With misty eyes, she attempted the impossible. “Griffin, there’s so much I want to . . .”
But he didn’t wait—he simply lowered his face to hers and kissed her in a way that could have made even the harshest skeptic a believer in second chances.
“To be continued,” he whispered against her mouth before taking hold of her hand and leading her out of her cottage and into a crowd of people who needed the same encouragement Griffin had just offered her.
Gladys, Bradley, and Jason stood at the corner of the stage, giving Abby a nod that assured her all was in place and ready to begin. Their guests were seated, the podium and microphone in place, and the abundant basket filled with tiny tokens of hope was all set to be shared at the completion of the service.
Abby took her place next to Bradley, the first speaker of the day, and she couldn’t help but smile as Jason greeted Griffin with a smack on the back and a too-loud whisper of “Looking forward to hearing you preach, boss.”
If not for the crowd of several hundred people staring up at the stage, she was certain Griffin would have pinned Jason into a headlock in under five seconds flat. But instead, the five of them sobered quickly, ultra-aware of the unique atmosphere surrounding them. Abby scanned the faces of the crowd, overcome by the multitude of townsfolk. Many of the residents in attendance worked weekend retail and service jobs at their local shops and restaurants, sacrificing their time and paychecks to be here this morning. Others were reputable business owners she knew by name, sharing this moment with staff and customers alike. And dozens more were grouped by families—grandparents, parents, and children old and young. But no matter their differing life stages and seasons, all had come for the same cause: to honor the life of a legendary oak tree.
A quiet reverence hovered over the crowd as Bradley opened the service by sharing a brief history of the families who’d homesteaded their town over a century ago, recalling the documented events and records of the live oak throughout the decades. And then, with a pounding heart, it was Abby’s turn to share with her fellow townspeople. Griffin squeezed her hand twice, and she squeezed back before stepping up to the podium.
It took her a minute to catch her breath and find her voice, but then the words were there, waiting and ready for her to share. “Today we say good-bye to a tree that’s become more than just a landmark in our town, but a friend. My father, Arnie Brookshire, used to say, ‘You can never outtalk the listening ear of a tree.’” A gentle laugh rolled through the gathered crowd. “And certainly, that’s been true of our town’s namesake.” She paused, forcing a shaky smile onto her face. “So, as we honor the life of a friend who’s been a listening ear for many of us here today, let’s take some time to reflect on the legacy we’re passing down to our future generations.”
She could feel Griffin’s presence at her back the entire time she spoke, a reassuring support. And when it was time to pass off the microphone to him, he was there, as ready to take the lead as he was to follow.
Abby had always respected Griffin’s unwavering confidence, his ability to direct a crew and communicate a solution as problems arose, but in this moment, it was his willingness to meet a need that she admired most.
“When I first started working with trees,” he began, “I didn’t know much about the components that made up a tree, other than the obvious trunk, branches, and leaves I’ve been drawing since my toddler days.” The crowd chuckled and Griffin smiled good-naturedly. “But the more time I spent with trees, and the people who loved them, I’ve learned a bit more.”
He pulled back from the microphone momentarily to point at the massive oak trunk behind him. “The wood you see behind me has several different functions—all of them layered and complex, all of them formed to meet the needs of a living tree. One layer carries water from roots to leaves. Another transports nutrients. And another, at the very core, offers support and stability. The heartwood’s strength allows the tree to stand through the harshest elements any season and circumstance can bring. It also serves to preserve and protect the tree. Without the heartwood, there would be no tree in any town that could outlive a single generation, much less multiple.”
Griffin reached for Abby’s hand, and she gave it to him willingly, her own heart bursting with pride at the passion in his words. “Our town can learn a lot from the heartwood inside this beautiful old oak. Because its legacy is here—in this town, and in each other. It has lived a life we can be proud of, one of strength and purpose, one that continues, even now, to bring friends and families together.” His gaze moved over the crowd. “It’s our turn to do the same. To be the type of community that supports and strengthens each other. That protects our future by preserving the memories and stories from our past. And above all, to carry on as a living heartbeat, even after our tree is gone.”
