by Jayna Morrow
“I’ve had enough fun for one evening at your expense. There’s something important I want to say to you, and I’d prefer to do it without a towel on your head.”
She rolled her eyes. “No more jokes, huh?”
He cocked his head to one side. “Not a one. Promise.” He cleared his throat. Then he sucked in a deep breath. “I love you, Irelynn.”
Her eyes filled with tears. And...was that laughing? She was laughing. He’d admitted that he loved her and she was laughing. Relief, that’s what was causing it.
“Did you hear me, Irelynn?”
She nodded and did her best to control the shaky rise and fall of her chest, but her heart raced and her breathing labored.
“Then why are you laughing?” Concern creased his forehead.
“I’m laughing because I’m so happy. I haven’t been this happy in so long. I guess my body doesn’t remember what to do with this emotion.” She cupped his face and pressed her forehead to his. “I love you, too. So much.”
His playful grin returned. “Glad to hear it. I love you, and that’s no joke.”
“I believe you.”
“You should. It’s the truth. Now stop laughing.”
She tried her best, but all attempts failed.
When he could stand no more, he put a stop to it with a kiss.
20
Irelynn made her way around the Sweet Home Community Center, which hosted the Lissemores’ fiftieth-anniversary party.
From the size of the crowd, it looked as if a sizable portion of the town’s population was in attendance. Holden stood near the punch bowl at the far end of the room.
She’d learned a lot about him since his profession of love. Tonight, he’d find out just how much he meant to her. In a way that she couldn’t express in words. She came up to him, shoulders brushing, and surveyed the guests.
“Having fun?” The older crowd on the dance floor swayed to a slow fifties song.
“Fun?” Her insides danced around, too. She wanted to grab the easel and canvas and make a mad dash out the back door, like an art thief. So why was she still standing here? “I’m a nervous wreck.” He drew her into an embrace, enveloping her with warmth and comfort. “Even my mother is here for the grand reveal. Not to mention your gregarious family, tan and rested from their vacation.”
“I’m glad you did it.” He tapped a finger to the tip of her nose. “You’re not getting any sympathy from me on this. Wait until they slip off that drop cloth. It’ll be a phenomenal moment.”
“Well, I hope so.” Her breath was a little shaky. “My style is different from my father’s.”
“Consider it a blessing that you don’t have to compare your work to his. I’ve done my research and can say that both father and daughter Rafferty stand uniquely talented.”
She couldn’t have sketched a more perfect smile than the one drawn on his face. He was like a living portrait. He sure made it onerous to argue with him. She couldn’t get her brain to think of anything funny to say. “Are you always this charming or just with me?”
“I warned you I was a handful. It’s part of the package deal.” He slid his arms down to her waist and spun her around. “Would you like to dance?” He pointed over her shoulder to the hardwood square at one end of the building.
She swallowed, positive she would die of embarrassment before her artwork ever saw the light of day. “Do I have a choice?”
“Of course you do.” He regarded her with gentle, hooded eyes. “But I would love it if you’d try.”
She nodded. “I will for you.”
“Follow me.”
His giddy expression made her smile. She let him lead her out onto the dance floor, amidst a jolly couple wrapped up in the music and each other. “Don’t expect anything spectacular. I can’t dance.”
He winked. “Sway back and forth, like this.” He demonstrated how to move her feet and body. She mimicked his movements. “Good, good. Now step closer and put your arms around my neck.” She did as she was told, her arms sliding into place and finding refuge atop his broad shoulders. “There you go, girl. Nice and easy.”
“This isn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I could get used to this.” She let out a relaxed breath and laid her head on his chest. “Let’s stick to slow dances though.”
“I can handle that, as long as you dance with me and nobody else.”
“Mr. Lissemore already informed me that he wanted a dance later.” Which is why she’d remained on the opposite side of the room from him all evening. She’d agreed, but hoped to avoid it altogether. “But there’s no need to worry about him. He’s kinda spoken for.”
