Dancing on Dew

by Leah Atwood

“I wanted everything to be right this time. No secrets, no hiding.” He leaned his head to whisper in her ear. “Say yes, Sissy, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making you happy.”

  “Yes.” Tears of joy trickled down her cheek.

  “I love you.”

  She tilted her head to meet his advancing lips. A kiss seven years in the making, and she’d never known a more tender, adoring touch. At that moment, she forgot the heart ache and every tear shed. All she knew was a fought for love that paid off with the sweetest reward.

  Epilogue

  Six months to the day that Joseph returned to Weatherton, he stood at the front of the church. Jeremiah stood beside him in support. Surveying the packed sanctuary, he saw many members of the community. People he was proud to call friends and family—people that would stand by a person in good times and bad.

  The back door opened, and Gloria glided through, wearing a white muslin dress with a lavender hued sash and carrying an ornate basket filled with colorful asters. She walked down the center aisle, stealing smiles and adoration.

  Joseph smiled, watching all the love showered on his daughter. She’d been so excited for this day, impatiently counting down the days until she had a new ma.

  Tallie and Liza Holden walked in next, each carrying a bouquet. His sister-in-law was just starting to show that she was with child, a baby who would be welcomed to the world in early spring. The two women who served as Sissy’s attendants stood opposite the men.

  Finally, Sissy entered and all the breath left Joseph’s lungs. She’d chosen to wear the dress her ma had worn for her wedding—an ivory gown with a lacy overlay. His eyes never left his bride as she walked down the aisle to meet him. The church was small, but it seemed to be the length of the entire Double J spread as he waited for Sissy to reach his side.

  When she came to him, he took her hands, and looked into the eyes of his first love. Overcome with gratitude for the blessing of Sissy’s love, he swallowed the lump of emotion lodged in his throat.

  Pastor Gibbons coughed, and Joseph and Sissy exchanged a smile before reciting their vows. Minutes later, they were joined in matrimony, sharing their first kiss as man and wife.

  They strolled down the center aisle, shaking hands and accepting congratulations. At the door, he paused and lifted his eyes upward. Thank you, Lord, for second chances. He squeezed Sissy’s hand, and they left the church to begin their lives together.

  Letter from the Author

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for joining me on Joseph and Sissy’s journey. There’s something special about first loves, especially when they turn into a happily ever after. To get her happy ending, Sissy had to be willing to forgive, and Joseph had to accept personal responsibility for his past errors. I can’t help thinking that if everyone embraced these two values, we’d make our world a better place.

  Dancing on Dew is the final book of the Brides of Weatherton series, which will always hold a spot in my heart. When you write inspirational romance, it’s hard to walk away unaffected, and this series has made me grow, not just as a writer, but as a person. From the bottom of my heart, I thank each of you for your continued support. It is never taken for granted and always appreciated!

  Until next time,

  Leah

  Connect with Leah:

  Newsletter Sign Up for New Releases

  Facebook

  Website

  authorleahatwood@gmail.com

  Other Available Titles

  Contemporary Romance Novels

  Come to Me

  Come to Me Alive

  Come to Me Free

  Come to Me Again

  Come to Me Joyful (Bonus NOVELLA)

  Modern Conveniences

  Love In a Fix

  Calling Love (Spring 2016)

  Lost in Love (Summer 2016)

  Brides of Weatherton Novellas

  After the Rain

  Fire and Ice

  Winds of Change

  Whiter than Snow

  Dancing on Dew

  Texas Wildflowers Novelette Series

  Free to Love

  Free to Heal

  Free to Protect

  Free to Serve

  Free to Roam

  Free to Forgive

  Mail-Order Short Stories and Novelettes

  The Ultimatum Bride

  A Man to Be Proud Of

  Their First Noelle

  The Not Quite Mail-Order Bride

  The Mail-Order Bride’s Quilt

  Riches of the Heart

  Unlikely Substitute

  The Most Wonderful Bride of the Year

  Love in A Fix Excerpt

  Love in a Fix Available Now

  A MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE WITH A CONTEMPORARY TWIST

  Chapter One

  “No.” Lyndsey Allen drew out the word as she pulled the frozen casserole from the oven with her bare hands, no potholders needed.

