Becca retrieved Bert’s letter from the table next to her chair. “Read this.”
Jared unfolded the sheet and she watched his gaze travel down the letter.
“Where did you get this?”
“I found it in the sideboard. It looked like it had slipped between one of the drawers and the wall of the sideboard before Bert could have someone mail it for him.”
“So the Sheriff knew my father wasn’t driving and let him go to jail for the one illegal thing he didn’t do. He hated Dad, my family, that much.”
Becca shivered in the muggy night air. Jared’s voice was too calm, too modulated and the laugh that followed his words too harsh.
“No.” She held out her hand, not knowing if he’d take it. Relief and strength filled her when he did and gently stroked the top of her hand with his thumb. “I talked with him. The Sheriff didn’t know until the week before Bert died, although he suspected shortly after your father got out of jail when Bert wrote a will leaving his property to Debbie. The Sheriff said Bert had made an offhand comment that had made him feel Bert named Debbie as his heir because he’d thought the Sheriff knew he was driving and had kept his mouth shut. Bert told him about the letter and what he was putting in it.”
“The Sheriff’s reference to blood money makes sense now. He knew that Bert had made his bequests to us to try and compensate for what he’d done to Dad.” Jared pulled his hand from hers and threw himself off the lounge to pace the deck. He stopped next to her chair, loomed over her. “You talked with the Sheriff. What else did he say?”
“Sit down and I’ll tell you.”
With obvious reluctance he did, tapping the arm of the chair closest to her with his fingers.
Becca recapped her confrontation with the Sheriff.
“The Sheriff and my mother,” he said when she finished. “I can’t fault him for hating my father for the way he treated Mom. I did for a long time, too, until a pit pastor led me back to my faith.”
Becca released her pent-up breath.
“You trust the Sheriff, that he’ll get Matt to drop the Family Court petition, and you’re okay letting Ari and Brendon visit him and Debbie in Florida?” His eyes narrowed. “He’s not forcing you to sign an agreement in exchange for making the Family Court petition go away?”
“No. It was my idea. I’m more comfortable with Brendon and Ari being with their grandparents than with their father, and they like spending time with Ken and Debbie. After we talked, I prayed long and hard for the strength to forgive the Sheriff for what he’s done to my family and your family, and I found it in the knowledge that he has to live with what he’s done. I also prayed that he and you would be able to have the peace I’ve found in forgiveness. Can you forgive him?”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “I have to or it will eat at me, affect our lives forever. But he can’t move out of Paradox Lake too quickly for me.”
Becca laughed, breaking the tension.
Jared rose and offered her his hands. She let him pull her to her feet. For a silent moment, she looked at him framed by the night sky. A sense of rightness that she’d never felt before cloaked her. “I love you,” she whispered.
He looked down at her without saying anything, making Becca wonder if she’d spoken those words or only thought them.
Jared cleared his throat. “I know it’s too soon to ask you to marry me, but this is fair warning that that’s my plan.”
She squeezed his hand. “And this is my fair warning that I love you with all of my heart and that I’ll be expecting that offer.”
A goofy grin spread across his face before his eyes and features grew soft. She tilted up her face and received what she wanted, a toe-curling kiss that sealed the promise of their future.
Epilogue
The following July
“We should have waited and taken our honeymoon after the opening. The ribbon cutting is in fifteen minutes.”
“We’ll be fine if I drive right to the track.” Jared wasn’t about to remind Becca that she was the one who’d set their wedding date and had chosen their Alaskan honeymoon cruise. As an old married man of ten days, he knew better than that.
“At least the weather is cooperating today.” She glanced out the side window at the clear blue sky. “If it hadn’t been thunderstorming in Chicago, we would have been home yesterday. I should have factored in the possibility of weather delays and not booked the extra day in Vancouver after the cruise.”
Jared turned on to the newly constructed road to the Sinclair-Miller Motocross Racing School and Track, named for his mentor and Bert Miller. He smiled to himself. You’d think it was her baby, not his—and in a way it was. Without Becca, he never would have realized his dream, any of his dreams, including the ones he hadn’t known he had. He reached over and rested his hand on her leg.
“I have it on good authority that they won’t start until we get there. I texted Connor from the Albany airport. He said Emily and Drew will have Ari and Brendon at the track so we don’t have to stop for them, and Josh is picking up Hope from Grandma’s and bringing her along with Gram and Harry.”
“You had all that information and you let me fret on like that?”
“Yeah, I was enjoying your enthusiasm for the school. It’s kind of cute.”
“Humph.” She crossed her arms.
“And for the record, as much as the racing school means to me, I wouldn’t have given up a minute of our trip to be here sooner.”
“Me, either,” Becca said.
“Grab my cell and let Connor know we’re here.”
Jared parked the truck in reserved parking and waited while Becca ran a comb through her hair and checked her makeup she’d freshened at the airport.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, leaning over and giving her a quick peck. He’d never tire of having her beside him in every way. “Now, we’d better get in.” He opened the truck door for her, grabbed her hand and headed for the admissions gate, not realizing his longer stride was making her trot to keep up with him.
