The nausea almost undid him, but Rhee knew if he upchucked with duct tape over his mouth, he’d aspirate and die. So with every fiber of will, he held back the impulse.
Somehow, he had to rid himself of the blindfold to figure out just where he was—but carefully, so as to control the mighty urge to hurl. The fumes told him he was in a garage or garden shed with a gas lawnmower nearby, and stretching a little, as gentle as he could, the back of his head finally touched what likely was the pull to a drawer. Catching the edge of the blindfold to it, he easily slid the fabric down to his neck.
Even with his blurry vision, a ribbon of daylight showed beneath the door of the windowless shed. At least he didn’t have to dance in the dark. Hands bound with tape, he wiggled his feet to find them looser inside his boots than if he’d been walking. Yep, that business of getting dragged up and down gravel roads had actually helped. He tried to force the fuzzy events of the assault into his ragged mind as he used a crate to help jack his boots from his legs. He always kept a knife in there.
Slowly, he scrunched his feet toward his hands to push the knife to his fingers. Unsnapping the leather case wasn’t a chore, and soon he’d sawed through his sticky prison.
Standing up was the next challenge, and he clenched his teeth. Only in the movies did a beat-up guy get to his feet in a nanosecond ready to take on a horde of Huns. Head injuries were bad, and they hurt.
He paused to finally release the misery inside his gut and shuffled to the door only to find it locked. That didn’t matter much. His magic key and silicone spray had gotten him out of worse pickles than this. Although his efforts did take several attempts. His fingers felt numb. Finally, the door opened.
Nikki’s. He finally recalled in full where his attacker had waylaid him, had mentioned he was no killer, had known the lovebirds were gone.
Heard him say he and his girl—Caffey—would be long gone. Rhee’s nerves all but fried into one. His girl? So who was this guy? The groomsman who had eyes for her? Size was about right. Rhee forced his brain to recall the toast at the wedding, to see if the voice was the same.
But the camera in her apartment? Zak’s cousin wouldn’t be a stalker. Such a set-up was sophisticated and expensive. For all these months, Rhee had suspected the Carlito Cartel had been after Caffey, too. They weren’t legit, and his well-heeled clients in New York wouldn’t associate with them, but they might be up to no good all on their own. But titillation wasn’t their game.
But was it possible Everett wasn’t really dead? A chill bounced down Rhee’s back. Maybe Everett had simply needed time to sort things out, invent a new identity, leave his old life behind. Regretting he’d left his beautiful wife behind. An obsessive husband who wanted to find his wife might like to watch live feeds of her in the meantime before it was safe to venture from his lair.
The chill turned into a fire of rage, and Rhee knew then same as he knew who killed JFK.
Everett Bedford Bradford was alive.
Already pounding painfully, his heart began to race so fast he thought he’d pass out again. He forced deep breaths from his chest muscles.
Seeing Caffey’s car in the driveway, he almost wept in relief. With his phone destroyed, he had no way to reach her and thankfully, she hadn’t left for work yet.
Another memory niggled. His phone had been ringing when he’d been attacked. Nikki’s landline. That gladdened his heart.
The puppies whined in a lazy way from the back yard as he stumbled to the front door. Calling out and pounding his fists against the door had his head nearly coming off his neck to begin with, then, as he realized she wasn’t home, his heart fell to his feet.
Had Bradford already left with her? Dread dashed up and down his aching spine.
He’d left his truck across from her place. He had to find the strength to hobble there, to drive to the Brew Basket, to find and warn her. To keep her safe.
Reality struck him. To get the police if...if he didn’t.
His eyes fuzzed and his stomach roiled.
Two cops hunkered at his truck, and a housewife still in her bathrobe wrung her hands. Seemed like he was seeing them through a haze.
“The car’s been here all night. I don’t know. A peeping Tom?” the lady cackled.
“Relax, Irma. It’s a public street. But it is trash day. I’ll write a parking ticket if it isn’t gone by noon.”
Rhee tried to call out, but the words stuck in his throat. He needed water, bad.
“Then who’s that scumbag?” The lady pointed and shrieked. “He doesn’t live around here. Why, he’s stumbling like he’s drunk.”
“No scumbag.” One officer held back the fired-up old gal as the other one came to check Rhee out.
“Officer, I need...” Rhee couldn’t help it; he tumbled over and threw up.
“This isn’t any scumbag,” The cop said. “It’s Zak’s friend Rhee. I met him at the wedding. And he’s hurt bad. Let’s get an ambulance.”
