by Linda Ford
Steele's father joined them, draping his arm across his wife's shoulders. "What are the boys up to?"
Mrs. Davis smiled. "They've gone to pick up something for Grandpops."
Holly excused herself and returned to the party although she felt little party spirit. Even the return of Steele and his brothers didn't give her cause to celebrate. They delivered a parcel to the front. Henry quietly presented it to Nan. She unwrapped it and laughed then threw her arms around Henry's neck.
Henry held the gift for all to see. Holly's eyes blurred when she saw it was a painting of Henry and Nan together at the picnic she and Steele had gone on with them. Henry must have gotten it painted from the photo Holly had taken that day. And it would explain why Henry had begged a copy from her and made her promise not to mention it to Nan.
Afterward, the three brothers moved around the room as a unit, making it impossible for her to apologize to Steele. She overheard him tell his mother he and his brothers planned to spend the weekend hiking in the mountains.
She'd have to wait until his return to speak to him.
Steele returned from a vigorous weekend. His brothers might be into physical work on a daily basis but he had left them panting and begging him to slow down.
Mike had waited until they huddled around the fireplace roasting wieners and burning marshmallows before he started his free analysis of Steele's psyche. "You can't get away from your feelings, man. Take it from someone who knows."
"Sounds to me like you're about to make excuses for not being able to keep up. Maybe your age is starting to show." He loved to rub in the fact Mike was a year older. "So what's your excuse, Billy boy?"
The youngest brother laughed. "Leave me out of this argument. Trouble with you two is you let yourself care too much about one woman. Take me. I know how to enjoy them without getting all tangled up inside."
Mike understood too much of how Steele was feeling though Steele would never give him the satisfaction of admitting it. He'd spent two days trying to drive Holly from his thoughts with physical exercise but sore muscles was all he'd managed to achieve.
She'd made it clear at the engagement party she would never trust him. She hadn't even given him a chance to explain. Later, he'd avoided her. Didn't want to hear any more accusations. He just wanted to forget her.
But Mike was right. There seemed no way to run from his feelings. Feelings he didn't intend to validate by naming.
Steele sat behind his desk staring at the pile of work before him. His secretary knocked. "Delivery for you, Steele." She placed a parcel on his desk and retreated.
He turned the package around with little interest. He hadn't ordered anything and didn't much care for unsolicited freebies. But it beat tackling the files on his desk so he ripped it open. Inside sat a foiled wrapped parcel and an envelope.
He slid his thumbnail under the flap of the envelope and pulled out a card. His thoughts stalled as he saw a construction scene with piles of dirt and rough ground with a big yellow Cat in the back. Right dead center in the foreground sat a tiny green wrought iron bistro table and two people with their hands clasped. The man, his back showing, wore a suit and a bright yellow hard hat. No mistaking the caricature of the woman. A mass of waves, big brown eyes. Really big. Surrounding the table, cutting them off from the construction scene, banks and banks of purple flowers.
He traced his fingertip over the flowers, rested it on the face of the woman. A smile tugged at his heart, crept to his mouth. Holly—sweet, romantic and idealistic—had sent him a card she'd painted. He wasn't sure what it meant except it promised better things ahead.
He flipped open the card and read the verse inside, penned in precise calligraphy:
Love is a many splendored thing
It is different for different people
Different things at different times.
Beneath it she had written, Steele, I'm sorry. Can you give me another chance?
Men don't cry. They don't get all mushy about flowers and cards. He'd been told so all his life. Yet he'd never believed it. Not really. And he certainly didn't at this moment as his vision blurred. He knew what this card meant. It was more than an apology. It was an invitation. Acceptance. By putting the flowers and table in the center of a construction site she'd informed him that their very different viewpoints worked together in a way unique to them.
He hurried over to the windows and stared down at the café, hoping to see her giving out flowers and optimism. He wasn't disappointed. She bent toward a couple at a table tucked between two planter dividers, placing a pink flower in the center of the table and then spun away her hair cascading about her shoulders as she turned. In his mind he heard her laughing.
He grabbed the phone and made arrangements for a special delivery. Only then did he reach for the unopened gift and pulled out a tiny crystal vase. It held a purple Gerber daisy in water. How had it managed not to spill? He tipped it slightly. It wasn't water, just some kind of gel that looked like water. He laughed out loud and put the vase in the center front of his desk where he sat and stared at it.
The clock moved toward closing time with agonizing slowness. Finally, the hour arrived and he hurried across the street, carrying the card and gift with him.
She saw him, stopped and waited, her eyes almost as wide as on the card. He sensed her uncertainty in the way she squeezed the tea towel in her hands until her knuckles looked like a row of white marbles.
"Thanks for the gift." He held out the vase. "And a very nice card."
"You like them?" Her voice quavered uncertainly.
He longed to ease her concerns but knew it wasn't as simple as pulling her into his arms and kissing her. They had to resolve some of the issues between them. "I do. Especially the card. Did you mean to show us working things out?"
She nodded. "Is it possible?"
He turned her toward a table, called for Meggie to bring them coffee. "I think it's very possible. What we are is a little bit romantic, a little bit practical. We have our own unique blend. A balance maybe."
