“Good evening, ma’am,” Dorothy paused at the open wooden door leading into the inside vestibule. “I didn’t expect you at church this early.”
“Haven’t you heard?”
Dorothy scoured her thoughts. “Heard what?”
“The wedding is off.” Two bright flushes of red heightened Mrs. Addyson’s rouged cheeks. “Alice texted your brother a few minutes ago and broke up with him. She’s been seeing another fella at the hospital.”
Dorothy set down her briefcase and purse and pulled out her phone. “Nicholas will be devastated.” She stared down at her hands, then managed to return Mrs. Addyson’s gaze. “Where is he?”
“He’s still at his apartment. Most likely he’s hurt and embarrassed.”
“So there’s no wedding?” Dorothy gazed into the church. The pews had been simply decorated with white ribbons. Colorful potted plants sat beneath the church’s stained-glass windows.
“It’s sad. Fortunately, there aren’t a lot of vendors to be paid. Nicholas’ friends were all contributing a covered dish for the church reception.”
“Do they know?” Dorothy absently looked up from her phone. She’d texted her brother and hadn’t received a response.
“I’ve notified everyone.” Mrs. Addyson gave Dorothy a penetrating stare. “And I know your Ryan flew to Italy.”
“He’s not my Ryan,” Dorothy said quietly. “With his talent, he belongs to the world.”
“I saw the way he looked at you in the restaurant. I remember the way he looked at you when you two were young.” She took Dorothy’s hand. “He’ll always find his way back to you.”
Dorothy’s gaze flew to Mrs. Addyson, then slid downward. She shook her head, put her phone away and focused on the church steps. A mixture of loneliness and dejection tore through her—gray and dull—but the delicate hope Mrs. Addyson offered bloomed like a bouquet of colorful flowers.
“Can you wait here at the church until the wedding cake is delivered?” Mrs. Addyson let go of Dorothy’s hand and pulled on her proper white gloves. “My Chrysler is parked around the corner and I’d like to get home before dark. The key-holder will lock up the church later this evening.”
“What will I do with an entire wedding cake?”
“Take it back to the Cherish Hills Inn, I suppose. The bakery in town hired a talented new baker. He’s a bit temperamental, which is why he might be late.”
“Another artist,” Dorothy murmured.
“Creative people are complex and sensitive.” Mrs. Addyson paused, her anxious gaze riveted on Dorothy. “I can come by tomorrow and share a piece of wedding cake with you. The innkeeper told me you’ve decided to make your home in Cherish. Welcome back.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I’m buying Musically Yours.”
“That’s as fine a bit of news as cream gravy.” Mrs. Addyson beamed knowingly. “Nothing stays secret in a town this size for long, you know.” With a nod of her elegantly coiffed gray hair, she bade Dorothy a good evening and made her way down the steps. Soon, walking quickly in her sturdy leather pumps, she disappeared around the corner.
Dorothy seated herself on the church’s top step and placed her purse and briefcase beside her. She checked her cell phone, noting her brother still hadn’t answered her texts. She’d decided to give him room to come to terms with Alice’s actions. Tomorrow if he wanted to talk, she’d listen, digest, reflect and pray with him.
Dusk came sooner than expected, and the roads of Cherish, lit by corner streetlights, took on streaks of silver and gray. Tree branches swayed in wafts of cool air, and a flash of a white tail signaled the bob of a shy rabbit searching for cover. Cars hummed the streets, an intermittent flow of red and white lights.
After thirty minutes passed with no sign of a wedding cake delivery, Dorothy gathered her belongings and stood. In the morning she’d extend her apologies to the bakery and Mrs. Addyson, for there was little use in waiting for a cake no one would be eating, anyway.
A dark sedan pulled to the curb behind her Ford rental.
Dorothy hurried down the church steps. “Perfect timing!” she called as a man emerged.
He didn’t carry a wedding cake. And the sedan tore away from the curb and headed down the street.