Not a single whispered word buzzed through the crowd as he stepped away from the mic stand. A single clap broke through the silence, multiplying into a deafening applause by hundreds of inspired people. Tears shimmered on the cheeks of many, including Abby’s. Oh, how she loved this man—his strength, his heart, his ability to connect God’s creation to His people. He was so much like her father, and yet so different, too.
“In light of what Griffin just shared,” Gladys began, leading them in the last part of the service, the benediction, “this basket of acorns is a gift from our beautiful tree—to you and your families. They are for planting in your yards, your businesses, and in the common areas we walk beside every day. Griffin’s absolutely right—the legacy we’ve been gifted by this tree doesn’t have to end today. It’s our privilege and honor to spread it and share it with others. To enjoy its shade on hot days, its beauty throughout the seasons, and its steadfast, listening ear. May your homes be blessed with love and laughter, and may your hearts be open to receive the gift of God’s beautiful creation. Let’s bow our heads.”
Griffin’s arm snaked around Abby’s shoulders as Gladys spoke a prayer to close out one of the most special moments ever shared in their town. As people lingered around the property, partaking in refreshments, carving their initials into the tree bark and branches, and having their pictures taken at the oak by the professional photographer Annette had hired, Bradley’s voice rang out above the chatter once more.
“One last thing.” He smiled kindly in Abby’s direction. “The inn has arranged to save a large portion of the oak’s wood to use as a gift for our town. The city council has contracted a local artist skilled in creating memorial gardens to share her art with us all. Here, at the inn, we’ll have a trellis made from the oak to stand in our new reflection garden, which will also be designed by the same talented artist and gardener. If you’d like more information on any of this, please contact Abby Brookshire for details. Thank you.”
She smiled back at Bradley, appreciative of all the phone calls and conversations he’d had on her behalf over the last few days regarding a plan for the live oak, and for the new season beginning for them all. Pausing her search for Griffin, who had slipped into the crowd right after the prayer, Abby took note of Annette waiting at the bottom of the stage steps—for Bradley. She handed him a full plate of refreshments, and Abby couldn’t help but note the way he touched Annette’s elbow in gratitude, or the soft curve it brought to her mouth. Perhaps this new season was full of more beginnings than Abby had dared realize.
She found Griffin observing the crowd and the tree from the border of the property. Her heart warmed at his tender gaze as she approached.
“Thank you for doing this today,” he said. “You were right. The town needed this time to reflect on the past so they could plan for a better future.”
“Just like us.” She reached for his hand. “What you said today—it was perfect, Griff.”
“I was honored to have the chance.” He squeezed her hand, and Abby twisted to face him fully.
“You’ve reminded me what hope for tomorrow feels like . . . and it feels like this. It feel
s like you.” She rose on her tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you, Griffin Malone. I always have and I always will.”
As long as she lived, she would never forget the elation on his face. Griffin wrapped his arms around her middle and lifted her clear off the ground, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck. “I’m sure glad you feel that way, Bee, since as of August first, I’ll be a permanent resident of Oak Springs.”
Though they’d discussed his offer to merge Winston’s tree company with his storm cleanup business over the next several months, she hadn’t heard him specify a date—until now. She pulled his face to hers one more time, kissing him in a way that left no room to question her feelings about this new plan. Or about him.
“I love you, Bee. I always have and I always will.” Griffin glanced back at the tree, which might not have long to stand, but whose memory would carry on for a lifetime.
“What do you think? Should we make it official by carving our initials into the bark like the rest of our town is doing?”
“Actually,” she said, pressing a hand to the left side of his chest, “I’d rather carve our names into the heartwood.”
“Even better.”
The End
Acknowledgments
for Heartwood by Nicole Deese
God: Above all, always. There is no joy to be found in writing without you.
