© 2012 by Jennifer Johnson
Print ISBN 978-1-61626-573-1
eBook Editions:
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-60742-866-4
Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-60742-867-1
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher.
Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
Cover design: Faceout Studio, www.faceoutstudio.com
Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.barbourbooks.com
Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.
Printed in the United States of America.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my husband, Albert. I will always remember the first time I saw him. I was a sophomore (cheerleader). He was a senior (quarterback). He was sitting on the football bench, his head ducked down—he’d just been hit in the back and was catching his breath. I’d never seen him before, but I knew he was The One. (From that moment, the poor boy didn’t have a choice but to like me back. It’s true—I’m quite persistent.)
I love you, Al!
Table of Contents
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
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Discussion Questions
About the Author
Chapter 1
In order to plan your future wisely, it is necessary that you understand and appreciate your past.
JO COUDERT
The floorboard creaked. Megan McKinney leaped from the office chair, her stapler clattering to the ground. Ignoring it, she twirled away from the copier and toward the front door of the law office. At the sight of a client, she placed her hand against her chest to still her racing heartbeat. She forced a smile. “Sorry ‘bout that. I didn’t hear the door.”
The red-haired woman rolled her eyes then stared at long, manicured fingernails. “Obviously.”
Megan sat and straightened in the chair. Dumb machine jammed up papers more than it copied them. Clients often scared the life out of her, coming in when she was elbow-deep in yanking out documents.
She forced a smile as she took in the woman’s lime-green, spring sweater, the shape enhanced by modern medicine, and the white capris that exposed the lace outline of some very skimpy undergarments. No doubt about it, the redhead was here for Justin.
Megan raised her eyebrows. She had to give the woman credit: the silver rhinestone sandals were the most adorable she’d ever laid eyes on.
Lifting her chin, Megan prepared herself for the woman’s tirade if she wasn’t the younger Frasure’s scheduled appointment. She had endured more than her share of self-centered fashion plates since coming to work for the law offices of Frasure, Frasure, and Combs six months ago.
“You gonna tell Justin I’m here?” The woman offered a quick glance of contempt and placed her hand against her chest. Megan noted the gargantuan marquise diamond on her left ring finger. Engagement ring. No wedding band.
Megan bit back the urge to ask the woman if her fiancé would also be available for the appointment. She shook her head. None of her business. “Let me check. What is your name?”
“Never mind, darlin’.”
At the syrupy-sweet shift in tone, Megan followed the woman’s gaze and saw that her divorce-turned-adoption-attorney boss, Justin Frasure, had opened his office door.
Megan gritted her teeth and forced a smile. Justin furrowed dark, thick eyebrows above chocolate-drop eyes. His stunning and impossibly delicious looks never failed to send a shiver down her spine and then a wrinkle of disgust to her nose. She couldn’t stand men like him.
He motioned for the redhead to enter his office. Megan looked away until she heard the door shut behind him.
Sucking in her gag reflex, she twirled her chair toward the computer screen. She highlighted Justin Frasure’s latest appointment as an indication that the client had shown up. Something tells me that woman isn’t here for adoption advice.
She clicked a few buttons on her keyboard and switched to the university home page. With a huff, she typed in her username and password. Still no posted grade from her spring class. She logged off, and Justin’s appointment book flashed on the screen.
Her stomach turned. Justin Frasure must have run out of the hot divorcees in the city. Added engagees to his list instead. She wrinkled her nose. Is there such a word as engagees?
The last secretary had warned Megan he would hit on any pretty woman who crossed his path and that Megan, as quite the “adorable cutie,” would be a prime target.
But he hadn’t hit on Megan. Hadn’t even flirted with her. Not that Megan cared. She didn’t want the man’s attention. Not in the slightest. After dating Clint Morgan in high school, she and God had enough issues to work through when it came to trusting men.
Besides, what did she care about who came into the law office? Scooping up the nonurgent messages she’d taken throughout the day for the three lawyers, she made her way to the office mailboxes outside their doors. She’d cringed when she’d placed Justin’s messages in his box, remembering how one woman with a strong southern accent had whined incessantly because she couldn’t speak with that “handsome, young lawyer” directly.
Megan bit back the growl that threatened almost every day she worked. Nothing upset her more than a man who played women. The Holy Spirit nudged her heart. She shouldn’t judge him. The Bible told her to pray for those who got on her nerves. Maybe, not in so many words, but she knew her flustered feelings wouldn’t change the guy’s behavior. She blew out a long breath. Forgive me, God. Bless Justin. She gulped. And the redhead.
Okay, so maybe her heart didn’t feel the silent prayer she’d sent upward, but it was the best she could do for now. She made her way back to the desk and flopped into the seat. The heart could be deceitful. Obedience was the key. God had proven that time and again.
