As a young man marries a young woman, so will your Builder marry you; as a bridegroom rejoices over his bride, so will your God rejoice over you. ~ Isaiah 62:5
Aintree Race Course, Liverpool
Riding into the gate, Cassie Hinton prayed as she always did at the start of a race. She prayed for courage, for speed, the ability to do her best, but most of all, to bring glory to God through doing so. Her bright yellow jacket sparkled in the warm spring sunlight, the purple satin on her riding hat completing the colors of Tanner’s Stables. She leaned forwards and patted the horse’s neck. “Just do your best,” she told him. “Forget this is the Grand National, and the most important race of our career.”
The gate clanged shut behind them, the noise causing Jeremiah’s Fancy to buck, threatening to unseat her. “Hey, hey,” she said adjusting herself in the saddle. “It’s just the start gate. We’ve done it lots of times.”
“Are you okay, Miss Hinton?”
Cassie smiled at the gate handler. “I’m fine. He’s just skittish. He’ll be fine once we get going.”
“All right, miss.” He nodded and headed down the line checking the other horses.
She reached down, petting the white blaze that ran from the white star, down the length of the horse’s dark nose. “You’re fine. Just take it easy, big fella.”
Cassie took a deep composing breath in a vain attempt to soothe the usual pre-race butterflies filling her stomach. As the gate opened, butterflies vanished, replaced by exhilaration and adrenaline as Jeremiah’s Fancy flew from the gate like a bullet from a gun. Cassie rose in her saddle, leaning over the horse’s neck, whispering encouragement.
They leapt the first fence, landing hard but safe on the wet ground. In her peripheral vision she saw someone to her right fall. At the second fence, the horse in front of her fell. She had seconds to react. Pulling up sharply on the reins, she managed to jump both fallen horse and rider, landing safely.
The rest of the fences passed without incident until they reached the big one—the Chair. Other than Becher’s Brook, this one fence worried her the most. A prayer of thanks rose from her lips as she landed safely and set off around the course for the second and final time. Seeing the creek approach, Cassie tightened the reins, and pulled into the lead.
Jeremiah’s Fancy took off perfectly, but his left back leg clipped the fence, throwing off his timing and he misjudged the landing. He tumbled back down the ditch into the water. Cassie didn’t have time to scream or react as she flew sideways, falling with the horse. Pain exploded as she landed face down in the water, the full weight of the horse on her leg and side.
The horse scrambled to his feet, jerking her head from the water as he stood on her leg. Cassie screamed, dimly aware of horses landing above her. It seemed like an eternity before a hand gently cradled her face and someone else led the frightened horse away.
“My name’s Dean. I’m a paramedic. Can you tell me your name?”
“Cassie.”
“OK, Cassie. Just keep still for me.” Gentle hands moved over her. “Do you know where you are?”
“Yes…In a ditch at Becher’s Brook. It hurts…”
“You’ll be all right. I’m going to give you something for the pain. We’ll have you out of here in a few minutes,” Dean told her. Hands fastened a collar around her neck before slowly lifting her onto a board.
“Is Jeremiah’s Fancy all right?” she asked, trying to raise her head.
“I need you to lie still for me. The horse is fine. The vet will check him over, but he’s up and moving about. Let’s just worry about you.”
Cassie nodded, closing her eyes. She’d be fixable, horses weren’t.
****
One Year Later – Headley Cross
The spring breeze lifted Cassie’s short dark hair and blew it into her eyes as she limped outside her brother’s fabric and craft store into the warm sunshine. The bunting flapped in the wind above her as the council workmen hung it from lamp post to lamp post. The whole town— the whole country, was going all out to celebrate the Royal Wedding of Prince Edwin to Lady Rebekah, with every shop front being decorated. She’d promised her brother, Danny, the best store window wedding display in Headley Cross.
She slid a hand through errant curls and tucked them behind her ear. Taking a deep breath, she stuck hands in the pockets of her full, ankle length skirt and cast a critical eye over the window display. She tilted her head and screwed up her nose. It looks tacky—and the same as all the others. Two hours’ work down the drain. Scrap it and start over. Second time’s the charm…or is it the third?