They both laughed at her joke. A spot in the crowd opened up, and he maneuvered her in that direction. “I guess I can let you go for one dance.”
“Nice to see you two together on the dance floor.” Gabriel and Sparrow swayed past, arms wrapped around each other in a similar fashion.
She smiled and Holden nodded after them.
Garrett and Micara stood off to the side near the gift table. Micara held baby Raven, while Garrett lifted the child’s tiny fist and moved it back and forth to wave at her parents. Their own little bundle of joy would soon make an appearance in a few months.
And here Irelynn was, dancing with the man she loved, more confident than ever. Her faith was restored.
“Do you regret your decision to sell your house in Dallas and move back here?”
“Not at all. I’m happy here, and I can still travel.”
“Maybe one day I can travel with you?”
“After we’re married, I wanna show you the world. And I want you to paint something in every place we visit.”
“Married?” She grinned, recalling the rainy day they’d professed their love. “We haven’t talked about marriage. That is, you haven’t asked me to...” Her eyes grew wide. Surely, he wouldn’t ask her here, in the middle of the Lissemores’ anniversary party! “Are you...?”
He reached up, took hold of her left-hand ring finger, and kissed it. “I won’t steal the Lissemores’ spotlight, but it is a possibility.”
“I’d be open to that possibility.” She let her head rest against his chest once more, nuzzling in. She’d never have to let this man go. “I love you so much.”
Gabriel winked at her and flashed a knowing grin. She understood why. She doubted playing cupid was his thing, but he’d been instrumental in bringing them together, even if it was indirectly. She smiled back as the song ended. Then she and Holden walked off the dance floor.
“Gather around, everyone.” A shrill voice over a microphone pierced the room, causing chills instantly.
Holden slipped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. “It’s gonna be all right. Everyone will love your work.”
The crowd, gathering near the gift, made way when they saw Irelynn approach.
“See how excited everyone is. They know what’s about to happen. Enjoy your fifteen minutes of fame.”
She remembered creating the masterpiece and how she’d strived for perfection. For accurate details. For meaning.
Now the moment was upon her.
“We’re planning on opening our gifts at home later, but there is one gift that we want to share with everyone. As most of you know, Linda and I commissioned a painting years ago by a talented local artist named Sean Rafferty. That’s the painting on the giant easel by the front doors. I’m sure y’all noticed it when you walked in. Many of you have seen it hanging in our living room for the past quarter of a century.”
He gestured to her father’s portrait of the Lissemores. A much younger version of the couple embraced in a field of flowers and stared into each other’s eyes with love and admiration. Whenever she looked at the painting, she couldn’t help but think that the couple’s love brought everything to life.
Just as Holden’s love brought color to her life.
“What you may not know is that Sean Rafferty’s daughter, Irelynn, is also a talented artist.” He
spoke to the crowd as he sometimes spoke to the congregation in church. His words prompted gasps and murmurs throughout the crowd.
Many nodded and leaned to their neighbors as if to confirm what Mr. Lissemore was saying. A couple drew imaginary rectangles in the air, and she guessed they were describing the steak house mural.
But beyond the gasps, nods, and murmurs were those who knew her best. The smiles plastered on their faces gave her strength—smiles from Garrett, Micara, Gabriel, and Sparrow. Her mother’s smile was the biggest and came complete with a pair of glistening eyes full of joy for both her daughter and her late husband, whom she’d never seen honored for his art during his lifetime.
“For our fiftieth anniversary, we wanted nothing more than a painting from Irelynn. A father-daughter set to make our collection complete. Irelynn agreed.”
All eyes studied her in admiration once again, but this time, instead of feeling uncomfortable, love radiated from those around her. She took in the details as her father taught her years ago. They’d spent countless hours sketching tiny things—patches of moss at the base of trees, contents of forgotten corners in barns, hundreds of twigs and pebbles, buttons and sidewalk cracks, and flowers from every angle imaginable.