“No. I’m awright.” Emptying his stomach truly had helped, and he stood straight. “Get Caffey. Caffey Matthews. She’s in danger.”
“What? We just bought coffee from her an hour ago.”
“She’s in danger!” Rhee forced strength into every cell of his body and rubbed his pounding head. “I gotta get to her.”
“You need to get to a doctor, sir.” The cop insisted as he fiddled with his phone, but Caffey in the hands of the man who’d already caused so much chaos in her life energized Rhee like no stimulant ever could.
Locking his knees in an upright stance, Rhee could actually focus enough to read the officer’s name badge. “Ned, we gotta get going. Now”
Rhee dug in his pocket for his keys. “You can come or not, Ned. But I’m on my way.”
“Get in the cruiser,” Ned ordered. “You can refuse medical treatment if you want, but no way will I let you get behind the wheel of a moving vehicle. We’ve got flashing lights and sirens.”
At the coffee shop, the manager shrugged, but worry glazed his eyes. “She took a break. Said she needed to check Nikki’s dogs. Things had slowed. Caffey’s a good worker. It wasn’t an unreasonable request.”
“Well, how long ago?” Ned asked.
Before the manager could answer, an old man spoke from his chair at a tiny table. “Twenty minutes if that. I came back for a second lobster claw. Couple blocks from here, I saw her get into a car with a dapper fellow. She was disheveled somehow. I just figured she was done with her shift and gone jogging. But what do I know? I’m just passing through.”
“What kind of car?” Ned asked.
The old man’s face twisted in thought. “Chevy. Light blue.”
“Make? Old? New?” The second officer asked. His nametag read “Krell.”
“Not new, not too old, though. Nothing fancy. Sorry. All I got was the Chevy logo.” The old man lost himself in deep thought for a moment. “Something funny, though.”
“What?” Rhee almost snarled.
“Taillights were busted up, I guess. I remember silver tape all over both of them.”
Rhee tightened his fingers against the flesh of his thigh so tight that even through his jeans, he knew he’d leave bruises.
“What’s up, Rhee?” Ned asked, “I’m reading something bad in your moves.”
Rhee held back a snarl. “Means he’s got her in the trunk and doesn’t want her digging her way out.”
“Aw, nuts.” Krell’s jowls shook.
“All right then.” Rhee tossed the cops a stiff gaze although his aching head had him start seeing double. “Ned, APB. Now. And get a picture of Everett Bedford Bradford out there, too.”
“That fancy tycoon? He’s dead and gone.”
“Don’t you believe it,” Rhee ground out the words, fear clamped so tight around his heart he couldn’t breathe. “And get a police chopper in the air.” Before Ned or Krell could protest, he snapped. “Trust me. I’ll pay for it.”
****
Locked in the trunk of the car!
Caffey battled to stay calm, to breathe normally, to hold down panic. To conserve air. The compartment wasn’t air tight, but heat and hyperventilation could kill. Lord, keep me safe, she begged. But even knowing He was at her side, she had to figure out what to do by herself.
Breathe deep, slow. Breathe deep, slow. Amazingly, she did know what to do. Everett had borne a pathological fear that one day, either one of them might be kidnapped and held to ransom. Now, he was the abductor. Her lip quivered, and she swallowed tears.
Scrunched into a bundle of bones and hot, tightened skin, she widened her eyes in the darkness to try to detect a glow-in-the-dark-handle. Spirits deflating, she understood the car wasn’t a late model with a required trunk release. Just in case, she groped with her fingers to try for a toggle switch or button.
Nothing. Her heart flew into her throat, and she concentrated on easing the pain in her cramped shoulders. Maybe, just maybe the backseat would fold down. Doubtful she’d find a release in the trunk, she explored anyway with her fingertips, then unsuccessful, tried to unwind her legs enough to push the seat down. It didn’t give a centimeter.
Panic started to roil, but she refused to let it. A Psalm of David dashed through her mind. Keep my soul and deliver me...for I put my trust in Thee. The words had saved her before, too many times to count, and a smidge of relief skittered through her. The Lord wouldn’t let her face this alone.
She forced her mind back to Everett’s safety instructions.
Look for a trunk release cable. Although such a device was activated from the driver’s seat, she dug under the carpet along the driver’s side in hope, a faint one, that she might find the cable. No. She couldn’t take time for disappointment and scooped her hands under the carpet for the tire jack. Set it up and she might be able to pump the jack and open the trunk.
