by Leah Atwood
Clenching his fist, he pounded it against the steering wheel. Love shouldn’t be so difficult.
He drew in a calming breath and stared at the packet in his other hand. Despite the failings in his love life, he had work to do. He removed his keys and left his vehicle.
The sign on the door about closing down was gone. Good. They had faith in him to rescue their financials, and he was confident he had a solid plan. He walked through the door and went straight to the offices where he found Charles.
The middle-aged man looked up in surprise. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
“I’ve been working night and day.” He forced a smile to his mouth. It had once been his standard mode of operation, but this time, he’d only worked that hard to block out his pain. “If you have a few minutes, I’d love to share my findings with you.”
“That would be great. My wife is out with friends today, but she won’t mind not being here.” Charles pulled a second seat to the desk.
Sean sat down and opened to the second page where the charts and suggestions began. “My suggestions can be covered in two overarching themes, with more details under each of those. My first suggestion is to streamline your merchandise, especially in the gift shop. I’ve gone through your inventory reports for the last five years and made notes of which items cause the largest losses.”
Charles scanned several of the papers. “That sounds feasible. Do you think it will make that much of a difference?”
“Yes.” Sean flipped to the next page. “Along the same lines, I created a list of new products that I believe will sell well, based on your current sales. Many of them have low wholesale costs so it won’t tie up your inventory budget.”
A smile spread on Charles’s face. “This is very detailed. You even provided a list of suppliers and their prices.”
Sean laughed. “I can’t help it. Once I get started, I keep rolling.”
“What’s your second suggestion?”
“Switch to local suppliers.”
Charles scratched his chin. “But their costs are more expensive.”
“Upfront, yes.” Sean flipped ahead several pages in the presentation. “However, your transportation costs will be less in addition to your waste. If you get your perishable foods locally, that will give them a longer shelf life. I also took the liberty of contacting some of the local suppliers for quotes. When you’re ready, I’d be happy to contact whichever you decide to use and try to negotiate lower rates.”
He spent the next hour going over the plans in detail, answering any questions Charles had. When he finished, he breathed a sigh, relishing the satisfaction that came with a completed job. The best part about it was he hadn’t hurt anyone in the process, and Lord willing, the Lyons would keep their store open.
“I can’t thank you enough for doing this.” Charles stood from the desk. “I’ll be right back. Even though I can’t pay you right now, I found something last night that I’d forgotten I had. When I saw it, I thought it might be of interest to you and Sunny.”
Hearing his name coupled with hers hurt. No one knew he’d moved out of Crosswinds and was staying at Gramps’s cabin. He couldn’t leave the area yet—it felt too much like giving up.
He absently flipped through the presentation folder and an epiphany struck him. He didn’t have to stop doing what he loved. Why hadn’t he thought about it before? There were plenty of small businesses who could use his services. His rates would have to be lowered, but the smaller income would be worth the fulfillment he received for making a difference. He could build a clientele in the nearby areas, and work to expand. Travel would be at a minimum, and he’d be home most nights with his family.
What family? He had a wife who wanted an annulment.
Fight for her. Lay down your pride and tell her you love her. Ask her to be your wife forever.
Had he talked out loud and received a response? He looked around the room. The words had been so clear, he thought they’d come from someone in the room, but there was no one. His chest constricted. Was the answer that simple?
His pride wasn’t worth losing Sunny. He’d go to her and lay his heart on the line.
Itching to leave, he stood to his feet, but he had to wait for Charles to return. Eager to talk with Sunny, he sent her a text. Please go through. Reception was spotty at the store. Sometimes he got service there, most times he didn’t.
He tapped his foot, about to find Charles and tell him something had come up and he had to leave. Fortunately, it didn’t resort to that.
Carrying a photograph, he came back in the office. “It’s well documented that Crosswinds was an integral part of the Underground Railroad. Many people have posited that Harriet Tubman herself made stops there, but it’s never been confirmed.” He showed Sean the picture. “This has been in my family for generations. It’s a picture of Harriet Tubman, thought to be taken about a mile from Crosswinds. No one I know of knows the backstory of the picture, but it’s dated between eighteen fifty-three and eighteen fifty-five, which would put her near Crosswinds during her years as a conductor.”
“Wow.” In awe, Sean took the photograph using extreme care. I’m holding a piece of history. “Sunny would love this.”
“I want you to have it. Perhaps you could display it at Crosswinds.”
Sean shook his head slowly. “I can’t accept it. This is a family heirloom.”