She hesitated, debating, smiling uncertainly. Surely the temperamental baker hadn’t forgotten to bring his own cake.
Except this tall, impressive man wasn’t the baker. This man, who was striding toward her clutching a handful of bluebonnets and looking like a broad-shouldered handsome opera singer, was wearing a polo shirt and a beige suit jacket. And he was heartbreakingly familiar.
“Ryan.” Her briefcase and purse slid from her grasp. She stopped at the bottom of the steps. “What … what are you doing here?”
“I found my purpose,” he said solemnly.
“Purpose?” Her heartbeat raced. A breath wouldn’t come. “Where? In Italy?”
“I found my purpose right here in my hometown.”
Disoriented by his reply, she avoided eye contact. “Your audition … did you audition for Don Carlos?”
“Yes.” He closed the distance and stopped within an inch of her. “My agent arranged the audition as soon as I arrived in Italy.”
“So why aren’t you …” She wasn’t easily pacified and tried again. “So when will you hear how you did?”
“I’ve already heard.”
“And?”
He drew a long breath and slowly expelled it. “I got the role.”
She should congratulate him. And she would as soon as she had the ability to think coherently. “Ryan, I … I’ll watch your performances if they’re televised here in the states. I’ll applaud you along with the rest of your—”
“I turned it down.”
“You what?”
“I turned the role down. After my audition I was offered a contract. I thanked my agent and the casting directors, turned around and booked the next flight back to Atlanta.”
Her body tensed. Her eyes widened. “I …I don’t understand.”
He handed her the bouquet of the delicate, fragrant bluebonnets, then looked around, momentarily diverted. “Where is everyone?”
“The wedding was called off. Long story.” She accepted the flowers and sniffed appreciatively, the fragrance filling the air with a sweet airy scent. “Thank you. Where did you get these?”
“There’s an open stream near an abandoned railway line a few blocks from here. You’ve pointed out frequently that bluebonnets are your favorite, so I picked a bouquet for you.”
She fingered the lovely blooms, as delicate as boomtown silk. No store-bought flowers from him. These delicate blue flowers were heartfelt and strong and memorable.
“I didn’t expect you to remember that.”
“I remember everything about you.” The earnestness in Ryan’s brown eyes brought a rush of heat to her cheeks. “And now I need to tell you something, Dorothy.”
She scanned his face. He was here, but he’d be leaving to go somewhere else, somewhere with brighter and better opportunities.
“What is it?” she asked warily.
“Your faith pushed me toward honesty.”
“Ryan, you’ve always been honest—”
“No, not with myself.” His gaze never left hers. They were so close although he made no move to touch her. “Seeing you in a crisis made me take a clear-eyed view of my life. You faced your weaknesses, and your faith in God never wavered. You confronted your failings head-on. I didn’t. After my father’s suicide I buried my emotions—the anger, the bitterness, the grief—beneath busyness, believing if I could land at the top, I would’ve achieved my goals.”
“You have. You’re a—”
“I haven’t,” he interrupted. “However, on the plane trip to Italy, I dug deeper inside and honestly challenged myself. I’d never done that before.”
She considered him, felt the tears standing in her eyes. “And what did you discover?”
Gently, he traced a
finger along her cheek. “I found it’s much easier to diagnose other people’s problems rather than your own. I recognized you were in crisis. What I refused to acknowledge was that I was too.”
Puzzled, she looked away. “I don’t understand.”
“When I saw you again that first day in the choir loft, I almost couldn’t breathe. You were barefoot, all curled up on that chair with your legs tucked beneath you, and you were as adorable as a calico kitten.”
She leaned back and attempted to speak. No words came.
He placed the flowers on the ground and gazed into her eyes. “You’d grown into the beautiful woman I’d always admired from a distance.” He enfolded her into his arms, holding her against his cotton polo shirt. His heart beat solid and reassuring.
