by Jeri Odell
“Like what?”
“Like how much I missed you, and how God used my grief to lead me toward Him and becoming His man—sold out. You know how He starts convicting you about something and then every message leads to the same point?” His voice was excited as he shared.
“What was the point He was making with you?”
“To really be a man of God would take more time with Him. First my dad told me I needed some spiritual intensive care—sort of like a hospital for the soul. Then I got this crazy e-mail about cell phones. I can’t even remember most of it, but the gist was what if you treated your Bible with the same adoration and affection you had for your cell phone? You know, carried it with you everywhere you went, flipped through it several times a day, and responded to the text.”
“That’s good.”
“And a little too true in my case. But again another message about my commitment level. I’ve loved the Lord ever since I can remember and for the most part made good choices, but I learned I was complacent. My cell phone was more important to me than my Bible. I decided not to live like that anymore. I want God to be number one in my life.”
“I want that, too, Brady. For both of us.”
“So how soon can we get married?” He sounded more than ready.
“This will probably sound crazy to you, but I’d like to live in the same place and just date for a while.”
“Ah—you want the courtship.”
Kendall smiled. “I guess I do, and I want us to really know each other well.”
“No surprises later, huh? You don’t want to wake up and find yourself married to Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”
“I am pretty concerned about that.”
“So what are we talking? Six months, a year?”
Kendall thought about it. How long was the right amount of time? They’d been through more in a couple of months than most couples in a couple of years. She already knew Brady better than almost anyone else. “How about next spring?”
“Next spring it is.” He dug through his backpack and pulled out a large envelope. “This is from my mom and Delanie.” Kendall opened it. “An engagement card.” She read the sentiment aloud. “Your mom says, ‘If I could have handpicked my daughter-in-law from anyone in the world, it still would have been you. I love you.’ ”
“What did Delanie write?”
“ ‘For Uncle Brady and Aunt Kendall—I’m so glad you’ll be together forever so you can grow old with my mom and dad. I love you already. Your next niece or nephew.’ ”
“Delanie’s pregnant!” they chimed together and hugged.
Even though most of her yesterdays were forgotten, she had so much more than only today. She had a bright future full of tomorrows with a man who vowed never to let her go.
Epilogue
Spring had arrived, and so had the eve of Kendall and Brady’s big day. They’d had their rehearsal and shared dinner with their families and closest friends—a night of fun, celebration, and rejoicing. Of course they’d held the event at Bertha Miranda’s.
Now it was just the two of them, walking hand in hand around the lake near his parents’ home. “Tomorrow you’ll be Kendall Cooper.”
“Or you could be Brady Brooks,” Kendall joked. “Actually, Kendall Cooper has a nice ring to it.”
“Mrs. Brady Cooper.” He liked the sound of it. “How long do you think it will take your class to switch from Ms. Brooks?”
“Probably the rest of the school year, but I hope sooner.” Kendall had decided to get her teaching certificate. She’d taken the classes she needed in the fall and was student teaching this semester in the second grade.
“Are you still wishing we could have married on the top of El Mirador?”
Kendall smiled, and a faraway look settled on her face. “I would have loved it, but how would we get my seventy-year-old grandmother up there?” No matter how many ways they looked at the possibility, the logistics just wouldn’t work. “No, we made the best choice, but I love your suggestion that we go there every fifth anniversary and recite our vows again. I’m holding you to that idea.”
“I’m willing to be held.” Brady glanced at the time on his cell phone. “I need to get you home. I’ve heard brides need their beauty sleep.”
❧
The next morning Kendall, Delanie, and their mothers had their hair, makeup, and nails done. Delanie brought baby Camden, so they all took turns snuggling with the tiny six-week-old infant. Kendall loved holding him. She was already longing for little ones of her own, but she and Brady had decided to take at least a couple of years to be just the two of them, maybe travel a little, and figure out life as a couple before jumping headlong into parenthood.
“How many of those do you want, Kendall?” Her mother looked with longing at Camden.
Kendall rubbed the back of her index finger softly over the infant’s cheek. “That is still on the table for discussion. Somewhere between two and four.”
“I just want you to know your dad and I are ready, so whenever you want to get started. . .”
“Mom!” Kendall blushed. She and her mom didn’t have those kinds of conversations. But Kendall was very much looking forward to consummating her relationship with Brady. She and Delanie had had those conversations, and Delanie painted a very beautiful picture of the physical love between a husband and wife.
Kendall decided to switch topics, really not wanting to have “the talk” with her mom in front of her future mother-in-law. “Hey, Delanie, did you hear that Cody is bringing a date to the wedding?”
“Yes, and did you hear who?”
“Some girl named Lexi.” Kendall shrugged.
“Alexandria Eastridge. She’s a pretty big name in modeling.”
Growing up out of the country made Kendall oblivious to much of pop culture.
Delanie continued. “She’s also been on a few tabloids. I hope Cody knows what he’s doing.”
Marilyn said nothing, but Kendall spotted the concern in her eyes.
After their time at the spa, the girls all went back to Marilyn’s house to get dressed. It was a simple affair out by the lake. Nothing fancy, but exactly what Kendall wanted.
❧
At three in the afternoon, Brady stood under a tree facing the lake. He had strict orders not to turn around until the music began to play. Cody stood at his side, both men wearing tuxes. Both Frankie and Eli were ushers. Brady’s palms were damp, and he kept wiping them on his pant legs.
The music started. Brady turned. Summer and Mason started down the makeshift aisle toward him, Summer dropping rose petals and Mason carrying the all-important pillow. The rented white chairs seated about sixty guests. It had been hard to keep the guest list so small, but it was what they both wanted.
Once the kids made it to the front, Delanie started her walk as the matron of honor. Brady glanced at his mom in the front row holding Camden. She smiled and wiped a tear away.
The music changed. The guests stood. Kendall came out of hiding, and the sight of her in her dress and veil stole his breath. Their eyes met. She smiled, and he felt like the most blessed man in the world. He got teary, and he wasn’t a teary kind of guy.
She moved with grace toward him. Their gazes remained glued to each other. She simply glowed. She’d mastered walking without a cane but still had a barely perceivable limp. He wasn’t even sure what was said, but her dad pulled her veil back and kissed her cheek. Then he placed her hand in Brady’s and kissed his cheek.
The minister made a few comments. Then it was Brady’s turn to say his vows. “When I found the one my heart loves, I held her and would not let her go. Kendall, I will hold you through good times and bad. I will not let you go whether we are rich or poor, sick or well. I will cherish you and honor you all the days of my life.”
And he did.
About the Author
JERI ODELL is a native of Tucson, Arizona. She has been married over thirty-five years and is the mother of three wonderful adult children
and one precious grandbaby. Jeri holds family dear to her heart, second only to God. This is Jeri’s sixth novel for Heartsong. She has also written four novellas, a nonfiction book, and articles on family issues for several Christian publications. She thanks God for the privilege of writing for Him. When not writing or reading, she is busy in her church and community. If you’d like, you can e-mail her at [email protected].
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I love to hear from my readers! You may correspond with me by writing:
Jeri Odell
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