One and Done (Red River Romance Book 3)

by Caryl McAdoo

  “Maybe not.”

  More puzzlement.

  “PMS.”

  He still looked puzzled. “Really? Poor uninformed male. You really weren’t around a lot of women in your life, were you?”

  He shook his head

  “Acronym for pre-menstrual-syndrome. A lady’s chemicals go nuts right before, and modern medicine has handed us the absolute right to be horrible—mean and crazy—on a silver platter.”

  “Sounds ominous. But I have a secret weapon.”

  Her turn to be puzzled.

  He grinned. “Prayer. And besides.” He patted her hand. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but expecting mothers don’t have those chemical imbalances, right?”

  “Yes, that’s right, but I’m not an expectant mama yet, and I’ve dutifully warned you. So if you don’t take care of that little detail, you can’t blame me should I go ballistic on you.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “You could ask my daddy. But then, maybe, it won’t be so bad since I’ve stopped drinking. That’s how he finally got me settled down a little. He kept wine in the fridge for that time of the month.”

  Gij busted out laughing. “He fed you wine when you were a teenager?” He shook his head, still smiling. “If it helps, why quit now?”

  She shrugged. “Seemed like the thing to do. I guess you could say it’s been a problem in the past, so…” She raised her brows. “You don’t drink, so why should I?”

  “I like that.” He turned his Kindle toward her. “Check this out. We just bought it.”

  She studied the little screen. A monster yellow tractor machine of some sort, but it appeared much bigger than any tractor she’d ever seen. “Why’d we do that?”

  He leaned in close. “It’s a uniloader, for digging out gold from our mine.”

  “We have a gold mine?”

  He nodded. “On Troublesome Creek in the Sawtooth Mountains.”

  “Okay. Is that in Africa?”

  “No, in Alaska. We need to fly up right after the wedding, and put the camp to bed until next year.”

  “I thought you said Pappaw said we had to go to Africa.”

  “No, he said to go help Jim.”

  “So what does that mean?”

  “Right now, Jim’s in Fairbanks. We’ll meet up with him there.”

  “Oh.” She popped up and stared out the patio doors.

  “Samantha? Something wrong?”

  The image of her backpacking barefoot across the dark continent vanished. An Alaskan gold mine. What else didn’t she know?

  How little she knew about the man she was to marry crashed down on her, filled her with a sudden doubt—and dread. But why? She always wanted to go check out the frozen north.

  “So.” Without turning, she sighed and willed her insides to settle. “How long have we had this gold mine?”

  “Pappaw wanted to go, so we went. I was… maybe twenty-five the first time. So? What? Eight years I’ve had it now. It’s only been ours since the minute I laid eyes on you at the Hyatt in Mexico City.”

  She floated toward him and hugged his neck from behind, kissing his hair. “You always know the exact perfect thing to say, Johnson. I love you with my whole heart.”

  “You can’t know how that thrills my soul, Samantha Danielle.” He reached back and up and caressed her head. “Anyway, that first trip, we met Jim, and the next thing I knew, we’re dredging out some really nice nuggets along with plenty of dust. It’s a hoot. We’d go every year right before the World Series of Poker, but then Pappaw died, and I started playing ball again. You can only dig through the summer. The ground’s frozen the rest of the time. That’s when Jim goes to Africa.”

  “Cool. You have no idea what a relief that is.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Flying missionaries around. I don’t know what I was expecting, but looks to me like a life with you promises to be one adventure after another.” She patted his head. “I do.” And kissed his hair again. “Love you.”

  “I love you, too.” He pulled her around and stared into her eyes. His grin vanished. “You are getting it sooo –”

  “You have no idea.” She waved him off. “How utterly fantastic it’s going to be.”

  “You keep saying that, but I do know. I have a great imagination.”

  She wanted to assure him otherwise, but maybe she didn’t know how good loving was going to be with him. All she’d known was sleazy, guilt-ridden sex.

