A Love Surrendered

by Julie Lessman

  His hand dropped to the back of the swing once again as he stared at Joe through solemn eyes. “You need to turn to him, Joe, pray for him to change your heart and run the show, then pray for him to help you be the man he wants you to be. The man Maggie needs you to be. And the man Glory needs as a father. Because they’re too precious to risk doing it our way, a way that left both of us hollow and unhappy. Once you do, I swear to you on my life, you’ll never be the same.” A slow grin eased across his lips, bordering on cocky. “And when your confidence is in him, he puts his confidence in you, and you mark my words, Walsh—that kind of confidence will draw sweet Maggie Kennedy like flies to honey.”

  Averting his gaze, Joe stared out into the dark night, Steven’s words obviously rolling around in his brain. He finally glanced over. “His confidence, huh?” He huffed out a sigh. “I’ve never had all that much myself, Steven, so I’m not sure I’d even know what it feels like. I was just content hiding in your shadow, you know? A second fiddle who was never first with anybody except you, the best friend a man ever had.”

  Steven gripped Joe’s shoulder. “That’s where you’re wrong, my friend. You’ve always been ‘first’ with God, you just didn’t know it. So give it a shot, Joe, put God first, talk to Maggie, and then go from there. Because whether your future is with her or not, God has a plan that’ll make your head spin. And then look out, Walsh, ’cause you’re in for the ride of your life.”

  A sheepish smile crept across Joe’s face. “Not on a carousel, I hope. You know how I can’t stand those things.”

  Rising to his feet, Steven rolled a kink from his neck. “Nope, on this ride you won’t be going in circles, buddy boy. But the speed at which your life changes for the better?” He grinned, groaning with a stretch of arms high overhead. “Trust me—you’re gonna be real dizzy.”

  Annie stirred, awakened by a soft giggle floating from Glory’s lips as she slept, spooning in her sister’s arms.

  Correction: her aunt’s arms. Annie wondered if she’d ever get used to the shock that Glory was Maggie’s daughter instead of her sister. Since Maggie had come home for good three weeks ago, she’d primped and pampered and played with Glory as if she were an oversize doll, taking her everywhere during the day and cuddling all night . . . except for the nights she was out late with Steven, of course. Like tonight.

  Pure torture.

  Annie sighed and shimmied close to Glory, eyes weighting shut with a heavy malaise that ushered in another lonely night despite the bundle of innocence snoring in her arms. She’d heard Maggie come in after midnight, and the faint click of the front door in the foyer reverberated through her as if it were the slam of her bedroom door, jolting her body despite the cocoon of Glory’s warmth. And all because she knew that on the other side, Steven O’Connor was walking away, out of her life, again and again, a serial nightmare that never seemed to end . . .

  No! Annie squeezed her eyelids tight, desperate to stem the flow of tears that inevitably swelled, whispering the Scripture from Jeremiah 29:11 that Faith had given her to memorize.

  “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.”

  An expected end.

  Tears seeped onto her pillow. Up till three weeks ago, she’d “expected” to fall further in love with Steven O’Connor and marry him, having his children. But not anymore. Her expected end had taken an unexpected turn, and now Steven would marry her sister to make a proper home for their child.

  His child.

  Glory. The little girl who slept in her arms, Steven’s blood and issue. With a quivering hand, Annie touched the wispy curls of Glory’s head, her heart breaking that this little girl and her mother would always belong to Steven while Annie never would. With a soft little snort, Glory turned over and scooted away, depriving Annie of the closeness they’d shared.

  Just like her daddy.

  Stop! She shot up in the bed, hugging her legs to her chest and forehead to her knees, clinging to Faith’s words of wisdom to ward off the pain. “I will not feel sorry for myself,” she whispered through gritted teeth, “I will praise you in the face of this, God, and I will move on with my life. Thank you that you have blessed Glory with parents, Maggie with a husband, and Steven with a wife.” The words spilled from her lips in a rush, her mind anxious to say them, confirm them, feel them. “Your Word says all things work together for good for those who love you, and I believe that, Lord. Not only for Maggie, Glory, and Steven . . . but for me.”

