by T. I. Lowe
“I bet they fell head over their too-high heels when they saw your GQ-self saunter in.”
“I put them in their place.” He looked sternly at the water.
Leah leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “My hero.”
“I met Shayna, and she served me all of your favorite donuts. Let me tell you, I ate every single delicious one of them. She says to tell you she’s glad you survived and that the devil is finally dead.”
Leah seemed lost in thought, so Crowley nudged her legs with his. “You have a small fortune waiting for you to claim in Washington too.”
“I don’t want any of it. Can you set it up to be donated to the children’s home?” she asked as she gazed out over the river.
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll give Sue a call this week and start working out the legal part of it,” Crowley said.
Leah looked down at her hands. “You walked straight through my past in two days. Did you meet anyone else I knew?”
“No. That was it.”
“The only one you didn’t meet was my doctor in Washington. I need to let her know that I’m okay,” Leah whispered as she absent-mindedly brushed her hand over her flat abdomen.
“We can do that tomorrow. What’s her name?” Crowley rubbed her back.
“Dr. Clara Simmons.”
The name reminded Crowley of something. Hopping up quickly, he headed towards the cabin. “I’ll be right back,” he said over his shoulder.
Leah watched as he shuffled in and back out in a flash, carrying her Bible.
“I thought you might want this, but the name inside threw me.” He handed over the Bible and Leah flipped through the dog-eared pages.
She sniffed away tears as she smiled warmly down at the pages. “She gave me this the very day I met her. She said I needed to get to know God better. And she was absolutely right.”
“Sounds like my kind of woman,” Crowley said, smiling.
“You need to thank her for intoxicating me enough with her Georgia twang to the point I went in search of one for myself.” Leah smiled at the memory of Dr. Simmons with her rich southern roots.
“I’ll send her a vanload of roses and chocolates for sending you to me.”
“God sent me here. He just used her to point me in the right direction.”
“Amen,” Crowley stated proudly. Leah finally understood.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It was just before dawn on Sunday morning; Leah lay snuggled under her chenille blanket in her bed. A quiet knock on the door sent a smile to her lips. She wrapped a light throw blanket over her shoulders and padded to the front door. Knowing who it was, she opened the door and met the gaze of those ocean-blue eyes.
Crowley took in the sight of her. She was wearing a simple white cotton gown and was adorably rumpled from sleep. He pulled her towards him and gathered her in his arms. “You’re taking the place of my addiction to sweets, Miss Leah. You make my mouth water,” he whispered as he skimmed his nose along the sensitive skin of her neck.
“You say that a lot. Tell me, Mr. Crowley, when was the first time I made your mouth water?” she asked as he brushed kisses along her jaw.
He pulled back enough to meet her eyes before answering. “The first time my mouth watered over you, my fine lady, was during the ice storm. I came in after shooting fireworks and stole me a kiss right off that sweet cheek of yours.” He smiled and placed his palm on the cheek in question.
“No way. I was getting over the flu.” She looked at him doubtfully.
“Believe it. I knew right then and there.”
“What did you know?” she asked.
He ignored the question. “Would you please accompany me on a walk?”
She let the question go and agreed. Crowley stole a quick kiss before agreeing to meet her downstairs.
Ten minutes later, she was dressed in a soft yellow summer dress with her hair tamed as best she could. She found Crowley sitting on a bench outside the café. It was the very same bench he had been stretched out on the first time she met him.
She eased up behind him and placed a kiss on the back of his neck. “Good morning.”
He turned around and slowly took in the sight of her. “Yes ma’am. That it is.” He smiled appreciatively as he took her in from head to toe before meeting her eyes. “You look delicious.”
Leah laughed. “Stop flirting with me and tell me where you’re taking me, sir.”
Crowley stood and took her hand in his massive one. “I’d like to show you the sunrise at the plantation. It’s quite spectacular to see how the sunrays dance through the oak trees.”
“I’d love to see that,” she said as they continued walking hand in hand.
Crowley led her through the gate and stopped halfway up the drive. The sun was beginning to peek through the trees. Before long the couple was treated to the breathtaking sunrise. The rays partook in a magical dance with the ancient oak trees in such a way it made Leah gasp in awe.
Her escort leaned toward her ear and whispered, “Welcome to a new day.”
“Thank you for inviting me,” she said as she turned in his arms to face him.
Crowley led her closer to the house and stopped near the front steps. “Leah, this plantation has been in my family for many generations. My name goes back to at least four of them. My ancestors believed in a strong family bond and values. I want to continue that legacy. I helped rebuild this house hoping God would bless me with a wife who would help me fill it up with family. I just never dreamt it would take Him so long to send you to me. He made it clear to me during that ice storm that you were finally home.”
Crowley pulled a delicate silver and diamond ring out of his pocket. “This ring has been passed down in my family, just as this plantation has. It was my mother’s.” The muscles in his neck flexed as he tried to restrain his emotion. He met Leah’s watery gaze and cleared his throat so he could continue. “Leah, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife for the rest of my life?”
She nodded. “Yes.” She lifted a trembling hand to accept the ring. Rejoicing tears washed over her eyes. Never did she think such a man as Crowley Mason existed, much less be hers.