But of course Everett had thought of this, too, and emptied the trunk of all tools.
Drenched in sweat, eager for ventilation, she gave up her search, gave in to God. Claustrophobia clawed at her, and she prayed harder to stave it
“Get in the trunk,” Everett’s order pounded in her head again. “I won’t tie you up. You’re my wife, and I won’t harm you.”
My wife. The title made Caffey’s skin crawl once again in her dark prison. She’d been a widow for fifteen months. Rubbing her arms against the sensation of icy invisible fingers abated some of the heat. Elbows scraped in the tight confines. She forced a memory of Rhee’s warm gentle touch. Where was he? Why hadn’t he answered his phone last night? Surely things would be different now.
She gulped.
It couldn’t mean—could it—that Everett had gotten to him, too? Hot terror swamped her. After all, Everett had said something about Rhee spying on her. That can’t have gone down easy for a jealous man. Her spine skittered once more. Just who was Rhee? The business card swam behind her eyelids in the darkness, but criminals didn’t usually advertise, did they?
Oh, Rhee? Caffey’s heart pummeled with a new unease, but she couldn’t let go of the last shred of trust she had left. Rhee was smart. He was tough. He wasn’t dead. No, he wasn’t. And he had to be a good guy because Everett certainly was the bad one.
Well, she wasn’t going to wallow and wait for death. Or worse, life with Everett. The Santa Barbara airport was under an hour away, and she couldn’t waste time. Somehow, she had to attract the attention of someone outside this car.
Thank God for small mercies that Everett hadn’t tied her up. She needed to push out the brake lights, and tried again to de-pretzel her legs to get her feet in the other direction. She was like a full-term baby squished in a hard womb.
Nausea whirled suddenly, and Caffey realized Everett wasn’t on any main sort of highway to Santa Barbara, not with the winding swerves and hills he was taking too fast. Brakes screeched extra-loud in her ears, and she couldn’t stop her sinking spirits. Father, Thy will be done… Some of the private lanes leading to ranches or through olive groves weren’t even marked. How could he know where to go? He wasn’t from around here. But of course. Her heart tanked. GPS. Geocoding services. The works. Cyberspace kept nothing hidden. She knew that well.
Fingernails broke as she tried to pry off the brake light panel, triumph turning to adrenalin when it popped off. She tried hard, with every ounce of energy, to kick the lights through. Somehow she’d signal to another driver or passerby by extending a foot or hand. Even if it was a lonesome unmarked road. She refused to think that thought again that nobody else was around for miles.
Father, You’re my shield and my buttress. My ever-present Help in trouble.
But the lights stuck in their sockets like they’d been glued in. Despairing, she ripped at the wires to disconnect them. Maybe, just maybe, Everett would be pulled over because his lights didn’t work.
Yeah. Caffey snorted. Because a lonely, back-country road would be swarming with patrol cars. But everything was all out of her hands, and in God’s. Nothing more could she do.
Keep my soul and deliver me...for I put my trust in Thee, she beseeched Him for about the millionth time in the last fifteen months. Her world started to turn black, but something kept her awake. A whirring chop-chop of a sound begged to be heard over the crunch of tires and squeal of brakes.
Both terror and hope thrashed in her head. Helicopter! Police…or thugs ready to whisk her quick to a waiting plane.
Then hope fled. Thugs, of course. No one normal could possibly have a clue where she was. Last thing she’d done was ask for a break to check the dogs. The rough carpet raked her skin as she tensed in a new sort of hopelessness. The Lord always knew best. If this was His will, well, He’d give her strength to face it.
The car slammed to a stop, and she slid hard to the back edge of the trunk, smacking the top and bottom of her head as it bounced. Well, whatever was going to happen was going to happen now. Her throat closed. Father, Thy will be done…
“Open the trunk now, Bradford, then get your hands up.” The voice didn’t quite sound thug-like.
Outside, Everett used the soft, deceptively smooth voice that had convinced her to marry him. “All right, officer. But I have to use the key. It’s not automatic.”
With a whoosh of air, the lid popped, and he hauled her roughly to her feet. Legs too numbed to stand on their own, she stumbled against him, gulping the freshness of pure sweet air. Gone was Everett’s softness and smoothness, the arm around her now was harsh. He shoved the knife against her neck this time and in his left hand he brandished a gun. Struggle was pointless.
