Ryan watched as Gramps stepped out and shut the door. He offered no “I hate that for you, son.” No “I’m so sorry.” Ryan frowned as he looked back at the screen. Jimmy Stewart raked his hand through his hair in grievous frustration. Without the money, his place would close and so would his life. Money. It’s always about money, and I’m sick of it.
❧
“Just a minute!” Kylie called through the apartment when the doorbell rang. She grabbed an oven mitt then pulled the Christmas cookies from the oven. “I’m coming.” After taking the mitt off her hand, she brushed a few wayward wisps of hair behind her ear.
She peeked through the peephole. “Gramps?” After opening the door, Kylie motioned for him to come inside. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?”
“Good.”
She pointed toward the couch, then sat in a chair. Wringing her hands, her heart sped in nervous anticipation. She had no idea what Ryan had said and if Gramps was mad or hurt or what. “Have a seat. How’s—how’s Ryan?”
“Miserable.” Gramps didn’t move. Instead, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
Kylie looked at her hands. She picked at a chip in one of her fingernails as a mixture of relief and sadness filled her spirit. “Oh.”
“Is that all you have to say? ‘Oh’?”
She gazed up at the older man. He’d cared about her from the moment she met him. He was the perfect gramps, a little rough around the edges, a bit of a spitfire, too, but with a heart filled with love, generosity, and loyalty. Her grandparents died when she was young, and she’d enjoyed Ryan’s grandfather as if he were her own. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“All right. Let’s figure this out, because I’m thinkin’ your feelings for Ryan run deeper than you want to admit.”
“Well. . .”
He scratched his gray-stubbled jaw with his fingers and paced the floor. “When you met Ryan, you thought he was a bit of a yahoo—”
Kylie’s mouth dropped open. “How would you know—?”
He raised his hand to stop her. “Ryan mentioned it.”
Her cheeks blazed hot at the memory, at the thought of what he must have felt when he heard her talking. People never ceased to surprise her. As soon as she was sure she had someone pegged, she’d learn there was more to them than she realized. “I judged him wrong.”
Gramps clucked his tongue. “Which is why God tells us not to judge people.”
Kylie nodded, feeling the swell of emotion in her throat. “You’re right. God and I have talked a lot about that over the last few days.”
Gramps smiled as he paced away from her. “You thought Ryan was a poor guy, one who didn’t even work a full-time job. Can’t say I blame you for not wanting to jump into a relationship with him. He was a bit silly not to trust God with you from the very beginning.”
Kylie smiled. At least Gramps understood why she’d been blown away.
Gramps sat on the couch across from her. “But now you know the truth. You know he has the means to provide for you. You know he didn’t tell you because of what happened in his past. I believe you know he loves you with all his heart, and you love him. It’s nothing more than pride and arrogance that keeps you from him.”
“You’re right.”
“Huh?”
Kylie giggled. “You’re right. It’s been pride. I’ve had my mind on one goal for so long. The one I know God did give me. I just wasn’t prepared for how God planned to bless me with it. I thought He would give me a job in a prestigious company with a business-oriented husband all wrapped up in a neat package.” She stood, walked to the table, and picked up the handmade Christmas card she’d made for Ryan. “But God had a different plan. A better one. Ryan.”
Gramps leaned back in his seat. He tapped the arm of the couch as he bit his lip, then chuckled. “You were heading over to the house to talk to Ryan, weren’t you?”
Kylie nodded. “Just as soon as I got up the courage.”
“I’d be happy to go with you.”
“I think I’d appreciate that.”
Gramps stood and walked toward her. He wrapped his arms around her, and Kylie savored his hug of understanding and acceptance. “That boy’s been unbearable. I’d like to get you on over there just as quick as I can.”
Kylie laughed and squeezed him tight one more time. “Let’s go.”
“You can ride over there with me, then Ryan’ll have to bring you home.” A twinkle lit Gramps’s eye, and he winked at her.