She’d learned early on that the details in life mattered. She’d let that belief go for a while, but Holden had helped her recapture it. That’s what she loved most about him, that he was a busybody like her dad who fidgeted and tinkered with the details until he got them right.
“Thank you so much for sharing your talent, Irelynn. I hope you understand how much this means to both of us.” Irelynn smiled back at Mr. Lissemore and nodded. “Let’s see what she created for us.”
He and Linda lifted the drop cloth to reveal her work of art.
For a moment, the world stopped spinning. Then hands covered mouths. Eyes widened. Smiles deepened. Tears welled up in several pairs of eyes.
“It’s so beautiful!”
“Stunning!”
“You’re so talented, young lady.”
Rapid fire comments penetrated Irelynn’s heart, and she took the full blow of each one with thanks and grace while monitoring the Lissemores’ reaction as they meditated on the portrait that was so different from her father’s. He was a true painter and used charcoal, pencil, and paints. Her mixed media creations incorporated those basic elements combined with natural materials such as leaves, sand, ground brick, or decoupage.
The Lissemore’s painting featured a decoupaged background using sketches of Sweet Home over the past fifty years, some hers and some her father’s. A giant set of gold wedding bands framed the perimeter of the portrait; the effect of which she hoped was like peering through a pair of binoculars and into the lives of this beautiful couple. What view did the wedding band binoculars afford? A kaleidoscope of scenes she’d adapted from borrowed photo albums, chosen to blend with the background.
Mrs. Lissemore was an emotional mess. Her husband guided her over and gathered Irelynn into a group hug. Then he pulled back, and the corners of his mouth lifted. “I could say I loved it, but that wouldn’t do it justice. It is so much more than that. How can I express gratitude for a painting that captures fifty years of true love?” The tears in this grown man’s eyes brought tears to her own. “I can’t. I just...can’t. You’ve captured my heart on canvas.”
All she could do was nod and focus hard on breathing. The sharp pain in her chest was happiness in her heart. It hurt when someone touched a heart as Mr. Lissemore had touched hers. She’d never forget this moment, feeling so happy.
When everything died down, the crowd cleared, the dance floor filled up once again, and Irelynn took a rest at a table in a far corner.
Holden joined her. “There you are.”
Irelynn perked up at his voice.
“Isn’t it nice seeing one of your paintings next to your father’s?” He glanced at the area of the room where both works now sat side-by-side. “Together, they tell the greatest love story ever.”
She shook her head. “That would be the story of our savior, Jesus Christ.”
He nodded. “You’re right. Let me try again. The second greatest love story.”
She shook her head once more. “What about us?”
He let out a sigh and dropped his shoulders. “Third, the third greatest love story ever told. I’m not doing very well tonight, am I?”
She reached out and patted his leg. “You’re doing fine. I know what you meant, but I had to give you a hard time.”
“I know a little something about giving people a hard time.”
“Where do you think I learned it?” She retorted playfully.
Holden’s mischievous grin returned. “What will I do with you?”
“Marry me.”
He shook his head. “Don’t know if I can marry someone who keeps secrets from me.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “What secrets?”
He leaned in so close their foreheads touched and locked his gaze with hers. “If I recall correctly, there were two paintings undercover at your house. Not one.”
21
Her living area lay in ruins amidst the many, many items artists used. She’d given up cleaning long ago in favor of having everything handy when inspiration hit. Now that both paintings were complete, some tidying up was in order. Eventually. It might be easier to move.
They crossed the room and stood before the easel covered with a paint-spattered drop cloth.
Since she survived the first reveal earlier, she was now anxious to show Holden what stood beneath cover number two.
“Before I let you see it, I want you to know that I painted this for you.”
“For me?” His dazzling eyes squinted in question. “You didn’t have to paint anything for me.”