Shaking away the thought, she focused on the letter the elder Frasure had given her to type. She glanced at the clock. Only two more hours to work, and then she’d be off for a three-day weekend.
She finished the letter, e-mailed it to Mr. Frasure for final approval, then checked the college website again to see if the grade for her education class had been posted. She sighed when the space remained blank. “Well, my professor has to post by Monday,” she whispered as she scooped a pile of folders in her arms and headed to the filing cabinet.
/> The door to Justin Frasure’s office opened, and the redhead walked out, shutting the door hard. Frustration, or more like fury, seemed to etch her brow and purse her lips as she nodded toward Megan and headed for the front door. Megan placed the last file in its appropriate place. She stood to her full height and flattened the wrinkles from her blue checkered skirt.
She rarely talked with Justin. It was Mr. Combs and Justin’s father who seemed to need her assistance the most. But Mr. Combs was on a cruise with his wife, and the elder Frasure was with a client—a very attractive client who would probably be with him awhile. It had only taken a week for Megan to realize the acorn didn’t fall far from the Frasure tree.
She exhaled a long breath. She had no choice but to remind Justin she wouldn’t be in the office the next day. Glancing toward the door, Megan hoped his mood didn’t mirror the client’s.
Forcing herself to lift her chin in confidence, she knocked on the doorjamb, cleared her throat, then opened the door. The younger Frasure’s head snapped up from whatever he was studying at his desk. His eyes flashed, ready for confrontation. She sucked in a breath, realizing she hadn’t waited for him to invite her in.
Then his expression softened, and his entire body seemed to exhale. Megan swallowed and balled her fists at her sides, willing her legs to stay strong beneath her. The man was sinfully attractive. It wasn’t fair.
She cleared her throat again. “Mr. Frasure?”
“I’ve told you to call me Justin.” His voice, though deep as Mammoth Cave was long, whispered to her like a butterfly kiss on her cheek.
“I know.” She nodded as she reminded her brain to continue to send the message to her legs to stay upright. “But you’re my boss, and I feel it’s appropriate …”
His lips curved up ever so slightly on the left side, as if he found her determination for propriety, or possibly her discomfort at being in his office, somewhat humorous. “All right, Ms. McKinney. How can I help you?”
“I just wanted to remind you I will not be at work tomorrow.”
A shadow fell across his face, and he looked down at his desk. “I’d forgotten.” He picked up his iPhone from the desk and punched something into it. He looked at her again. “I remember now. You asked for a personal day. Do you mind my being nosy about it?”
Megan shook her head. “Not at all. I’m going on a canoeing field trip with my sister’s sixth-grade class. I went with her last year. It’s a lot of fun. The water is calm, practically unmoving, or so it seems, and only waist high in most areas. We all have to wear life jackets the entire time, so it’s very safe for the students. It has to be. Her school takes eighty students each day with only eight or nine chaperones. But, it’s …” She clasped her hands in front of her waist as she realized she’d become quite animated in her description of the trip. She cleared her throat. “It’s a lot of fun.”
A full smile curved his lips. “Sounds like it.” He leaned back in his chair. “I haven’t been in a canoe in years.”
“It’s nice.” She took a step back from his door then lifted her hand in a hesitant wave. She had no idea why the man made her so nervous. “I’ll—I’ll see you Monday.”
“Okay.”
Unclenching her fists, she rubbed her clammy hands together.
“Hey, Megan.”
She turned at Justin’s voice, realizing that may have been the first time she’d heard him say her given name. If only his voice wasn’t as enticing as his looks. The man had been entirely too well formed in his mother’s womb. “Yes?”
“Your blue outfit really accentuates your eyes.”
He looked away from her and focused on his computer screen. For a moment, Megan felt glued to the carpet. She stared at Justin, her jaw dropping slightly. Blinking twice, she found her voice. “Thank you.”
Once again having to force messages from her brain to her legs and feet, she turned on her heels and headed toward her desk. Did he just hit on me? Was that flirting?
She gnawed the inside of her cheek. He acted as if he’d merely stated facts, no emotions, no ulterior motives. She shut down her computer and grabbed her purse out of its cubby. I’ll believe it was simply an observation, a kind observation. Nothing more.
Megan awakened early, made some coffee, then walked onto the back deck with her java, devotional, and Bible to enjoy the sunrise. She was a natural early riser, and God never ceased to amaze her with the beauty of His creation each new day. Having been raised on a small farm in southeastern Kentucky, she missed the smell of cattle, freshly cut grass, and honeysuckle blooming in spring. She missed watching the sunrise over trees and through hills.
And yet she and her sister Marianna had managed to find an apartment in the midst of Lexington that overlooked a well-groomed, nature-filled park. The sun rose just as spectacularly here. Megan sat in the black patio chair and took a sip of her cream-filled coffee. The warmth covered the slight nip of the early spring air, and she couldn’t help but grin.
