7

The spikes of Rocky peaks already showed silver, but Mary Grace shivered for other reasons on the way back to Hearts Crossing. At least Scott had the radio turned up loud. Cuddling into herself for comfort, she watched aspen leaves shudder in the wind, a scene that didn’t help at all.

But the hills, draped in the fiery colors of fall, began to wrap her cozily. And her heart did a now-familiar thump when the ranch came into view in the distance as they drove down a ridge. The safe welcoming house. The healthy horses content in their corrals. Oh, that black dot might be the Cowboy dashing after a squirrel. She grinned until her heart hitched in grief.

She’d ruined everything.

Oh, how at home she’d felt, how accepted. While her newfangled love for Scott would never die, she knew he’d never accept it. Oh, he might accept Creighton. She knew more than ever he was a man of heart and compassion. But he’d never accept her.

Her lack of faith, her lack of trust. Even though she believed her reasons were sound, she’d hurt him and not given him a chance. Lord, in Your goodness, hear my prayer.

“Scott, I never wanted it to get like this. I’m so sorry.” She offered another apology into his stiff silence. One angry bounce of his hands on the steering wheel, and she stayed quiet.

Like a grasshopper on the wing from the hills, a helicopter in the distance grew bigger and louder. Doyle Calhoun? The big black bug hovered over the main road until landing in a lot well enough away from the animals.

“Is that Mr. Calhoun?” She had to ask even though hesitant to inquire anything of the fuming Scott. Staying silent would be, well, weird. As they neared the ranch, she saw cars, cars, cars.

Whatever the hub-bub was, she didn’t belong, and her wounded heart wrung itself out even more. Out of place. An outsider, now more than ever. Letting a room, albeit rent-free, and sharing meals with a secure, happy family didn’t make her part of it. She’d been a fool to think otherwise.

Even more foolish to give her heart.

“Yes, and my goodness.” Scott slowed to watch the debarking, his voice tinged both with joy and concern. “There’s Christy. Getting out of the copter. Whew, I sure hope everything’s all right.” Voice tense, he stopped by the side of the road, and his sister-in-law, hair flying as the rotors stilled, ran to him.

He grappled her close, and Mary Grace withered even more, recalling her own perfect moments in his arms. Not caring about her nosiness, she lowered her window so she could hear.

“I did my presentation at the convention this morning, and I just miss Kenn too much,” Christi told her brother-in-law. “I managed to get on a stand-by flight.”

“Well, it can’t be a surprise. Doyle? All these cars…”

“Oh, Daisy’s throwing me some kind of welcome back party. A celebration for my big award. And Doyle, here. Well, once Elaine found out I was on my way, she suckered the poor man into sparing me two or three shuttle flights.”

The big “Last Real Rancher” guffawed in the warm, deep, down-home way Mary Grace had enjoyed at Sunday dinner. Whatever happened between her and Scott, she rejoiced in Elaine Martin’s luck.

“Nonsense. Had business up Denver way to begin with. Couldn’t resist picking up such a pretty passenger and getting her home quicker. Let’s get to the house.”

Goodness, the older guy was blushing! Mary Grace grinned a grin. But maybe she could slink away during the greetings and run ahead to the sanctuary of her room.

But no.

“Come in. I got room. Gotta get you to Kenn. And Elaine.” With a sly grin, Scott indicated his stretch-cab. Indeed, a half-mile remained down the long drive to the house. And he had no choice but to be polite. “Doyle, you likely remember Mary Grace from Sunday. Christy, she’s Kenn’s substitute while he’s recuperating. Mary Grace Gibson.”

Only Mary Grace heard the unhappy inflection he put on the last word, and her spirits tangled into a miserable knot. Christy engaged her in a hearty hug no matter they’d just met.

“Of course! Kenn’s talked about the great job you’re doing. Thanks for helping him out.” Christy Martin’s face glowed. “What a load off. I hope your days are going well!”

Other than Keith Murphy, but that was a sorrow Mary Grace alone must bear. “They are. Kenn’s got great classes. And everything so well organized. I want him well again, but at the same time, it’ll be hard to leave.”

Christy’s smile was true. “Hopefully some other door will open.”

“I hope so.” Because it’ll be hard to leave. The last short distance before Scott parked the truck allowed no time for small talk but enough time for Mary Grace to say it to herself, again and again.