“I know I didn’t. I wanted to.” She grabbed the edge of the cover and lifted it slightly. “I changed my mind so many times, but I couldn’t get it right. Until that day in the rain, then everything became clear, and I was able to finish.”
She lifted the cloth off the canvas, then stood back to let him take it in. A simple outdoor scene with a darkened sky provided the backdrop. The light gray clouds hung low overhead, but light from the sinking sun glowed through and signified the end of the storm was near.
In the center, Holden soared through the sky like a superhero. Her superhero. Instead of a cape, he wielded an umbrella. It was open and pointed to the sky like a knight lifting a sword. She hugged his side as his free arm wrapped around her middle, and lifted her gaze to him as if he had just saved her life. In a way, there was a lot of truth in her art.
He stepped closer to the canvas, centering himself and cocking his head to one side. His gaze scanned the surface. Then he reached back and pulled her close to him, and they stood in a pose similar to that in the painting.
This was the extraordinary moment she’d dreamed of over the past few weeks. All she wanted in life now was to spend time with Holden and paint. She rested her head on his shoulder. He gripped her tighter around the waist. When their gazes met, they smiled.
This was living. This is what God had intended for her, to have someone who loved her the way she was and to be able to share her gift with others. A wonderful life lived on purpose, instead of drifting around aimlessly.
“Well?”
He shook his head and opened his mouth several times, but failed to formulate a single word.
“Could it be that Holden Hearth is at a loss for words?”
He nodded slowly.
“I can’t believe that the man who blows up my phone, the man who never shuts up, the man who—”
He put a stop to her talking with a kiss. She wasn’t sure about painting reveals, but she’d never get tired of this attention. His lips were soft and pliable and reminded her of potter’s clay. They fit together perfectly. She slid her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.
A moment later, he drew back. “I’d like to do that in Paris under the Eiffel Tower. At sunset on t
he beach of Kiribati. Under the Bridge of Sighs in Venice, Italy. I want to show you the world, Irelynn.”
“That sounds wonderful. Say when.”
“When.”
“What?”
He dropped to one knee, and her hands flew to her mouth in total shock. He dug in his pocket, and after fumbling with shaky hands for a minute, produced a ring box. Nestled inside was a beautiful engagement ring. He plucked the ring from its box and held it up. The textured gold band and a cluster of diamonds sparkled before her eyes.
“Will you marry me, Irelynn?”
Her head started nodding even before her mouth could form words. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.”
Wrinkles creased his forehead. “Are you sure?”
“Of course, I’m sure. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I mean...a thousand times? I thought for sure it would be more like a million.”
Classic Holden. If she didn’t want that ring so badly, she’d grab it and chuck it at him right now. “OK, a million times, yes. Now give me that ring.”
“You’re the boss.” He slipped it onto her finger and then repeated the sweetest words she’d ever heard in her life. “I love you.”
Sweet Home, Texas
Don’t miss any of the books in the Sweet Home series
GARRETT’S GIFT | GABRIEL’S GRACE | HOLDEN’S HEART
Discover what life, love, faith and forgiveness mean in the small Texas town of Sweet Home
A Devotional Moment
AS EACH HAS RECEIVED A GIFT, USE IT TO SERVE ONE ANOTHER, AS GOOD STEWARDS OF GOD’S VARIED GRACE. ~ 1 PETER 4:10
We all have gifts and talents—and flaws. It is those things that make each of us unique, and we are to use our gifts (and the lessons we learn from our flaws) to help make the world a better place. Oftentimes, our gifts can be used for multiple purposes and in ways that we may not expect. The apostles Peter and Andrew were fishermen, but Jesus saw a way to use their talents to spread the gospel. Rahab was a woman of easy virtue, yet she was able to discern the goodness she saw in God’s men, and God was able to use her to help His men get away from their enemies. David’s life as a shepherd helped him have the skills to guide Israel to be a great nation. When we submit to God, He can use our flaws and our talents to make us better people and the world a better place.