Tom winked. “More than you know.”
“Tom Cat. Can he come this time?” I held my breath.
Olivia Hernandez nodded. “We have plenty of time to make sure he is compliant with Euro P.E.T. regulations for export.”
Agent Adams pulled an envelope from his jacket. “For your efforts in bringing down Robert Westlaw and his kingdom, courtesy of the FBI. There was a bounty on his head.”
Tom tore open the envelope with his finger and eyed the computer generated check with a long whistle.
I craned on tip-toe to look at it. My mouth flew open. “This is more than enough for a down payment on this cabin. Now, we’ll have a place to spend our vacations with our brood of children one day. After all, they need to learn a proper Texas drawl. And develop a taste for guacamole and tacos.”
Tom squeezed my hand. “And breathe the smell of bull dung, and taste the dust of a rodeo in 102° heat.”
We laughed and ended in unison as he twirled me around the screened-in porch. “And how to stomp on cockroaches the size of field mice.”
POSTSCRIPT
When I began to write this sequel to Hush in the Storm, it stagnated on my computer screen for weeks. I just couldn’t get past the first few paragraphs. So, as I prayed about it, the reason why I needed to write the sequel clarified.
My other novels have some redemptive purpose in my characters’ struggles and a social awareness issue to undercurrent the plot, and yet Legitimate Lies didn’t. That was the problem. A literary agent once gave me advice to strengthen my plot for the prequel to this novel, Hush in the Storm, by telling me a good twist would be for Jen to have never had the child she wanted, and to explore her anguish when she learned her husband, Robert, chose an illegal teenager, Marisol, to have his instead. Once I wrote that in, both novels were accepted under contract by Prism Book Group.
The reason for Legitimate Lies soon budded. The underlying plot became as clear as my own hands folded in prayer. Jen had not only been denied a child, she had been persuaded by Robert to end its life before it could be born. Thus, abortion recovery, through God’s forgiving power to those who have chosen that route for their unborn children, came to be the central social awareness issue as well as continuing to expose the evils of human trafficking as I’d done in Hush in the Storm.
Rachel’s Vineyard is an organization which “heals the pain of abortion one weekend at a time.” I heard the Rachel’s Ministries Fort Worth coordinator, Betsy Kopor, speak several years ago at a church meeting and was touched by her personal testimony about her abortion experience and subsequent healing. Since then, two of my church friends have become very involved in the Pro-Life and Right to Life movements in our area, even taking it to the Texas State Capital. I share their enthusiasm.
Because of the involvement of my friends and my church in Rachel Ministries, God had already stirred my heart to help speak out about this issue. I spoke with Mrs. Kopor for some length, and then she graciously provided me with several books and pamphlets to read and study. The more I learned, the more I wanted to be another voice for this worthwhile organization, even though I had never personally experienced the pain of abortion.
Betsy Kopor confirmed that both Jen’s and Robert’s personalities, formed in Hush n the Storm, already fit that of many men and women who have deep-seated guilt over the decision to end their child’s life before it was born. The novel’s plot layers began to piece together like a jigsaw puzzle.
My deepest thanks go to Prism Book Group Editor-in-Chief Joan Alley for all her assistance, advice, and encouragement. Also to my amazing editor, Susan Baganz, for helping to polish this story. I wish to thank Sandy Wright for her hours of plot brainstorming with me in her den overlooking a pond in east Fort Worth, and to Barbara Mills and Gail Kleinschmidt, my two friends so adamant for abortion recovery and right to life for the unborn who helped me become aware of these issues.
If you, or anyone you know, man or woman, has lost a child through abortion, please tell them about Rachel’s Ministries and the Rachel’s Vineyard retreats. They are offered in French, English and Spanish throughout the U.S. and Canada, and are now spreading through the U.K., Europe, and beyond. The weekend experience is God-driven, non-judgmental, compassionate, truthful, and healing for both Catholics and Protestants. An online community is available for each person who experiences a weekend so the healing action can continue at their own pace.
And, if you are in counseling or Christian ministry, be it Roman Catholic, Anglo Catholic or Protestant, please find out how you can become involved in this vital organization begun by Dr. Theresa Burke. Go online to http://www.rachelsvineyard.org for more information and to locate Rachel’s Ministries locations.
May you come to realize, whether it is an abortion—or any other regretful decision in your past—nothing can separate you from the unconditional, forgiving love of God through Christ, Jesus. Nothing, except your own hesitancy to accept it.
Thank you for journeying with Jen and Tom through this novel. I’d be honored if you left a review on Amazon or Goodreads, and then let others know about this story.
Julie B. Cosgrove
Please enjoy this sample from Freed To Forgive by Julie B. Cosgrove, available Fall 2015 from Prism Book Group!
Copyright © Julie B. Cosgrove
Spring, 2023
Marisol Hernandez did a double take. An icy tingle slithered down her arms. She knew that face. One she never thought she’d see again. Jen Westlaw. Except now her name read Wilson?
She back-stepped a few paces to stare at the six foot monitor on the Abundant Life Church’s marquee as it flashed the latest posts from their social media site. She peered into Jen’s pixilated bluish-green eyes displayed on the digital photograph. They beckoned her—once again. Yes, definitely the same woman.
They met in 2013. The year that changed Marisol’s life. The news reported ten years ago she disappeared without a trace and was presumed dead. Yet there she gleamed in 3D color.
A man with a handsome smile stood next to Jen in the photo. Tom, it read. She never learned his name, but she recognized him all right. He’d helped Jen escape. Then he appeared again at the shelter on that horrid day—held Marisol’s hand, whispered she could trust him. She did, and part of her still regretted that decision.
