by Lenora Worth
Tomas wondered about that. “Have you?”
Gerard let out a brittle cackle. “Look at me. Alone and dying. If you hadn’t come along, I’d still be in that cesspool of a nursing home. My wife hated me and we couldn’t even have children. She died hating me. What do you think? Haven’t I paid for what I did to you?”
“I don’t have the answer to that,” Tomas said. “But...I want to have a good life with Callie Blanchard. I love her. I want her to get well and marry me. So I’m here to say I forgive you. I forgive you for what you did to my mother and me.” He stopped, a great breath of relief washing over him. “I forgive you.”
Gerard blinked back more tears then reached out a shaking hand to his son. “I’ve waited to hear that since the day you were born.”
Tomas took his father’s hand, his own tears cooling his heated skin. He stood there, holding his father’s frail fingers in his palm until Gerard had drifted back to sleep. And then, for a while longer.
* * *
Callie smiled at the nurses hovering around her. “I’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll wear gloves and masks and a full bodysuit if I can avoid this again.”
The orderly helping her into a wheelchair laughed out loud. “Miss Callie, we’re sure gonna miss you. You’ve always got that smile. We need that smile around here.”
Callie grinned and pointed to the Gerber daisy sitting on the windowsill. It was blooming to beat the band. “I’m leaving my flower with y’all. Think of me when you see it.”
They all gushed and giggled.
“I’m putting it at the nurses’ station right now,” one of the nurses stated. “You have a gift with gardening, Callie.”
“I do,” Callie said, in awe. “I’m blessed.”
One of the nurses turned when the door opened. “You sure are, honey.”
Callie saw Tomas standing there with more flowers. No roses, of course, but a bright bouquet of wildflowers.
“Hi,” he said, slipping into the room. “Ready to go home?”
“Yes.” She thanked God she was better, so much better. “Are you ready to take me home?”
“Very.” He handed her the flowers then leaned down to kiss her. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” She could tell the difference in him almost immediately. “How’s your father today?”
Tomas shook his head. “Stubborn, contrary, but...he’s holding his own.”
Callie didn’t press for any more details. She only knew that Tomas and his father had made their peace and now, Tomas seemed younger, stronger, more happy than she’d ever seen him. He’d come to her late one night and told her that he’d talked to Gerard Dubois. He’d cried and they’d prayed together, thanking God for this grace. Then Tomas had told her he loved her.
“Plain and simple, like that?” she’d asked.
“Not so plain and surely not so simple,” he’d replied. “But yes, just like that. From the moment I saw you out in my garden.”
Now, she kept smiling over her shoulder as Tomas followed the wheelchair out into the bright morning sunshine. Out at the car waiting at the entrance, she saw her papa with Aunt Selena, Alma, Julien, Brenna and Nick. Her family was waiting for her.
She turned back to Tomas and nodded. “My life is complete.”
He leaned down again and kissed her. “Not quite. You still have to marry me.”
And there with her family surrounding her, Callie watched in awe as Tomas got down on one knee in front of her, a tiny black box in his hand. “Will you marry me, Callie?”
Callie stared at him then glanced at her waiting family. The tears in her sisters’ eyes caused her to shed a few. But when she saw her proud, sweet papa wiping at his nose, she knew she couldn’t be any more blessed. The infection was gone and her doctors had assured her she was on the mend. Her cancer was in remission. She’d beat it once again. Now she only wanted to be with Tomas. “I will. I will marry you.”
The nurses and the orderly clapped and whooped while Tomas put the sweet solitaire on her finger and kissed her. “Now we can take you home,” he said.
The next spring
“You may kiss the bride.”
Tomas grinned at Reverend Guidry then turned to pull Callie into his arms. She felt so solid and sure, healthy again and strong again, his forever.
When he lifted his head, her smile shone like the sun and warmed him deep inside his heart, in that place that had hurt for so long. The place that she’d helped to heal.
All around the gazebo, their family and friends clapped and cried and hooted their approval, his father, frail but determined in his wheelchair with his nurse Beth watching out for him, included.
The beautiful spring day looked ready-made for a wedding, with lush, white Casablanca lilies scenting the air in the garden that Callie had built and nurtured in the same way she’d shaped and nurtured him.
Tomas kissed her again as they moved down from the ribbon-bedecked gazebo and followed the trail of gardenia petals to the wide terrace on the back of the house to enjoy all kinds of food and the wedding cake. Alma and Brenna traipsed around in their floral bridesmaid dresses while Nick and Julien served as best man and groomsman, respectively. Mrs. LeBlanc held her new grandson, Jules, but Alma patted her four-month-old and tugged at his fuzzy blue socks as she walked by.
Tomas didn’t pay much attention to the Zydeco music or the food or the many happy people mingling in his garden. He couldn’t take his eyes off the bride.