  Stillness settled on the room as well as her spirit, and she marveled at the holy silence that prevailed, chasing away the shadows. A tranquility like none she’d ever known, unmarred by the soft breathing of her niece or the distant chime of Aunt Eleanor’s grandfather clock, heralding the hour of three. Silver moonbeams spilled across the floor in hazy ribbons of light like the grace of God pouring into her soul, flooding her heart with peace and promise. All at once, tears stung and gratitude swelled in her throat when joy surged like adrenaline, connecting her soul with his. “Oh, Lord, I would be lost without you . . .”

  Weeping may endure for a night, Beloved, but joy cometh in the morning.

  “Oh yes, Lord,” she breathed, that very joy trickling down her cheeks. “Your peace and your will forever . . .” Easing back on the bed, Annie lay there in a wonder, a faint smile on her lips while the steady beat of her heart stole her away to much-needed slumber.

  Clink.

  Her eyes popped open, and all breath stilled in her chest.

  Clink.

  She sat up, body trembling and pulse racing.

  Ping. Louder this time, thinning her air.

  Lengthy pause. Ping . . . thud.

  Annie vaulted from the bed with a gasp, blood pounding in her ears as she flew to the window. Peering into the shadowed backyard, she saw the silhouette of a man bending to pick up a stone, and she stifled a scream. He rose to his full height while his gaze lifted to her window, and when moonlight revealed his handsome features, her legs nearly buckled beneath her gown.

  Steven!

  Her fingers shook as she heaved up the sash, the rush of cold air unable to thwart the warmth in her cheeks. “What are you doing here?” she whispered, her tone strained.

  He parked hands low on his hips, his smile a glorious gleam of white in the dark. “We need to talk—climb down.”

  “No,” she whispered, shooting a nervous glance at the little girl snoring in her bed. “Glory is sleeping here, and you’re engaged to my sister—go away.”

  The flash of teeth spanned wide as he folded his arms. “Don’t make me come up there, Annie, because I will.”

  “You wouldn’t!” Goose bumps popped that had nothing to do with the cold.

  Moonlight glinted in his eyes. “Try me, kid—I dare you.”

  “The trellis won’t hold you,” she pleaded, her voice hushed with panic. Her heart thumped wildly, faster than Glory’s during one of their tickle fests. Thank you, God, that Maggie’s room is on the other side of the house.

  “Then come down.”

  “No.” She worried her lip.

  “Fine.” Latching his foot at the base of the trellis, he started to climb.

  “No!” Her voice was a hiss.

  He stopped, head cocked. “You coming down?”

  “I c-can’t—I’m in my nightgown.”

  His mouth crooked. “Put on a robe.”

  “I can’t.”

  He exhaled loudly and continued to rise.

  “Stop—I’ll get my housecoat.” Hurrying to her closet, she wrapped her thick terry robe around her body with a trembling jerk of her sash and donned her slippers before returning to the window, stomach quivering. She stared down where he waited, his face washed in moonlight, and a knot hitched in her throat.

  He arched a dark brow. “Anytime, Annie—the sun won’t be up for three hours or so.”

  She chewed on the edge of her lip, fingers fiddling with the
tail of her sash. “I . . . can’t,” she whispered, afraid to go down, afraid to be near him, afraid of what might happen if she did.

  He huffed out a sigh. “Why?”

  Drawing in a wobbly breath, she sat down on the sill, scrambling for excuses. “I promised I wouldn’t climb down that trellis again.”

  He mumbled under his breath. “Who the devil did you promise that to?”

  “You,” she said, a smile tickling. “When you walked me home from Ocean Pier, remember?”

  “Blast it, Annie, forget the stupid promise! Now climb down before I lose my patience.”

  Glory snorted in her sleep and Annie jumped, thoughts of Maggie and Glory sobering her considerably. She leaned out the window, a plea in her tone. “Steven, please don’t make me. I don’t want to come down. You belong to Maggie, and I can’t be near you.”

  “I don’t belong to Maggie,” he said, his voice low and harsh. “Now either you come down, or I’m coming up. I have something to say, and I don’t want to yell it from here.” He waited, his jaw as hard as the sill beneath her hand.

  She hesitated.