It’ll be hard to leave. It’ll be hard to leave.

“Thanks for picking me up,” she said to Scott, dully, grabbing her things before he could and leaving his side in a dash. She headed up the porch to hurry to her room.

“Mary Grace!” Kenn called out from the fireplace, still hooked to his ice machine and electrodes. “How was your day?”

She gulped back tears, but said nothing untrue. “Good overall. Those freshmen rock. And a lot of A’s and B’s on the vocabulary test. Yay.”

“Good to hear. You’re joining us for the party, right? At Pike and Daisy’s? Christy’s coming home early from her convention. We’re celebrating her award.”

The last thing she wanted to do should have been the first. If Scott weren’t so angry with her. And with good reason.

“Not coming home early. She’s already here!” Mary Grace couldn’t hold back. He deserved his joy.

Kenn started as if he were ready to bound to his feet, then chortled when he couldn’t.

“She’s right behind me. But about the party. Thanks, but I don’t know. I’m beat, to be frank.” Then she tried to tease. “I don’t know how you teachers do it day after day.” Sudden inspiration hit. “And I think I’d like to go to singles Bible study.”

“Well, think about it. I’d love for you to get to know Christy. And you can make up for it tomorrow night. We have family devotions every Wednesday evening.”

“OK. Maybe.” She heard the helicopter herd come in behind her and, unable to help herself, tossed Scott one last over-the-shoulder glimpse. Hoped he was coming after her.

He didn’t as much as raise his head.

She wished her guestroom wasn’t so comfy, so homey. The only thing she could think to do was call Creighton. Gale Sosa, who ran the home, was a deeply committed Christian and a compassionate nurse, but at this point, routine was paramount for Creighton. Disruption might confuse him.

As the phone rang, her blood pounded, turned cold.

“This is Mary Grace Gibson. Is it possible…to put Creighton on the line? Just for a second?”

“Hi Mary Grace. Gale here. I hope there’s no emergency?” The voice was full of concern.

“No. I’m just lonely for him, having a bad day. I know he doesn’t speak.” She plunged ahead. “But I could hear him laugh. And he does use basic hand signals. You could explain them. Please. We can make it work.”

“Of course. He’s just finishing his physical therapy. Let me see what I can do. You’re still on for a weekend visit, right?”

“Yes. Saturday. I’m teaching right now. Fridays no longer work.”

Ah, when she heard her boy’s mumbles, all her troubles melted away, at least for ten minutes. Whether Creighton’s brain connected that the voice through the phone belonged to her, well, she could only hope.

“He’s signaling mom,” Gale said with glee after Creighton fussed to be done. Nothing held his attention for long. Mary Grace’s heart soared. “He knows it’s you. And he’s smiling. I hope this makes your day better.”

“Oh, it does.” If you only knew how much. “Thanks, Gale.”

Drained, she collapsed on the bed, heart thumping in anticipation of Scott when a knock on the door jarred the silence.

“Come on in.”

Kelley Martin walked inside at Mary Grace’s invitation.

As she quickly sat up, she hoped her hair at least partially hid her falling face. “Hi, Kelley. What’s up?”

From downstairs, sounds of glee clamored at the happy reunions. Well, she’d just had a happy reunion of her own, with Creighton. Let Scott pout.

“I hate to bother your nap, but please come to the party tonight. I’ve even taken off work at the Butterbean.” She pointed out the window. “That’s Pike and Daisy’s house right there. See? Log sides? Green shutters? It’s close enough to walk to.”

Scott’s pretty, fresh-faced freckled sister babbled gently for a few seconds as if giving Mary Grace time to formulate her response. “Pa left the boys each twenty acres for their own ‘homesteads.’ Pike put up a modular house at the edge of his lot just in time for their wedding last Christmas.”

As if by magic, Mary Grace’s gaze landed on Kelley’s left hand where an engagement ring gleamed. Ah, yes. Jason the geneticist.

“I don’t know…”

“It’s a party for Christy. It would mean a lot to Kenn. OK?” Her eyes, flecked with many shades of browns, almost greens, brightened, coy. “Scott, too.”

Oh, no. Not her, too. Mary Grace’s heart had been so light this morning when Hooper had alluded to her and Scott’s relationship on the way to school. This morning? It seemed eons ago.