Nervousness filled Kylie’s gut as she slipped her shoes on and grabbed her coat, and they headed toward the front door. Ryan may be miserable to live with, but that didn’t mean he was ready to welcome Kylie into his heart with open arms. She opened the front door and ran into a mass of man. “Ryan?”
❧
“Kylie.” Ryan lowered his hand from the doorbell. Deciding he couldn’t take it anymore, he’d turned off It’s a Wonderful Life and headed to her apartment to talk with her one more time. He looked past Kylie. “Gramps? What are you doing here?”
Gramps buttoned the top of his coat and moved past Kylie and out the door. “I reckon it’s time for me to go on home.”
“Gramps.” Ryan glared at his grandfather. “What were you doing?”
“Go on in there.” Gramps practically pushed him into Kylie. “Talk to the woman.” He hustled down the sidewalk. He mumbled, “Didn’t I say I was too old for all this? Young people these days. . .”
Ryan turned back toward Kylie. Her eyes sparkled, but he couldn’t decide if that was from happiness at seeing him or nervousness that he was there. “Can I come in?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah.” She stepped backward and tried to pull off her coat all in one motion, then tripped on the rug. Her arms flailed in an attempt to catch herself.
Ryan tried to grab her arm to stop her fall. Instead, he gripped the coat sleeve and her arm slipped through it. She landed with a thud on the floor. Ryan stepped forward to help her. “Oh, Ki, are you—”
His foot caught on the rug and he launched forward, landing on his hands and knees beside her. “Ouch.” He turned over and sat beside her, rubbing his knees. “You didn’t have to drag me down here. I’ve already fallen for you.”
“Ryan, are you okay?” She took his hands in hers and rubbed the red spots on his palms.
Ryan clasped both her hands in his. “I came over here to tell you I love you. I’m not letting you get away from me. I’m going to sit right here in your living room until we talk everything out and I’ve convinced you that we belong together.”
She lowered her gaze and slipped her hands from his. “Do you mind if we sit somewhere besides here?” She pointed to the open front door. “It’s kind of cold outside.”
He hopped to his feet, shut the door, then reached down and helped her up. He held her close and peered into her eyes for the briefest of moments. “I love you, Ki.”
Letting go of her hand, he walked farther into the apartment. “It’s like this. I was convinced you had feelings for Brad. I was afraid you were like Vanessa. Yes, my heart told me that wasn’t true, but I was so focused on the past that I wasn’t listening to God clearly.”
He walked toward her again. “I should have told you from the beginning. Of course, you were afraid I couldn’t provide for a family. I was—”
“Ryan.” She grabbed his hand in hers, caressing his palm with her thumb. Fire raced through him, blazing a trail of desire to convince her to be his wife. After all, God had brought them together.
“You have to understand—”
“Ryan.” She lifted up on tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. She lowered to her height and gazed into his eyes. “You gotta hush a minute.”
Ryan swallowed. The sweet softness of her lips took him by surprise. He was hushed. Stunned to utter silence better described it. “Kylie.” He leaned toward her to claim another kiss, one that he could enjoy without surprise.
She pushed a paper into his hand. “I wa
s coming to your house to give you this.”
Ryan looked at the homemade card that had a photo of himself dressed as Santa in the Christmas parade. In it, he held a small candy cane in his hand, offering it to a child. Opening the card, he saw pictures cut from magazines. First of a chocolate ice-cream cone, then a clown suit. Next was a cutout of canned foods and cereal boxes, then a winter coat. She’d taken a picture of her Christmas pole and glued it on there as well. Around the edges of the card were crayon-drawn, stick-figure people holding hands.
Kylie cleared her throat. “I’m not overly crafty. Look at the back. That’s what I was getting at.”
The back contained no pictures, just Kylie’s handwriting. She expressed her journey over the last several months with him—how she’d found him to be the most generous, loving person she’d ever known. She shared how God had showed her to pursue Him, not specific goals. Ryan’s heart warmed as she wrote how she’d fallen in love with him, the man, before learning he could provide for her.