“We want you to have it to show our appreciation.” Charles refused the photograph when Sean tried to give it back. “Besides, it should be on display where more people will see it. Think of the talking points it will create.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you. I can’t wait to show Sunny.” Plus, it gave him an excuse to go to Crosswinds other than to discuss their relationship. He still hadn’t heard back. Either the message hadn’t gone through or she was ignoring him. “I hate to cut out so quick, but I have to be somewhere. If you have any more questions about the numbers, give me a call.”
“I will. Thanks again.”
“You’re very welcome, and thank you for the photograph.”
He ran out to his SUV, not wasting time. Fortunately for him, police officers rarely monitored the back roads for speeding, or he surely would have been pulled over.
Crosswinds came into view, and the sense of home washed over him. He belonged here with Sunny. Relieved to see her car in its spot, he breathed a sigh of relief that she was home. Taking a minute to collect himself, he prayed for a positive outcome.
The last few weeks had been unseasonably dry, and a breeze blew dust around him. It didn’t distract from the beauty of Crosswinds nestled among the trees with bright leaves declaring spring had fully arrived. A robin flew across his path, confirming the season.
His steps slowed as he approached the house. He carried the photograph, but hadn’t prepared a speech, had no idea of what he would say. If he had to, he’d get down on his knees and beg her to give them a chance.
He rang the doorbell, not risking a knock that might be unheard. His pulse quickened as he waited and his throat constricted. The next few minutes meant everything to his future.
Finally, footsteps sounded inside.
Sunny opened the door, her face registering surprise. She wore a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a paint-stained t-shirt but was as beautiful as ever. “Sean. You’re here.”
“I sent you a text.” Lame, lame, lame. Seeing her for the first time in a week had apparently shut down his brain cells.
“I never got one. Did you get my voicemails?”
“Yes.”
Her lips quivered. “But you didn’t return them.”
“I didn’t want to talk about ending our marriage.”
“Why would you think that?”
A porch wasn’t the place to have this conversation. “Can we go inside?”
“Of course.” She moved aside, giving him passage. “Kitchen?”
“That’s fine.” He follo
wed her down the hallway, then took a seat at the breakfast nook table. He handed her the photo. “The Lyons gave this to us.”
Her mouth gaped when she saw the picture. “This is a photograph of Harriet Tubman. A real one, not a replica.”
“Charles said it was taken about a mile from here, which gives credence to the idea she might have brought slaves here along her route.”
“This is incredible.”
“I know. I didn’t feel right accepting it, but he insisted on giving it to us out of appreciation.”
She frowned and laid it on the table near him. “You should keep it. You’re the one who did all the work.”
This was his opportunity. “We should keep it.”
“How would that work?” Lines formed on her forehead. “You mean alternate who keeps it?”
He flexed his fingers under the table. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
Awareness lit in her eyes. “I got the present and card you left me. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I never got a chance to give you mine.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything.” He wondered what it had been.
“I wanted to.”
“Why did you ask me to leave?” He couldn’t beat around the bush anymore. He had to know.
“I never asked you to.” Her lips turned to a frown. “I said you were free to leave, and you made that decision.”
“That’s a matter of semantics. If you hadn’t wanted me to leave, you wouldn’t have said that.” He tried to keep accusation out of his tone. He didn’t want a battle, only clarification.
“I had to let you go so you could make the decision for yourself. Just that morning you’d talked about how excited you were to start consulting again, and not sure what direction you were headed.” She clasped her hands and rested them on the table. “Can’t you see? This is a different life than what you knew. I couldn’t ask you to stay in a place that would make you miserable for my sake.”
“Why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me that a week ago?” Goodness, they’d been so blind to each other.
“At the time, I thought it was the right thing to do.” She licked her lips. “It wasn’t until I’d read your card that I realized how big of a mistake I’d made.”
He lowered himself from the chair and kneeled in front of her, reaching for her hands and taking them in his. “I never wanted to leave, and I shouldn’t have, but pride got in my way when I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“What about your career?”
“I realized an important truth earlier. I can still do exactly what I love, but on a smaller scale.” He entwined his fingers with hers. “When I saw Charles’s face light up at my ideas for saving his store, I had more personal satisfaction than I’ve ever had with multi-million dollar deals. That’s what I want to do—work with the small companies and the local businesses struggling or just getting started.”
“That’s wonderful. Does that mean…” She trailed off, her eyes locking with his.
“It means I love you, and I want to live here with you, or wherever you want to be. Home is with you.”
“I love you, too. My heart physically hurt when you left. I prayed and prayed, and had that faith like a mustard seed that you’d come home.”
He stood up and pulled her to him. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” She rested her head against his chest.
They stayed like that for several minutes until she backed away. “I never gave you your gift. Stay here.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He stood in place, curious what made the gift so special she’d broken their embrace.
She returned a minute later with a manila envelope in hand. “Here, this is for you.