“I don’t know,” Mary Grace said once more, this time ending on a sigh. She could use a friend. “Not Scott. I don’t know about that. We, um, we just had a big squabble.”

“Wanna talk?” Although she hesitated for a flash, Kelley made herself at home on the side of the bed next to her.

Mary Grace shrugged. “I don’t know.” Then she laughed. “I’m supposed to be an English teacher. You’d think I could come up with something else and stop repeating myself. But maybe.”

“I know I’m his sister, and I know him pretty well. But I’m also a girl who knows what a new relationship can be like. Jason and I had tons to hash out.”

“Well, not a disabled child.” Mary Grace had meant to think the words so hearing them out loud startled her.

Startled Kelley, too. “What?”

Mary Grace paused to stare out the window, and Kelley waited politely for her to be ready to continue. The ranch lived a breathing entity all its own, enfolded by snow-crystalled mountains strung with a necklace of autumn-bright hills. Contented horses pawed their corral, cattle bunched together in the pastures, and laughter pealed from down below. How had Hearts Crossing Ranch come to feel like a true home in just a few days? Her mood darkened. No matter she felt the love and compassion of these deeply Christian people, whom she’d known would accept Creighton without question. Scott’s anger at her lack of trust wasn’t likely to quickly abate.

“My son Creighton is severely disabled. And yes. I don’t routinely mention it.” There was no reason to mince words now. The quilted bedcover crumpled beneath her fingers. “He’s just started in a group home. I admit…the separation has killed me, but frankly, it’s best for him. Best even for me. I meant to tell Scott.” Her gaze held Kelley’s, imploring. “To take him to meet Creighton this weekend. I meant to tell him today. But it didn’t go down right. And he’s furious with me. I don’t even think I can face him. Or that he wants me to.”

“Mary Grace.” Kelley’s warm hand smoothed Mary Grace’s hair. “I know my brother. Scott cares about you, and deeply. And he’s great with kids of all kinds. That won’t matter.”

“Oh, I know that. What matters is I didn’t tell him. Until I was kind of forced to today. But Kelley…” She grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest, holding down the huge urge to bury her face in it. “I’ve seen what happens. Before. A man gets interested in me and finds out about Creighton and goes running off. I…wanted to bide my time. Make sure the time was right.” Her voice broke. “Now he thinks I don’t trust him. Don’t have faith in him. And nothing could be further from the truth. The moment I knew about Heather, and the therapy horse program he wants to set up, I knew. I knew. And I blew it.”

“Oh, no, no. Come here.” Kelley held her close for a second, then pushed back to look into her face. “OK. Some of this is on Scott. He has trust issues.”

Mary Grace pulled back farther. “I don’t want to stick my nose in them.”

“You’re not. This isn’t the first time I’ve helped along one of my brothers in the romance department. Just ask Kenn. And Bragg.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve all had our share of baggage. Christy lost her faith, struggling with her anger after a drunk driver killed her father. Kenn, well, you may not know, but he and Daisy once were pretty serious. She dumped him for another man. The same man who got Bragg into trouble with drugs. Kenn’s arch-enemy, Tony. Which is interesting in itself. Since now Tony appears interested in Hooper’s ex-wife who abandoned them when Ella was a baby. As for Bragg, I take a lot of credit for helping him and Tiffany along.”

“Noooo.”

“Yep. Point is, I kinda mentioned Kenn’s interest to Christy during their wagon train trip. In short, Kenn fixed his own broken faith because of Christy’s love, and Pike was able to look beyond Daisy’s past. Bragg and Tiffany, well, there’s not enough time right now, but me and Jason, between my loss of God when my restaurant failed, and Jason’s wing-nut upbringing, we had a big bag to unload.”

“I know nothing’s ever easy. But what does this have to do with Scott?”

“A couple of years ago, he was getting along great with a girl whose grandpa runs the auto shop in town. She even extended a two-week visit to the entire summer, and then some. I don’t exactly know what happened to her, but it was something terrible. Something she never could confide in Scott. And she just left him high and dry. In his heart and mind, what they had between them should have been strong enough to withstand anything. So he’s got that hanging around his neck, whether he had good reason or whether he should let it go.”

“Ah. So if I’d confided in him at first blush, he’d be OK.”

Kelley nodded. “Yep.”

Mary Grace’s mood darkened once more. “Well, too bad our time tables didn’t collide.”