“A penny for your thoughts, Miss Hinton.”
Cassie turned, recognizing the voice instantly. Pastor Jack from church. The scrawny ginger kid she’d grown up with had become a fit, attractive man, with broad shoulders and narrow hips—if one could think of pastors in those terms.
Her heart pounded, and a huge lump formed in her throat, threatening to cut off her oxygen supply. “Hello, Pastor. You used to call me Cassie. Miss Hinton makes me sound like my ninety-year-old aunt.”
He smiled, his gray-green eyes sparkling, and his now auburn hair framing his face. “And you used to call me Jack, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember.” But that was years ago when we were kids. You were Danny’s best mate, and I hung around with you because I had a massive crush on you. A crush she was far from over if her reaction every time she saw him was anything to go by. And now you’re my pastor.
“So how about I call you Cassie and you call me Jack, or Pastor Jack if you’d find that easier. How are you?”
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“I’m doing well. I’ve finally lost the plaster cast, although I had to promise not to go skiing again.”
Cassie smiled. “It must be nice to be able to type sermons two-handed again. Not to mention coping with an active seven-year-old.”
Jack’s face lit up at the mention of Lara. “It’s been hard, but the Lord gave me the strength I needed to deal with it.” He lowered his voice. “Although, according to some sources, I’m rubbish at doing one-handed ponytails.”
“So am I.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one. What’s the frown for?”
“I’m not happy with the display, but I’m not sure what’s wrong with it.” Cassie turned her attention to the window, heat rising in her cheeks. “Everyone else has photos of the royal couple and ribbons, silver bells, hearts and balloons. I wanted something more sophisticated but this,”—she gestured at the window—“isn’t it.”
“Maybe tie it in with what Danny sells. After all, the bakers did a wedding cake and the printers did invitations. He owns a haberdashery so fabric or something, perhaps.”
Cassie nodded, her mind whirling. “Yeah…thank you.”
Jack glanced at his watch. “I’d best be off and get Lara from school. She complains if I’m late. I hope you find a solution to your problem.”
“Thank you. Bye.” Cassie smiled and turned back to her display, watching Jack’s reflection in the glass as he walked away. He’d always been a Godly man, even as a teenager, and despite everything that happened he kept his faith—unlike her. Her life and her faith lay in ruins.
She used to hope he’d ask her out one day, but it never happened. And now it never would. She was down and out before anything even got started.
He was a pastor, and she was his parishioner. A fallen-without-hope-of-redemption parishioner, at that. Strike one.
He was a widower with a small daughter. Strike two.
Her leg—her disability. No man would ever want a one-legged ex-jockey. Strike three.
Not that any of that stopped the huge smile on her face and her heart pounding because he stopped to speak to her. As he disappeared from view she looked at the window. His words echoed in her mind. Maybe tie it in with what Danny sells…that’s it. The chance I’ve been waiting for.
Cassie headed back inside, a huge grin stuck on her face.
Danny grinned back at her. “I saw you talking to him, sis. I’ve never known anyone who could put a smile on your face like Jack can. Even when we were kids, if you were down he’d get you to smile long before I did.”
Cassie screwed her nose up and playfully thumped him. “I am so over my schoolgirl crush.”
“Are you now?” Danny winked at her. “That’s why you’re a lovely shade of pink.”
“It’s a reflection of my shirt,” she protested. “All right, I’m not over him. It’s not like anything is ever going to happen, is it? He’s my pastor and off limits.”
“Even pastors are allowed a private life and a family. He did once, you know.”
Cassie eased herself onto the chair behind the counter and rubbed her knee. The prosthesis chaffed more than usual. “I know. But it’s been seven years since his wife died. Maybe he’s decided to stay single.”
“Perhaps the right woman never came along. After all, whoever he marries is going to become Lara’s mother, right? So, what did he think of the display?”
“He didn’t say much, but then, I don’t like it. It’s just like all the other displays out there. I want yours to be different and special. He suggested tying it into the theme of the shop and that got me thinking. Do you have any crushed white velvet in stock?”