“Stop,” she said when they breezed through the gate with a wave to people selling tickets. “Let me catch my breath before we go out to the track for the ribbon cutting.”
He rolled on the balls of his feet while she took a couple of breaths.
“Who’s the one who’s excited now?” she asked.
He stilled his restless movement and made a point to shorten his stride as much as he could for the walk to the announcement stand adjacent to the course.
“And here’s the man of the hour.” Connor spoke into the public announcement system as Jared climbed the steps to the stand.
Jared accepted the microphone from his brother and, with eyes only for Becca waiting by the blue ribbon strung across the start of the course, he welcomed the crowd. As the cheers wound down, he wrapped up with, “Here’s Pastor Connor with a benediction before we cut the ribbon and officially open the Sinclair-Miller Motocross Racing School and Track.”
He tossed the microphone to Connor and raced down the steps to join Becca and Ari and Hope for the benediction. Behind him, Josh supervised Brendon and his friend Ian, who sat on matching school motocross bikes, engines idling, ready for their inaugural circle of the track.
“Dear Lord,” Connor began. “Thank You for giving us such a beautiful day for opening the Sinclair-Miller Motocross Racing School and Track. Bless the track and our youth program services that they will glorify You and lead those who need You to Your way. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
His brother signaled Jared, and he and Hope picked up one handle of a pair of comically over-sized scissors while Becca and Ari picked up the other. They snipped the ribbon, and Brendon and Ian took off across the line slowly and carefully as he’d taught them. Jared slipped his arm around Becca’s waist and she around his, their other
arms circling the girls’ shoulders. Together, they watched the boys drive the modified, no-jump course.
Later, he and some of his friends from the circuit would demonstrate some of their racing moves, followed by a race with riders from throughout the region. But for now, it was Jared and Becca and the family he’d never imagined he’d be blessed with. Truly a day of answered prayers.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from BACHELOR TO THE RESCUE by Lorraine Beatty.
Dear Reader,
I’m very excited to be returning to Paradox Lake to introduce you to the three Donnelly brothers, starting with Jared, the oldest. Growing up in a small town with a notorious alcoholic father was hard. Not surprisingly, the brothers all left town after high school. But now they’re back.
I had fun writing about my reformed “bad boy” Jared, a retired international motocross champion, and the havoc his return to Paradox Lake wreaks on high school history teacher, Becca Norton’s life. In my research about motocross, I discovered the Team Faith Ministry (TeamFaith.com). I used their mission—to lead extreme sports athletes to Christ and disciple them so that they will, in turn, lead others involved in or interested in the sport to Christ—as part of Jared’s motivation for building his racing school.
I hope you enjoy the fireworks that ensue as Jared wrestles with pursuing his mission and Becca with wanting to do what’s best for her family and her community.
Thanks so much for choosing Winning the Teacher’s Heart. Please feel free to email me at [email protected] or snail mail me at PO Box 113, Selkirk, NY 12158. You can also visit me at Facebook.com/JeanCGordon.author or JeanCGordon.com or Tweet me at @JeanCGordon.
Blessings,
Jean C. Gordon
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.
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Chapter One
“Mommy, can we go home now? I’m tired of coloring.”
Lainie Hollings fought back the nausea churning in her stomach and gently stroked her youngest daughter’s hair. “Not yet, Chrissy. Why don’t you use the green crayon for a while?”
A weary sigh accompanied the nodding of the little head. Lainie watched her girls, six-year-old Natalie and four-year-old Christiana, as they scribbled on the pages the officer at the Dover Mississippi Police Station had given them to keep them entertained. They couldn’t go home because they had no home to go to. Her job as assistant to Mrs. Forsythe, a wealthy businesswoman in Memphis, Tennessee, had ended when her employer had moved away for health reasons. Thankfully, Lainie had quickly landed the position as head librarian for the Dover Public Library.
Today was their moving day. This morning, she had been filled with excitement and bursting with hope. This move marked the culmination of a dream she and her husband had once shared. They’d planned to leave Baton Rouge and its big city life behind and move to a small town where they could grow their family in a friendly, nurturing environment. They’d been saving for a house, but she had been forced to use the money for Craig’s funeral instead. Alone and pregnant with their second child, she’d moved to Jackson, Tennessee, to live with her mother and gone back to school at night to get her degree.
The past five years had been difficult, moving from place to place, job to job. The librarian position was her chance to find a permanent home.
So, they’d come to Dover a few days early to find a place to live and check into child care. It was supposed to be a fun trip discovering their new home. Instead, they were sitting in a police station, the victims of a crime. As they had been leaving a local restaurant, a man had shoved Lainie against her car, waved a gun in her face, then yanked her purse from her arm and fled. Thankfully, she’d already put the girls in the car. But all she had left were the car keys she held in her hand, and eight dollars and thirty-four cents—change from lunch, which she’d shoved into the pocket of her cotton slacks.