“I suggest you let us complete our little country drive, officers,” said Everett Bedford Bradford in the tone that had brought hardened CEO’s to heel. “Because if you try to take me, she dies.”
Her heartbeat trilled. Caffey wanted to remind him he wasn’t a killer, but the sharp tip scratching her neck proved otherwise, and her heart broke like it never had before. Everett could kill her, and Rhee—whoever and whatever he had been—was gone from her.
Pain clogged her pores as noxious as Everett’s fancy handmade scent filled her nose, and she tried to get her bearings. A rifle pointed from the county sheriff’s copter. Another deputy stood, with legs apart and loaded handgun, about twenty feet away. The wind in a pair of live oaks seemed to scream.
“Come on, Everett.” She struggled to speak, but her voice didn’t shake. “If you hurt me, they’ll shoot you. It’s over. Give it up.”
He chuckled, but his attention floundered for a second as a patrol car dashed down a little vine-covered rise, shuddered to a halt as the car doors opened. Officers Ned Jacobson and his partner catapulted from the cruiser’s front seat and Rhee Ryland from the back.
“Rhee!” She couldn’t help her joyful shout, then realized the costly mistake. Everett grunted in displeasure, and the knife tip dug in deeper. Hot drips of blood sloshed on her hand. Something her kickboxing instructor had drilled into her head sparked to life now: she made her body dead weight in Everett’s arm, slowly drawing up her legs in an attempt to bring him down with her, or at least get him off balance. She slid hard, past his waist when he released her, and plopped on the ground. His gun rang out, and in a split second, so did three others.
Everett fell at her feet, and, for the second time in her life, died. Pity, remorse…nothing mattered except relief. She’d already wept, screamed, and grieved fifteen months ago.
“Rhee!” Suddenly finding her legs again, she staggered from the bleeding head of her late husband and straight into Rhee’s arms. He held her so tight that whatever breath she had left was long gone. “Oh, Rhee. You’re alive!” She pulled back from the embrace just long enough to see his battered head. “What? Did Everett do this to you?” Her voice shook.
“I’ll be fine. And it’s over now.”
Shudders wracked her, and Rhee squeezed tighter. “How did you all happen to find me?” she asked in a tone she could hardly hear.
“The old guy buying lobster claws saw Everett get you into his car. Come on. Let’s get you sitting down. Shock can do funny things.”
She nodded, holding down the bile. A man had been shot to death in front of her, a man she’d once loved. But it wasn’t grief. She’d mourned Everett once, and it wouldn’t happen again. Holding her hand, Rhee led her to a clump of boulders, and she sank against the largest one. The heat from the rock seeped into her bones, helping to stop the roiling chills.
“Rhee, you need medical attention.” Even her voice shook as he sat down next to her.
“I reckon you do, too.” He pointed to the blood drops on her shirt, and the slice on her neck. Up to now, she hadn’t felt a pain, but suddenly, pain dug into her. She clenched her teeth, Rhee took her hand far more gently than she grappled his, and said, “We’ll get it done soon as the officers take care of this mess.”
She remembered the business card. “Rhee, who are you? Why are you here? How did you know?”
He sighed, deep from the gut. “Aw, Caffey I’ve always known.”
“What do you mean?” Her heart sank to her feet, and her knees turned to water. Had she once again fallen for a charming con man?
He narrowed his eyes. “Well, not that Everett was still alive, mind you. But I knew…about you. That’s why I came to Rancho Lorena. Darlin’, it’s a real long story. But I didn’t expect to fall for you along the way.”
So he had spied on her. For a moment, goose bumps raced across her skin, but reassurance settled her almost immediately. Reassurance from God. Faithful are the wounds of a friend…If God hadn’t sent Rhee, she would be kidnapped or dead.
“Well, I’m glad you did. Because I wouldn’t be alive if you hadn’t. You can tell me about it later. Because, well, I did the same”
“Did what?”
“Fell for you.”
His eyebrows rose. “So last night when you called…”
“I wanted one last cup of coffee with you. It killed me, you leaving town. So I called the Painted Cave to try to reach you. When they said you’d never been there, I didn’t know what to do.” Her knees weakened again, and she tensed her back harder against the boulder. “Had somebody duped me again? But for some reason, you’d left that business card. Somehow I felt I could trust you.”
“Well, that’s good to know.” Gently he leaned down and dropped a kiss at the top of her head. “I was really down because I knew you didn’t really have a play date with your landlady. But just as I got to the phone…”
Caffey understood at once. “Everett got to you. So tell me. Are you undercover or something?”