“Yep, too bad,” Kelley said again as she stood and straightened her jeans and red sweater. “But every relationship worth anything takes some working out. Come to the party. Talk to Scott. Please?”

Pursing her lips, Mary Grace couldn’t help a wash of affection for the well-meaning sister. “So you don’t think I’m too old for your little brother?”

“Pshaw. I ‘m here because you’re the best thing to happen to him. And I never hesitate to interfere.” She grinned. “Now, rest a bit and come along.”

Mary Grace nodded. “OK. Count me in.” Of course she wanted to be with Scott, to talk things out. Work things out with every inch of her soul. But there was something to do first. As soon as Kelley left, she opened her Bible, and right where her grandmother’s hand-tatted cross bookmark lay, she found the verse that usually unclenched her jaw, stilled wars in her head, calmed the storms of her heart. John chapter fourteen, verse twenty-seven. My peace I give to you… Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

With a fervent prayer, she begged the Lord to rid her of troubles and fear.

****

All right. He wanted to be with her. He wanted to talk things out. Most of all, he wanted to meet Creighton. But Lori weighed down heavy on his shoulders as he fed the horses and checked the fly mask over Alamo’s sore eye. Lori and he had something, something good. Whether it would have grown permanent, he’d never know, because she hadn’t given them the chance. Hadn’t given him the chance to be the man who stood by his woman.

The party she’d gone to in Boulder, the rape…

Then again. His heart lightened. If he and Lori had gotten together, he wouldn’t have fallen in love with Mary Grace. And Lori was doing well…she’d told him herself last Christmas. As he curried Alamo, thoughts of Mary Grace, not Lori, ran through his head, thoughts of her strength in meeting a hard world on her own. Never had he heard her complain, never heard her badmouth Grant. Even with Keith Murphy, she’d been brave enough to handle the situation by herself.

His jaw clenched. She just hadn’t been brave enough to tell him about her son. What kind of basis was that for a long-term committed relationship? For that’s the only kind Scott would consider with the woman he loved. A long, healthy, happy life here at the ranch. She’d seemed to fit in right away. And as for Creighton, here he’d have a support system like none other.

People already committed to disability therapy. He sighed as he rubbed Alamo’s nose, sighed as he hung the brush on a hook, and sighed as he walked back to the house. Yep, he needed to talk, but ached for Mary Grace to make the first move. His ego could use the boost.

The spicy perfume she wore mixed with the chilled wind as he headed up the porch steps. She was sitting in an old Shaker-style rocking chair, spice wafting as she swayed. At her toes, the Cowboy moaned with a lazy blink at his master. Scott’s heart thudded at the sight of her.

“I’ve been watching you with Alamo,” she said. “You’re a natural, you know.”

He nodded, glad he hadn’t felt her gaze or he’d have gotten no chores done. Blood raced but he kept his voice calm. “I was born to wrangle. But once upon a time a pretty lady showed me the world of art.”

Her cheeks turned the colors of sunset, and he ached to kiss them. “I am glad for my part opening that door. And the horses get you out from behind the computer, get some sun on your face and exercise in your bones.”

“You got that right, pretty lady.” He nodded down at her, desperate for her but stiff and proud, too.

Without blinking, she gazed into his eyes. “Scott, I don’t want to mess up what we’ve got going, and I hope I haven’t. Have I?”

Her plea, his love for her melted him. Lightning sparked between their fingers as he took her hand and led her to a big log bench. As they sat down, their shoulders melded, and he heard her breath hitch. “I’m sorry. For today,” he said. “I had my reasons.” For a while he looked away, past the corral. “Got burned in the trust department once and it didn’t go down easy. But reckon you had your reasons, too.”

“I did. I do.” Then she took his hand and raised it to her cheek. “I’ve dated men who bail on me as soon as they hear about Creighton. I’ve learned to be cautious who I tell. Even among regular folks. I’m proud as punch of him, but I can’t bear the sad eyes. The unspoken gratitude it didn’t happen to them. It didn’t take long for me to know you were different.” Their gazes collided and his breath fired up. “But caution has become my middle name. I truly was going to tell you today. I’m not going to blame Keith Murphy for messing things up even though it wasn’t the time or place I wanted.”

In a dressy blue top and black jeans, she’d obviously changed for the party. Breath coming faster now, Scott prodded, hopeful. “Is now the time and place?”