"Nan said we balanced each other." Holly chuckled. "She seemed to think that was a good thing."
He traced the line of her jaw with his finger, paused to play with a strand of hair, letting himself love everything about this woman from her wavy hair, to her uncertain smile, to her romantic idealism. "Holly, for the first time since I was a little kid I feel satisfied about who I am. I've been hiding my true feelings about a lot of things behind my defense of practical. But the closer I get to you, the more comfortable I am acknowledging who I am and what I want."
Her eyes filled with the light of a thousand stars. "That's wonderful. I'm glad." She pressed her hand over his, capturing it against her cheek. "In you I've found what I need and want. I've found solidness that allows me to trust as much as I dream. I trust you. I know I haven't exactly shown it but I've been afraid." She turned and placed a kiss in his palm.
Her confession puzzled him. "What are you afraid of?"
She lifted a shy look to him. "Hurting you like Mom hurt Dad. I don't know that I can be all you need."
His words scratched from a throat that tightened at her confession. "No one has ever cared about what I need like you do. Holly, we'll both make mistakes. Only God is perfect. As long as we stay close to Him, He'll enable us to overcome our weaknesses, to grow, and to forgive each other and ourselves when we need it."
"I like that," she whispered.
He forced himself to ignore the way she looked at him, all kissable and eager. "Holly, I've done some serious soul searching about what I believe—really believe—about love and marriage. Not just the words but where the rubber meets the road. Right in my office. I still want to help people so they don't make momentous mistakes at a time when they are thinking with their emotions. But in the future I'll only act to protect a marriage."
Tears spilled from her eyes.
He grabbed a napkin and dabbed at them, his heart ready to burst from the pain of making her
cry. "I thought you'd be happy about it."
"I am. These are happy tears."
"Whew. You scared me."
"Steele Davis you are a generous and kind man. I'm so proud to know you."
At that moment the delivery van pulled up. Two men got out carrying armloads of pink carnations. They filled Holly's arms and her lap. Several times they returned to the van for more flowers. They piled them on the table, arranged vases of them on the floor around Holly, and put more on the adjoining table.
Steele handed them a tip, grinning widely at Holly's surprise.
"What is this?"
"I'm setting the scene." Every pain of rejected, denied emotions of his past was washed away by the look in her darkening eyes, full of expectant trust. He would spend the rest of his life fulfilling that trust if she'd let him.
He went to her side, fell to one knee and took her hand. "Holly Hope, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life doing my best to make you happy. Will you marry me and let me do that?"
"I love you, Steele Davis. I'd be honored to marry you. And I promise to spend the rest of my life doing my best to satisfy your needs."
Ignoring the pink flowers that almost buried her, he cupped her head and kissed her with a heart full of love and gratitude.
When he finally released her, her cheeks glowed the color of the flowers. Her eyes glistened with some sort of inner joy.
She gave a long look around. "Pink flowers?"
He nodded. "Can't think of a better way to say 'I love you.'"
Epilogue
Holly's mother smiled as she adjusted Holly's veil. "You're the most beautiful bride."
Nan chuckled. "What does that make me?"
Holly and Mom laughed, shared a special glance of understanding. "You're beautiful too," they chorused. Indeed Nan, in a slim fitting, pink silk suit, glowed like a summer sky just as the sun teased at the horizon. Holly knew the glow had nothing to do with the color of Nan's suit. It came from inside. She knew because her own insides glowed so warm she thought her heart would spontaneously combust.
Mom hurried to peek through the doors. For the seven hundredth time. You'd think she was the one getting married. "Isn't it time to begin? When's the organist going to start our song?"
Nan and Holly smiled at each other at Mom's impatience.
"You're sure you don't mind sharing your day with an old lady?" Nan asked, marring her serenity with a tiny frown.
"Not one bit. I'm glad we decided to do this together," Holly whispered, her throat tightening. "It makes the day even more special."
The music changed.
"About time," Mom grumbled. She backed from the door. "Do I look okay?"
"Mom, you're beautiful." She wore a frothy dress in pale blue. She'd gained back the weight she'd lost. "You could pass for my sister. Now go."
Mom drew in a deep breath and marched down the aisle.
Nan was next. She never faltered. Never hesitated. Didn't even glance back at Holly.
And then it was Holly's turn. Dad joined her. "You ready, my sweet daughter?"
"Are you ready, my handsome father?"
He grinned. "Let's do this."
Holly stepped into the church, forced herself to look at Mom waiting at the front, Nan and Henry beside her and then allowed herself to meet Steele's gaze. After that, nothing else mattered. If not for Dad's steadying arm she would have raced to Steele's side.
"Who giveth this woman?" Pastor Don asked.
Dad handed her to Steele then took his place beside Mom.
Pastor Don addressed the gathered friends and family.
"Today we are witnesses of a unique ceremony. The marriage of Steele and Holly. The marriage of their grandparents. And the renewal of vows between Holly's parents. A blessed occasion, indeed."