“Crushed white velvet? No, I don’t. Why?”
“I need six meters for your window display.” She pulled her sketch pad from under the counter and started outlining a bride and groom.
“If I go to the wholesalers now, can you have whatever you’re planning done by Monday? Or closing time on Tuesday at the absolute latest. I don’t want to be the only shop in town not decorated before the royal visit in two weeks’ time.”
“You won’t be. Get me the fabric, and it’ll be done.”
“Will you tell me what you need it for?” He tried to peek at her drawing.
Cassie shook her head, and closed the sketch pad. “No. You’ll have to wait and see.”
Danny grabbed his keys. “And if it goes horribly wrong, I’m blaming Jack for giving you the idea in the first place.”
Cassie looked innocently at him. “I don’t know what you mean. Now scoot to the wholesalers and let me work.” The door closed. She re-opened the pad and looked down at her work. The groom in the sketch was Jack and the bride was her.
****
Jack stood in the playground as the children streamed out of the red brick building. The school hadn’t changed since the dark ages when he, Danny, and Cassie attended. Amidst the laugher and chatter of three hundred children, one small redhead with hair all over the place sought him out and flung her arms around him.
“Daddy.” Her high pitched scream of delight rang in his ears as he swung her into his arms and hugged her. “You’re on time.”
“Hello, princess. Of course I’m on time.” Jack kissed her. He’d been late precisely once in the last two years, and she’d never let him forget it. “How was your day?”
“It was good.” Lara slid her small hand into his larger one as he set her down. “You lost your cast. Does this mean your awm’s all better, now?”
“Yes it does.”
“Yay—you can do my hair pwoperly now. What’s for dinner?”
Jack smiled at her as they began walking home. “Toad in the hole.”
“Yummy. Can we have nonion gwavy, cawwots and bwocowi?”
“Sure.” He peeked behind her ears and she giggled. “Nope, no green splodges yet.”
“Gwandma says I won’t turn into bwocowi, Daddy. She says you’re silly.”
“Does she? Well, at least I won’t have to eat you…I like broccoli.”
Lara giggled. “Can we have chips?”
“Chips are for Fridays. You can have baked potato or mash.”
“Emma’s mummy does chips evewy day.”
Jack let that slide as they reached the fabric store. “What about cheesy mash with a red sauce smiley face on the top instead?”
Lara nodded. She pressed her nose against the window. “Look at the wabbits. Aren’t they pwetty?” She pointed to the knitted rabbits in the corner of the display.
“Yes, they are.” Jack looked beyond the display at Cassie. She sat behind the counter serving a customer. She glanced his way and smiled, raising a hand in greeting. The smile lit her hazel eyes, color tinting her cheeks. Did she know she blushed every time she saw him?
“Can I have one?”
“Not today, Lara. I have to get tea on and then finish my sermon, before going to the prayer meeting tonight. I’ll pick one up tomorrow while you’re at school. How does that sound?”
Lara grumbled. “But the lady isn’t busy.”
“I know, but Daddy is. I’ll get one tomorrow.”
“All wight.” She waved to Cassie and then looked at Jack. “Do they sell mummies in there, too?”
Jack did a double take. “Sell mummies?”
Lara nodded as they started walking again. “Evewyone in my class has a mummy ’cept me. Emma has two. If you buy me one, then I won’t be the odd one out anymowe.”
Jack’s heart broke again. “You have a mummy.”
“She lives in heaven with Jesus, and I never knew her. I want one that lives with us. What about the lady in the shop?”
“You can’t buy people, princess. And even if you could, there are rules pastors have to follow.”
“Like the no hugging one?”
“Just like the no hugging one. If God wants you to have a new mummy and me to have a new wife, then He’ll bring the right lady along.”
Is this You telling me it’s time to move on, Lord? If so then please lead me to the right woman. A Godly woman, with a solid relationship with You. One who’ll help me in my ministry here, complement me, and love me—but one who will also accept and love Lara, even though she won’t be her child.