Sunday Kind of Love

by Dorothy Garlock

  There would be no looking back for either of them.

  As she walked, Gwen waved to people she knew and glanced in the store windows she passed. The baby carriage on display at the department store reminded her that she wasn’t the only one in Buckton whose life had been dramatically changed in the last year.

  Sandy and John had taken to being parents like ducks to water. While Kelly hadn’t been the best sleeper at first, making for some long nights in the Fiderlein house, she was still the sweetest baby Gwen had ever laid eyes on. Whenever Gwen stopped by for a visit, which was as often as she could, the girl instantly brightened at the sight of her “aunt,” full of gurgles and smiles. Sandy returned the favor, dropping in at the Bulletin, pushing a stroller up and down Buckton’s streets, showing her daughter her hometown. For his part, John was as dutiful a dad as there had ever been. Having a girl instead of a boy had done nothing to diminish his enthusiasm. Sandy playfully complained that her husband was spoiling Kelly, bringing home so many toys they might as well open up a shop.

  For Gwen, Sandy’s growing family was an inspiration.

  The sweet and savory smells of her father’s bakery reached her nose from more than a block away. Customers came out carrying loaves of bread and other delicious treats. Even though she was running late, Gwen poked her head in the door, as she did every time she went past.

  “Gwennie!” her father shouted from behind the counter. “Come on in! You gotta try this new pastry I whipped up. I swear it’s my best yet!”

  “I can’t, Dad,” she replied. “I’m on my way to pick up Hank for lunch. I don’t want to spoil my appetite.”

  “You’re missin’ out,” Warren said with a wink, trying to tempt her. “The two of you are still comin’ for dinner tonight, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Should be fun. Your mom’s makin’ meat loaf, so you know I’ll be bellyin’ up to the table plenty early!”

  Her father was still laughing as the door closed behind her.

  What a difference a year makes…

  In the weeks and months after Gwen’s article about Pete’s death had appeared in the newspaper, no one’s attitude toward Hank had changed more than her father’s. Warren had admitted that he’d been wrong, apologized for his behavior, and played a different tune from that day forward. He and Hank fished in the Sawyer, worked on projects around the house, and even drank beers as they listened to baseball games out in the garage. Gwen suspected that her father had also worked to influence others from behind his bakery counter, talking to those who were reluctant to give the former pariah another chance.

  Meredith had also mended her ways, much as she’d tended to Hank’s wounds the night his workshop had been burned. Gwen suspected that one reason her mother had forgiven Hank so quickly was because his sacrifice had been for family; having been rejected by her own over her choice of husband, Meredith was particularly protective of familial bonds and appreciative of those who felt the same. It didn’t hurt that she’d also proven to be a huge fan of Hank’s woodworking craftsmanship, ordering a number of pieces for her home.

  As for Samantha, little had changed. Along with Sandy, she’d been one of the only people who had encouraged Gwen’s interest in Hank. Still a regular presence around her brother’s dinner table, she seemed genuinely happy for her niece, jokingly asking when she should expect a wedding announcement. Even though Samantha was still searching for Mr. Right, she didn’t let that keep her from enjoying all that life had to offer. Still, whenever Gwen saw Brent Irving, the judge’s son her aunt had once hoped to marry, her heart felt a little heavy.

  Hurrying down the sidewalk, Gwen nearly bumped into a man as he stepped out of the post office. “Good afternoon, Mr. Tate,” she said.

  “Right back atcha, Gwen,” the auto mechanic replied. “Say, when you see Sid, let him know I’ve got some new ads I wanna try out.”

  “I will,” she said before hurrying on her way.

  Carl Tate, the Morgans, and several others in Buckton, including Hank, had suffered great losses at the hands of Jed Ringer and his accomplices. For weeks, they had burned their way across town, destroying property and stealing mementos for some perverse reason. It wasn’t until they’d been stopped in the act of torching Hank’s workshop that they were locked behind bars. Between the evidence collected from Jed’s trunk and Sam’s courtroom testimony, which implicated all three of them in acts of arson, they’d been quickly found guilty as charged. Jed had been quite the sight on the witness stand, both of his arms and one leg encased in plaster casts as he slowly healed from the damage done by both Hank and Gwen. All three men had been sent to prison. It would be many long years before they were set free.

  Rounding the corner past Elm Avenue, Gwen reached her destination. After years of cajoling his friend, Skip had finally managed to convince Hank to go into business with him. Their furniture store was set to open at the end of the week. Skip would deal with customers, taking orders for pieces that Hank would then build in his new workshop at the rear of the store. They’d also stockpiled a sizable inventory, which would be on display. As she approached, the two partners were out on the sidewalk, staring up at the sign they’d hung.

  It read BUCKTON FURNITURE.

  “Just in time to give your opinion,” Skip said when Gwen joined them. “What do you think? Pretty eye-catchin’ if I do say so myself.”

  “I like it,” she agreed.

  “Are you sure it’s high enough?” Hank asked with a frown.

  “It’s fine!” Skip answered, playfully throwing his hands up in exasperation; clearly they’d been having a bit of a disagreement.

