by Diane Moody
“So let’s stop jumping to conclusions. Stop making assumptions based on false pretenses. Let’s determine, in every single area of our lives, to seek the truth. Why? Say it with me again: ‘Because the truth will set you free.”
Epilogue
Six months later
“You’ve got to give her credit for tenacity,” Julie Bryson said after catching her breath. “The dynamite’s already set to blow, and there’s our dear Georgia, placard in hand.”
“Save the Tower! It’s not too late! SAVE THE TOWER!” Georgia Schwimmer shouted, marching back and forth in her faithful quest to stop the destruction.
“Reminds me of that lady in Back to the Future who was trying to save the clock tower, remember?” Peyton laughed.
“I was just thinking the same thing!” Gevin added.
“I hope she doesn’t pass out,” Emily said. “She’s looking a bit winded, don’t you think?”
“She’ll be okay,” Julie added. “She always gets a little flushed when she’s excited.”
Half an hour earlier, Peyton and Aubrey had joined the others who gathered a safe distance away from the water tower. They’d all brought picnic baskets for the event, thankful for the slightly warmer spring weather.
“How much longer now?” Aubrey asked as she put their empty dishes back in the basket.
“Looks like another fifteen minutes to the countdown,” Peyton answered. “They’ll blow the final horn when that begins.”
The three couples had grown close over the past few months, and Aubrey cherished their friendships. Once she’d moved her belongings from Brooklyn, she’d quickly acclimated to life in Braxton. She loved living with her mother and helping her at the store when she could. The timing couldn’t have been better as they helped each other through new chapters in their lives. Faye’s without Jed, and Aubrey’s without her father.
She’d been surprised by the kindred spirit she’d quickly sensed with the people of this little town. With Peyton, especially, and these two couples as well. She still wondered at this lifestyle she hadn’t known she’d been missing through all those lonely years in New York.
“Aubrey, let me see it again,” Julie asked, holding her hand out to grasp Aubrey’s.
She gladly stretched her hand between their two lawn chairs, wiggling her fingers, still not used to the ring on her finger.
“Who knew pastors had such good taste in diamonds?” Julie teased. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”
“Have you set a date yet?” Emily asked.
“We’ve talked about it, but nothing definite yet,” Peyton answered, wrapping his arm around her.
“Well, just be sure to schedule it after Em and I have our babies,” Julie said. “Trust me. You do not want your two bridesmaids waddling down the aisle.”
“Presumptuous, are we?” Gevin asked. “Sis, how about letting Aubrey decide who she’ll choose as her bridesmaids.”
Aubrey laughed. “Of course they’re my bridesmaids, Gevin.”
“Then you’re welcome,” he said with a chuckle.
“So, let’s see,” Julie began. “I’m due in late July, Em is due in early August, so we should both be good to go a few weeks after. Maybe a September wedding?”
“Jules, let the girl make her own plans!” Matt scolded playfully. “Aubrey, you’ll have to forgive my wife. She likes to think the world rotates around her.”
Julie laughed. “You mean it doesn’t?”
“No, sister mine, it does not,” Gevin said. “And not to change the subject or anything—”
“Oh, please do,” Matt interrupted.
“Aubrey, how’s the job going at Braxton House?”
“It’s great, Gevin. Obviously, I had some pretty big shoes to fill, but I’m really enjoying the work. Kathleen did such a wonderful job laying the foundation for everything that goes on there, and that’s made a huge difference.”
“Has anyone talked to Kathleen lately?” Emily asked.
“I met with her last week,” Peyton said. “She’s handling her probation as well as can be expected. And I’m glad she’s following through with the court-mandated counseling. She’ll get through this. I have confidence in her.”
“Does she know Aubrey took her place as the curator?” Matt asked.
“Oh yes, and she’s extremely pleased about that.”
“So we don’t have to worry about her coming back and fighting to get her old job back?” Julie asked.