  She plopped the ceramic dish on the counter then pushed several buttons on the oven. Not that it mattered if she turned off the appliance or not. The uncooked cheese-laden vegetables were testament enough that the appliance wasn’t working. Suspicions had lurked in her mind for several weeks that the oven wasn’t operating properly, but she’d prayed it would hold out until tax season. Goodness only knew she couldn’t afford a repair bill right now, let alone a whole new range if it came to that.

  Desperate for a solution that wouldn’t incur an expense she couldn’t pay, she pulled out the range from the wall and unplugged its cord. After thirty seconds she plugged it back in and pushed the appliance back into its spot. She bit down on her bottom lip while she pressed the preheat button and waited a few minutes to see if the oven warmed. It was a long shot, she knew, but if it worked for the wireless router, why not give it a try for the oven?

  Holding her breath, she lowered the door. No heat. No orange glow cast from the heating elements.

  A loose strand of strawberry blonde hair tickled her face when she exhaled a defeated sigh. Bending at the waist, she opened the drawer that stored various kitchen sundries. She pulled out the aluminum foil and tore off a sheet long enough to cover the casserole. After she pressed and fitted the foil over the dish, she shoved the uncooked food into the fridge.

  She closed the door and shrugged—so the dish she’d thrown together wouldn’t make it to the church potluck. At least she and Josh could eat from it as a side dish for the next week. Money was too sparse to waste that amount of food, even if it would become mushy once it was cooked in the microwave.

  The thought of money reminded her about the stack of bills on the table. Time for the monthly game of what bills can be delayed without severe consequence—a game in which she only participated out of necessity.

  After checking on Josh, her four-year-old son, she sat at the table and flipped through the bills. She opened the envelope from Calding County Electric Co-op. Final Notice stared at her in bold red letters. Experience taught her the power company’s final notice meant final notice. Without an exemption, her power would be disconnected in four days. Since she’d already gotten an extension last month, she knew one wouldn’t be granted again so soon.

  She reached for the checkbook and wrote a draft for the past due amount. Hopefully that would be enough to buy her some time. Until when, she didn’t know. Her full-time job as an administrative assistant at a safety technology firm had been cut to part-time last spring, and she’d lost her benefits in the process. To make up a portion of the difference, she’d picked up a second job at the grocery store, but even those shifts had been trimmed to a total of eight hours per week.

  With a heavy heart, she continued sorting, forming two piles as she went—pay now and put off until later. She reached the bottom and opened the final bill. The mortgage. If a miracle didn’t occur in the next month, foreclosure proceedings would begin.

  Where would she and Josh be then? She pinched her temples, warding off the headache.

  Drawing in a
long breath, she debated whether to laugh or cry. More than enough tears had traced her cheeks in the past two years, so she opted to laugh. What else could she do? For Josh’s sake, she had to hold it together. He didn’t need to walk in and see her breaking down. Losing his father a few months before he turned two was a heavy enough burden for him to carry without her adding to the load.

  Lyndsey caught sight of the digital clock on the stove. Go figure, that component worked just fine, the one she could do without. The potluck began in ten minutes, and now she’d be late, on top of not having anything to bring.

  She marched across the kitchen and peeked into the living room. Josh sat in a circle of brightly colored building blocks. In front of him, a towering construction of something—a spaceship, if she had her guess—teetered on a delicate balance. Lifting an arm, Josh placed a blue block on the top, causing the creation to tip over.

  Blocks scattered everywhere.

  Josh’s bottom lip protruded, turning down at the edges.

  Bracing herself, Lyndsey hurried to him. Maybe she could ward off the imminent—

  A loud wail pierced her ears.