  The trellis rattled as he continued to scale.

  “Okay—stop!” She slid another anxious look at Glory before dipping one leg over the ledge and then the other, careful to close the window till it was open only an inch. Gnawing on her lip, she slowly picked her way down the latticework, pricking her finger on the way. She hopped from the lowest slat and turned to face him, throat dry as she peered up at his chiseled face. “So, what do you need to tell me?” she whispered, arms clutched tight at her waist. The scent of cloves teased her senses and she took a step back, steeling her tone. “It’s cold.”

  With a swoop of her stomach, he bundled her close before she could speak, stealing her breath when he pressed his mouth to her ear. “I’ll keep you warm, you have my word.” She opened her mouth to object, and he silenced her with a kiss that made good on his promise. “I love you, Annie Kennedy,” he whispered, “and I want to marry you.”

  Her heart clutched and she shoved him away, tears sparking her eyes. “No! How can you be this cruel when you’re going to marry my sis—”

  He dazed her with another kiss that blotted out everything but him and the sweet taste of peppermint as his mouth explored hers. “I can’t marry your sister,” he said, his words warm against her skin while his mouth trailed to her ear. “Because I’m in love with you . . .”

  She jerked back. “But Glory—”

  “Is not my daughter.”

  The intensity of his voice matched that in his eyes, and her heart slammed to a stop. “What do you mean?” she whispered, barely able to breathe.

  He tunneled gentle fingers through her hair to cradle her head while he fondled her mouth with a tender kiss. “I mean, Maggie confessed I’m not Glory’s father, so the engagement’s off.”

  “B-but . . . how? W-who . . . ?” The words stuttered from her tongue, as fractured as her thoughts. She wavered on her feet, knees ready to give way.

  He swept her up and carried her to a wrought-iron bench on the cobblestone patio, settling her on his lap while he wrapped her inside of his coat. “I broke up with Maggie the summer of sophomore year, and she was angry at me, so she got drunk one night and—”

  “Glory . . . ,” she whispered, her heart wrenching for all the heartbreak her sister had obviously endured. She pulled away, eyes spanning wide. “Then, who—”

  “Joe,” he said quietly, softly brushing a strand of hair from her eyes.

  Her breathing stilled while a weak gasp wedged in her throat. “Oh, Steven, no . . .”

  “Afraid so.” He cuddled her close and kissed her head. “That’s why I’m so late getting here tonight. I went to Joe’s after Maggie confessed, and we had it out. Seems he’s been in love with her all along, only he was too ashamed to tell me.” He grunted, a trace of irony in his tone. “And all through college, I just thought they were really close friends. And they were . . . until Maggie and I broke up. Then all it took was a bottle of booze and one fateful mistake.”

  “A mistake that God turned into a blessing,” Annie said softly, her heart filling with wonder at how God redeemed the sin of her sister with a gift as precious as Glory.

  “In more ways than one.”

  She sat up on his lap, slippers dangling. “What do you mean?”

  He pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. “You’re the reason Maggie confessed.”

  “Me?” Her voice cracked.

  “Yep.” He caressed her face. “Because of your love and deep faith in God, Maggie’s ready to turn her life around with God’s help.” His eyes were tender. “Which is exactly how you won me.” His voice trailed off as he bent to nuzzle her lips, gently, reverently, melting her heart into a puddle of pudding, along with her bones. “And,” he whispered, skyrocketing her pulse when his mouth wandered to the lobe of her ear, “Joe wants to marry her.”

  “What?” His words jolted her back, the shock of his statement tingling as much as his touch. “He said that?”

  He grinned. “Yep. Guess I never told you, but Joe’s a sucker for kids. Spends a lot of time with his nieces, nephews, and kids in the neighborhood, but he’s always wanted his own.”

  Annie shook her head, in complete awe of God. A thought struck, and a frown puckered her brow. “But does Maggie want to marry him?”

  “Maggie wants to do anything that’ll let her be a mom and give Glory a good home.”

  Her heart twisted, robbing her joy. “But . . . she’s in love with you,” Annie whispered.