“I still love the man.” Kylie quoted the last sentence of her letter. Her face flushed and she lowered her gaze. “It’s kind of a silly thing, a full-grown woman making a man a homemade card, but I—”
Ryan closed the card, laid it on the table, then wrapped his arms around her. “It’s the best present I’ve ever received. Only one could be better.”
He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out the ring box. After popping it open, he lowered to his knee and took her hand in his. “I love you. Marry me.”
Her eyes lit with merriment as she knelt beside him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. “Absolutely,” she replied after she pulled away.
Ryan huffed as he placed the ring on her finger. “You’ve kissed me twice today. I have yet to kiss you.”
“You take too long.” She claimed his lips again.
“Never again.” He stood and helped her up. Wrapping his arms around her, he lifted her up and kissed her with the fullness of his love. He lowered her to her feet, then brushed her hair away from her face. He caressed her soft cheek with his thumb. “I’m holding on to you for the rest of my life.”
Twenty-two
May
Ryan felt the buttons on his tuxedo jacket to be sure he hadn’t missed one. He raked his fingers through his hair.
“Nervous?” Gramps, his best man, poked Ryan’s side.
“A little.”
“No cold feet.” Dalton leaned over past Gramps. He nodded toward his other brothers, Gideon and Cameron, as well as Tyler. “We’ll take you out if you even consider leaving our big sis at the altar.”
Tyler laughed at Ryan. “I believe they could take you, friend.”
Dalton winked and showed his newly covered ring finger. “Nah, seriously. It’s a piece of cake.”
Ryan watched as Dalton waved at his bride, Tanya. She blushed as she fidgeted with one of Amanda’s twin sons. The other started to fuss, and Amanda’s husband picked him up. The only baby girl in the family, Natalie’s new daughter, sat contently on her daddy’s lap.
A laugh formed in Ryan’s gut as he thought of the ever-growing family he was marrying into. He and Gramps had lived so long with only each other. Both of them relished becoming part of Kylie’s family. “Don’t worry, Dalton. I’m not going anywhere.”
“We’re about to begin,” the minister whispered to them.
Ryan straightened his shoulders, watching as one of their ushers escorted Kylie’s tearful mother to her place in the audience. She smiled at Ryan as she scanned the row of groomsmen—his grandfather, all three of her sons, and Tyler. Ryan knew Mrs. Andrews thanked God for each of her children and their choices in spouses. Ryan felt blessed and honored that she and Mr. Andrews approved of him.
The music began and Chloe, Kylie’s youngest sister, made her way to the front. Next came her oldest sister, Sabrina. “Mommy!” her barely two-year-old son yelled from his father’s lap. Everyone laughed as her husband whispered in the small boy’s ear. The child squirmed and waved until Sabrina finally motioned for him to stand beside her at the front. He toddled forward, grabbed her leg, then popped his thumb into his mouth.
“What a cutie,” Gramps whispered.
Ryan nodded. Anticipation welled in him as another sister, Natalie, walked toward the altar. Next came Robin, then Amanda. Kylie had deemed them both her matrons of honor. Ryan squeezed his fists. With all her last-minute errands and hair appointments and whatever else she did, he’d only seen Kylie at the rehearsal and the dinner that followed. They’d hardly spoken two words together that someone else hadn’t instructed them to say. And it was killing him.
Kylie and her father stepped into the aisle. Ryan sucked in his breath.
“She’s a beauty, even with her face covered,” Gramps whispered.
Ryan couldn’t respond. He nodded and asked God to help him remember every detail of his bride as she and her father walked toward him.
“Who gives this woman to this man?” the minister’s voice boomed through the church.
“Her mother and I do.” Kylie’s father lifted the veil over her face and kissed her cheek. Her gaze found Ryan’s. Ready to claim his bride, Ryan puffed out his chest, longing to shout to the world that beautiful Kylie Andrews had chosen him.