  “You know, if we keep talking about it…” She grimaced. Hadn’t understood at all before, but Gij absolutely knew what he was talking about, she could comprehend it now. Waiting. Doing it God’s way. Yes, definitely best, especially now.

  He nodded. “You’re right. So what do we need to do today?”

  She laughed. “I have lists of the lists of… In other words, I have no idea. Call the wedding planner?”

  “How’s she working out?”

  “Oh Gij, the woman is phenomenal.”

  “Good.”

  “The mothers are a great help making decisions, but that lady makes things happen!”

  “I told the team yesterday, don’t know how many are coming, but the travel secretary said he’d get me their addresses so we can send them invitations.”

  “Excellent.”

  Cate joined them first, and Gij went to cooking. Soon the planning began again, then that night’s game interrupted her again. Hot Fudge, the Rangers put the broom to the pesky Red Sox, and Gij didn’t have to fire a shot in anger, or whatever emotion he used when he pitched.

  Awesome, a whole week off to get ready. She might make it after all, especially since April volunteered to help. But wasn’t that what a maid of honor did?

  CHAPTER

  thirty-seven

  Sammi Dan slipped into her seat at the breakfast table on Gij’s right. He smiled at her then folded his lap top shut. A week, seven whole days, and just like some Rube Goldberg contraption, the wedding plans were falling into place.

  “I’m blessed.” She reached out and put her hand over his. “That’s the only word that fits. I’ve been given so much. It simply amazes me that He’s blessing me, that He loves me. And if that wasn’t enough, we’ve made it to the World Series, and you’re opening day pitcher.” Tears welled; the whole enchilada seemed almost more than she could bear. She blinked them away then found her voice again. “Please don’t ever wake me up.”

  He chuckled. “It isn’t a dream, it’s real.” He slid a sealed envelope toward her. “Here, hold onto this.”

  She picked it up. On the front, in a rather large script, someone had scrawled ‘Miss Davenport, my favorite weather girl.’

  Beneath that, ‘Please don’t open until the morning after WS game seven’ appeared in neater print letters. It didn’t look like Gij’s handwriting. “What’s this, do you know? Where’d it come from?” She held it up to the light.

  “Pappaw. He gave that to me the day before he died.”

  Wow. She found it difficult to swallow. Goose flesh rose on her arms and legs. She finally got the dry wad in her throat to move down “Wow. Really?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Wow. Do you know what it says?”

  “No, I’d been napping, and when I woke up, he had it.”

  “So did you get one, too?”

  “Nope.”

  She turned it over. “Wow.” The blank backside didn’t make the envelope any easier to believe. “Well, Mr. Johnson, you’re a better man than even I thought. I don’t think I could have stood not opening this for what?” She counted on her fingers. “Fifteen months, right?”

  “I suppose, but it wasn’t really hard. I put it in the Bible I was using then. Guess after the funeral, I went back to Vegas to get what I wanted from our condo there, and when I came back, I had my favorite one.” He shrugged. “I’d actually forgotten about it until this morning.”

  “Okay, that’s good to know. I, on the other hand, can absolutely not stand havi
ng a gift and not being allowed to open it. I guarantee the wait is going to drive me bonkers.” She patted his hand. “So, anyway, do you suppose I could get a little sneak peek today?”

  “He wrote it to you. It’s your letter, do what you want. But if it was me, I’d honor his request and wait. Isn’t that much longer.” He laughed a little. “Isn’t that long now. I have faith in you.”

  “Coconuts, man, you are definitely big into waiting, aren’t you?”

  He smiled. “No way. I hate not knowing as much as the next guy, but look what it’s gotten me.” He lifted her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed her fingers.

  She leaned forward and stared at him. How was it that she ever deserved such a man? The fact that he loved her overwhelmed her senses at times. But was he talking about her?

  Exactly what did he mean? “Oh, you do? So elaborate. Tell me what waiting’s gotten you.”