Mom and Dad renewed their vows. Holly had promised herself she wouldn't cry and she succeeded though it took a few deep breaths. Steele squeezed her hand. She knew he understood her emotion at seeing her parents recommit to each other. She had him to thank for helping them.
Then Nan and Henry exchanged vows. Holly pressed her lips together and widened her eyes. She would not cry on her wedding day no matter how touched she was by the deep, open love between the older couple.
And then it was their turn. She turned to face Steele, almost lost control of her tears when she saw how his eyes glistened. She loved him all the more for his tender side.
They promised to love each other until death. Then the three couples moved to sign the register, Mom and Dad witnessing both marriages.
She glanced about. Love was truly a unique thing for each couple. The grandparents, a blend of romance and practicality. Her parents, a love based on hope and forgiveness. Steele's parents, their love so practical yet for them, exactly what they needed and wanted.
She glanced up at Steele, her new husband. Their love was a blend of all of the above. It would change and grow as they did.
The pastor asked the congregation to stand as he prayed.
"Lord, bless these unions with enduring marriages and everlasting love. Amen."
The six people at the front echoed with a resounding "Amen."
Dear Reader
I loved doing a story of three generations of love. Isn’t it wonderful to see love surviving over the years? I also loved bringing together a romantic and a cynic.
I hope you enjoyed this story. If you did, you might like other stories I have written (turn the page for a sneak preview of the next book in the Montana Skies series). You can learn about them and things about my life and family on my website (link below). Or connect with me on Facebook.
Please sign up for my newsletter to hear about upcoming releases.
I love to hear from readers so feel free to send me a note.
Blessings,
Linda Ford
LindaFordauthor
www.lindaford.org
Darcy Hagen never knew she had a half-sister, Amy. But when her father passes away, she’s left with joint guardianship of the girl—and must find a way to work together with the other guardian, Blake Thompson. She’s hated him from afar ever since her father left and married Blake’s mom.
Blake’s certain that Darcy won’t stick around. Why should she insert herself into Amy’s life only to leave again? But spring break forces Blake and Darcy into close quarters to care for Amy, and they discover they were wrong about each other after all…
When Blake suggests a marriage of convenience, Darcy realizes that she’s fallen for him… and that she wants more than what he’s offering. Will Blake realize the truth of his own feelings before it’s too late for them to create a family of their own?
Chapter One
Late. Again. Blake Thompson rushed into the house and headed for his bedroom. How long did it take to read a will? How long to settle things amicably and shake hands all around so he could get back to his chores? Cows and calves to look after. The tractor to service. He didn't have time for this, but he had too much at stake to avoid it. He breathed a silent prayer, Lord, let this be short and sweet.
He grabbed his wallet and as he headed down the hall, his six-year-old half-sister, Amy, dogged his heels.
"How long you going to be gone?"
"Not a minute longer than I have to."
"I wish I could go. There's nothin' to do here."
He paused at the living room. "Aunt Betty," he called. "I'm on my way to town. Keep an eye on Amy, will you? Anything you need?" She shook her head as she concentrated on her knitting.
"I wanna to go with you," Amy persisted.
"You'd just have to sit in the truck. Besides don't you have twelve cats waiting to play with you?" The cats were a nuisance underfoot in the supply room but he wouldn't deny his sister the pleasure she got from her pets.
"Can you get me more cat food?"
"Hey, aren't you afraid they'll get fat and lazy?" He grinned down at her. "And then they wouldn't do their job."
Her gorgeous blue eyes cou
ld be dark and moody at one moment and the next, guileless and sky bright, like now. "Un uh." She shook her head until her blonde hair sprayed around her face. "Bullet caught a mouse yesterday. He's real fast, you know." She stuck out her bottom lip. "You never take me with you."
Ignoring her whining, he held out his arms. "Come on. Give your big brother a hug and kiss." He braced himself as she launched into his arms, squeezing her arms around his neck until he could hardly breathe.He slowly released her, letting her land on his boots. She clung to him, giggling when he swung her high with each step until he reached the truck. "Gotta go, squirt. Behave yourself while I'm gone."
Twenty minutes later, he jerked to a halt on the main street of Blissdale, Montana, population 786. For a moment, he rested his forearms on the steering wheel. His own father had died when he was thirteen, and his mother four years ago. He still missed them. Sure, he didn't think about them all the time, but when he least expected it, pow, a sucker punch jerked his breath away. He knew it wouldn't be any different with Rob.
He straightened, rolled up his sleeves, hung his sunglasses from his breast pocket and slid from his truck. He dusted the seat of his jeans and strode past the sign—Eugene Smart, Barrister and Solicitor— and into the office. Gene's receptionist ushered him into the inner room.
She sat across the desk from the lawyer—the woman who'd refused to visit Rob as he lay dying. But she sure had no trouble making it to the reading of the will.
He'd seen Rob's photo of her as a kid and knew she bore a resemblance to Amy. He just wasn't prepared for how strong the likeness was in an adult woman. Clear blue eyes like his little sister's, pale brown hair. And right now cool and steady. In fact, if he didn't miss his guess, he would say they were challenging. As if daring him to object to her presence. Fiery, red-hot lights burst in his head. He objected all right.