Callie, in her mother’s wedding gown with a simple tiara of baby’s breath as her veil, her chin-length bob of newly grown hair curly and carefree. Callie, laughing and tanned, smiling and in remission from her cancer.
Callie. His at last.
After everyone had left and his bride was huddled in a corner with her sisters, Tomas turned to find Ramon Blanchard walking toward him.
“Mr. Blanchard,” Tomas said with a handshake. “How are you, sir?”
“Call me Papa,” Ramon said, his dark eyes centered on his three girls. “I came to say I want to thank you for all you’ve done for my Callie.”
Tomas looked down, embarrassed. “You can have her portrait back, you know. I don’t expect you to allow me to keep it.”
Ramon shook his head. “You don’t understand, mon ami. I don’t need de picture to know my daughter is beautiful and precious.”
“I don’t, either,” Tomas admitted. “I have the real thing.”
“Yes, you do at dat,” Ramon said on a roll of laughter. “And I expect you paid dearly for that privilege. Don’t ever take it for granted.”
“Never.” Tomas watched as Callie laughed and waved to them. “But about the portrait...”
“Keep dat, too. I can never repay you for all you’ve done, but if you take good care of her, dat’s payment enough, oui?”
“Oui,” Tomas replied, his eyes on Callie. “Now I have a new work of art.”
Ramon laughed again. “Gonna be a mighty interesting time at your house, I reckon.”
* * *
Two hours later, Callie and Tomas were back in the gazebo watching the sun setting over the bayou.
He held his bride close, the scent of her distinctively floral perfume tickling at his nose. “You are a beautiful bride.”
“Thank you. I felt beautiful today. A perfect day.”
“The best,” Tomas agreed. “Callie, are you sure you want to live here?”
She turned to stare up at him. “Are you sure you want me to live here?”
“You’re my wife, so yes, I’m sure.”
“We could renovate that old carriage house up on the road,” she said, grinning. “It’s smaller and covered in kudzu and bramble, but I’ve always thought it would make a pretty English cottage.”
Tomas threw back his head and la
ughed out loud. “You have Fleur House, but now you want an English cottage?”
“I don’t have Fleur House. It belongs to all of us.”
He understood what she was saying. “But...what about children?”
“I like children.”
“I mean, we’d need more room.”
“They’d have all of this to run around on. I can keep a watch over the gardens and we can open the house for parties and tours. Maybe even weddings.”
“You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?”
She nodded. “But...renovating the cottage will take time. For now, we have our honeymoon to consider.”
He nodded at that. “Yes, and I do believe my bride requested spending our first night together right here at Fleur House.”
“I do believe you are right,” she said. “But right now let’s watch this sweet sunset.”
But when they glanced back, the skies to the west had turned dark. A strand of lightning blazed the sky then thunder boomed loudly overhead.
“Never mind that,” Tomas shouted. “Let’s get you inside.”
But he knew with the first fat drops of rain that his bride wasn’t ready to go inside. So he watched and laughed and thanked God for her.
While she lifted her arms to the sky and danced in her mother’s wedding gown.
In the rain.
When she turned and motioned for him to join her, Tomas gave in and gave away his heart. He ran out and grabbed her close, and together they laughed up at the sky.
Then he lifted his bride, wet skirts and all, into his arms and carried her into their home.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from HIS IDEAL MATCH by Arlene James.
Dear Reader,
This story has to rank as one of my favorites (as much as one can love one’s own work, that is). But I knew the day I met Callie that she would require a special man in her life. Callie was content being single and alone, but she dreamed of a family of her own and secretly longed for someone to love. Tomas was a tortured soul bent on getting even with the people who had scorned him. So sunshine and light meets darkness and despair and together, Callie and Tomas find a good balance of faith and love and forgiveness.
I hope you enjoyed this final installment of my bayou series. I might revisit Fleur, Louisiana, one day and see what’s happening with the Blanchard clan. I sure will remember these characters for a long time to come. Thanks for taking this journey with me.
Until next time, may the angels watch over you. Always.
Questions for Discussion
The theme of this story is forgiveness. Do you find it hard to forgive someone from your past? How have you handled this?
Callie has a sweet spirit and an outgoing nature that charms people. But Tomas was hard to charm. Do you think she was being vain in wondering why he didn’t like her? Did she handle things in a good way?
Tomas had a lot of bitterness to deal with. Have you ever felt this way? Do you tend to hold things inside or open up and let go?
In spite of his chaotic childhood, Tomas had a love of art and beauty. Do you think this is why he was so attracted to Callie? How did getting to know her help him to slowly change?
Callie’s attitude was one of faith and hope. Tomas had an attitude of doubt and despair. Even with all his money, he couldn’t be positive. Have you ever felt this way in spite of being blessed? Do you sometimes doubt your faith?