My hubby, Tim Deese: Thank you for your endless patience when I say at midnight, “Just one more chapter . . .”
My parents, Stan and Lori Thomas: For walking the hardest grief journey imaginable with grace, empathy, encouragement, vulnerability, and love. I’m honored to be your daughter.
My kiddos, Preston, Lincoln, Lucy Mei: I am one blessed mama. I love all three of you dearly.
Coast to Coast Plotting Society Gals—Amy Matayo, Christy Barritt, Connilyn Cossette, Tammy Gray: Thank you for hashing out the plot details of this little novella with me! And, Christy, your idea for the teenagers chained to the tree was one of my favorite scenes to write! Love you all!
Tammy and Conni: Thank you for reading every chapter (multiple times over!!!). You are my not-so-secret weapons.
Early readers—Kacy Gourley, Jessica Wardell, Joanie Schultz, Renee Deese: Your perspective and love for fiction fuels my hardest writing days and makes my good writing days even brighter!
Jessica Kirkland at Kirkland Media Management: Thank you for agenting me well and for loving me even better.
Bethany House Publishers: Thank you for giving me the privilege to be a part of such a fun and memorable novella collection.
Special Thanks:
Joe Deese (certified arborist, tree climbing specialist, and one fantastic brother-in-law!): Thank you so, so, so much for the many questions you answered regarding ALL THINGS TREES and for doing your best to track my many fictional story trails on our phone calls. You’re the bestest! PS: Thanks for letting me pay you in burgers. I think I still owe you approximately forty-five more or so. . . .
To the brilliant coauthors in this novella collection, The Kissing Tree—Regina Jennings, Karen Witemeyer, Amanda Dykes: It was such a pleasure to work with you lovely ladies on this project. Thanks for being such a positive group of writers and for sharing your precious stories with our world. Much love to you all!
About the Authors
Regina Jennings is a graduate of Oklahoma Baptist University with a degree in English and a minor in history. She’s the winner of the National Readers’ Choice Award, a two-time Golden Quill finalist, and a finalist for the Oklahoma Book of the Year Award. Regina has worked at the Mustang News and at First Baptist Church of Mustang, along with time at the Oklahoma National Stockyards and various livestock shows. She lives outside of Oklahoma City with her husband and four children and can be found online at www.reginajennings.com.
Christy Award finalist and winner of the ACFW Carol Award, HOLT Medallion, and Inspirational Reader’s Choice Award, bestselling author Karen Witemeyer writes historical romance to give the world more happily-ever-afters. Karen makes her home in Texas, with her husband and three children. Learn more about Karen and her books at www.karenwitemeyer.com.
Amanda Dykes is a drinker of tea, dweller of redemption, and spinner of hope-filled tales who spends most days chasing wonder and words with her family. She’s a former English teacher and the author of Whose Waves These Are, a Booklist 2019 Top Ten Romance debut, as well as Set the Stars Alight and several novellas. Find her online at www.amandadykes.com.
Nicole Deese’s (www.nicoledeese.com) humorous, heartfelt, and hope-filled novels include a Carol Award winner and RITA Award and INSPY Award finalists. When she’s not working on her next contemporary romance, she can usually be found reading one by a window overlooking the inspiring beauty of the Pacific Northwest. She lives in small-town Idaho with her happily-ever-after hubby, her two wildly inventive and entrepreneurial sons, and her princess daughter with the heart of a warrior.
Instagram: Bethany House Fiction
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Table of Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Contents
Broken Limbs, Mended Hearts (Regina Jennings) Contents
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
Inn for a Surprise (Karen Witemeyer) Contents
Dedication
Epigraph
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
Epilogue
From Roots to Sky (Amanda Dykes) Contents
Dedication
Epigraph
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
Epilogue
Heartwood (Nicole Deese) Contents
Dedication
Epigraph
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
Acknowledgments
About the Authors
Back Ads
Back Cover
List of Pages
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