Vivid memories flooded her thoughts, pressing against the emotional dam, which she’d carefully constructed over the past decade. The hurt, once pooled deep inside, rushed from its stagnant state through cracks in her psyche. Waves of her secret torment rolled and crashed within the walls of her heart, threatening to drag her under. She gasped for breath.
“Watch it. Other people use this sidewalk.” A sharp male voice jolted Marisol back to the present. She’d absentmindedly edged into his path.
She dashed her gaze to the concrete. An old habit. Never look a man in the eyes. How that had been pounded into her brain. Her last jefé once beat her with a belt for doing so. Ten lashes. Obey, or suffer. A tough lesson learned for a spirited, angry teenager who’d fought so hard to survive. She twitched her shoulder blade, the old pain jabbing her once again. Some scars never heal. In a low voice, she apologized to the stranger. “Lo siento. Um, sorry.”
“Yeah. Well, this isn’t Mexico.” Disgust vibrated through his words. “Give them some help, and they think they deserve the world.” His grumbling faded with his footsteps.
Her eyes lifted back to the photo of the woman who had changed her destiny. Marisol knew she should be grateful. But she wasn’t. The lady also represented everything ugly, vile, and hurtful that happened to Marisol that year. Too many remembrances, so much shame. A tear trickled down her cheek. Oh, why did she have to see that face again? When could she finally forget?
With arms tight around her torso, the twenty-three year-old Hispanic woman gulped back the emotions that ebbed in her chest. Her life was different now. She spoke excellent English, carried a permanent green card, and held a good job…for which she’d be late if she
didn’t pull it together. So why couldn’t she break her stare. It was as if the eyes…
A hand softly pressed onto her shoulder. “Are you okay, miss?”
Marisol buckled in dread. Another old habit.
Shoes shuffled towards her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. You speak English?”
She bobbed her head.
He bent down to meet her face. A black shirt came into view as a whiff of woodsy men’s cologne filled her nose. A small, wooden cross dangled from beneath his open collar. Marisol dared to raise her eyes, just a touch. They were met by a warm smile. Two strong hands gently clutched her arms. “Come into the church. We can talk. Perhaps I can help you.”
Alarms went off. No. Never go anywhere with a strange man—ever again. Marisol twisted from his grip, gaze returning to the sidewalk.
The man released his hands and held them out, palms up. “My name is Pastor Jake. You can trust me.”
One eye cocked enough to peer into his. Honesty oozed from them. So did reverence, etched by slight crow’s feet. He appeared to be in his late thirties.
A shudder raced under her skin. “No. I…I’ve got to go.” She didn’t deserve to be noticed by anyone who served God. She might taint him with her presence. She willed her shoes to move—away from the man, the marquee, and her memories. But they locked to the sidewalk.
His eyes narrowed. “Do I know you?”
Marisol took a shaky breath. Yes, you do. She recalled him as well, though they only met twice before…ten long and difficult years ago. But she’d never reveal that. To do so would dredge up too much sorrow.
“I’m late for work.” Bottom lip tucked into her teeth, Marisol backed away, forcing her legs to pivot. She shuffled quickly down the street away from the pastor and the photo that dredged up her painful past.
* * *
Jake shook his head. The young woman displayed all the makings of a trafficked victim. Should he call it in to the NHTRC? No, not unless he was more sure. “If I can help her, let our paths cross again, Lord.”
As he jiggled his keys to find the one that unlocked the main doors of the church, the Hispanic woman’s face embedded in his thoughts. Where had he seen her? The workshops over the past eight years attracted quite a few girls. Perhaps she attended one recently. Yet, surely this young woman would have recognized him.
Jake shrugged it off. In three days, the woman who had opened his eyes would be back in his pews. His church was the first on the lecture circuit Jen and Tom planned for their third visit to the United States. Each time, the couple held healing workshops during the summer while their children were out of school. This year, all three would attend church camp in the Texas Hill Country and then stay with Tom’s relatives on their small ranch outside of Austin. The holiday would end with two weeks of family bonding, swimming, and rodeo watching at Tom & Jen’s vacation home on the Pedernales River.
Memories of the screened-in porch cabin along the river filtered in. There, Jen had confessed her secret shame. Jake gave her a pamphlet about the meetings—which he happened to have attended a few weeks prior—that helped women, like her, find healing. That one piece of paper catapulted Jake, Jen, and Tom into a ministry, which now reached into forty countries. When he left seminary for his first church assignment in 2013, little did he know the path God intended to blaze. By His design, Jen had altered Jake’s life as much as she had her own.
As he crossed in front of the altar, Jake couldn’t shake the sense the young Hispanic woman on the sidewalk today was about to change it again.
Look for Freed to Forgive, available Fall 2015 from Prism Book Group!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Freelance writer, author and professional speaker Julie B. Cosgrove leads retreats, workshops, and Bible studies. She writes regularly for several Christian women websites and devotional publications and has been published in the Chicken Soup for the Soul, Upper Room's Devozine and Alive Now, The Secret Place, Light from the Word, Family Faith Magazine online, The Journey and Good News Daily. Julie has three Bible studies, a devotional, an inspirational and three fiction novels published, two with Prism Book Group. She is currently working on two more novels. She is a member of North Texas Christian Writers, Advanced Writers and Speakers Association, American Christian Fiction Writers, Toastmasters International, Daughters of the King, North Texas Christian Women's Chamber and the Christian Writers Network. She’s a spokesperson for Women at Risk International, a Christian missionary effort to rescue women from sex slavery in 30 countries. Julie is widowed, has one grown son, and lives in Fort Worth, TX with two cats.
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