  “I just don’t want people to miss it.”

  “It’s candy-apple red!” his friend exclaimed. “The only way it’d be more noticeable is if you put lights around it like a movie marquee!”

  “Don’t give him any ideas,” Gwen said.

  Just then, the telephone rang inside the store. Like a flash, Skip was moving toward it. “Could be a customer,” he explained over his shoulder.

  When the revelation of his innocence in his brother’s death had been published in the newspaper, Hank had thought that Skip might be hurt. After all, even though they were best friends, Hank had never confessed his secret to him. But when Hank tried to apologize, Skip had waved it away.

  “I don’t care how the truth came out,” he’d said. “Just that it did.”

  Once Hank no longer had a reason to avoid town, Skip had redoubled his efforts to get his friend to go into business with him. He’d argued, rather convincingly, that with his financial prowess and Hank’s substantial woodworking skill, they could really amount to something. Since there was no one Hank trusted more, particularly when it came to money, he’d agreed. The people of Buckton had donated to those who had been affected by Jed’s acts of arson; Hank had used his as a contribution to their new business. Now here they were, nearing the culmination of all their plans and dreams.

  “I think it should be higher,” Hank grumbled.

  “You’re worrying for nothing,” Gwen told him. “Trust me.”

  “I just want everything to be perfect. Friday will be here before we know it.”

  “And everyone will say, ‘That sign’s just the right height!’”

  “Smart aleck,” he said, but they both laughed.

  Looking at him, still finding him the handsomest man she’d ever laid eyes on, Gwen was convinced that Hank was about to propose to her. It was a feeling more than anything: glances shared between Hank and her father; the way he stared at her when he thought she wasn’t looking, a smile curling the corners of his mouth; and especially the clumsy way he’d asked her what her ring size was, throwing the question out while commenting about a jewelry box Freddie Holland had ordered.

  He needn’t worry. If he asked—when he asked—she wouldn’t hesitate.

  The answer would be yes.

  The almost-year they had been together had been the happiest of Gwen’s li
fe. Every day was a treasure, full of laughter, passion, encouragement, and even friendship. She wasn’t afraid to be honest around him, to voice her worries and fears. Hank always seemed to know just what to say, building up her confidence or steering her in a slightly different direction. She tried to do the same in return; when he’d asked her opinion about Skip’s business proposal, Gwen had told him to accept. They were building a future together, something to last a lifetime.

  If that wasn’t love, she had no idea what was.

  “Did you have a chance to talk to your father?” Gwen asked.

  He nodded.

  “So how did it go?”

  Hank’s smile faltered but didn’t completely vanish. The last ten months had been hardest on Myron. Having been revealed as the driver in the accident that claimed Pete’s life was bad enough, but his allowing Hank to lie about it seemed to make things worse. Once, in the bank, Gwen had heard someone call Myron a coward; she thought the broken man would likely have agreed. Fortunately Sid Keaton had been right and the police declined to press charges. While Hank believed that his father wasn’t drinking as much as he used to, it wasn’t unusual for Gwen to smell alcohol on Myron’s breath. But with the furniture business about to open, she’d suggested to Hank that he ask his father to help; maybe some time working beside his son would help him take another step in the right direction.

  “He said he’d think about it,” Hank answered.

  “At least he didn’t turn you down,” she said in encouragement.

  “How about you? Did you make your phone call?”

  “I did.”

  “So what did he say?”

  Shortly after she’d started working at the Bulletin, Gwen had begun writing a novel on the side. Freed from her restricting relationship with Kent, strongly encouraged by Hank, back home and surrounded by friends and family, Gwen couldn’t contain the words welling up inside her. She’d outlined some ideas, then fed paper into the typewriter and begun. As with all her other writing, she obsessed over the words, occasionally growing frustrated enough to consider quitting. But in those dark times, Hank had been there, refusing to let her give up so easily. Finally, through hard work and dedication, she had a manuscript she was proud of. Not knowing what she was supposed to do next, Gwen had decided to contact Dwight Wirtz, her old teacher back at Worthington.

  “He gave me the names of a couple people he knows in the publishing business,” she said. “He also asked if he could read it.”

  Hank’s eyebrows rose. “Are you going to send it to him? I know how you can get. You’ll be on pins and needles until he’s finished.”

  Gwen smiled. “You’re right, but I’m still going to do it.” She nodded toward the furniture store. “It’s like I told you when Skip wanted to open this place. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

  “The only thing I’m interested in gaining right now is a hamburger at Lafferty’s,” he said. “Sign hanging made me hungry.”

  “Did someone mention lunch?” Skip asked, stepping back outside. Pointing at Hank, he added, “And it’s even your turn to buy.”

  “I’m buying,” Gwen announced.

  “What’s the occasion?” Skip asked as he closed up the shop.

  She slipped her hand into Hank’s. “To new beginnings. For all of us.”

  Skip shrugged. “I’ll eat to that.”

  “Give us a second, here,” Hank said as Skip started down the sidewalk; his friend waved without looking back.

  Once they were alone, he said, “Do you really like the sign?”

  “Of course I do,” Gwen answered.