He took her hand in his and led her to the altar where they made their vows. The promise, the covenant, the commitment weighed his heart with a heaviness of bliss and contentment. In sickness, in health, in good, in bad, whatever life held, he would honor his vows to the woman God had given him.
When the minister instructed, he kissed her as his wife, then took her hand in his and faced their family and friends.
“I now present to you,” the minister addressed the audience, “Mr. and Mrs. Ryan Watkins.”
Ryan scooped her into his arms and started down the aisle.
“You’re supposed to carry me over the threshold of our home,” she whispered into his ear, trying to control her giggles.
“I told you I’d never take too long again.” He kissed her cheek.
She nestled into his chest. “You did say never again.”
“Never again.”
❧
Kylie glanced down at her watch, afraid they would miss their plane to Belize. The missions trip in January had been an experience she’d never forget. She’d fallen in love with the people in the community. They were planning another trip in two months, in July. Today, they’d go as honeymooners and visit their friends there. “Are you sure you have to have whatever it is you forgot?”
Ryan smiled and tapped the steering wheel. “I thought I could wait, but I can’t.”
Kylie scrunched up her nose. “What?”
He turned the corner and started toward his house. “Close your eyes, Ki.”
“What is going on?” She clamped her lips in a straight line, trying not to smile at him.
His lips bowed up. He bit the bottom and frowned, in a pitiful attempt not to grin. “Just close them.”
“Okay.” Kylie shut her eyes, then popped one open.
“Kylie Watkins!”
She squished them shut. “I like the sound of that.”
“Me, too.” He stopped the car and hopped out. Everything in Kylie wanted to open her eyes and look around, but she didn’t want to spoil his surprise. Her door opened, and Ryan’s hand took hers.
“Can I open them?”
“Nope.” He gently pushed her head down then out of the car. “Be careful.” He wrapped his arm around her as he guided her steps. Her heels crunched against the gravel driveway. “Okay, open your eyes.”
Kylie opened them to find Gramps standing in front of her, holding a small, golden retriever puppy. “Oh.” Kylie took him in her arms. “He’s so cute.”
“Didn’t you say you wanted a godly husband, two kids”—he gathered her in his arms and whispered in her ear—“which I’m willing to work on. . .”
Her neck and cheeks warmed under his sincere, longing g
aze.
He continued, “A dog and—”
She smiled and lifted her eyebrows to tease him. “I think you’re forgetting something.”
“No, Ki, I’m not.” He turned her around, and she gasped. A white picket fence scaled the entire front of his home. One of his handmade poles stood next to the porch with their names written on the sign and two cardinal birds perched on top.
“A white picket fence.” Kylie held the puppy closer to her chest, then gazed up at the man of her dreams. The man who listened to all the things she longed for. The man who wanted her to have them all.
“Oh, Ryan.” She put the puppy down in the yard then touched Ryan’s cheek with her hand. “There isn’t a more wonderful man for me in all the world.”
She stood on tiptoes and kissed his lips. With all her heart, she had pursued what she thought God had called her to—a family, a job, stability. When she finally gave over control to her heavenly Father, He lavished her with everything she had ever pursued. She gazed at her new husband. Only more. Right down to the white picket fence.
About the Author
Jennifer Johnson and her unbelievably supportive husband, Albert, are happily married and raising Brooke, Hayley, and Allie, the three cutest young ladies on the planet. Besides being a middle school teacher, Jennifer loves to read, write, and chauffeur her girls. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers. Blessed beyond measure, Jennifer hopes to always think like a child—bigger than imaginable and with complete faith. Send her a note at [email protected].
Dedication
To my oldest daughter, Brooke. What a treasure you are! I’m so proud of your desire to live your life for the Lord. May you never cease to pursue Him.
Thank you, Rose McCauley, for your continual faithfulness in critiquing my work and for being such a sweet friend.
Thank you, Albert, Brooke, Hayley, and Allie, for your constant support for and patience with your loony wife and mommy.
Robin, you are such a dear friend. I thank God for you.
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