The back door opened, and Marianna stepped onto the deck. Her sister’s long blond mane reminded Megan of the bird’s nest they found every year in the dogwood tree in front of their parents’ house. Though alike in so many other ways, Marianna had never learned to appreciate the glory of a sunrise in the morning. Megan met God in the morning. Marianna preferred the night.
Megan waved to her sister, younger by three short minutes. “You’re up early.”
Marianna groaned as she flopped into the chair beside Megan. She folded her legs up onto the seat, wrapped her arms around her calves, and dropped her chin on her knees.
Megan laughed. “Happy birthday, sis.”
Marianna wrinkled her nose and grinned. “Happy birthday to you, too. What a great way to spend our twenty-fourth birthday—in a canoe with a bunch of sixth graders.”
“Are you kidding?” Megan nudged her twin sister’s arm. “This trip is a blast.”
Marianna grabbed Megan’s coffee cup off the patio table and took a sip.
“Hey!” Megan grabbed it back from her. “I don’t want your cooties in my coffee. I’m telling the teacher.”
Marianna rolled her eyes. “I am one of the teachers. We’ll have a lot of fussing and tattling today. They’re eleven- and twelve-year-olds, you know.”
“Oh I know.” Megan nodded. “And you love every minute of it.”
Marianna started to grin, but a yawn took over, and she swiped her eye with the back of her hand. “You’re going to love teaching, too. Did you get your grade back yet?”
“Not yet.” Megan stared out over the park, so peaceful and still. Only an occasional bird chirped. A squirrel raced from one tree to the next. She knew God wanted her to use the musical talent he’d given her. She’d always assumed it would be through contemporary Christian music, but when she’d had the opportunity to work with her twin in the school system over the last year, Megan realized she wanted to teach children as well.
Marianna dropped her legs out of the chair then wrapped her hands around her bare arms. “It is absolutely freezing out here. I’m going in.” She hopped up, stepped through the door, and looked back at Megan. “First dibs on the shower.”
Megan shook her head and waved her hand through the air. “You always take a shower first, and you always use all the hot water, too.”
“You know what they say: the early bird gets the worm.”
“I got up a full hour before you.”
“But you sit out here on the deck, enjoying the nippy fifty-degree weather.”
Megan laughed. “Go get your shower, and save me some water.”
Marianna shut the door, and Megan turned back toward the park. She picked up her Bible and turned to the scripture she’d read every birthday since she was sixteen. Her Sunday school teacher had insisted the teens memorize it. She opened to Jeremiah, “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’” declares the Lord, “‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’ ”
She shut her
Bible and sucked in a long breath. That year had changed her life. Having gone to church every Sunday with one of her neighborhood friends, she’d accepted Jesus into her heart when she was fourteen, and He was her Savior, her Redeemer from sin. Accepting Him was the best choice she’d ever made.
But sixteen? Sixteen was a year she’d never forget. It changed how she looked at things. What she thought. What she felt. God was still working on her heart and mind, getting her through the hurt and confusion.
She closed her eyes and whispered into the breeze. “You’ve brought me so far, precious Jesus. Keep loving me. Keep molding me. I am your clay.”
The phone rang inside the apartment. Megan opened her eyes and spied one of the elderly neighbors as he puttered down the sidewalk, his small poodle on a leash in front of him. The phone rang again. Megan gripped the arms of the chair.
Marianna was in the shower and wouldn’t be able to answer it. Megan knew who it was. She knew she should answer it. God would want her to answer it.
Pushing herself away from the chair, she walked toward the rings. Even if everyone she knew would agree with her right to ignore the call, Megan would obey the Spirit.
She’d obey, and maybe one day her heart would follow her actions. She walked through the door and glanced at the caller ID. Just who she’d expected. Sucking in a breath, she grabbed the phone off the receiver. “Hello, Mom.”
Chapter 2
No one ever choked to death swallowing his pride.
HARVEY MACKAY
Gripping the sides of the canoe, Colt Baker jerked his head around at the sound of a blood-curdling scream. What in the world would be causing such a ruckus?
In an obvious attempt to get the canoe turned around, his niece paddled her oar feverishly on the right side. “Colt, come on. Something’s gotta be wrong. Looks like Miss Megan, and she’s got Stephanie with her.”
In just a few strong strokes of his paddle, Colt maneuvered them around, and he and Hadley headed back toward the still squealing teacher. This couldn’t be good. Stephanie was impulsive and often too physical. She showed little affection and frustrated easily. But Hadley had a soft spot for the autistic child, and she was often able to settle the girl down.
Wedding Song in Lexington, Kentucky Page 1
