Love Inspired May 2015 #2

by Missy Tippens

  Chris looked up, surprise registering in his blue eyes. “Yeah, man-to-man.”

  Rachel looked curiously between them. “Do you need some privacy for this?”

  “No, that’s okay,” Matt said. “I can say this stuff in front of you, gorgeous.”

  Chris made a face and Matt chuckled.

  “Okay, Chris, I’m going to say it straight. I love your mom a lot, but I see that I need to make a deal with you.”

  “I don’t need toys or anything,” the boy retorted reproachfully.

  “That wouldn’t be a deal man-to-man,” Matt said frankly. “This is a grown-up deal.”

  “Okay...” Chris eyed him speculatively.

  “I’m going to make you a promise, Chris. I promise that I’ll never hurt your mom. I’ll never make her cry, and I’ll do everything I can to make her as happy as I possibly can. And I mean that. That’s a solemn promise.”

  Rachel’s dark gaze met his, her soft lips turning up into a misty smile.

  Chris’s lip trembled. “But what about me?”

  “I’ll always need you, sweetheart,” Rachel said, pulling the boy against her. “Always.”

  “Here’s the thing, kiddo,” Matt said quietly. “You and your mom are a family because when she adopted you, she chose you to be her son. It doesn’t matter how old you get, you’ll always be her son. And now your mom and I are getting married because we chose each other. Choosing is what makes a family, Chris. I’m not just choosing your mom. I’m choosing you, too.”

  Chris sat in silence for a long moment, and then he turned and looked up at Matt quizzically. “You’re choosing me?”

  “Absolutely. I’m choosing you to be my kid. And your mom to be my wife.” His gaze flickered toward his beautiful bride. “And when I marry your mom, I’m promising both of you that I’ll be here for you for the rest of our lives. We’ll be a forever family. I’m going to take care of you both, provide for you, look out for you, and even if I can’t come home some nights because I have to be in the fire station, you can call me and I’ll always pick up, no matter the time. That’s a promise, kiddo. And you can bank on it. It’s a promise I’m making inside a church.”

  Chris looked back at the church doors, clearly impressed with the weight of those words. Finally he nodded. “Okay.”

  “Okay.” Matt rose to his feet. “So, can we go in now and make this official?”

  Chris nodded, and Rachel rose to her feet. The wind pushed against her gown, nudging and billowing the rustling ivory material. As she brushed her veil back, her dark waves shining in the autumn sunlight, Matt was struck anew with a wave of overpowering love for this woman. He watched in protective admiration as Rachel and Chris went up the wooden stairs toward the door, her veil fluttering out behind her, and the boy holding tight to her hand. He’d never forget this moment or this image in his mind. This would be the moment he told their grandchildren about—the moment when his life truly began.

  “Mr. Bailey?” Chris turned back.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I call you Dad?”

  A lump rose in Matt’s throat and Rachel looked back at him, tears shining in her eyes. He nodded. “I’d really like that, Chris.”

  Matt jogged up the stairs to catch up with them and pulled open the church door. Rachel leaned into his chest and looked up at him adoringly. He slid an arm around her waist, holding himself back from pulling her into his arms and kissing her quite thoroughly. That would have to wait until the ceremony.

  “There you are!” Aunt Louise exclaimed, and just as quickly, she tugged Rachel out of his arms and toward a side room. “Quick, quick!” she ordered. “Matt, you are needed at the front of the church, and, Rachel, your makeup needs just one more touch-up...”

  Today, he was making a promise in that little country church, and it was one he would guard for the rest of his life. Today, he would pledge to be hers and start a life as a husband, a father and part of their forever family. “Come on, Chris,” he said with a grin. “We’d better get up there.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE RANCHER TAKES A BRIDE by Brenda Minton.

  Dear Reader,

  When researching this book, I walked down to our local fire hall, smiled sweetly at the receptionist and asked to speak to someone—anyone, really—about how a fire hall runs. The very kind deputy fire chief cleared his throat from where he stood watching us at the doorway and said, “Can I help you out with something?”

  I thought to myself, I’ve got to use that in my book. That was fantastic.

  The book was born.

  Not only did the deputy chief answer my questions and give me a tour, but he impressed me with his professionalism and won my respect. The firefighters who put their lives on the line to keep our communities safe deserve nothing less.

  I hope you’ve enjoyed this story, and I hope that you’ll come by to see me on my Patricia Johns Romance Facebook page and my blog (PatriciaJohnsRomance.com). I love to connect with readers. If you message me, I’ll be sure to answer. That’s a promise...a novelist’s promise, which is significantly less romantic than a firefighter’s promise, but it’s what I’ve got.

  Each and every one of you is a living, breathing story, and with God that story always has a happy ending! In the meantime, let’s stick together, ladies. The plot might thicken, but the ending is a guarantee. Let’s build each other up and show the next generation of girls that together is the best way to be.

  Patricia Johns

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.

  You believe hearts can heal. Love Inspired stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.

  Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired every month!

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

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  Chapter One

  Spring in Martin’s Crossing, Texas, meant one thing to Oregon Jeffries. It meant another year of working up the courage to do the right thing. As she pushed petunias into the soil of the planter outside her shop, Oregon’s All Things, she thought about taking that step to make things right.