  “You. Baseball. If I’d’ve given in, there’s not a chance that we’d be where we are now.”

  Flashes of how things might have been had he not been so adamant about being obedient to God and His Word, and it totally dawned on her that she would still be lost and blind and unaware of God’s love and forgiveness.

  Again, the truth inundated her heart, her very soul, and seeped into every crevice of her being. Because he waited, she’d received salvation. She wanted to speak. It seemed really hard, so she only nodded.

  “Pappaw told me to stay strong, not to be like Samson, but keep myself pure and wait on you.”

  The tears wouldn’t be blinked away. Instead they streamed down her cheeks. She slid out of her seat and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Thank you. Thank you for waiting, for being strong.” She laid her cheek on the top of his head. “I was so bad tempting you like I did. Will you forgive me?”

  He scooted his chair out, swung her around into his lap, and put his forehead to hers. “Yes, of course I will. Bless the Lord, couldn’t have done it without Him. His mercy endures forever.”

  Everything inside her screamed to kiss him. She wanted to so badly that it literally hurt, but some of His strength flowed in. “I love you, George Herman Walter Johnson. With all of my heart and every fiber of my being, I love, love, love you!”

  He stared into her eyes. “And I feel the same. Isn’t life going to be awesome now that we’ve found each other?”

  She opened her peepers and sniffled. He could have all of her, anytime he wanted. There wasn’t anything she’d ever hold back from him, nothing. Not ever, never. She belonged to him, was totally his. She remembered the verse she’d read the night before. In the Song of Solomon, what an awesome love story. I am my beloved’s.

  He kissed her lightly on her lips then cuddled her to his chest. “You better get up.”

  And he is mine. “I don’t want to.”

  “I know. I don’t want you to either, but we don’t want to be a bad example for your dad and Cate.”

  She stood and smiled. “You’re so funny.” Making a show of it, she straightened her shoulders trying to get right, then stuck out her tongue. “And mean!”

  He grinned and shook his head then pointed to her letter. “Want me to hold onto that for you?”

  She shook her head. “No, I can wait. I’ll be good.”

  Good? That word couldn’t do her justice. Not with so many more Gij wanted to use to describe her, say to her, but they’d all have to wait. The day belonged to the Rangers. Instead of pitching woo to his soon-to-be wife, he needed to get his mind right.

  Stop thinking about his wedding night. Concentrate on the Dodgers.

  “Hey.”

  He looked up. “Hey what?”

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, of course not. Why would you ask?”

  “Well, I said I’d be good, and you never responded, just quit talking. And that look you got in your eye.” She smiled and widened hers as big as she could then cleared her throat. “Like you might want to kill someone. Or worse. Not me, right?”

  He grinned. “Of course not. Sorry. I was thinking about the Dodgers.”

  “Oh, okay. You’re only getting your game face on then.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Well, before you do that, there are some issues we need to discuss if you can spare the time.”

  Even though he couldn’t and didn’t want to, he nodded. Then naturally, she plunged him neck deep into girly-girl stuff. He could care less about all of it. Whatever she wanted, whatever she chose would be fine with him. Why did she think it necessary to tell him all that stuff.

  The more she talked, the less he wanted to listen. He didn’t want to hear any of it, much less decide what kind of material the napkins should be, or whether or not they needed to be embossed.

  Good grief, Lord, save me.

  After way more, so many unimportant words, he threw both hands up. “I don’t care. Whatever you want. Kool-aid and cupcakes’ll be fine by me.” Her face fell, as did her shoulders. He leaned in close. “I’m only concerned about what happens after the reception.”

  That brightened her expression back up. She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows. “So, if I say you said, that’s okay? I have your permission? Because I can use –”

  Another hand went up, only one that time though. “I take it there’s several tie votes you need me to break?”

  She nodded.

  “Fine, you tell me the ones you like, and I’ll say yes, but do it quick before my eyes glaze over, and I miss tonight’s game.”