“Private investigation and surveillance.”
A chill brushed her skin. “Well, that explains a lot. But who? Why?”
Rhee’s lips firmed. “Hmm. Everett stole from some mighty powerful people. Decent people who reckoned you know something and could help them get their money back.” He smiled, grim. “I wasn’t a hit man. Just was to find out where you were and turn it all over to DOJ.”
“I really don’t know anything, Rhee. I never had a clue what Everett was up to.
He took her hand. “I believe you. They will, too..”
She rested her head against him. “He did start a couple of sham businesses in my name. For tax purposes, he said. You all can start looking there, I suppose. But Rhee, it wasn’t any upper crust New Yorkers who threatened me after Everett’s death.”
“I’m suspecting the Carlito Cartel. An Interpol sting operation just landed the family behind bars for a very long time. You can feel safe now.”
With a nod, Caffey kept her gaze averted from Everett.
“With me,” he said gently. Then his grin brightened. “I’ve been thinking about giving up all this cloak and dagger stuff. I got a burr under my saddle about going back to my ranch. What do you think of that?”
“I’m thinking…if I had a ranch, there’s no place else I’d rather be. Come to think of it, I do—at least my parents do!” She snuggled against his shoulder and breathed a silent thanksgiving prayer so fervent she could almost touch it. She now could have it all Mom. Dad. Rhee.
“That God of ours is a mighty good God, isn’t He?” Rhee’s words nestled in her hair where his lips had been. “Looks like I found Him again in the nick of time. Say, how about after you get up to that ranch of yours to your folks, you come home with me? The Bar R could sure use a woman’s touch.”
“Why, Mr. Ryland? Is this an indecent proposal?” She teased as joy blended with the sunlight on her shoulders and warmed her through.
“Not a chance, Miz Matthews. When time’s right, it’ll be a proposal right and proper.”
“Well, in that case, Mr. Ryland…” Her free hand sizzled from the heat of his cheek as she maneuvered his face to hers. Blood pounded, but this time not from shock or terror. Before clasping her close against his heart, she told him, true. “…in that case, I accept.”
Epilogue
Promise, Colorado
One year later
“I knew I’d get my payback.” Nikki Pender giggled as she waggled the pink polka dot stiletto under Caffey’s nose.
Caffey chuckled. “Well, lucky for us both, we wear the same size shoe. It seemed fitting somehow, you wearing the same shoes as my maid of honor that I wore as yours.”
“That was quite a day, wasn’t it?” Nikki asked, soft, and Caffey knew very different sets of memories washed over them.
“That it was.” Caffey squeezed her friend’s hand. “The day that just happened to change both our lives.”
While Nikki unpacked, Caffey peered out the window of one of the guest rooms of the Bar R ranch. She trembled with both excitement and nerves. The wedding was tomorrow, and even though she’d kept the ceremony small and simple, Rhee wanted a big wing-ding of a reception. Well, her mom was here now, and she was the sort who could have directed the evacuation of the Titanic with far better results.
Following Caffey’s gaze, Nikki barked out a laugh and pointed. “We haven’t been here ten minutes, and Zak’s already on a horse.”
“With Rhee around, how could it be otherwise?”
Down below, the sprawling, well-tended ranch hunkered beneath summer-brown foothills and silver tipped mountains. Almost as if God was drawing it closer to heaven. In the past year, Rhee had worked hard at his dad’s side to fix up the careworn place and improve the stock. That day, that dreadful day, her heart had bloomed full strength when she understood Rhee longed for open spaces and tall skies just as she did.
For the first six of those months, Caffey had reconnected with her family in Montana, soaking up their love and understanding, emptying herself of shock and letting God help her sort through bad memories. The pilot of the private plane had gladly turned over Everett’s laptop and PDA’s, and folks with even better techs-pertise than Rhee had extracted much of the information they sought. Witness Protection had offered to make her secrets official, just in case the cartel ever had other plans, but with all her financial dealings made public, she hadn’t felt the need. She had nothing of Everett’s and didn’t know where anything was.
Lately, she’d rented a room in a nearby town and worked again in a small restaurant. Close by Colorado standards, she grinned. Sunset Hills was nearly an hour away. But as long as Rhee was in her world, nothing else mattered.
Her heart pittered just thinking of him. Tomorrow night…
Nikki scrunched her eyes looking out the window at the Bar R. “Where is your beloved, by the way?”
