As a result, Tabitha was more relaxed, more herself. Which had made the trip to Maryland easier than Quinn had anticipated. Good thing, since she really was a nervous wreck.
“She may hate me because I’m not going to be her mother anymore.” Tabitha cleared her throat, brushed a lock of hair off her cheek. “Which is fine. I’m totally cool with that.”
“No,” Quinn said. “You’re not. It would hurt a lot if that happened. Why not just admit it?”
“Why not just go back to discussing you and your boyfriend? I find that to be a lot more fun.”
“Of course you do,” Quinn murmured.
“Because it’s way more exciting than talking about my new job at Betty Sue’s Diner. I seriously can’t believe I’m going to be living in my sister’s apartment and working as a waitress.”
“It’s better than being dead,” August pointed out.
“You’re right about that. But, even better than that would be a boyfriend who sent me flowers every day. That’s what Malone has done, right?”
She knew he had, so Quinn ignored the question.
“Nice flowers, too. Not the cheap kind most men like to give,” Tabitha continued, the anxiety still in her eyes.
“They’d better be nice,” August added. “If they weren’t, he and I would have to have a talk.”
“You’re not going to talk to him about anything, August.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“Sorry, sis. You’ve got no control over what I say or don’t.” He pulled into the driveway of a pretty little bungalow. Flower baskets hung from the porch eaves and a tire swing swayed gently from the branch of a giant oak tree. Three cars were parked in the driveway, and August pulled up behind a dark sedan.
He parked the Jeep and jumped out, stretching for a moment before leaning back into the vehicle. “Are you two going to sit there all day?” he asked, when neither Quinn nor Tabitha moved.
“You first,” Tabitha said nervously, gesturing for Quinn to get out.
Quinn figured she needed to set a good example, so she opened her door, smoothing her skirt again as she stepped into watery sunlight.
The front door opened, and a pretty young woman walked out, a baby in her arms and a cute little girl beside her.
“Hello!” she called. “You must be Jubilee’s other family. I’m Scout Anderson. This little girl,” she said, setting her hand on the child’s head, “is our daughter Lucy, and the baby is Ainslie.”
“Nice to meet you,” August said, striding forward with his hand outstretched.
Quinn followed, telling the butterflies in her stomach to settle down. No need to get so excited. Especially when she hadn’t even seen Malone yet.
It was possible he hadn’t arrived, possible that he wouldn’t be able to come. He had a busy schedule, an active life. He’d told her he had a mission scheduled for the following week.
No way could he just drop everything—
The door opened again and Malone stepped out. Chance followed, with a very tall, very muscular redhead right behind him.
Boone Anderson.
It had to be. The eyes were just like Jubilee’s.
Tabitha must have noticed. She gasped, took a step back.
“You look just like her,” she said, and the man smiled.
“Hopefully the poor kid doesn’t look just like me. Boone Anderson. Kend— Jubilee’s father.” He offered his hand the same way his wife had, and Quinn took it by rote. Her eyes were on Malone, though—his dark gaze, the sharp angle of his jaw, the familiar tilt of his mouth when he smiled.
“Malone,” she said, the name just kind of slipping out.
He didn’t wait for an invitation, just crossed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, and her cheeks heated at the compliment, the butterflies she’d been trying to control taking flight.
“So do you.”
“I don’t think that I’ve ever been told that before.” He chuckled, his arm winding through hers as he walked her to the edge of the porch, letting Chance, Boone, Scout and Tabitha talk quietly among themselves.
“What I meant was—”
“You don’t need to explain, Quinn,” he said, all the humor falling away. “You’re nervous. I can understand that.”
“Aren’t you?”
He studied her for a moment, his beautiful dark gaze skimming over her face, dropping to the soft white sweater she’d bought to go with the skirt, settling on the hair she’d curled to within an inch of its life.
That had been hours ago.
It was probably limp and ratty now.
But when Malone looked at her? It felt perfect.
Finally, he touched her cheek, resting his palm against her skin. “I’m not nervous for anyone but you. You’ve been through a lot, you’ve lost a lot. I don’t want to rush you. I don’t want to make you let go of something you’re not ready to release.”
He lifted her right hand, touching the gold band she still wore. “I guess what I’m saying is, we can take our time. All those flowers I sent you—”
“Were beautiful.”
“Boone said they might be overkill.”
“What does Boone know?” she asked, and he laughed.
“That’s what his wife said, but then I started thinking that you might feel overwhelmed, and I thought—”
“You are nervous.”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you without meaning to, bring up old feelings that you’re not ready to face,” he admitted, and for the first time since she’d met him, he looked vulnerable and a little unsure.