“Yeah. My sob story won’t take long.” She grinned but he heard the tug in her voice.

“There’s nothing sob-story about you.” His fingers covered hers.

“Well, relationships are hard for parents with special needs children. The divorce rate is tragically high. Some dads can handle it, but in my case, Grant just shut down. He resented the time I had to spend with Creighton. Especially if he’d been on the road for games or training camp or endorsements.” She crossed her arms, and he laid his across her shoulder for comfort, warmth. For a longtime, she too looked out past the corral. “And I, well. I wasn’t innocent. I poured every second of my life into my son. Not very wifely.”

Then she gazed at him again, offering a smile. He read sure trust. “Sometimes Grant even expressed guilt that somehow we had caused it. But there was no rhyme or reason. Still, Grant was never convinced. He decided we’d never have another child together. When the final diagnosis came in, he just couldn’t handle it. And I, well, I had some denial of my own. I’d search out treatment or new therapy no matter how hackneyed or expensive.”

Her eyes misted, turned tragic. “To be honest, I spent every living second with Creighton. He needed me for the most basic needs, even as he grew up. Grant was the farthest thing from my mind whether he was home or not. And along the way, he met Marla.”

As Scott startled, she rushed on. “No. I don’t think he was physically unfaithful. But she caught his eye, and that was that.”

“But his own son…”

“He’s got healthy kids now. Out of sight, out of mind. But I must say he’s never balked at paying for Creighton’s needs.”

“That’s big of him,” Scott shook his head, almost in disbelief at a man abandoning the flesh of his body. Heather’s mom had mentioned something of the same.

Well, it was something Scott would never do as a father. Not with his heavenly Father at his side to help out.

As if thinking the same thought, Mary Grace tightened her fingers. “I couldn’t have made it without God,” she said. “Without my folks. Truth is, Grant takes care of Creighton financially. When my pre-nup settlement and equity ran out, I came back home. But Creighton is a big, strong boy. A big, strong baby boy without much coordination. Eating and swallowing are almost impossible tasks. And hygiene. For his physical as well as education needs, it was time for a group home. And for me to get back into a career of my own.”

She reached down and petted the Cowboy’s head, the dog moaning adoringly. Everything she’d said made perfect sense. If not for searching out a new professional path, they’d never have met again.

“I’m glad you’re here. And I look forward to meeting your son.” Maybe someday my son, too. The silent word brushed across his heart with longing. Recalling Heather, her sweetness and light, he couldn’t imagine feeling anything less for Creighton, the light in his mother’s eyes.

“Saturday.” Joy ran through her voice at a pace he could feel. “I’ll take you Saturday.”

“Maybe we can bring him back here for Sunday dinner?” Scott asked, hope rising.

Her pretty cheeks puffed in thought. “Maybe, but probably that’s a ways off. Routine is very important to him. But I know the time will come. When he gets to know you. My van with the hydraulic lift is stored at my folks’. He’s wheelchair bound, you know.”

“How about…horseback riding therapy?”

“I’d love the possibility. He’s gone swimming with dolphins. A great love of water is part of the syndrome. Music, too. We can check with his physical therapist. I bet we could ride double or something.” The joy and yes, the love on her face lit up like dawn. He recalled something she’d said in the classroom. Something about thinking she loved him…

But he still had some baggage of his own to unpack.

“Sounds amazing,” he said while he built up his courage.

“So you forgive me?”

“Forgive you for what? For doing what you believed best for your son? Anyway, Somebody already told me about forgiveness, and you, too. Somewhere in Ephesians. To be kind to each other. And forgive.”

“So how about some kindness?” She lifted her face, and he read everything coy. “With the four middle letters removed?”

“What?” His brain couldn’t deduce fast enough.

“Kiss, silly.”

As her lips posed, he resisted, just for a little while. After a peck, he said, “We can get to something better in a bit. If you can forgive me.”

“Already done.”

“Thing is. I need to tell you about her. Lori. Lori Lazaro. And why I behaved like I did.”

“No…”

“Yes. It’s called trust. And we both need to make sure we give it, do it. Expect it. If we…if we want a future together. I do, Mary Grace. Do you?”

“Oh, Scott, more than anything. I’m pretty sure I knew at the picnic last summer.” The setting sun glinted in her eyes.