“No, in fact she’s planning to move to northwest Georgia once her probation is over. She has some friends there in Blue Ridge and decided that’s where she’d like to get a fresh start.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Gevin added. “Too many bad memories for her here, so I’m glad she’s got somewhere to go.”
“Peyton, how’s Tristan doing?” Emily asked. He’s still in Knoxville, right?”
“Yes, and doing really well there. He just started working on his GED then hopes to take some college classes. He’s still helping out with troubled kids in juvenile detention there. I have to say, I’m amazed at how he’s finally turning his life around. He’s committed to helping kids avoid the mistakes he made. Never thought I’d live to see the day. But I couldn’t be prouder of him.”
“That’s so wonderful,” Julie said. “Does he know you and Aubrey got engaged?”
“Not yet, but I’m driving over to see him next week. I thought I’d ask him to be my best man.”
“Ahhhhh,” Julie and Emily cooed.
“That’s so sweet,” Emily added.
“Be sure to give him our best, okay?” Julie added.
“I’ll do that.”
A piercing horn hurt their ears as the five-minute warning blew. In the silence afterward, Georgia’s whimpers filled in the gaps as the moment passed.
“Poor thing,” Emily said.
Gevin stood. “It’s almost time!”
“So the plan is, once the tower comes down, to start building the city park?” Aubrey asked.
“Yes,” Matt answered. “I’ve seen the plans, and it’s going to be amazing. For once, this view will have a purpose where folks can come and walk the trails, have cookouts, kids can play soccer and baseball, and they’re planting lots of trees as well.”
“I’m just glad they pried Stone Decker’s fingers off the property. How on earth a man in prison can manipulate so many people and try to grab what doesn’t belong to him is beyond me,” Gevin said.
“He’s unbelievable. Thankfully, Mayor Suggs and Jeff worked together to break up that little coup,” Matt said. “And gave Decker five more years for the effort.”
“All’s well that ends well,” Julie added then abruptly grabbed Matt’s hand and placed it on her belly. “Oh! Matt! Feel that? The baby moved!”
The horn sounded again, this time in five short blasts.
“That’s the countdown, so here we go!” Peyton said, jumping up with the others. “Altogether now! Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. TWO! ONE!”
For your reading pleasure, an excerpt of Diane Moody's bestselling mystery, The Runaway Pastor's Wife, is included following the author page and acknowledgments.
About the Author
Born in Texas and raised in Oklahoma, Diane Hale Moody is a graduate of Oklahoma State University. She lives with her husband Ken in the rolling hills just outside of Nashville. They are the proud parents of two grown and extraordinary children, Hannah and Ben.
Just after moving to Tennessee in 1999, Diane felt the tug of a long-neglected passion to write again. Since then, she’s written a column for her local newspaper, feature articles for various magazines and curriculum, and several novels with a dozen more stories eagerly vying for her attention.
When she’s not reading or writing, Diane enjoys an eclectic taste in music and movies, great coffee, the company of good friends, and the adoration of an energetic little pooch named Lucy.
Visit Diane's website at www.dianemoody.net and her blog, “just
sayin’” at www.dianemoody.blogspot.com
Acknowledgments
To all my wonderful readers and their kind words of encouragement. Thank you for taking the time to write the reviews and share my stories with your friends. You’re the best!
A special thanks to Morlee Maynard, my sweet sister and my second pair of eyes. Thank you for being my best beta reader and for all your encouragement along the way. Next Cracker Barrel breakfast is one me, Sis!
To my amazing editor from Down Under, Bev Harrison, whose attention to detail has spoiled me rotten as I’ve come to depend on your stellar gifts! Thank you for your tremendous patience with my comma-challenged attempts at writing stories. Couldn’t and wouldn’t ever want to do this without you, mate!
To my dear friend Debbie Church who covers me with prayer as I write and helps me reach my goals. Forgive me for stealing a couple “tidbits” from your life’s story. Let me make it up to you with coffee and carrot cake at J. Alexander’s. My treat.
To my daughter Hannah for her extraordinary talents as a graphic designer. Thank you for the new covers for this series and the sparkle you always add. I love you to the moon and back, sweetie!
