since his commanding officer had pulled him aside to deliver the life-changing news of his wife’s death.
“Wanna go home,” Brody whispered.
Jax wanted to go home, too. If only he knew where home resided. That was the reason he’d brought his son to the small fishing village in seaside Virginia where he’d grown up.
Was this a giant mistake? A ten-year combat veteran, he hadn’t called any place home in a long time. And with Adrienne gone, perhaps home was a place that no longer existed for him.
So far, the transition from military to civilian life had been anything but smooth sailing. Thank God for his aunt, and the new start she offered him.
Kiptohanock Kayaking was an opportunity to make a home for Brody. Maybe Jax’s last chance to bond with his son. If it wasn’t already too late.
He shook himself. He couldn’t afford pessimism. As a former member of the elite Special Forces, he was trained to never quit. And no matter what it took, whatever sacrifice, he’d make this work with Brody. Their survival as a family depended on it.
Per his training, Jax scoped out the terrain. On this mid-June Saturday, two vehicles were parked outside the outfitters shop. A seen-better-days bronze SUV with an empty roof rack, and next to it, his aunt’s burgundy Grand Cherokee.
A bell jangled as his aunt stepped out of the shop onto the porch. Grinning, she waved them over. A lot had happened in his life since he’d worked here during high-school summers. More than the years or mileage would indicate.
He took Brody’s small hand. “Let’s go meet Aunt Shirley.” He towed his son toward the porch.
After spending a disastrous six months with Adrienne’s family, Jax found it good to see a friendly face. In cargo pants and the buttoned-up sleeves of her quick-dry shirt, his aunt was a walking advertisement for an outdoor provision company. Only these days, her hair was more salt than the pepper he remembered.
Dropping his hold on Brody, Jax engulfed her in a bear-size hug. The sheen of tears in the eyes of his unsentimental, take-no-prisoners relative surprised him.
“You haven’t changed a bit.” She clapped Jax on the back, jolting him. At six foot three, he wasn’t easy to jolt. “A little taller, certainly broader in the shoulders.” Her twinkling blue eyes teased him. “Far more handsome, if that’s possible.”
For the first time since driving over the Bay Bridge Tunnel from the mainland, he smiled. “And you are eternally youthful.”
“Not true, but thank you.” She gave him a wry smile in return. “I like to think I’ve mellowed with age.”
“Aunt Shirley, this is my son, Brody.”
Hunkered near the railing, Brody turned his little mouth upside down.
Jax bit off a sigh. “Brody, come meet Aunt Shirley. We’ll be living at her old house.”
Brody’s brows drew together like two wiggly caterpillars. “No.” His favorite word.
“I see the resemblance in the scowl.” Shirley blew out a breath. “Is he as stubborn and mule-headed as you’ve always been, dear nephew?”
Scrubbing his hand over his face, he laughed. Blunt as always. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.
“He’s got Pruitt blood in him. Won’t take long for him to fall hopelessly in love with Shore life.” She winked. “You, too.”
Jax felt hopeless, though not with love. Time had run out for him and Adrienne. The enormous responsibility of being a single parent weighed heavy on his not-feeling-so-broad shoulders.
“I’m grateful for this lifeline you’ve thrown me, Aunt Shirl.”
Like a swift kick in the pants, she poked him with her bony elbow. “So don’t blow it, soldier.”
His lips twitched. His maiden aunt would’ve made an excellent drill sergeant.
Shirley squeezed his arm. “Darcy’s not happy about our arrangement. She’s not exactly your biggest fan.”
He grunted. “I can always count on you to give it to me straight, Aunt Shirl.”
The short bark of her laugh echoed over the tidal estuary behind the shop. “But I’ve no doubt with that renowned Pruitt charm of yours, you’ll find a way to convince her to stay for the busy summer season.”
His so-called charm was his fallback position. As comfortable as a broken-in, well-loved baseball glove. Where he kept his feelings safely hidden.
Jax made a face. “The way I remember it, Darcy Parks doesn’t charm easily. Or maybe she’s just immune to mine.”
“Nothing worth having is ever easy.”
“I’m prepared to give the business everything I’ve got.” He frowned. “We are talking about the business, right?”
Shirley stuck her tongue in her cheek. “Don’t tell your brothers I said so, but you’re my favorite Pruitt nephew. I have full confidence in your ability to handle every challenge that comes your way.”
“Like fiscal management?”
“That, too.” Her eyes sparkled. “It’s good to have you home, Jaxon.”
With his face pressed bet
ween the railing spindles, Brody peered out over the village green. Like a prisoner through iron bars.
She tossed Jax a ring of keys. He caught them with one hand.
His aunt plodded down the wooden steps in her hiking boots. “How about I take this little sea urchin over to the Sandpiper Café for some Long John doughnuts before they close this afternoon?”
In true Tidewater fashion, her “about” came out sounding like “a boot.” The soft musicality of her speech brought an unexpected welling to his eyes. It had been a long time since he’d been among his own people on the Eastern Shore. Too long.
Brody let go of the railing. “Hungwy.”
She smirked. “You trying to starve this growing boy, Jaxon?”
“We had a burger at the Bay Bridge Grill for lunch.” He squared his shoulders. “Shakes, too.”
One of the few things he knew about kids: keep feeding them so they don’t turn on you.
She held her hand out to Brody. “Ready?”
He snatched his hands behind his back. “No.”
Jax gasped. “Brody...”
His aunt widened her stance. “Do you want doughnuts or not, young man? Makes me no never mind, either way.”
Brody jerked his thumb in Jax’s direction. “Him?”
Not once since Adrienne died had Brody called him Daddy. Most of the time, he refused to communicate with Jax at all. Except for no. He’d mastered that word.
“Your dad will be waiting right here when we get back.” She patted Brody’s shoulder. An awkward “I don’t know what to do with a child” pat.
Join the club. He didn’t, either.
“I’ll be here, I promise, Brody.”
His son glared at him. An indication of what he thought of his father’s promises?
“Just like you.” Shirley chuckled. “In so many hardheaded, annoying ways...”