“I loved Cory with my whole heart. I didn’t think there’d ever be room for someone else. Then I met you, and I realized...” She shook her head, the words so hard to come by, the feelings so difficult to express. “You fit here, Malone.” She touched her chest. “In a way I never expected.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “Because you’re the person I didn’t know I was missing, the piece to the puzzle I didn’t know I was looking for. You fit. Not just in my heart. In my life. I don’t want to mess it up.”
“I don’t think you could, Malone,” she said honestly. “We just kind of...work together. And it’s nice. Better than nice.”
“That’s good to know, because I ordered flowers to be delivered for the entire two weeks I’ll be gone on my next mission. I was trying to figure out a way to cancel them. I guess now, I won’t have to.” He grinned, and she felt her heart melt just a little more for him.
“Two weeks is a long time. I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too, but I’ll be back. Probably with more flowers in hand. I’m not all that creative when it comes to this kind of stuff.”
That made her laugh.
She was still laughing when he leaned in for a kiss. Sweet and light and undemanding.
She reached up, her cast bumping his shoulder as she pulled him closer.
“Hey, lovebirds!” August called from beneath the old oak. Somehow he had ended up with the little girl named Lucy. She climbed onto the swing, and was shouting for him to push her.
“Jubilee is here.” He gestured to a small SUV that was puttering up the road. It pulled into the driveway, idled there for a moment.
Suddenly, the sweet moment was gone, the peaceful afternoon was filled with tension. Lucy scrambled off the swing and ran to her mother, clutching her hand as the driver’s door opened and Jubilee’s caseworker stepped out.
She smiled, offered a quick wave and walked to the back of the car.
Boone stood in the watery sunlight, his hair burnished fire, his face filled with longing and hope and fear.
Jubilee’s father, but the little girl didn’t know it.
She got out of the car slowly, her scrawny legs appearing first—bruised and battered from whatever games she’d been playing outdoors. Then her head, her long hair the sa
me deep red as her father’s.
She hesitated there, not taking the hand the caseworker offered, just surveying the people waiting for her. Quinn tried to imagine it from her perspective. Seeing the woman holding the baby, tears glistening on her face. The tall man who looked as if he didn’t know if he should move forward or step back. The guy under the tree, pushing the empty swing.
The little girl who smiled shyly.
Tabitha.
Quinn knew the moment Jubilee spotted her.
Her face lit up, the hesitation fading.
“Mommy?” she said, exiting the car, waiting to be called forward.
Tabitha glanced at Boone and he nodded, stepping aside so she could move past. Run past. She nearly flew, rushing to Jubilee and lifting her into her arms.
“Ju-bee, I’ve missed you!” she cried.
No response, but Jubilee clung to her, whispered something in her ear.
“He’s...gone,” Tabitha said. “You don’t have to see him again. But, there’s somebody else I want you to meet. A few people, really.” Her voice cracked but she put Jubilee down, turned her so she was facing Boone. “Remember that story I told you a long time ago? The one about the princess who got taken from her father and had to live with a horrible ogre?”
Jubilee nodded, staring up at Boone with wide-eyed fascination. It must have been strange to see someone with her hair color, her skin tone, her eyes.
“Remember how her father, the king, was searching everywhere for years and years, and finally one day he found her and brought her home? Well, you’re kind of like that princess, Ju-bee, and this man? He’s like the king. He’s your real father, and he’s been looking for you for a long time. And that lady there?” She pointed to Scout. “She’s going to be—”
“I’m Scout,” she interrupted, her voice gentle, her expression sweet and understanding, the tears still slipping down her face. “Your father’s wife. You can call me Scout for now, if you want. Maybe in a few months you’ll want to call me something else and that will be okay, too.”
“A stepmother,” Jubilee gasped, that quick brain that Quinn had seen just a glimpse of making the connection.
“A good one,” Tabitha rushed to say. “A really good one. With two sweet little girls who are going to be your sisters.”
“But...what about you?” Jubilee clutched Tabitha’s hand, her lower lip trembling.
“She’s going to be with me, and she’ll call and come visit you all the time,” Quinn said, Malone’s hand warm on her shoulder. It felt good to do this with him, to be part of what he and his team had been working toward for years. It felt even better to know that Jubilee would be okay now. Jarrod was in jail. The police had found the blood-splattered clothes in a small chest in the attic where Tabitha had hidden them. He’d been arrested for murder, assault, money laundering.
“You’ll take care of her?” Jubilee said, looking straight into Quinn’s eyes, asking her to make promises again.
This time, Quinn knew she could keep them.
Tabitha had changed. Loving Jubilee had done that to her.
“I will.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” Quinn said.
Chance stepped off the porch, gave Boone a gentle nudge. “You’re giant-size. You might want to get down on her level,” he suggested.
And Boone crouched, reaching into his jacket pocket, and pulling something from it. A tiny rosebud, pink and soft.