Footfalls on the stairs started heartbeats of eagerness. A grin bracketed Rhee’s handsome mouth as he came in through the open door, and Caffey’s heart pounded with joy.
“I came to invite you lovely ladies out for a trail ride with me and Zak.” He raised two fingers to the brim of his hat.
“Zak and me,” Caffey corrected automatically to his bright shout of laughter.
“See, Miz Pender? That teacher lady gig of hers still hasn’t worn off. I am already under her thumb.” He raised his hand to slide down Caffey’s hair, curly now and back to its natural color. But Caffey she would remain, because Caffey was the woman she had become. “And there’s no place else I’d rather be.” Her breath caught at his words and his simple touch.
“The ranch is stunning, Rhee.” Nikki’s smile dazzled. “And I for one would love a tour.”
“That’s good, Nikki, and thanks kindly. You and me, see, we need a good chat.”
Although Nikki’s brow furrowed, Caffey knew well what was coming next. A face-to-face. Phone calls and texting just didn’t cut it when forgiveness and apology were involved. Although Caffey had long forgiven Rhee for his subterfuge, she anguished that others might not. He’d lied forever and onward to Zak’s parents, wedding guests and friends. Even Pastor Glade.
“What about?”
“I took advantage,” Rhee muttered but he looked Nikki straight on. “Took advantage of your wedding day. It was business, but it was still wrong. All I can do is ask forgiveness.”
“Why, Rhee.” Nikki dropped a dress back into the suitcase and came to stand in front of him, hands on hips and mouth open in surprise. “There’s no question. Forgiving as He forgave us is the Lord’s command,” she said gently. “And it is granted, of course. Mom and Pop Pender have already done so. They figure anybody who makes Caffey happy is good to go.”
“Good to go where?” Rhee teased, tanned face turning burgundy across his carved cheekbones. “Rancho Lorena for Thanksgiving or something? I was a pretty bad boy, Nikki.”
“Well, it was your job.” Nikki stepped back with a shrug, “and you’re welcome for Thanksgiving or anything else. Zak and I look at it like this. If it weren’t for you, and the reasons you came to Rancho Lorena, Caffey would have been taken against her will. Who even knows where Everett’s private jet would have landed, none of us the wiser? God’s got His Hands all over this.” She nodded firmly and held out both hands to him. After he covered them with his, Nikki drew him close. Caffey’s heart melted. Life was so complete she didn’t have enough hours in the day to express her thanksgiving to God.
Although Everett dying twice would always be hard to take, Caffey had found means to forgive him as well. Rhee’s burgeoning faith had set quite an example, and the darkness clawed its way into her head less and less.
“Now how about you two lovebirds excuse me while I get into my riding clothes?” Nikki asked, bringing Caffey to the present. Caffey breathed deep, contentment filling her. Nothing healed as well as a hard ride through the hills holding the ranch close, the rays of sunshine brushing the aspen like shadows of heaven and warming one’s soul.
“Meet us downstairs in ten,” Rhee said, taking Caffey’s hand. On the landing of the stairs, he took her tight in his arms, the place she most liked to be, and he touched his lips to hers. His outdoorsy taste of rainwater and sunshine had her knees weak and her heart thudding. Then he held her at arm’s length, peering down with his intense squint. “I know seeing Zak and Nikki again might let the demons get at you again. But just hold on. Without all of that, without God’s bigger hand in everything, you and me, well, we wouldn’t have gotten together. And I…” His gaze turned down, and his cheeks turned auburn. “And I likely wouldn’t have found Him.”
Caffey held on close. She understood that trusting in God had been a hard concept for a man who had lived many years without Him.
“I know, sweetheart,” she assured him. “God knows what He’s doing. He’s got His hand in the middle of it when we sort things out. I have no choice but to trust Him until the day I die and join Him in Heaven.”
“I feel the same, darlin’. Without Him, I’d be nobody.”
“And with Him, I’m going to be Mrs. Rhee Ryland.”
He dropped another kiss on her mouth, a flirty one that didn’t linger. They had guests to attend. “And I can’t think of anybody else I’d want you to be.”
Thank you for purchasing this White Rose Publishing title. For other inspirational stories of romance, please visit our on-line bookstore at www.whiterosepublishing.com.
For questions or more information, contact us at titleadmin@whiterosepublishing.com.
White Rose Publishing
Where Faith is the Cornerstone of Love™
www.WhiteRosePublishing.com
May God’s glory shine through
this inspirational work of fiction.
AMDG