Callie loved the outdoor world and growing things. But she was also sick and had to stay inside. How do you think this changed her attitude? How did her faith help her?
Tomas had lost his wife to addiction and pain. Is this why he was afraid to love Callie? Or did he just have a distrust of faith?
Tomas told Callie he’d stayed by his wife until the end. Why was it so important that she understand this about him?
Callie didn’t want to be a burden or obligation to her family or Tomas. Why did she try to hide her illness from him? Why did he fight to save her, and how did that fight change him?
The Blanchard family was very close and very strong in faith. Tomas had no one and his faith was shaky at best. Have you ever invited someone like that into your family?
Callie’s sisters rallied around her to help her get well. Do you know people who’d do the same for you? Have you ever dealt with a health crisis?
Tomas had to learn to trust everyone around him. How did Callie help him do this? Why did she insist he go to his father and forgive him?
Gardening is a pleasant and comforting pastime for many. Why is it so true that we are closer to God in a garden?
Callie found solitude in her work and with her dog, Elvis. Together, the two gave her a sense of security. How did Tomas mess with that? Why did she resist him at first?
Tomas fell for Callie when he saw her dancing in the rain. But he had to get to know her before he could act on his feelings. Why is it important that we get to know people before we judge them, good or bad? Have you ever misjudged someone based on first impressions?
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!
Visit Harlequin.com to find your next great read.
We like you—why not like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com
Subscribe to our newsletter for special offers, new releases, and more!
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Chapter One
The wrought iron gate stood ajar, so Phillip Chatam slipped into the leafy courtyard of the Downtown Bible Church of Buffalo Creek, Texas. Here, landscape lighting held back the gathering gloom of this first Thursday evening of June. Behind him rose the sanctuary in all its stylized Spanish glory. Ahead of him, a walkway wound through the trees and flower beds. It was a peaceful place, but had he not promised his aunts—the renowned seventy-five-year-old triplets of Chatam House—that he would attend tonight’s grief support meeting, he would not be here.
When his aunts had politely but firmly insisted that he attend this meeting, he could have told them that they were mistaken in their assumption that grief and fear had driven him away from his occupation of the past several years and into this state of ennui, where he had languished for the past five weeks. Of course, he grieved the deaths of his friends and coworkers in a fall from the mountain in Washington State where he had worked for some time. He had functioned in a daze for at least six weeks after the accident.
The company he’d worked for had brought in professional counselors, and Phillip, like the other guides and outfitters, had attended his obligatory three sessions. Like the others, he had experienced moments of fear and discomfort on his next climb, and truth be told, he had secretly welcomed such emotions. Guiding tourists on mountain climbs had become old hat. Fear had at least added an element of excitement to the process. The apprehension had rapidly dissipated, however, and he had known then that it was time to move on. But to what?
For eight months he had gone through the motions. The whole time, he’d been looking for the next challenge, the next adventure. In the past, something had always cropped up. This time, though, he hadn’t been able to wait on it. This time, he’d started to worry that his lack of enthusiasm for the work was going to get someone else hurt. He’d walked away in the middle of the season, just packed up his stuff
and left Seattle for Texas. He’d spent the past five weeks at Chatam House, the antebellum mansion where his aunties had lived their entire lives and the lodestone of the large, far-flung Chatam family.
During that time, his parents had harassed him almost daily about finding a “real” job, and his aunts had worried that he was ignoring his grief. The least he could do, given that the aunties had opened their home to him, was assuage their concern by schlepping downtown to a meeting of the DBC Grief Support Group.
He followed the signs along a hallway and down a flight of stairs to the meeting room in the basement. Soft instrumental music and muted light greeted him as he passed through the open doorway. A pair of older women smiled at him from the counter laden with cookies, coffee and water. His gaze swept the softly lit room, taking in the other occupants. Most were older than him. A boy and girl in their late teens or early twenties appeared to be siblings. Hub, Phillip’s elderly uncle and a retired minister, swooped in with arms spread wide in welcome.
“Phillip! So good to see you.” Reaching up to slide an arm across Phillip’s shoulders, Hub turned to address the milling group. “My nephew Phillip Chatam is joining us tonight. He’s come home to Texas from Seattle.”
Most people nodded and offered taut smiles, but the two women at the refreshment table beamed as they carried over napkin-wrapped cookies and a disposable cup of coffee strong enough to anchor a grappling hook. Phillip accepted both with self-conscious nods before dropping down onto the nearest folding chair. About a dozen of them had been arranged in a horseshoe shape. The other attendees quietly took up seats, leaving several empty, including the one on the end to Phillip’s left.
“Let us begin with silent prayer,” said Hub.
Everyone hushed. Several moments ticked by while Phillip tried to think of a prayer, finally coming up with, God, be with the families of those who died.