To my husband Ken, for whom there truly are no words to adequately thank for making this journey alongside me all these years. From our initial brainstorming sessions to your crackerjack marketing magic, I owe it all to you. Oh, how I thank God for the privilege of doing life with you!
And finally, as I finish this story and let it go, I thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and ask Him to bless each one who reads it. If even one kind soul is touched for You, I’ll consider it mission accomplished. A thousand thanks would never be enough. To God be the glory!
Prologue
Stillwater, Oklahoma
Seventeen years ago
“I don’t have a clue.”
“He’s your best friend—what do you mean you don’t have a clue?”
“Correction. You are my best friend.” Michael Dean leaned across the plaid-covered table to plant a pizza kiss on his girlfriend’s lips.
“Michael!” Annie Franklin snatched a napkin to wipe her mouth.
“What?”
“Look at this,” she flipped the napkin smeared with pizza sauce. “You can sweet talk me any day, but lose the grease first, okay?”
He watched his girlfriend, enjoying her reprimand. He drank in the sight of her long brown hair, curled and shining even in the dim candlelight of their favorite pizza dive. Her sparkling eyes, a rich shade of deep sable, danced as if hiding some delicious secret—eyes that never failed to mesmerize him.
And her smile . . . he could lose himself in that smile. Any time, any day. He reached for another slice of pizza, folded it in half, and took a huge bite. “You’re beautiful when you get mad,” he mumbled. “Did you know that?” He locked gazes with her as she finished wiping her mouth.
A reluctant smile spread across her face. “Stop changing the subject. Why is Grady so upset?”
He knew Annie wasn’t afraid to plow through his evasiveness. After three and a half years together, she knew his every nuance. He could hide nothing from her. Inseparable since meeting the first week of their freshman year at Oklahoma State University, he enjoyed the honesty and openness between them—a trait he knew she cherished. And while they didn’t always agree on every subject, there was nothing they wouldn’t or couldn’t discuss.
He took a long gulp from his frosted glass of root beer and wiped the foam off his mouth with the back of his hand. “He’s ticked off at Coach for benching him the last five games. Can’t say as I blame him.”
“Me neither. You’d be climbing the dugout walls if it was you.”
Michael cocked an eyebrow. “No kidding. I mean, think about it, Annie—it’s our senior year. This is it. The stands are crawling with scouts, and there’s Grady—parked on his keister. Look, I feel for him, but what am I supposed to do?”
Annie pushed her plate aside. “I’m sure it doesn’t help that those same scouts are swarming all over you.” She reached for his hand.
He lifted her hand to his lips. “Can I help it if I’m incredibly awesome?”
“Not to mention arrogant, cocky—” She pulled her hand back, grabbing a napkin to wipe off his pizza lip print.
“Seriously, I’m sorry it’s happened to him, but at this point I can’t carry him anymore.” Michael leaned back in the booth. “The stakes are too high. If I’m gonna go in the first or second round of the draft, I’ve got to concentrate on my own game. Grady’s got to look out for himself.”
“I know, but I hate to see him so depressed. Grady’s like family to us. We can’t just let him suffer. I wish there was—”
Wham!
A pile of textbooks slammed onto their table. “Hi guys! Oooh . . . pepperoni! My favorite! Scoot over, Annie.” The spirited blonde plopped down in the booth next to Annie, making herself at home. “Hey Brandon?” she yelled over her shoulder. “Bring me a plate and a Diet Coke, okay?” The waiter nodded his reply as she reached for a slice of pizza. “So what’s going on?”
“Christine, nice of you to join us,” Michael laughed. “Please—don’t be shy. Have some pizza.”
“Thanks, sweetie,” she answered, missing his sarcasm. “Michael, what’d you get on that Business Finance exam?” She popped a piece of pepperoni into her mouth. “That one ate my lunch. I’ll be lucky if I even passed it.”
