by MK Harkins
***
Angela
Two months later
IVY’S LITTLE FACE shone bright with welcome. I put my suitcase on the bed in our little hut. I’d been gone for two months, getting my life squared away. I wouldn't be returning back to the States, at least not anytime soon. My life was here now, with Ivy and my new family.
I sat on the worn quilt and pulled Ivy onto my lap. “I’ve missed you so much!”
She put her arms around my neck and began to cry.
“I promise, Ivy, I won’t leave again. I’m making it legal, like I told you. I’ll be your mom for real.”
“For real?” she repeated.
“Yes. That’s why I’ve been gone, you know. It’s the only reason I left.”
I would have taken her, but it would have taken longer to get her a passport than to get the adoption. I’d expected more obstacles—but, with the help of an attorney friend of Dottie’s, they had it almost complete. Once the adoption finalized, I could schedule her operation.
Ivy’s life began so poorly, I was determined to make the rest of it as normal as possible. We would remain here, at the orphanage. I’d started my journey in Romania empty. But the beauty of this place captured me, giving me the faith and the roots I needed, but never had. All my happiness was tied here—Dottie, Jerome, and all of the children. I would give back instead of taking. My life’s journey would mean something, and I knew it would as long as I remained here.
I spent the better part of my two months back home making amends to the people I’d hurt—high school friends, college friends, acquaintances. They were all surprised, but none more than Tiffany. I contacted her first to clear the way to Braydon and Jain. I’d treated them—especially Braydon—horribly. I didn’t expect their forgiveness, but they both deserved an apology at the very least.
It took two hours and many pictures of the orphanage and Ivy to convince Tiffany I didn’t have an ulterior motives to meet with Braydon and Jain. She remembered the old Angela, the young girl who wasn’t filled with selfish pride. Finally, she said she’d try to arrange a meeting.
Both Jain and Braydon were tight-lipped when I entered the café where they agreed to meet me. I walked in and sat across from them.
“There’s no excuse I can give you. All I can say is, I’m profoundly sorry,” I started.
“Tiffany feels you’ve changed. It’s hard for me to believe. This cruelty of yours has run long and deep,” Braydon responded.
“You’re right.” I told him. “I’ve done some awful things. I plan to spend the rest of my life making up for it.”
Jain asked, “What prompted your change?”
Only one word came to mind. “Ivy.” Actually a second. “And Stefan,” I added. Pure and simple love changed me.
I told them all about life in Romania, how I was supposed to teach the children, but they’d ended up teaching me. Life didn’t need to be complicated. At first, I explained, I had been confused. How could these children be happy with so little? I’d always believed in the “more is better” philosophy. But I’d learned that more just meant more. It didn’t bring peace, or joy, or happiness.
I also expressed my admiration for them. Against all odds, they’d found their way back to each other. I felt a pang of guilt when I talked about it.
My mind wandered back to Stefan again. I needed to practice what I preached.
Forgiveness.
I apologized again, and they wished me well. I accomplished what I’d set out to do. The burdens from my past lifted from me, leaving me with a lightness and a clarity. I knew what I would do.
Stefan either called or texted me every day since I left. I hadn’t responded yet. At first, they were messages that asked forgiveness. He felt bad for thinking I was capable of putting Tiffany’s life at risk. I thought I could forgive him for that. He occupied a front row seat when I’d first arrived to Rau Sadelui. Upon reflection, I couldn’t totally blame him for his knee-jerk reaction. But, I’d been a different person when I arrived. The hard part for me was knowing it might happen again down the road. If something went wrong, would he always doubt me? If I forgave him, could I forget? Could he forget? That was the question I’d struggled with during my two months away.
He didn’t make it easy to forget him, though. He tried to contact me by phone for a week. Then the text messages began. At first, I couldn’t figure them out. But after the fifth one, it dawned on me. He used passages from the book he’d given me as a gift. Quotes from Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy came every day without fail. With each message, my heart started to thaw, and a smile would form on my lips. Stefan would change a few words around to suit him, but the meanings in each quote were clear.
“Till this moment I never knew myself”
“I am heartily ashamed of myself, Angela”
“He felt depressed beyond anything he had ever known before”
“It is wonderful, for almost all his actions may be traced to pride;-and pride has often been his best friend”
“Dearest, loveliest Angela. By you, I was properly humbled”
"What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous”
“How hard it is in some cases to be believed! And how impossible in others!”
The past couple weeks, the same messages came through, but the tone was different.
“In vain, I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will no longer be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you”
The last one:
“I love you. Most ardently”
***
I WOULD SEE Stefan today. The doubts were gone. If he still questioned my integrity, so be it. I’d prove him wrong. Every single day.
Ivy left to eat lunch in the cafeteria with her friends, so I remained seated on my bed and waited, not so patiently, for him to arrive. After a few minutes of tapping my feet and fidgeting with the buttons on my shirt, a strong knock sounded on my door.
This was it.
I opened the door, and, sure enough, Stefan stood there, looking even more glorious than I remembered. Studying him, I noticed the tightness of his jaw, now covered with dark stubble. His wavy, black hair looked as if he’d been rubbing it, perhaps from worry, making it stick out at all angles.