Taking it, he eyed the return address, noting it came from Mr. Marchland’s office. He folded up the tabs and lifted the flap, slid out a packet of folded papers. He scanned them, amazed at what he saw. “This is the deed to Crosswinds.”
“Yes. I had Mr. Marchland make an adjustment.”
“Both of our names are on it.” He continued staring at the paper with a full heart. Her gesture held more value for him than the house ever could.
“I wanted Crosswinds to be our home—in all ways.”
Setting aside the paper with one hand, he wound an arm around her waist with the other. “It is and will be. We’ll raise our children here, and welcome our grandchildren. We’ll tell them it’s history, and pick apples straight from the trees. Above all, it will be a home full of love.”
Epilogue
Two Years Later
Sunny adjusted the pillows propped behind her in bed.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Sean fluffed the pillows.
“I’m fine.” She bit back her smile. Who knew her husband was such a mother hen?
“I can ask everyone to reschedule if you’d rather rest?” Worry creased the corners of his eyes.
“No, they’re already on their way.” She swung her legs over the bed, feeling a little woozy. “I just need to move a little slower.”
“I’ll help you.” Sean slid an arm around her and helped her stand.
Frustrated, she gritted her teeth and focused all her energy on standing to her feet. “I didn’t think the recovery would be this rough.”
“It’s only been five days. The doctor said it can take six weeks to heal.”
A feeble cry interrupted them, and all her irritation at her physical state vanished. All the pain and recovery was worth it.
Sean assisted her to the rocking chair. “I’ll get him for you.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes followed him to the bassinet where their son lay. When Sean handed him to her, emotions formed a lump in her throat. After twenty hours of labor and an emergency C-section, she was incredibly thankful for her healthy son. She’d never tire of looking at his sweet face that reminded her so much of Sean.
The doorbell rang.
“That’s them. Are you sure you’re up for company?”
“Yes.”
She rocked her son while waiting for Sean to return. A few minutes later, he came in followed by her father, sister, brother-in-law, father-in-law and mother-in-law. All the people dearest to her were gathered in this room.
Her eyes welled up with gratefulness for the life and family she’d been blessed with.
Sean came to her side and squeezed her shoulder.
She gazed up at him, more in love than ever. Turning to face her family, she gently held the baby up to show him off. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet the newest member of our family, Sean Lucas Pearson.”
Note from Leah
Dear Readers,
Ending a series is always sad, but I’ve loved writing these modern day marriages of convenience, and I pray you’ve enjoyed reading them. Originally, I had a different direction for Lost In Love, but while writing Calling Love, I knew Sean had a story that needed to be told.
I mentioned a passage in the early part of the book about perseverance. That passage is Romans 5:3-5. “And not only that, but we also rejoice in our afflictions, because we know that affliction produces endurance, endurance produces proven character, and proven character produces hope. This hope will not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.”
For the past several months, I’ve been doing a study on these verses and it has been life changing. Whether you’re facing a broken relationship, poor health, or any multitude of problems we face on a regular day, God is our hope, and we can cling to that as we go through our sufferings.
Until next time,
Leah
P.S. Did you know there is a bonus Christmas novella for the Modern Conveniences series? Keep reading for an excerpt.
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Other Available Titles
Come to Me Series
Come to Me Alive
Come to Me Free
Come to Me Again
Come to Me Joyful (Bonus Novella)
Modern Conveniences Series
Love In a Fix
Calling Love
Lost in Love
Waiting on Love (Bonus Novella)
Love at the Lake
Not This Time
Historical Romances
Brides of Weatherton Novellas
After the Rain
Fire and Ice
Winds of Change
Whiter than Snow
Dancing on Dew
Texas Wildflowers Novelette Series
Free to Love
Free to Heal
Free to Protect
Free to Serve
Free to Roam
Free to Forgive
Mail-Order Short Stories and Novelettes
The Ultimatum Bride
A Man to Be Proud Of
Their First Noelle
The Not Quite Mail-Order Bride
The Mail-Order Bride’s Quilt
Riches of the Heart
Unlikely Substitute
The Most Wonderful Bride of the Year
Waiting On Love Excerpt
Waiting on Love, Available HERE
Scott Lamar checked his phone for messages before going into the house. He’d expected his mom to call again, trying for the umpteenth time to talk him out of his plan. No matter how many times she tried to change his mind, he couldn’t be swayed. He’d prayed about it, had peace about his decision, and whatever came next.
Was it gutsy? Absolutely.
Was he crazy? Some could make a case for it.
Was he determined? With every fiber of his being.
Every man faced a time in his life when he had to accept the cold hard facts of life and accept responsibility for his actions. In other words, he had to man up.