“This is for you, Jubilee. It reminds me of when you were a baby. You had a pretty little rosebud mouth and bright red hair. You were the prettiest baby I’d ever seen.”
He held the flower out, and Jubilee took it, tucked it into the pocket of her jeans. She didn’t offer a smile, didn’t say a word. Just took Boone’s hand and walked over to Lucy. The two little girls stared at each other for several long moments, and then Lucy smiled.
“Let’s swing. You like to swing, right, Ju-bee? That man is going to push us.”
She pointed at August, who gave a belabored sigh, a hint of a smile in his eyes.
And then the girls were racing to the swing. Apart and then suddenly together, holding hands as they reached August. He helped them onto the tire, cautioned them to hold on as Lucy begged to be pushed higher and higher.
“It’s going to be okay,” Boone said to no one in particular, his gaze on his daughters. “God has done this thing for us. He’s in control of it. In His time, it will be what it should be. For now, let’s just be thankful for what we have.”
That was it, the spell was broken.
The adults began to mill around, talking and chatting about kids and work and weather. The caseworker suddenly had the baby in her arms, and Scout was serving tall glasses of lemonade.
Despite the awkwardness, the newness, it was a family. Not just parents and kids, but friends, all working together for a common goal. To make the transition as easy as it could be, to maintain old relationships, to build new ones.
“What are you thinking?” Malone asked, brushing a strand of hair from Quinn’s cheek and looking into her eyes. “Because, whatever it is, it’s making you smile.”
“Just thinking you’re not the only one who gives flowers. That was sweet, what Boone did.”
“He loves her. Flowers are a small token of that.”
“You know what else I was thinking?” she asked, studying his handsome face, his dark eyes and that scar that told the story about the kind of man he was. One who would sacrifice everything for the people he loved, who’d give his life for those he cared about.
“What?” he asked with a gentle smile.
“That this is a small token, too.” She slipped the ring from her finger, slid it onto his pinky. “Take it with you when you go, Malone.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, and she nodded, her throat tight with tears of sorrow and of joy.
He nodded, leaning in, his lips brushing hers.
“I love you, Quinn,” he whispered. “More than the ocean loves the shore.”
“I love you, too,” she responded, and he kissed her again. With hope. With love. With promises for the moment and for the future.
“Hey, lovebirds!” August called. “Break it up! The kiddos are watching.”
“That brother of yours is becoming a pest,” Malone muttered.
And Quinn laughed, the sound ringing out into the afternoon, floating on wings of joy into the beautiful summer sky.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from DECEPTION by Elizabeth Goddard
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Dear Reader,
Quinn Robertson knows what it’s like to walk the path of sorrow and despair. After losing her husband to brain cancer, she struggles to see the goodness of God through the difficulties she faces. Her journey is one we all must take. None of us is untouched by difficulties, and as I wrote Quinn’s story, I couldn’t help thinking about how much greater God is than the temporary challenges life brings our way. It isn’t just an attitude of acceptance that gets us through these difficult times, but a deep-seated understanding that in the darkest moments, we are not alone.
May you find peace through Him today!
I love hearing from readers. You can drop me a line at [email protected] or connect with me on Facebook or Twitter!
Shirlee McCoy
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Deception
by Elizabeth Goddard
ONE
Dead Man Falls
Mountain Cove, Alaska
Edging closer to the precipice that overlooked the plunging waterfall, Jewel Caraway risked a glance down. Vertigo hit. Dizziness mingled with worry.
Meral and Buck should have beaten Jewel to the falls where they had planned to meet up.
“Meral!” she yelled.
The roar of the water that cascaded hundreds of feet below drowned out her calls, sucking them down with the rushing water. A foaming whirlpool twisted where the frothing, tumbling force pounded the pool at its base. Misty spray drifted up and enveloped Jewel in a sheen of moisture. The sound of her voice could never compete with the rumbling growl of the cataract.
She tugged out her cell phone before she remembered she would get no cell signal here. The only signal she ever had was in Mountain Cove proper. She put the cell away, her gaze drawn back to the waterfall.
Powerful and dangerous.
Beautiful and terrifying.
Dead Man Falls was a force to be reckoned with. That was if one were to take the plunge and get sucked into the swirling torrent at the base.
Kayakers had attempted to navigate the drop and failed.
Part of a rainbow, transparent and fading into the mist, caught her attention. Mesmerized, Jewel stood at the edge of the rocky, moss-covered ledge that was flanked by spruce and hemlock, firs and cedars in the lush, temperate rainforest. She watched the churning at the bottom of an endless vortex that would trap anyone or anything unfortunate enough to fall. She wondered what secrets it held in its depths—then flinched at the memory of how she had buried a secret of her own and never thought about it again. That was until Meral, the sister she hadn’t seen since Jewel had eloped twenty years ago, had arrived on her doorstep with her new husband.
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