He cocked his head to the side, and those beautiful, blue eyes of his bored into mine, searching, looking for signs of rejection.
What drew my eye, though, was what he held in his hand. I recognized the wildflowers from the east field. He must have picked them from where the foundation was laid for the little home I’d soon share with Ivy. But those flowers, with their vibrant shades of red, blue, purple, and yellow, had been grasped in his hands for a while. The outer bunch had given up the fight and pitched over the side, covering his hand and wrist.
Stefan wouldn’t give up, though, and neither would I.
Should I make him suffer a little more?
I realized the good, stubborn part of me was alive and well. I lifted an eyebrow and said, “That’s as good as you can do?” as I looked at the wilted flowers.
He examined me, my smile and body language. I was right; he did know me better than anyone. A relieved smile formed on his perfectly shaped lips, the ones I was about to kiss. Passionately.
“Yes,” he answered with a grin.
My soul completed its final hurdle.
Forgiveness.
“Well, they’re good enough for me.”
He stepped into the hut, throwing the flowers on the small dresser. Cupping my face in his two strong hands, he brushed his lips over mine and whispered, “Welcome home.”
And there it was. He was right.
I was home.
***
Tiffany
Two Years Later
“I’M BLISSFULLY IN love with you, you know that?” Todd spoke softly in my ear.
“Mmm hummm. Now let me sleep.” It wasn’t a request.
We were in our huge, oversized king
bed, with the comforters, silk sheets, and pillows in disarray. A deep chuckle emanated from Todd.
“They say romance never dies.” He poked me in my side.
I flipped over and knocked him onto his back, surprising him. I grabbed his wrists and pinned them next to his sides. “You want romance?” I asked. “Now?”
“Yeah.” His grin took up most of his face.
“We’ve had two hours sleep!”
“Coffee?” he asked. “You know, Mrs. Jameson, I’d do anything for you.”
Ever since we married, almost two years now, he’d taken to calling me by my married name.
“Lucy will think her mom’s name is Mrs. Jameson if you keep that up.” I tightened my hold on his wrists.
“Speaking of Lucy, I think I heard her ask for a little brother or sister.”
“Todd.”
“Yes?”
“A six-month-old baby can’t speak. Also…really? You’re thinking about another baby so soon?”
“Not now, of course, but someday.” He sighed. “I just love her so much.”
Lucy had Todd wrapped around her finger from the moment she was born. When they were together, the bond between them was unmistakable. He spent his days holding, tickling and laughing with her. She was a daddy’s girl, through and through.
I released him and flipped onto my back. We held hands while we both looked at the ceiling.
“I can’t believe it’s two years ago today,” I said. Todd and I liked to hang out and talk for at least an hour before we started our day. Today was no different. “I still feel bad about Erik.”
Todd turned toward me and smoothed the hair from my face. “I’ll always be grateful to him for saving you. His last act on earth was a brave one. His life wasn’t wasted.”
I scooted closer to him. “You saved me, too.”
“How’s that?” he asked.
“Well, from Deanna, for one,” I sighed.
“I have no sympathy for her. No prison sentence will be long enough as far as I’m concerned.” He paused. “I wonder if they’ll ever be able to prove Fletcher helped his mom with the kidnapping plot.”
“I doubt it, if he was involved, they buried it deep. Deanna swears he had nothing to do with her scheme.”
“I don’t want to think about him today.” He wrapped his arm around me and asked, “What else did I save you from?”
“You know, from a life of loneliness and cats.”
“We have two cats,” he reminded me.
I put my head on his shoulder. “I meant the combination. I love George and Bailey, but it wouldn’t be the same if I were lonely.”
“I know what you mean.” He placed a gentle kiss on my lips and said, “I didn’t know it could be this good.”
I lifted my eyes and looked into his. My heart thumped in my chest. How did I get so lucky?
“I love our life together. I couldn’t be happier.” His lips met mine again, this time, the kiss sizzled and sent sparks right to my toes. He gently pushed me onto my back and covered my body with his. Kissing me again, he threaded his fingers with mine and lifted them above my head and grinned. “You’re all mine,” he said.
The monitor with Lucy’s baby gibberish interrupted what he’d started.
I giggled. “And she’s ours. I think it’s my turn.”
“Nope. I’ve got this.” He jumped out of bed. “Hey, are we still having the gang over tomorrow night?”
“Yes, we’ll have a full house. Braydon, Jain, Tiffany, and Riley. Colin and Charlie plan to bring the twins.” I watched as he winced. The last time they visited, mayhem ensued.
“They’re just going through the terrible twos. I’ve hidden the crayons, so they won’t be able to draw on the walls again.” Colin and Charlie married a year ago, which made me very happy. Shortly after, they adopted the twins, Francis and Sally, from Angela’s orphanage in Romania. She alerted them of the opportunity, and they ran with it. Both Colin and Charlie liked to joke and say they got two for the price of one.
“How many kids has Angela placed so far?” he asked.