  “Mom, you’re going to kill it pushing it in like that.” Her daughter, Lilly, appeared next to her, peering in at the plant.

  She had a point. The petunia looked a little droopy from the handling it had received. One stem even appeared to be broken. Oregon pushed hair back from her face and patted the soil more gently.

  “You’re right. I should be more careful.”

  “Do you want me to finish them later?” Lilly, at twelve, was willing to do almost anything to help. Except maybe laundry.

  “No, I’ll do them. Don’t you have a job to get to?”

  Lilly glanced across the street, her blue eyes focusing on Duke’s No Bar and Grill. It was a long, low building with wood siding and a covered front deck running the length of the restaurant.

  “Yeah, Duke said I could sweep up and water flowers. But I know you don’t like me working for him.”

  “I didn’t say...” Well, maybe she had said something about wishing her daughter would find other jobs. But Lilly wanted a horse, and they’d made a deal that she had to work and earn the money to pay for the horse and the upkeep. As a single mom, Oregon couldn’t handle the expense of a horse. Plus, she thought her daughter would appreciate it more if she helped pay for the animal.

  The townspeople in Martin’s Crossing had pitched in and given Lilly odd jobs. Each time she got paid, Lilly put
most of the money in the jar she kept hidden in her room. And she put a portion in the offering at church.

  Duke Martin, owner of Duke’s No Bar and Grill, had been giving Lilly various jobs since he learned of her quest to buy a horse. He’d even offered to help her pick a good, well-broke horse when she had all the money saved.

  “You can go to Duke’s. Just don’t be a nuisance,” she warned.

  Lilly kissed her cheek, and Oregon nearly cried. Her daughter no longer had to stand on tiptoes; instead, Lilly leaned down a bit because she’d outgrown Oregon over the winter.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Oregon nodded and went back to her flowers.

  As she reached for another petunia, tires screeched, followed by shouting and then a sickening thud. Oregon turned, screaming as she saw her daughter fall to the asphalt. Everything slowed. Except her heart, which beat rapidly in her chest as she stood frozen on the sidewalk.

  The driver of the car jumped out. Duke ran down the steps of the restaurant. Oregon couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. She heard Duke yell at her, then everything returned to normal speed.

  There were people everywhere. Where did they all come from? Oregon felt a hand on her arm, a voice comforting her. “She’s going to be okay. You need to go to her.”

  It was Joe, the vagrant who had appeared in town last winter. He held her arm and walked with her to Lilly’s crumpled body. Duke knelt next to her daughter. His large body hovered, his fingers touching Lilly’s neck, then her wrist.

  “Don’t move,” he whispered when she tried to sit up. And then he saw Oregon. “Your mom is here. Stay still, sweetheart. Stay still.”

  Oregon knelt next to her baby girl, brushing dark hair back from her pale face, noticing the bruises on her temple and cheek. Lilly opened her eyes and whispered that it hurt. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Duke stopped Oregon from scooping her up and holding her close.

  “You can’t do that, Oregon.” He yelled for someone to bring a blanket.

  Oregon saw that her daughter was trembling and pale.

  “Oregon, hold it together.” Duke’s voice whispered in her ear. “Talk to her.”

  She nodded and leaned in, unsure of what to say. Duke’s hand was on her back. Oregon wanted to sob. But she didn’t. Instead, she took Lilly’s hand and held it. “The ambulance is on the way, honey. We’ll get you help. You’ll be okay.”

  A man shouted that he hadn’t seen her. That she’d come out of nowhere. Duke stood up and headed for the driver of the car. Six feet eight inches of Duke Martin had the man backing away, holding his hands up.

  Oregon heard him tell the driver to sit and save his explanations. Right now they were going to take care of the child he’d hit. Her child. Oregon’s hand shook as she smoothed her daughter’s hair back from her face once more.

  If Duke only knew, Oregon thought. She kissed her daughter’s cheek. “It’s going to be okay. I hear the ambulance.”

  “Mommy, it hurts.”

  “Can you tell me where it hurts, Lilly?” Duke once again took charge. He’d been an army medic in Afghanistan.

  “Everywhere,” Lilly answered. “My leg. And my head. My stomach.”

  “Do you remember where you were going?” he asked.

  “To school,” she responded.

  Though she had tried to fight it, the tears overtook Oregon. She felt strong hands on her shoulders. Joe pulled her to her feet and led her away. The ambulance pulled up, and Duke spoke with quiet authority as they assessed her daughter.

  “I need to be with her.” Oregon tried to pull away from Joe.

  “No, you need to stand here and let them do their job,” he insisted, his voice soft but firm. “Stay here with me and when they’re ready to leave, you can give her a kiss and tell her you’ll meet her at the hospital.”

  “But I should go with her...”

  “You can’t.” Joe led her toward the stretcher holding her daughter. Her baby. She tried to pull away from Joe, but he held tight. “Oregon, take a deep breath and tell our girl she’ll be okay.”