“I doubt that.” He winked at Annie. “But I don’t know what I got on it. I was out of town for a game and haven’t checked the grade postings yet.” He took another drink, watching his two favorite girls. Best friends since middle school, Annie and Christine Benson were as different as day and night, but closer than sisters. Their friendship was something to behold. A genuine work of art.
“Whatever. Hey, Annie? Can I borrow your black dress?” Christine took a sip from Annie’s glass. “I have a date tonight.”
“The last time you wore it you got salsa on it and didn’t bother to have it cleaned. Tell me one good reason I should loan it to you again.”
“Because I’m your best friend? Because I know all your juicy little secrets?”
“You’re reaching, girlfriend.”
“Because my date has two extra tickets to see James Taylor next week?”
Michael slapped his open palms on the table. “Loan her the dress! Just make sure she hands over the tickets first. All right, Tumbleweed!” He stretched across the table to give Christine a playful kiss on the cheek.
“Stop it!” She pulled away. “You know I hate that stupid name. Grady says it all the time and it annoys me to death.”
He ignored her as usual. “Hey, Annie. You ’n me and James Taylor. How about it?” His eyebrows danced as he crooned the opening lyrics of “Something in the Way She Moves.”
“Sing it, sweet baby James,” Annie swooned.
Michael continued, his pitch perfect as he sang the familiar, romantic words of the song they’d long ago dubbed “their” song.
“That’s real nice, but what’s the big deal?” Christine complained. “I was kind of disappointed Seth had these tickets. I’d rather see Springsteen. Or Michael Jackson. James Taylor is just too, I don’t know, sedate for me.”
Michael’s serenade continued, the lyrics echoing in his glass when he took a sip of root beer. He wiped his mouth again. “Because James Taylor is a classic. He’s the hands-down, all-time best singer-songwriter there is. You should feel blessed—your date has excellent taste in music. Just like us. We like the real deal, the main man, the true blue, Sweet Baby James. Don’t we, Annie?” He reached for her hand across the table.
“We do, that we do.” She smiled back at him with a wink. “Christine, the dress is yours. But this time, don’t bring it back until you get it dry-cleaned, got it? Tickets or no tickets.”
“Sure. Whatever,” Christine dismissed. “But while we’re at it, there are more important things to discuss here. Like shoes. I need your black sti
lettos to go with the dress.”
“Yes, Annie. She simply MUST have those stilettos.” Michael batted his eyes, swishing his dangling wrist across the table. “Though personally, I’d prefer the strappy rhinestone sandals. But that’s just me.”
Annie flicked a packet of sugar, hitting him square on the nose. “Enough! I don’t wear your cleats, sweet thing, so you stay away from my shoes. Got it?”
She gazed across the table at Michael who was still laughing at his own joke. He rolled his head back, then finally caught his breath and leveled his eyes back toward her.
And there it was. That lopsided, boy-next-door grin that melted her every time. How could a smile say so much? As if every emotion in his body was expressed in that one simple gesture. Dimples as deep as the Grand Canyon set in a golden tan. Perfect white teeth. The sun-kissed highlights in his shaggy brown hair, still wet from his after-practice shower. Annie sighed, taking it all in. She rested her chin on her hand and lost herself in his warm brown eyes.
Oblivious to Christine or the other patrons of Hideaway Pizza, Annie felt a surge wash over her like she’d never known before. In that single moment, she knew without a shadow of doubt she would spend the rest of her life with this man who meant more to her than life itself.
I love you, she mouthed silently.
He winked again. I love you more.
Chapter 1
Tampa, Florida
Present day
Annie McGregor felt the heat of impatience creep up her neck as she clutched the steering wheel, the cell phone cradled against her shoulder. “Because I can’t be there. I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to manage without me.”
“Well, calling Tuesday morning is rather short notice, don’t you think?”
Annie bristled. “Fran, I know it’s short notice. Something has come up and I simply can’t make it to Bible study this morning.” Glancing over her shoulder, she merged into the flow of traffic entering the Tampa International Airport, irritated at the obstinacy on the other end of the line. Didn’t “assistant” mean you assisted when necessary?