  —Tantrum. Her chest deflated as she finished the interrupted thought with a sigh and knelt beside Josh.

  “My rocket ship’s broken,” Josh stuttered between cries.

  “It can be fixed.” Supermom powers kicked in, and she reassembled the blocks in seconds. “See, all good again.”

  The fit ended as quickly as it had begun. Josh broke out into a wide grin, gripping the rocket ship with two hands—one at the bottom and one at the top. He lifted it and ran around the room, zooming the rocket ship through the air.

  Lyndsey stood to her feet, a smile fighting to turn up the corners of her mouth. What difference would a few more minutes make when they were already going to be late? Moments like these kept her going while everything else crashed around her.

  Josh’s smile. His fits of giggles. The imagination he’d inherited from his father. Mark was dead, but he lived on through his carrot-topped son. Nothing could ever fill the hole left by Mark’s premature passing, but Josh kept her heart from hollowing.

  “Time to leave,” she told him after a few minutes more of play.

  “Where are we going?” Stopping mid-zoom, Josh still held the blocks in the air.

  “Remember I told you about the potluck at church tonight?”

  He shook his head. “What’s a potluck?”

  “Everyone brings something to eat and shares with everyone else.”

  “Will there be cookies?” A hopeful smile appeared.

  Lyndsey chuckled. “I imagine Mrs. Di will bring hers.”

  “Yippee.” Cookies trumped toys, at least for today, and Josh discarded the blocks during his sprint to her. “I’m ready.”

  Eyebrows raised, she looked at his white socks. “Put away your toys and then put your shoes on. Mommy will tie them for you.”

  While Josh ran to his room, ignoring the toys, Lyndsey went to her bathroom to perform a quick application of makeup. She dabbed concealer on the dark circles of worry under her lackluster green eyes. Was that really her reflection? Where was her sparkle that Mark had loved so much? Would he be horrified to see his youthful bride was now a haggard mom just barely holding on? The stress from the last several years had aged her so that she looked a decade older than her thirty years.

  But even the aged woman who stared back at her appeared too young to be a widow.

  Some days she thought the first year after Mark’s death was easier to handle than what she felt now. That first year and into the second, shock and grief had left her numb. For Josh’s sake, she continued on, albeit in automatic motions, but in recent months, she was coming out of that coma and having to face the reality of life without her husband.

  Part of coming back to life was feeling again, and the truth was—feelings hurt. More than anyone could imagine unless they’d been there. It was sharp pains that sliced through her at random times, and it was a constant ache that constricted her lungs until she couldn’t breathe.

  “Found my shoes, Mommy.” Josh stood at the bathroom door, his dirty shoelaces a tangled mess. “I tried tying them myself.”

  “I see that.” She blinked away the sullen thoughts, replacing them with a smile. Kneeling down, she undid the knots and tied Josh’s laces in a proper fashion. Before she stood, she kissed his cheek.

  Twenty minutes later, she pulled into the church parking lot, dismayed to see people milling about. She’d hoped to make a quiet entry, not drawing attention to her empty hands, something she didn’t think would be a problem since they were late.

  “Didn’t you say everyone’s s’posed to bring something?” Josh asked as she unbuckled his seatbelt.

  “Yes.” She cringed, imagining where the questioning would lead.

  “Then what did we bring?” He hopped from his seat then onto the ground.

  “Nothing this time, sweetheart.” She bit her bottom lip, praying he wouldn’t launch into twenty questions.

  His hand reached for hers, standard parking lot protocol. “Why not?”

  “I just didn’t.”

  “But you said we’re s’posed to, and you told me to always do things we’re s’posed to do.” Stopping his small stride, he looked at her for an answer.

  She couldn’t negate four-year-old logic. “The oven broke, so I couldn’t cook anything and didn’t have time to make anything else. I’ll make two things next time.”

  “Okay.” Satisfied, Josh smiled then suddenly jerked away, about to break into a run. “I see Damien.”

