by Nicole Deese
She smiled at him through her tears. “I love you, Levi.”
A throat cleared behind them.
Ford stood only a few paces away, water rivulets streaming from the brim of his leather hat.
“Sorry to interrupt.” His natural grin widened. “But I just spoke to Marshal Harris.”
“Yeah?” Levi reached for her hand and interlaced their fingers. “Are they going to open up the road sooner because of the rain?”
“Looks that way.” Ford tipped his head and opened his palm heavenward. “And if it keeps coming down like this, the crews will be able to get a much better handle on the fires, but still, he’d appreciate us clearing out for a couple hours until it’s official.”
Rayne studied Ford openly, her heart squeezing with nostalgia. She didn’t know this man, not in the way she hoped to, yet there was no discounting his appeal. There was no discounting the magnetism of his humble spirit.
Levi started in the direction of his truck and Rayne tugged his hand. “Wait.” She turned back to Ford. “Before we go . . . will you show me the tree?”
Ford smiled and gestured for them to follow. Levi held her hand as they trudged through the wet orchard. The invigorating smell of freshly soaked earth mingled with the sweet scent of ripening fruit. The orchard spanned farther than she’d realized. Hard droplets pinged against the shiny red and green apples, creating a nature chorus she hadn’t heard in what felt like a lifetime.
Ford stopped just shy of the center of the orchard, a perfect grid of apple trees all around them. The soles of her sandals sank into the irrigated grass.
“This one here.” Ford pointed to a tree with branches splayed wide, the leaves a vibrant, healthy green. Glistening apples peeked out at every angle. And even through sheets of pouring rain, the deep-purple words scrawled on a garden stone in childish handwriting stole her attention.
RAYNE’S TREE
Hand hovering over her mouth, she knelt, the knees of her jeans sinking into squishy soil.
Ford had kept it. After all these years. He’d kept his promise. He’d taken care of her tree.
The same way he’d taken care of her family.
She brushed her fingertips over the roughly painted letters and then reached out to touch the bumpy tree trunk in front of her, remembering the tiny start she’d planted nearly two decades ago.
Ford knelt beside her under the protective branches. “Your tree’s produced a great harvest every year.”
Overwhelmed, she released a sob-filled laugh. “Our tree.”
He touched her damp shoulder. “God always takes care of his creation, Rayne. The same way He’s taken care of us, and our valley.” He tilted his eyes to the clearing skyline.
Tears dripped from her wet lashes as the steady tenor of Ford’s voice soothed a piece of her newly restored soul. She didn’t have a clue what the coming days and weeks and months ahead would bring, but maybe she didn’t need to. If God could send rain to a parched land, if He could reunite a family after two decades, then maybe He had a plan for her future too.
Ford helped her to her feet. Only, when he released her hand, she wasn’t ready to let go.
In just two short steps, she bridged a gap of eighteen years and hugged the man who’d taught her more about life and love and promises kept than anyone she’d ever known.
“Thank you, Ford.”
As the sky continued to spill tears of sweet renewal, Levi’s loving gaze and Ford’s solid embrace flooded her heart with the hope of new beginnings.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
God: Thank you for your unfailing promises and unending love.
My husband, Tim: Thank you for your unwavering commitment to loving Christ first, and me second. You are—and will always be—my greatest blessing this side of heaven. I love you, babe.
My boys, Preston and Lincoln: Your mommy could not be prouder of the men you are becoming. You make my heart smile on a daily basis. I love you deeply.
My family: Thank you for supporting the girl behind the pen so that her dreams could take flight.
Tammy Gray: I honestly cannot imagine (nor do I want to imagine) writing a book without you as my critique partner. I cherish our morning phone calls and the hundreds of hours we’ve spent chatting about fictional people and problems. Thank you for loving me enough to be a truth-teller—even when I really don’t want to hear “You can do better, Nicole.” Thank you. You’ve not only challenged me to be a better writer but a better friend. I love you dearly.
Amy Matayo: It would be an impossible task to summarize what your friendship has meant to me over these last three years. I’m so grateful for every sappy tear we’ve shed and every gut-laugh we’ve tried—and failed—to conceal. You’re my person, my writer wife, my like-soul. Thank you for being a friend like no other. I love you. Also, please move to Idaho.
Conni Cossette: For being my favorite After Midnight Texting Buddy. Knowing you’re awake writing or editing or researching has inspired and comforted me in more ways than I could name. Thank you for replying to all two billion of my “Would you mind reading this scene over?” texts, and for being generous and gracious enough to say, “Sure!” Every. Single. Time. I’m quite positive I owe you a pallet of huckleberry wine the next time I see you.
Kristin Avila: I don’t know a single soul who can dissect a story the way you can. You have a gift, my friend, and I’ve been blessed to be the recipient of your insight many times over. Thank you for being a part of my life and my writing. I love and miss you.
Kacy Gourley: Thank you for twenty years of faithful friendship and for calling me at the 75 percent mark of every book I write to remind me that I’m not a quitter. I love you, sweet friend.
Joanie Schultz: You are the best neighbor a girl could ask for . . . especially since you geek-out over my favorite books. Ha-ha! Our long walks and fiction talks are the highlight of every sunny day. (Oh, and you totally get credit for Delia quitting the lodge. Good call on that!)
My agent, Jessica Kirkland: Thank you for being my fairy godmother and for granting so many wishes of my heart. I’m in awe of your tenacity and strength, and I’m so privileged to call you both my agent and my friend. Love you, Jess.
My editor, Jennifer Lawler: I so appreciated your expertise and editorial brilliance on TPOR. Your comment bubbles and carefully crafted feedback deepened the characters in Shelby Falls and elevated the story as a whole. I hope our paths cross again in the very near future. Thank you.
Amy Hosford, Associate Publisher, Waterfall Press: Thank you for believing in me as a storyteller and for encouraging me to stretch my wings wider with TPOR.
Erin Calligan Mooney, Acquisitions Editor, Waterfall Press: Thank you for being such a delight to work with and for keeping me on schedule. Looking forward to working with you more in the future!
To the team at Waterfall Press: Thank you for caring as much about your authors as the work they produce. I’m beyond grateful for you all.
My early readers: Christa Allan, Lara Arkin, Kristin Avila, Conni Cossette, Nicki Davis, Renee Deese, Kacy Gourley, Tammy Gray, Kim Keller, Sarah Monzon, Britni Nash, Sarah Price, Joanie Schultz, Amy Matayo, Amy Simpson. Thank you all for being the best cheerleaders ever!
Real Life Home Group Gals: Debbi McEnespy, Santha Yinger, Carmen Hendewerk, Jeannie Jesseph, Bryauna Hoertz, Cheri Backman, Sandi Willis, and Lindsey McKahan. I love living in community with you all.
My readers: Thank you for allowing the dream in my heart to find a place in yours.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2014 Renee Deese
Nicole Deese is a full-time lover of humorous, heartfelt, and hope-filled fiction and is the author of the Letting Go series and the Love in Lenox novels, A Cliché Christmas and A Season to Love. When she’s not writing sweet romances, she can usually be found reading near a window while sipping a LaCroix. She lives in small-town Idaho with her handsome hubby and two sons.
Deese, The Promise of Rayne