“When I was a teenager,” she whispered unsteadily against his chest, “I made excuses to be near you. I had butterflies in my stomach every time you were around.”
He tipped up her chin. “And now?”
“And now I want to be around you more than ever.”
“I thought about you a lot those past ten years.” He braced his hands on her shoulders. “Sometimes bits and pieces, along with remembrances of my father—his changes of mood, his agitation. Memories of Cherish, both good and bad, flickered and faded. Seeing you again I realized the good memories had one thing in common.”
She attempted a trembly question and swallowed.
“And that one thing was you.” His lips moved closer to hers. “Every good memory had you right in the middle of it.”
He pressed her closer and her fingers locked around his nape. His lips found hers and he kissed her with a hard, insistent urgency. She returned the kiss with the same earnestness, glorying in the sensation of his mouth, sending spirals of desire clear down to her toes. When the kiss ended, he embraced her face in his hands. Lovingly, his thumbs stroked her cheeks.
Stars twinkled like vibrant crystals in the night sky. The air had turned cooler. Crickets chirped, mingling with a whip-poor-will’s chants. Somewhere in the distance, bullfrogs croaked. The sounds of spring, a spiritual promise of renewal, a symbol of new life. Here in Cherish, with Ryan’s arms around her, the seeds of growth held promise.
Dorothy leaned her head back and gazed at his full, firm mouth, extending a not-so-subtle invitation to kiss her again.
“If you stare at me like that, I won’t be able to finish, and I have more to say.” He pressed a kiss on her temple, then murmured against her hair. “I didn’t return to Cherish for you. I returned for your brother’s wedding.”
She gave a rueful sigh and shook her head. “All for naught.”
His eyebrows rose. “Was it? Your brother’s wedding being canceled makes me realize more than ever that we were both in the right place at the right time.” He paused for an interval of several seconds. “Then when I left for Italy, I told myself I had enjoyed our time together and rationalized it was enough.”
She stared up at him. “Was it enough?”
“It wasn’t enough for me.” His gaze was solid and steady. “I love you, Dorothy Thompson. Always have, always will. I’m here because I want you to marry me.”
She gaped in speechless joy. She’d racked her brain, trying to think of what she might’ve done differently to encourage Ryan to stay. Perhaps that day in the inn’s kitchen she could have said something, talked with him, implored him. Instead, she’d walked out of the kitchen and left him alone.
And all along, God had planned this reunion. His timing was perfect.
“What about your career?” she asked.
“My career is music. I’ll teach vocal lessons and help you open the music conservatory. Together, we’ll build Musically Yours back into one of the finest music stores in South Carolina.”
“What you’re saying … the store … the conservatory … you living in Cherish … I don’t know how to respond.”
“I love you back is a good beginning.”
“Ryan Edwards, I love you back.” She stared up into his earnest expression. “What I have to adjust to is the fact we’re really going to get married.”
“It’s easy. Just say yes.”
“Marriage is serious.”
He laid both hands on her shoulders. “And I couldn’t be more serious.”
She shook her head. She needed some place to think. Or did she? Gazing into the face of the man she loved, only one reply formed on her lips.
“Yes.”
“Do you mean it?” he persisted.
“I do.” Yearning for Ryan’s lips on hers, she stood on her toes and slid her arms around his shoulders.
Their hearts now beat in a skillful cadence because God proved that His timing is always perfect.
THE END
A Note From The Author
Thank you for reading A Love Song To Cherish. I hope you enjoyed your visit to the tiny town of Cherish, South Carolina, and the new music store, Musically Yours.
And, I hope you loved reading about Ryan and Dorothy as much as I loved writing them.
*Author’s Note: A Love Song To Cherish was previously published as Love’s Sweet Cadence as part of the First Street Church Kindle Worlds. It has been lightly revised.
Please help other people find A Love Song To Cherish by writing a review. Look for a continuation of this story in A Christmas To Cherish, featuring Dorothy’s brother, Nicholas, and her friend, Emmanuelle, with other Christian contemporary romance books in this series to follow.