  Steven tucked a finger to her chin and slowly grazed her jaw with his thumb, his solemn gaze meeting hers. “Hear me on this, Annie Kennedy—your sister is not in love with me any more than I am with her. We care about each other, yes, and we always will. But we talked it out, and she knows I’m in love with you, and she’s okay with that. Maggie and I were in love once, it’s true, and we have a history, but both of us were doing this for Glory’s sake and nothing more.” His eyes flitted to her lips and back, taking on a smoky quality that matched the wayward curve of his smile. He leaned in, his lips a mere breath away. “Now you?” The smile spelled trouble as he slowly slid his mouth against hers. He gently tugged and tasted while his husky chuckle feathered her lip. “Another matter altogether, Baby Doll.”

  She swallowed hard, a dozen hummingbirds taking flight in her belly. “S-so . . . where do we go from here?” she breathed, pulse throbbing.

  “Glad you asked, kid.” His smile eased into a grin. “Why don’t we go here,” he whispered, teasing her with a gentle sway of his lips before taking her with a kiss that tingled all the way to her toes. “And here . . .” He nipped at her earlobe, his mouth tracing from the curve of her neck to the hollow of her throat, nuzzling to unleash a silent moan in her chest.

  “S-steven . . . I . . . need to go in . . .” Her whisper was weak, head drifting back to allow him full range.

  Eyes closed, she felt his fingers twine with hers. He lifted her hand and skimmed her wrist with his lips, caressing her palm with a lingering kiss. “And finally, Annie Kennedy,” he said softly, voice husky with intent, “we go here . . .”

  Her eyes popped wide at the touch of cold to her skin, and she gasped when something hovered on the tip of her finger. Moonlight glittered off the diamond ring he held, blurring into a million halos of light as tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, Steven . . .”

  “Say it, Annie,” he whispered, the love in his eyes glowing like the diamond in his hand. “Make a liar out of a man who said he wouldn’t fall in love with a kid.”

  A grin tipped her mouth. “I don’t know, Agent O’Connor, I distinctly remember you saying no pushy kid still wet behind the ears was going to tell you what to do.”

  He grinned. “Okay, then,” he said with a wink, tossing the ring in the air before slipping it back in his pocket.

  “Oh no you don’t,” she hissed, jerking it back. “Put it on, O’Connor—now!”
<
br />   He chuckled and slid the ring on her finger. “Well, aren’t you the pushy little brat,” he said with a grin. He paused, shifting her hand to squint at the underside of her finger. A pucker creased in his brow. “Hey, you cut yourself coming down that blasted trellis, Annie.” Assessing the blood on the tip of her finger, he bent to gently suck it away, and her stomach pulsed when his heated gaze connected with hers.

  She yanked her hand away. “It’s fine,” she said, her voice a near croak, “but you’re going home, Steven O’Connor—right now!”

  A slow smile eased across his lips. “You’re a bossy little thing, you know that, Kennedy?” Ignoring her protest, he dipped her back on his lap, mouth roaming her throat. A low groan rumbled from his chest when his hand skimmed the curve of her thigh.

  “Steven!” Arms flailing, she scrambled up with a hand to his chest, her breathing as heavy as his. “You haven’t begun to see ‘bossy,’ ” she said with a vault off his lap. Stepping out of range, she plunked hands on her hips, determined he’d play by her rules, engagement or no. She jabbed a finger toward the street. “I love you, Steven O’Connor, but go . . . home . . . now. Or this ring will be back in your pocket like that.” She snapped her fingers and hiked her chin with a fold of her arms, biting back a smile at the shock on his face.

  Lumbering to his feet, he buttoned his coat with a boyish grin that faded to soft. “Have I told you just how much I love you, kid? ’Cause I do.” Mischief twinkled in his eyes. “And don’t get your knickers in a knot, Miss Kennedy, because you’re not the only one who intends to do this the right way. I may be stubborn and have a one-track mind at times, but I’m not stupid.” With a gentle twine of her fingers, he led her to the trellis and nodded up. “Go on up. I’ll leave when you’re safely inside.”

  Her sigh billowed into the cool air, the smile on her lips growing along with the love in her heart. “Thank you, Steven,” she said softly, lifting on tiptoe to brush her lips against his. “And I love you too—with all of my heart. Good night.”