  Lyndsey lurched out an arm to grab him, but he was too fast. “Joshua Devin Allen, get back here.”

  “Whoa there.” Shep Patterson appeared from behind a vehicle and put his hands on Josh’s shoulders to stop the sprint.

  Relief flooded through her that Shep had stopped Josh. Even in the church parking lot, people tended to drive too fast or back up without looking. She increased her pace, reaching her son in a matter of seconds.

  “Thank you,” she told Shep.

  Before she addressed Josh, she took two deep breaths. “You know better than to run off like that. Do you know what could have happened?”

  Josh tucked his chin to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

  “There will be no cookies for you tonight.”

  “But I want one.” His eyes scrunched and arms crossed.

  “Maybe you’ll remember that next time you run from me in the parking lot.”

  “I want a cookie.” To Lyndsey’s embarrassment, Josh raised his foot and slammed it down in an ambitious stomp.

  Right onto Shep’s boot.

  Heat flood her face. “I’m so sorry.” She brought Josh in front of her, tightly gripping his shoulders.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He shrugged and flipped a hand. “My nephew’s around Josh’s age. I understand.”

  “The tantrums just started a few weeks ago.” Keeping one hand on Josh’s shoulders, she ran the other through her hair until it caught on her ponytail. “Maybe I’m not paying enough attention to him.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing a great job with him.” Shep laid a hand on her shoulder. “Mark would be proud of you.”

  “Thanks.” The beginning of a smile formed on Lyndsey’s face. Then she became all too aware of his touch, which made her uncomfortable in a way she didn’t understand. She looked around the parking lot. “Guess we should get inside. Looks like everyone else already has.”

  Shep lowered his hand to his side. “The parking lot cleared of people fast. They must be hungry.”

  Twisting his small frame, Josh looked at Shep. “Mommy didn’t bring anything because the oven broke.”

  “Shh,” Lyndsey started to hiss, then stopped. He’d done nothing wrong in telling Shep about her problem, and her own embarrassment didn’t warrant the sharp words.

  “Need me to stop by and check it out?” Shep asked as they walked toward the church. “My l
ast appointment for tomorrow cancelled, so I have the time.”

  If only Shep hadn’t done all the work on her house since Mark and she bought it, it would be so much easier to find an excuse to say no. “There’s no rush. Maybe next week sometime.” Or next year when there’s more of a chance I can pay you.

  “Plan on microwaving meals all week?” Shep raised a brow before offering a brief wink.

  “No, it’s just that I hired someone else.” Her pride spit out the lie before she realized what she’d said.

  “Oh.” Surprise and hurt registered in Shep’s crystalline blue eyes, but he blinked them away.

  They reached the door, and Shep opened it for them.

  “Go inside Josh, I’ll be right there.” She released her son’s hand and watched him until she saw Mrs. Tisdale lead him to a table. He’d be in good hands for the next few minutes.

  Shep tilted his head, watching her with an unreadable expression, probably wondering why she wasn’t going in yet. Or why she’d hired someone else—which she hadn’t, nor would she. When it came to repairmen and contractors, Shep was the best around, in quality and trustworthiness. Not to mention, he was a good friend. Back in the day—before Mark and Miranda, Shep’s late wife, passed—they’d spent a lot of time together with their respective spouses. Double dates, summer cookouts, even a trip to the shore one year.

  If nothing else, she owed him an apology. She glanced around, ensuring there was no one within hearing range. Taking two steps backward, she moved from the door and leaned against the bricks.

  “Everything okay?” Shep joined her along the wall.

  She crossed her arms, focusing on the field behind the parking lot. If only she’d kept her mouth shut, she wouldn’t be stuck having to admit she lied, thus making the truth more awkward than it already was. The lure to let Shep continue to think she’d hired someone else tugged at her, but she shoved it aside.

  “I shouldn’t have told you I’d contracted a new repairman.” There, she’d told him the truth. Kind of.