“I think around twelve. At this rate, she’s going to run herself out of business.” I laughed.
He left the room shaking his head, muttering, “Who would have guessed?”
Todd changed Lucy’s diaper, brought her back to our room, and plopped her into my arms. She smelled fresh, like only a baby could. I rubbed my nose along her neck, drinking in her goodness. She smiled and cooed at me.
“Coffee?” Todd asked.
“That sounds heavenly.”
He leaned down and kissed us both before he headed toward the kitchen on his new mission.
This was our life. A wonderful, messy, chaotic, and beautiful life. There was only one word to describe it.
Spectacular.
The End
Dear Readers,
I wasn’t sure if I was going to write a spin-off to Breaking Braydon. But, because of all the support and enthusiasm (and emails!) I decided to go ahead and give it a try. I hope you’ve enjoyed it! That is and always will be my goal.
If you like this book, there are lots of ways to show your support (and help an indie author) – recommend the book to a friend, write a review (which helps immensely!) share on Facebook and other social media.
I’ll throw it back to you—the readers. Should there be another spin-off? The title “Stealing Stephan” came to mind. Here is what I have so far (Really, I’m not kidding…this is all)
Chapter One
Stephan
God. I hated her.
Blonde hair, perfectly shaped pouty lips, and a body to tempt a priest or a gay man—or anyone for that matter. She had it all – except for a soul, apparently.
“Don’t you just want to hurl yourself off the nearest cliff?” she screamed at me.
**Suggestions? Should I continue?
Places You Can Find Me
Email: [email protected]
Website: http://www.mkharkins.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/marilyn.wellnitz
Twitter: @mk_harkins
Acknowledgments
What would an author do without their beta readers? Not much, I can assure you! They help in all sorts of wonderful ways – from “You need more” to “You need less”, “I love this!” or “This is bad!” lol. The following have helped in so many ways, I can’t count!
Graham Jones – He stuck with me through the entire book! (I joined a critique group, Scribophile, and he was nice enough to critique even though he doesn’t usually read romance.) Because of Graham, I don’t have any “Horrible clichés”. Lol – well, maybe one or two have slipped in. Seriously, because of his honest (some might say brutal – I say appreciated) suggestions, I know Taking Tiffany is a better book than when I started.
Nancy Saling Thompson: I remember when I read her first book, The Mistaken, I thought, “Wow. This author has serious talent!” When Nancy asked to read my first book, “Intentional” I told her “Over my dead body”. It almost came to that. Since then, we’ve both been on this journey together. When Nancy gives me a suggestion, I listen! (If you haven’t read her work – run and buy a copy - The Mistaken, Leverage and Stirred – you won’t be sorry!). Thank you for your encouragement and support – I couldn’t admire you more!
Amy Mcglone (Rebels and Readers Book Blog) Amy’s been with me since the beginning. She always makes herself available to help (And she has GREAT suggestions). I appreciate it more than words.
Donna Feyen (More Than a Review) I always blush when you send your feedback (So nice!). I want you to be my beta forever.
Maari Hammond – You have to be the best reader fan and supporter of Indie Authors I know. Your love and encouragement keeps me going (Even on those days I ask myself – “Why am I an author anyway?”) lol
Kendra (Lola Kay) Sikorski - I think I might write my books just for you. I love your enthusiasm!! I always ask myself, “What would Lola like?”
Mylis
sa Demeyere from Mylissa’s Reviews and Book Thoughts – I always tell myself “emotion – I must have more emotion” when I think of you. This book has an extra dash- just for you!
Dana Mason (Author of the Embrace Series - Dangerous Embrace, Precious Embrace and Broken Embrace. All great books!) You're a wonderful author and a terrific beta! You swooped in and helped me smooth out all the wrinkles. Thanks to you, things were clarified and the action scene at the end makes sense.
Melesia Tully, Jerri Burgess, Lydia Williams, Gina Marquita Fiserova, Lousie Adrian, Cyndi Maurer, Leanne Hawkes, Jan Hinds, Chloe Meyer, Samantha Madison, Danette Hansen, Jacqueline M. Sinclair, Luciana Erwin, Nicole Neisen
To my editors: Nancy Saling Thompson (Author and Editor) and Karen Harper (Purple Orchid Editing) Thank-you for your expertise! I couldn’t had don it without ya (lol – you get the picture)
Julie Hartnett – You may not give feedback on my books – but you’re in there! Your humor and warmth burrow into my soul and onto the pages – Thank you for the friendship and support!
Robin Harper (Wicked by Design) – for another absolutely beautiful cover!
Sister Laurel, Laurie or Elore (Depending on the mood) You are an inspiration to me! You get knocked down – but, you get up even stronger than before. Last year was the worst – let’s make next year the very best!
Last, but certainly not least, my family. They continually have to watch me go into “the other world” where characters speak to me (Or yell in some cases). When my family talks to me during these times, I may shake my head and agree – but they know. I’ve told my fourteen-year-old daughter she can buy a new jet, fly to Europe and go on a million dollar shopping spree to prepare.