“A few hours ago. Then he said he had to go to the bank, then to the Sea Dawg to meet some of the guys for lunch. But you know your dad. Nobody makes his little girl cry.” Her mother smiled, then rested her chin on her hand. “It’s going to work out. I know it.”
Olivia shifted from her knees and sat cross-legged on the living room floor. “I saw the Isabella Rose in the harbor. She looks awful. I don’t see how he’ll get her fit to ship out with again.”
“I sure hope your dad didn’t lose his temper.”
“You don’t think?” Olivia’s heart started to pound faster. “I’ve got to go apologize. Who knows what Dad’s gone and said to Jonathan.”
She left her father’s present half-wrapped on the floor and went straight to the hospital. She found Jonathan’s room empty.
A nurse met her in the doorway. “He’s been discharged home. Against doctor’s orders…”
“Thanks.” Olivia dashed for the elevator.
What had her father said? Or worse, done? She needed to face Jonathan, to explain she hadn’t sent her father to talk to him.
She parked at Jonathan’s apartment and bounded up the porch stairs.
Jonathan answered the door. “Hi…” He looked less pale than she remembered and he’d shaved. One arm was in a sling and his head was bandaged. It was all she could do to keep from rushing to him.
“Please don’t send me away.” Olivia could barely breathe. “I need to explain. My dad…”
A smile covered his face, the grin she’d never grow tired of seeing. “You don’t have to explain. And I’m not letting you get away. Not if I can help it.” He reached for her with his free hand and pulled her inside the warm apartment.
“It all came down to trust.” Olivia let him lead her into his living room, where he pulled her down to sit next to him on the couch. “I didn’t trust God, not really. I thought I could run my life, especially if it seemed like God wasn’t cooperating. Or if I got disappointed.”
Jonathan wore an amused expression on his face, but said nothing.
She let herself continue. “The other night out at the harbor, I realized it’s God’s love that carries us through everything. He cares for you so much more than I could. And I’ve been wrong, trying to do His job for Him. I mean—”
He put a finger on her lips.
“What?” she mumbled.
“Shh, you talk too much.” Then he kissed her until she was breathless and forgot what she’d been trying to explain.
“It’s my turn now.” Jonathan kissed the end of her nose, and she attempted not to giggle, her mind still trying to comprehend what had happened. “I was full of pride, thinking I had nothing to offer you. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I have nothing right now. Except this.” He fished a velvet box from under the cushion.
“What?” she repeated, realizing what he was showing her. When did he get a ring?
“My parents gave it to me. It’s a family ring they’ve had in a safe-deposit box until the right time.” The antique setting displayed a stunning diamond that winked at her as if it knew a secret. Olivia let her mouth hang open while Jonathan slid the ring onto her finger. “Marry me.”
Olivia nodded. “Of course I will.” She touched his face, relishing the thought of waking up with him every morning, of the children to come, of the life that lay ahead. “I love you.”
He pulled her close and kissed her again.
Epilogue
The warm June wind teased the edges of Olivia’s veil. She reached a hand up to pull it down. Her other hand clutched her bouquet and was tucked around her father’s arm as they walked along the path toward the ocean. Violin and cello mingled with the sounds of the surf.
“Did I tell you you’re beautiful?”
“No, Dad.”
“Well, you are. You remind me of my Lindy.” He raised her veil and kissed her cheek.
The leftover chill from the night before lingered in the sand that sifted between Olivia’s bare feet, but it didn’t matter to her. Jonathan waited for her on “their” beach, along with friends and family who’d come to witness their vows. Over the winter months that followed Jonathan’s recovery, they had spent many hours walking the beach, and decided to share the spot of beauty with their wedding guests.
Olivia’s throat ached when they reached the edge of the dunes, and she caught sight of the display before them. Rows of white chairs faced the water, a white runner dividing them like an aisle. At the very end stood Jonathan, barefooted but in a tuxedo.
Her mother and Maggie stood, holding bouquets of lilies, across from Todd and Jeremy. Maggie held Lydia on one hip.
Then after the glorious music, her father entrusted her to Jonathan’s care. She would love this man all her days. Whatever came their way, the love of their Heavenly Father would sustain them.
After uttering the sweet sacred words that bound them together, Jonathan and Olivia shared a kiss. Then the icy water swirled over her toes, and Olivia squealed, gathering her skirts and pulling Jonathan away from the water.
She saw her parents laughing, her mother snapping pictures. The candid shots would be a treasured part of their album.
Jonathan kissed Olivia again. “I can’t wait to get you to the cottage in Maine.”
Belinda laid a hand on Olivia’s arm. “Wait. You remember I said I’d get permission from the landowner to have the ceremony here?”
Olivia nodded. She’d appreciated her mother’s help with the wedding without too much of a power struggle between them.
“Well, I did better than that.” She pressed an envelope into Olivia’s hands. “Before you say anything, just consider this a wedding gift. And more birthday and Christmas gifts and ‘I love you’ gifts than I want to count.”
“Mom…” Olivia handed her bouquet to Jonathan and opened the envelope. It was a deed for two acres of shoreline property.
“Please. You two can have fun planning your house and building it here. You won’t be in Frances O’Leary’s apartment forever.” Her mother blinked and dabbed at her eyes. “Oh, phooey, my mascara’s already mussed.” She laughed. “Just build your house with love.”
Olivia looked up into Jonathan’s eyes. “We will, Mom. You can count on it.”
*
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ISBN: 9781460312940
Copyright © 2013 by Lynette Sowell
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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