Many of my titles are also available in paperback and audio books.
Happy Reading and Listening!
Dorothy’s Pecan Pie Recipe
Prep time: 20 minutes
Bake 1 hour
Ingredients
1/2 cup sugar
3 tablespoons flour
1 cup light corn syrup
1 cup dark corn syrup
3 eggs
1 teaspoon white vinegar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup chopped pecans
Pastry for a single-crust pie
Directions
1. In small bowl, whisk sugar, flour, corn syrups, eggs, vinegar and vanilla. Stir in pecans. Pour into pastry shell and place foil around edges.
2. Bake at 350° for 35 minutes. Remove foil; bake 25-30 minutes longer.
Yields 8 servings.
Acknowledgments
To my patient husband, Dave, and our three wonderful children.
About the Author
Josie Riviera is a USA TODAY bestselling author of contemporary, inspirational, and historical sweet romances that read like Hallmark movies. She lives in the Charlotte, NC, area with her wonderfully supportive husband. They share their home with an adorable shih tzu, who constantly needs grooming, and live in an old house forever needing renovations.
Have you ever tried something you were afraid to try because it mattered so much to you? I did, when I started writing. Take the chance, everyone, and just do something you love.
Become a member of my Read and Review VIP Facebook group for exclusive giveaways and ARCs.
To connect with Josie, visit her webpage and subscribe to her newsletter. As a thank-you, she’ll send you a free sweet romance novella delivered directly to your inbox.
[email protected]
josieriviera.com
Also by Josie Riviera
Oh Danny Boy
I Love You More
A Snowy White Christmas
Candleglow and Mistletoe
A Portuguese Christmas
Holiday Hearts Box Set
Seeking Catherine
Seeking Fortune
Seeking Patience
The Seeking Series Box Set
Maeve
1-800-CUPID
A Christmas To Cherish
Romance Stories To Cherish
Excerpt from A Christmas To Cherish
CHAPTER ONE
Emmanuelle Sumter surveyed the picturesque town of Cherish, South Carolina, brightl
y lit in crimson and green holiday decor. The town looked as if it had emerged from a Christmas card. Glittering frost framed bare tree branches, and local artists were setting up their canvases for an art walk. The coldness in the air was soundless and serene, comforting in its own way.
She exited the Cherish Central train station, zippered her cobalt-blue puffer coat to her chin, and stepped onto the curb.
Who believed an actual, breathing town could resemble a holiday snow globe?
Evidently, her friend Dorothy did, considering her enthusiasm whenever she described her idyllic South Carolina town.
Emmanuelle stood on the curb and shoved her hands in her pockets. A cold December gust slapped her cheeks, sharp streams of frigid air. She swept a wisp of hair from her cheek and searched for Nicholas, Dorothy’s older brother. He was supposed to pick her up. People were shouting greetings, kissing, cooing over babies. A teeming mass of humanity.
But no Nicholas.
A taxi’s horn spiked. Emmanuelle jumped, an involuntary nervous reaction.
Take a deep breath. Relax. Dorothy had assured her Cherish was a safe haven, a harbor in a storm.
Repeating her mantra, Emmanuelle hailed the black-bearded taxi driver parked at the curb. She still didn’t see any sign of Nicholas, so she’d take the cab.
She handed the driver her suitcase, then slid into the backseat and gave the address of Dorothy’s music store, Musically Yours.
They passed charming shops decorated in glittering lights, and a sign advertising a historic home tour. A few minutes later, the driver pointed at the Musically Yours lighted outdoor sign and idled at the corner of Myrtle and Magnolia Streets.
“The store’s two hoots and a holler away, ma’am.” He hoisted her suitcase from the trunk and set it on the sidewalk. “We’ve reached your destination.”
A Love Song To Cherish: A Sweet and Wholesome Christian Novella (Cherish Series Book 1) Page 6