  Our girl. The words registered faintly. Everyone in town considered Lilly their girl. People here loved them, cared about them. It was one of the reasons she’d stayed in Martin’s Crossing. Because for the first time in her life, she felt as if she truly belonged. Though she had wanted it more for her daughter than herself, that sense of belonging somewhere.

  Joe led her back to Lilly and held her hand as she kissed her daughter on the forehead, said a quick prayer and told her they would meet her at the hospital.

  “Mommy, I’ll be okay.” Lilly’s voice shook as she said the words.

  “Of course you’ll be okay,” Oregon managed in a voice that remained steady. Because she was the mom. She would make sure her daughter was okay. God couldn’t take her baby. They needed each other too much.

  As she stepped back, Joe touched Lilly’s brow. He smiled at her and whispered that she’d be home soon, and they’d talk more about that horse. Oregon wanted to tell him not to make promises. Oregon knew how easily they were broken.

  Duke stood next to the ambulance as Lilly was loaded on. He spoke to the paramedics. Then he nodded and said something to Lilly. And Oregon stood there, letting him take charge because she couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.

  Her body began to shake as the ambulance pulled away. “I have to go.” Oregon headed for her shop and apartment. She had to find her purse, her keys...

  “Oregon, wait.”

  She turned to see Duke striding across the street toward her. Joe came with him. She looked from Joe with his weathered face, gray hair and easy smile to Duke, a giant of a man with sandy-brown hair starting to grow out from the buzz cut he’d had, unshaved face and piercing blue eyes.

  “What?” Her voice trembled, and for a scary moment everything faded. She took a deep breath and her vision cleared.

  Duke’s features softened as he looked at her.

  “I’m driving.” He had his truck keys out. “Lock up your shop and let’s go.”

  “I can drive. You really don’t have to.”

  He let out a long sigh. “Oregon, don’t argue with me. You’re in no condition to drive. I’m taking you.”

  She nodded and hurried inside, finding her purse and her keys, leaving the petunias on the stoop to be planted later. As she walked out the front door, locking it behind her, Joe was telling Duke he’d like to ride along. Duke looked to Oregon, and she nodded.

  Joe was little more than a stranger, a homeless man who had worked for Duke and moved into a small house down the street. But he was a good man, and Lilly adored him.

  Today she needed these two men. And she needed for Lilly to be okay. She needed to know that God heard her prayers.

  She needed the strength of Duke’s arms as he walked her to his waiting truck. Those big arms made her rethink everything. It was time to tell the truth. Her heart ached, worrying about her daughter, about their future and Duke’s reaction to the news she would tell him.

  * * *

  Duke risked a cautious look at Oregon to make sure she was holding it together. She’d been unusually quiet on the ride to Austin. Joe, who sat next to her, was also quiet. He saw that Oregon’s eyes were closed, and her lips were moving as she prayed.

  He didn’t know much about her, but he did know she attended Martin’s Crossing Community Church. He’d seen her there the few times he’d darkened the door. Now he knew she was a praying woman. He also knew that she had a mom who liked to stir up trouble and who wasn’t too fond of Oregon’s religion.

  He’d like to reclaim his own faith, but he and God were having some issues about prayers he’d said for kids in Afghanistan. He shook his head, not wanting to focus on that, not right now with Lilly on her way to the hospital.

  He reached for
Oregon’s hand and squeezed it. “She’s going to be okay.”

  “I know. I know.” Oregon wiped away the tears that streamed down her cheeks. “She was talking. That’s a good sign. Isn’t it?”

  “Yes, always a good sign.”

  Anger suddenly flashed in her eyes. Funny, he’d thought they were hazel; now he realized they were the warmest shade of gray possible. “Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear, Duke. You were a medic. I want your opinion.”

  “A medic, not a doctor. And kids aren’t exactly my area of expertise.”

  “Duke, please.”

  He slowed for a stoplight. “Only a mile to the hospital.”

  “What are you trying to hide?”

  “I’m not hiding anything. I’m just trying to decide the best answer because I don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

  “Tell me she’s going to be okay,” she sobbed.

  Yeah, that’s exactly what he was avoiding. “I think she had broken bones and possibly some internal injuries. I’m going by my own assessment and the paramedics’ conversation as they loaded her in the ambulance.”

  Oregon nodded, the conversation ending in nervous silence. Joe patted Oregon’s leg and said that he knew one thing with certainty; that God would take care of Lilly. Duke didn’t say that he’d seen a lot of prayers go unanswered during his time in Afghanistan.

  “Here we are.” He pulled his truck into the hospital parking lot and found a space close to the emergency room. He exited and then waited for Oregon.

  Something happened in that moment as he watched and waited for her to get out. It was like the past crashing into the future, and he didn’t know what it meant. It was a flashback of laughing with a dark-haired girl who had just won her first cash prize on a barrel horse she’d trained herself. With a shake of his head he cleared the memory.

  Sitting in his truck, Oregon visibly pulled herself together before she stepped out. The wind whipped her hair and wrapped her prairie skirt around her legs. Joe waited for them on the other side. The three of them walked toward the emergency room entrance. As they got closer, Oregon’s steps slowed, faltering. Duke took her hand and looked down at her. Her eyes met his and it seemed familiar.