  She did, hitting speeds upwards to a hundred ten at times. If he could only throw as fast as she could talk. He did his best to keep up and nod, so she wouldn’t have to lie to her mother or April or the wedding planner or Cate or whoever was stupid enough to want anything different than the bride.

  Finally she stopped. “When do we need to leave for the ballpark?”

  He glanced at the kitchen clock. “When’s everyone getting here?”

  “April should’ve been here before now. Dad and Cate aren’t coming until right before the game. They may meet us there, and Mom and Fred are bringing lunch.”

  “Oh, I thought we were going out.”

  “Don’t have time. Too much to do. So back to my question. When do we need to leave?”

  “Jeff said to be there by three, but I’d like to get there earlier than that.”

  “Okay, how does leaving at one sound? Or two?”

  “One-thirty works.”

  April showed, and took Samantha Danielle off his hands. Praise the Lord for her co-conspirator. He retreated to his room, and soon enough had the Dodgers’ last game playing on his desktop.

  After watching that one, and the three before it, a realization hit him. They were doing the same thing he was. He retrieved his cell and punched up Carlos’ number.

  “You got me, talk.”

  Gij smiled at his catcher then remembered he wasn’t on video. “Hey, what time you getting to the park?”

  “I don’t know. You need something?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there by two.”

  “Sure, see you then. How’s the arm? You didn’t sleep wrong on it or anything?”

  “Naw, I’m good.”

  “Great, see you then.”

  Sammi Dan focused on the wedding plans, then once at the ballpark, on the handouts and formulating all the interviews. But still, always in the back of her mind, Pappaw’s letter kept popping up vying for attention. Why couldn’t Gij have found it until a week from tomorrow? She hated waiting, but okay, fine.

  Didn’t she read the other night that all things worked together for her good? But how could torture do her any good? Then maybe that was the whole point. She needed to grow up and be a big girl, a good girl, too.

  Isn’t that what she told Gij? And no, she never liked waiting, ever since she could remember, but so what? If she had to, she could. She would.

  Good thing she’d put Pappaw’s letter in her Bible and not her purse though
. She grinned at herself and opened the next scouting report. Had the envelope been with her at that moment, she might have sworn off growing up one more day.

  Oh, the pomp and ceremony. She adored it. Baseball was so much fun, but the World Series definitely took the cake. A color guard preceded that Forte quartet singing the national anthem. It had never sounded so good, gave her goose flesh again.

  Why did everything seem to be so much better than ever before? It had to do with her loving God and Him loving her.

  All the players stood along the foul lines on their respective sides. Okay already, enough. Play ball. Then real soon, almost as though Blue read her mind, he hollered the exact same thing.

  Nine Dodgers came and went, perfect through three innings. April asked for an interview with Gij, but as usual the scaredy-cat, superstitious Rangers refused. Sammi Dan didn’t want to settle.

  Maybe he’d come over on his own. Why hadn’t she prearranged it? Oh yeah, she remembered. She’d been cramming six months’ worth of wedding plans into two weeks.

  Perhaps Gij forgetting about playing ball after the Series would be for the best. Alaska in the fall, what would it be like? As the new Mis’ess George Herman Walter Johnson, she imagined the most awesome place on the face of the earth. Oh, she could hardly bear waiting. Her life would be so different, so amazing.

  The crowd’s roar brought her back to the game and her husband-to-be’s latest accomplishments. The World Series, Gij pitching, and she was daydreaming? The third of three more Dodgers crawled back to the visitors’ dugout.

  Her man left the mound to deafening cheers.

  Silly Rangers did the same.

  Three up, three down. What’s was up with these guys? She wanted some support for her fellow, give him a little breathing room.

  Six more, up and down, three per side.

  Okay, top of sixth and nothing to nothing. “Mow ’em down, Gij! We’ll get you a run any minute now.”

  First batter hacked at a couple, but watched four and trotted to first. What was with Johnson? When would he ever stop nibbling the corners?