  “I just want it to be perfect. This is important for more than just me and Skip. This is about us, too. I don’t want to screw it up.”

  Gwen stepped close, gently placing her hand on his arm; standing in the sun so long had made his skin warm to the touch. “You won’t,” she told him. “No matter what life throws at us, as long as we face it together, we’ll be fine.”

  Hank grinned, then nodded. He leaned close, his lips brushing against her cheek. “I love you.”

  “Enough to jump into a river for me?” This question had become something of a running exchange between them.

  “Again and again,” he answered.

  Gwen smiled. If he had to, she had no doubt Hank would do just that.

  And that was why she loved him back.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Dorothy Garlock is one of America’s—and the world’s—favorite novelists. Her work has consistently appeared on national bestsellers lists, including the New York Times list, and there are over fifteen million copies of her books in print, translated into eighteen languages. She has won more than twenty writing awards, including an RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Historical Fiction for A Week from Sunday, five Silver Pen Awards from Affaire de Coeur, and three Silver Certificate Awards. Her novel With Hope was chosen by Amazon as one of the best romances of the twentieth century.

  After retiring as a news reporter and bookkeeper in 1978, Dorothy began her career as a novelist with the publication of Love and Cherish. She lives in Clear Lake, Iowa. You can visit her website at DorothyGarlock.com.

  Books by Dorothy Garlock

  After the Parade

  Almost Eden

  Annie Lash

  By Starlight

  Come a Little Closer

  Dreamkeepers

  Dream River

  The Edge of Town

  Forever Victoria

  A Gentle Giving

  Glorious Dawn

  High on a Hill

  Homeplace

  Hope’s Highway

  Keep a Little Secret

  Larkspur

  Leaving Whiskey Bend

  The Listening Sky

  Lonesome River

  Love and Cherish

  Loveseekers

  Midnight Blue

  The Moon Looked Down

  More than Memory

  Mother Road

  Nightrose

  On Tall Pine Lake

  A Place Called Rainwater

  Promisegivers

  Restless Wind

  Ribbon in the Sky

  River of Tomorrow

  River Rising

  The Searching Hearts

  Sins of Summer

  Song of the Road

  Stay a Little Longer

  Sweetwater

  Take Me Home

  Tenderness

  This Loving Land

  Train from Marietta

  Twice in a Lifetime

  Under a Texas Sky

  Wayward Wind

  A Week from Sunday

  Wild Sweet Wilderness

  Will You Still Be Mine?

  Wind of Promise

  Wishmakers

  With Heart

  With Hope

  With Song

  Yesteryear

  HEARTFELT PRAISE FOR

  DOROTHY GARLOCK

  AND HER UNFORGETTABLE NOVELS

  “Garlock is a master.”

  —Booklist

  “A gifted writer.”

  —Chicago Sun-Times

  “One of America’s most endearing historical fiction authors.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  TWICE IN A LIFETIME

  “Garlock’s terrific story, set in mid-20th-century Missouri, pairs a lonely single mother with a flashy auto racer...Garlock keeps readers so wrapped up in Drake and Clara’s romance that it’s impossible to put the book down. Thoroughly credible characters and the aw-shucks charm of their small town make this a winner.”

  —Publishers Weekly starred review

  “From the undisputed queen of Americana historical fiction comes a warm and realistic novel of a man’s search for a dream and the woman who receives the gift of a second chance at love. It is the quiet beauty of the storytelling and the characters’ struggles, as well as the convincing backdrop, that draw readers to Garlock’s novels time and again. This is one her fans will cheris
h.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  TAKE ME HOME

  “Garlock’s lovely, sweet novel is a testament to the last great generation.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Take Me Home has a unique perspective for a historical novel set during World War II.”

  —FreshFiction.com

  UNDER A TEXAS SKY

  “Garlock is a masterful storyteller who recognizes what her audience craves and consistently delivers a sweet, nostalgic read that conveys the reality and romance of the era…There is enough depth of emotion in Under a Texas Sky to satisfy her fans.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Who could resist a romantic summertime read from the ‘Voice of America’s Heartland,’ especially with ‘Texas’ in the title?”

  —Fort Worth Star-Telegram (TX)

  “The latest from romance doyenne Garlock mixes light suspense with traditional romance for an entertaining effect.”

  —Booklist

  BY STARLIGHT

  “Few authors can recreate the atmosphere of a 1930s small town as beautifully and faithfully as Garlock. She imbues each story with a classic American aura while creating a touching, realistic plotline peopled by authentic characters.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “An emotional tale of two people in an almost impossible situation…Dorothy Garlock has made the early twentieth century her own and has another winner in her latest novel.”

  —RomRevToday.com

  COME A LITTLE CLOSER

  “Few authors capture the atmosphere and voices of the heartland during the mid-twentieth century like Garlock. She completes her Tucker family trilogy with a tender, realistic look at small-town America after WWII and what war can do to those who fought and those who waited at home. Crisp prose and simple words cannot hide the powerful underlying lessons of loss, friendship, brotherly love, family ties, and the simple acts of kindness that bind a community.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Another winner for Dorothy Garlock…a wonderful romance.”