“I think I knew then, too. We sure had something. But then, you know. Then you wouldn’t go out with me.”

Her cheek puffed out breath again. “Well, look at it. I was older. You’d been my student. And now you know about Creighton.”

“There’s also Lori.” He settled back against the hard bench, wishing he could tell her a fairytale instead. “She was here two summers ago from San Antonio, visiting her grandparents for two weeks. We knocked each other’s boots off. She decided to stay on, help with the housework, keep her gramps’ accounts at his body shop. Was I in love? Well, nothing like I felt for you from that first minute. But we had something.”

“What happened? You mentioned about….trust. Did she cheat on you?”

He shook his head. “No. She, uh... She left one weekend for Boulder with some gal-pals. That’s all. Just Saturday night. We had a date Sunday, but she stood me up. I never heard from her again. Nada. No phone call. No voice mail. Not even the chicken, easy stuff—a text or e-mail. Just gone.”

“Kidnapped? Did you call the police?”

“Well, I was frantic. But her grandparents said not to worry. That’s all they said.”

“Well, I guess you knew she wasn’t dead or abducted.”

“Yep. Last Christmas, she finally came back to Mountain Cove.” His mind wandered, hard with Mary Grace so near, but Lori’s visit and the pain she had endured back then had cracked his heart. “The girls had gone to a party on Saturday night. Lori woke up, no clothes…in some strange man’s bed and didn’t remember a thing.”

“My goodness. Drugged?”

He nodded. “By the time she stumbled home, her grandparents, very old country, were too embarrassed to call the police or get her medical care. They just sent her home to Texas.”

“What about her friends?”

“She didn’t tell them either. Her shame was so real.”

“But disease, pregnancy?”

He shrugged. “I guess she dodged some bullets. Thing is, when she ran out, I was humiliated. But worse was finding out she didn’t care enough about me, about what we had, what we’d built, to confide in me. To let me help her through it. To help her find her faith again. I would have been there for her, through thick and thin. She just didn’t think enough of me to let me.” He slapped his knees, cheeks hot. “Since then I don’t like anybody I care about keeping me in the dark.”

“That’s quite some tale. I feel for her.” Mary Grace’s voice was as gentle as the hand she laid over his. “I feel for you. But none of us knows how we’d deal with a tragic circumstance. It’s so easy to be a Monday morning quarterback. Grant was so big and strong. I thought he’d be there to lean on no matter what. And then…he wasn’t.”

“Well, I’m not that man.” He wanted to assure her, to let her know everything in his heart. “I’ll be at your side for the duration. Whatever we’re dealt. Whatever comes our way, God will give us the insight, the strength to make it our own. Make the best of it. If you’ll have me, Mary Grace.”

Her eyes shone a brighter blue than he’d ever seen before. Maybe it was the rays of the setting sun. He liked to think it was love.

“Scott, darling, do it right, please. Get on those knees. And, well. You’re going to have to ask Creighton, you know. For my hand.”

“I think I like the idea of you walking up the aisle, pushing his wheelchair.”

“That could work.” Her hand teased the back of his neck.

“Mary Grace Wesley Gibson, would you do me the honor of having and holding me forever and ever? I promise to do the same.”

“I will, Scott Loren Martin. Now let’s get to the party.”

“Should we announce it tonight?” Scott asked. “I’m a newbie at these things.”

For a moment, her face clouded as if bad memories passed through her head. “No. No. We need to tell my parents. And let’s have a little engagement party. Nothing fancy. The wing-ding Grant had for us had almost five hundred people. I didn’t know more than three or four. Besides…”

“Besides what?”

“I don’t know but…Christy cut her trip short. And she was glowing. Wouldn’t it be fun if she’s got some good news of her own to announce?”

“You mean, about her award?”

“No, silly. I mean something she couldn’t wait to get home to tell her husband.” She whispered close into his ear.

Scott slapped his knees. “Oh, mercy. You think?”

“Just a guess. But my gut’s been right in the past.”

“Well, Daisy’s pregnant, too. That’s one reason for the party. But that’s a big surprise. Don’t say a word.”

“I won’t say a word about that. But I so want to say I do.”

His hat tumbled to the porch as he drew her close, tasting love, tasting hope, and even a hint of forever.

“By the way, Mr. Martin,” she mumbled against his lips. “I guess we won’t be needing to attend singles Bible study tonight.”