The moment replayed in her mind like a scene from a horror film, tightening the vise of fear around her chest. She lowered her head into her hands, fighting to keep the rising panic at bay. How was she going to take care of her girls? Where would they stay? She’d set aside money for a motel, but now, without a credit card or cash, that was impossible. Tears welled in her eyes and she brushed them away quickly, not wanting the children to see her upset. But she was barely holding it together.
“Look, Mommy, I colored it purple.” Chrissy’s blue eyes sparkled from behind her glasses.
“Good job, sweetie.”
Looking at her precious girls, her throat constricted again. What if the thief had taken the car with the girls inside? What if he’d killed her? Lainie forced the terrifying thoughts aside. She couldn’t give in to the fear. They were all fine, but destitute. She had no phone, no ID and no money. The only person she knew in town, Mr. Bill Ogden, mayor and president of the library board who’d hired her, was out of town for the weekend. They were on their own.
Unless Shaw McKinney showed up.
The knot in her chest grew. She clasped her hands together, squeezing tightly. While paying her bill at the restaurant, she’d noticed several business cards on display. One had a familiar name printed on it. Goudchaux McKinney Construction. Shaw McKinney, contractor. She’d picked up the card, the name unearthing anger and resentment she’d thought long buried. If it weren’t for him, Craig would still be alive and her daughters would have a father. She’d shoved the card into her pocket along with the change. Shaw was the last person on earth she wanted to ask for help, but he was her only option. She’d given the card to the officer and asked him to call.
“Mommy, I have to go.” Natalie wiggled in her chair.
Chrissy looked up, pushing her tiny glasses up on her little nose. “Me, too.”
Lainie stood and looked around for her purse, wincing when she remembered it was gone. “Come on, girls.” Lainie took their hands and walked down the hall to the restrooms. She tried to quell the nervousness swirling in her stomach as she helped Chrissy wash her hands. Maybe when she returned to the lobby, Shaw would be here. She didn’t want to think about what they would do if he didn’t come. Worse yet, what if he did? Turning for help to the man responsible for her husband’s death was repugnant.
Settling into the molded plastic chair again, she glanced toward the lobby entrance as yet another stranger walked in. She’d repeated this motion so often she now recognized the distinct squeak and swoosh of the door when it opened and closed. This time, it ushered in a gray-haired man carrying a large envelope.
“Mommy, can you draw me a rainbow?”
Lainie took one of the crayons and drew arched lines across the paper. “What’s Shaw doing here in Dover, Mississippi, anyway?”
“What, Mommy?”
“Nothing, sweetie. I’m just talking to myself.” The last time she’d seen Shaw was in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Craig had hired on with Beaumont Construction, determined to learn carpentry so he could eventually start his own contracting firm. Shaw had been his instructor, the one assigned to show him the ropes and keep him safe as he navigated the dangers of the job. But he hadn’t, and Craig had died.
Lainie pressed her lips together. They’d been sitting in the police station for two hours, filling out forms, answering questions. She had to face the possibility that Shaw might not come. He prob
ably didn’t remember her. She’d have to find another way to survive until she started her job next week. Maybe there was a homeless shelter in town. The idea made her sick. She’d worked hard the past five years to take care of her girls, and she’d done a decent job so far. But this wasn’t the time to let pride stand in her way. Perhaps there was a church in town that could help. Their last resort would be to spend a few nights in the car until the mayor returned. Hopefully, he’d let her start work early or give her an advance to tide her over.
Closing her eyes, she clasped her hands in front of her mouth. Lord, help me. I have no one. Nowhere to turn, but You. You’ve seen me through these past five years. Please don’t abandon me now.
* * *
Shaw McKinney ended the call and jammed his cell phone into his back pocket, grinding his teeth in exasperation. The drywall crew that was supposed to start today wasn’t coming. Any more setbacks and this project might never be completed. He was already three weeks behind due to a series of unexpected delays. Thankfully, he’d obtained an extension, but the next deadline was set in concrete. Slowly, he walked through the old mansion. The 1885 house was one of the oldest in Dover and had been empty for the past dozen years. Thanks to an anonymous benefactor, the building, along with money for restoration, books and staff, had been donated to the town to replace the library, which had burned down five years ago.
Shaw had won the contract. It had meant not only a financial boon to his new construction business, but a huge boost to his reputation. After leaving LC Construction a year ago and starting his own company, McKinney Construction, he’d made the classic newbie mistake of overscheduling his projects. With the library job behind, he’d had to pull back on his other jobs because if this one wasn’t done on time, he’d have to pay a hefty fine to the benefactor’s foundation, one that could mean the end of his fledgling business. Shaw had factored in time for unexpected problems, but the old house had coughed up more than he’d bargained for.
Love Inspired May 2015 #2 Page 39