Crowley slid the antique ring on her finger. Then he pressed his lips to it. He gathered her in his arms before taking his lips to hers.
****
The wedding followed within one month of the proposal. Crowley said he had no patience when it came to starting his life with Leah, and honestly, he was tired of cold showers. The couple married right in the front yard of the plantation, with the groom wearing new leather flip-flops with his suit. The bride was in an antique lace gown and the highest of heels she could find.
It was a daylong event with the entire town showing up to celebrate. Intricate flower garlands of honeysuckle and peonies draped from the big oak trees and seemed to dance right along with the jovial guests. A scrumptious wedding cake prepared by Nate accompanied the southern spread prepared by Lulu. The guests ate and danced in merriment throughout the day as they celebrated the new life beginning for the Mason’s.
Long after the guests left that evening, the new couple swung in a porch swing as they took in the wonder of the wedding celebration. The crickets were beginning to welcome the night when the groom finally stood and swooped his bride up in his arms.
“Are you ready to go home, Mrs. Mason?” he asked his lovely wife as he walked her towards the front door.”
“Absolutely, Mr. Mason,” Leah said as she placed lazy kisses along his neck.
With that, he carried his new bride over the threshold of their home.
Epilogue
Leah stood in the formal living room of the plantation home with a laundry basket planted on her hip, staring at the large portrait that hung over the fireplace mantel. A smiling couple sat in a vintage canoe with fishing poles in hand. It was from their wedding day. A photographer wanted to capture them on the river behind the plantation. Crowley had agreed with the whole photo shoot after the
photographer promised to take some with their fishing poles.
Shouts brought Leah out of her reminiscing. “Momma! Momma!” the twins whined in unison. Leah looked back to find her six-year-old girls rushing towards her. “CJ won’t play tea party with us!” Layla Lulu Mason and Lola Lulu Mason looked up at her with identical ocean eyes just like their fathers.
Their eleven-year-old brother, Crowley Justin Mason V, walked up behind them with a look of pure misery on his face. His little sisters tended to worry him to no end. At only eleven, the kid was nearly as tall as his momma. No doubt he would top out around the same height as his dad. This meek boy was the finest wedding gift ever received, arriving almost nine months exactly after his parents’ wedding.
Leah restrained the laugh trying to escape her lips, for the sake of her son. “Girls, it’s almost time for your daddy. Why don’t you go make him a special snack?” she said.
“Yay!” They scurried towards the kitchen with the tea party instantly forgotten.
CJ walked up to his momma and placed a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks, Momma. Here, let me put the laundry away for you,” he said as he pulled the basket into his arms.
“My sweet boy, thank you.”
As she watched her oldest son head upstairs, Leah heard, before seeing, two racecar drivers round the corner. JC was pushing little Gabe in a wagon at record speed as the toddler held on to the handle while making wild car noises.
Justin Crowley Mason was a nine-year-old bundle of energy who seemed to never give out. This was a great thing since he enjoyed running after his three-year-old brother Gabriel Allen Mason almost nonstop.
“Whoa there, sir!” Leah raised her hands to stop the speed demons. JC came to an abrupt stop in front of his momma. Leah dug out a wipe she had tucked in her skirt pocket, ready to ambush when the time came. She quickly darted her hand out to clean today’s lunch off her toddler’s face before he could protest.
“No Mommy. Gotta go!” Gabe squealed as he tried to maneuver out of her grasp. “We gotta dwive!” Leah released him, and the two boys took off again.
She turned her gaze back to the black-and-white portrait with a grin. Her life couldn’t get any sweeter than this. As she thought this, warm hands worked their way under her blouse as she was pulled into a strong, broad chest.
“You make my mouth water, woman,” Crowley said playfully into his wife’s ear as his hands caressed her abdomen.
She pushed her rounding belly into his gentle hands. “Smooth talking like that, my husband, is the reason I stay in this shape.” The baby kicked at that moment as if to emphasize her momma’s point.
Lydia Lulu Mason was scheduled to arrive in just a few short weeks, topping the Mason children’s total at a whopping six.
“There’s nothing sexier than my beautiful bride round with growing my family,” he said as he nuzzled her ear.
The twins rushed in with their daddy’s snack of homemade granola bars slathered in natural peanut butter and sprinkled with raisins. “Look what we made you Daddy!” Lola said in delight.
Crowley released his bride and bent down to accept their offering. He crammed a huge bite in his mouth and started chewing playfully. “Yummy. Thanks, my two princesses.” He winked, causing them to giggle.
The racecar drivers also zoomed into the scene to celebrate their daddy’s arrival. Crowley had been upstate for the past few days, stuck in a courtroom, and his family had missed him considerably.
Crowley shared a bite of the granola bar with his eagerly waiting toddler. Leah grimaced as little Gabe smeared peanut butter across his chubby cheeks. She swiped a stray raisin off the plate and popped it into her mouth, trying to ignore his mess.
“How’d it go?” she asked her husband.
“We won, of course,” he said with a smug grin. “We need to celebrate.” He looked around, amused, as the kids cheered at his suggestion.
“How ‘bout some fishing to celebrate?” CJ said as he descended the stairs.
“That’s a great idea. Everyone needs to go get their fishing gear!” their dad said excitedly and watched as the children scattered to retrieve their hats and flip-flops. He turned towards the stairs to go change out of his suit when he noticed Leah on his heels. He stopped to look at her. “Where you going, ma’am?”
“To change into my fishing gear.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “Why don’t you just stay here and rest awhile?” She pouted, pushing out her bottom lip in protest, and he leaned forward to bite at it playfully. “Lydia is going to be here soon. You know you need to take breaks now while you still have the chance.”
“Fine. I’ll rest as long as you promise to catch me a river monster.”
“I’ll do my best,” he said. He gave her a kiss and began heading upstairs to change, with Leah still on his heels. He turned to give her a questioning look.
“Just going to go take in the view of my sexy lawyer changing into my sexy fisherman,” she whispered.
Crowley grinned. “Well hurry up then before the troops get restless,” he said as he hastily took two steps at a time.
A half-hour later, Leah was propped up on a lounge chair in the shade, watching her crowd head out to the river with fishing poles in hand. Five children, with nearly white-blond hair that curled every which away as their momma’s did, followed their gentle giant of a dad. Crowley was carrying little Gabe in one arm while holding one of the twin’s hand in the other. Every so often he would lean down to say something to make the other twin giggle joyously.
The sight of that man took her breath away. “Talk about pure sexy walking,” she said just as her phone vibrated in her pocket. The caller ID displayed that Momma Lu was calling. “Hey, Momma.”
“Hey, sweet girl. Has our boy made it home yet?” Lulu asked.
“Yes, ma’am. He’s celebrating with our babies at the river,” Leah said.
“That’s good. How’s the café?”
“Good. The new girl started today. I think she’s gonna work out great. Jessup stopped by and fixed the back grill element.”
“Starting Monday, I’m taking over your duties for a while. Our Lydia will be here soon and you need time to prepare.”
“Okay.” Leah grinned, remembering how she learned after a few baby rounds that there was no use in arguing.
“Supper will be ready by six. See y’all in a little while. Love you.”
“Love you too, Momma,” Leah said before hanging up.
Lulu had surprised her the following Christmas after the wedding by legally adopting Leah as her daughter. She also retired, saying she would need more time with her grandbabies. Leah gladly took over the café.
Smiling, Leah put the phone away and looked back towards her family. They had stopped, and Crowley was crouched down, listening to a now-standing Gabe. They both looked back at Leah. Crowley nodded, and the little boy raced back to his momma.
“What’s the matter, baby?” Leah asked as he climbed up into her lap.
“I wanted you.”
“You did?” Leah asked as she brushed a sweaty white curl off his forehead. Lulu often liked to say that God used up so much color in them Mason young’uns eyes that He didn’t have any left over for their hair.
Gabe nodded as he gathered his momma’s scarred palm in his chubby ones. “Mommy, why’s everybody always kissing you here?” He pointed at the scar. Crowley had kissed that palm so often that each child eventually asked the same question as her toddler now did.
“They are kissing my booboo away,” she said.
He studied the scar for a few minutes before guiding it to his sticky little lips and placing his own kiss there. He looked up at his momma and smiled. “Aw better.”
“Yes it is, my sweet boy.” Leah’s eyes filled with happy tears. The tenderness Crowley began on that night of her thirtieth birthday had trickled down with each one their children. He had taken such an ugly scar with an ugly past and made it something exceptional. There was no way Leah could ever
look down at that scar and not see all the millions of precious kisses that had been placed there.
Leah was so thankful for the healing God had graciously granted her—taking her ugly past and blessing her with an exceptional life beyond those wounds.
With enough love, scars can completely heal.
“Heal me, Lord and I will be healed; save me and I will be saved, for you are the one I praise” Jeremiah 17:14.
Why I Write
Christmas is a time to celebrate the birth of our Savior, but Christmas 2011 will be one I am ashamed to admit I did not celebrate. I began battling against the most treacherous storm of my life during this season.
Sitting by my mom’s side in an unfamiliar cancer center, I heard words so foreign to me I had to have the doctor repeat them, and then spell them for me—Small Cell Carcinoma Lung Cancer. From the doctor’s grim expression and cautious words, my mom and I knew she had been handed her death sentence.
No matter, I armed myself with research and set out to stand by my mom through rounds of radiation, chemotherapy, blood transfusions, and a barrage of tests and paperwork.
I prayed without ceasing, “Please, God. Please heal Momma.”
While I begged Him, a story began to take root and thus became my creative outlet when the reality of losing my mom was too great of a burden for me to bear.
During endless treatments, I shared some of the story with my mom. She made me promise to share this story with the world. And I agreed that one day I would, just not then. For then our focus had to be her and her healing.
Spring 2013, God answered my prayer, but not how I had envisioned. He healed my mom’s soul and freed her of the abusive past and sinful life that held her captive for far too long. That healing was the most precious gift I had received since the birth of my children, for my mom had suffered greatly way before the cancer invaded.