As the sun sank closer to the horizon, Tripp promised to come back the next morning before making the drive home. They said goodbye, and Tripp walked out of the room with a strange feeling of peace like a balm around him. Compassion had replaced hate. It was more than a small miracle.
He opened up the map app on his phone, looking for the nearest superstore, an outrageous idea forming in his head. An idea so outrageous he didn’t think it could be his own.
And it likely wasn’t, for it came attached with a verse. A verse he wanted to fend off and give into all at once.
Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.
God’s grace.
He tried to rein himself in, knew his good intentions could sometime get the best of him. But then again, he was pretty certain these weren’t his good intentions at all.
He’d have to talk to Josie about the idea first, of course. But knowing her—and the legacy her father left—Josie’d be all in on it.
When Tripp Colton came into his room the next day, Finn couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Strange how he’d practically hated the guy up until two days ago. But now, he was almost like an old friend, an angel who had brought good news of his son.
Amos.
There couldn’t be a more perfect name for his friend’s grandchild, for Josie’s son.
For his son.
“Morning, Professor.” Tripp placed a bag on the table, then got to work fastening something on the rail of the hospital bed. Finn tried to turn, but found the neck brace doing its job. For Pete’s sake, he’d never take a single bone in his body for granted again.
He glimpsed a black metal pole out of the corner of his eye, a stand on the end with a clip that Tripp adjusted to Finn’s line of vision. “What’s all this?”
“You’ll see.” Tripp opened the clip, stuck a photo in it.
Of course.
Finn’s bottom lip quivered. Why was he so blasted emotional all of a sudden? “Thank you.”
He couldn’t think of a better motivation to get well than seeing his son every day.
“And—” Tripp held up a new smartphone. “I synced it with my phone, so you have some audio books on here. Hope you like the Bible and Diary of a Wimpy Kid series, because that’s all I got. But you can buy more when you want.”
“Diary of a Wimpy Kid? Really? Are you sure Josie picked you over me?”
Tripp pointed at him. “You better believe it, buddy.”
“Almost feels like my birthday around here. All we need is a cake and a skimpily clad lady jumping out of it to complete my day.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I have something much better than satisfying your perverse desire to use women for your pleasure. I have an offer.”
“An offer?”
“I talked it over with Josie last night and we’d like you to consider a rehabilitation clinic near Camden. We could visit you, even bring you some of Hannah’s cookies now and then. Best of all, you’d get to know your son. And after you’re out of there, if you still need some help getting around, there’s an apartment on top of Grandpop’s garage that no one’s using. You’d be on your own, but close enough for help if you needed it. I could build a ramp easy enough.” Tripp looked at the floor, as if he doubted the worth of his offer. “Just until you got on your feet, of course. Literally. Figuratively. Might be nice to be away from the city for a bit, get to know your son.”
Finn blinked, fast. “Why are you doing this?”
Tripp rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly? I really don’t know. Realistically, you’re a threat to everything I love most. But something within me wants to help you. If Amos were my son it would kill me to be apart from him. I can’t wish that on my greatest enemy. And you know, after yesterday, I’m thinking there’s some kind of hope for friendship between us. If Josie ends up accepting my proposal someday, I’ll be Amos’s dad, too. Why should we have to hate each other? Why couldn’t he have two terrific dads—one who can teach him how to read long, boring books on topics he’ll never use and another one—a cool one, who can teach him how to build things and share a good Superman comic with him once in a while?”
Finn laughed. “You’re serious?”
“I’m serious.”
“And Josie’s okay with this?”
“She is.”
Finn dragged in a quivering breath, thinking of Josie and Tripp and Amos, of the entire Martin family.
A family.
His family.
Part of him was afraid to accept such outlandish kindness. To depend on people too much. Another part couldn’t bear the thought of rejecting the offer. Of being a part of something bigger than himself, of being a part of love.
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
Tripp shrugged. “You already are. Might as well be a bother without me driving seven hours away.” He slapped Finn’s leg cast with the back of his hand. “I’m just kidding, man. This feels right, you know? Like it doesn’t make sense, but that’s how I know God’s on board.”
Finn closed his eyes. It didn’t make sense. And crazy enough, he had that strange feeling of anticipation and peace again, much like he’d had on his last jump. He pressed his lips together before jumping in. “Okay, on one condition.”
“You’re making conditions now?”
“I am.”
Tripp raised his eyebrows. “I’ll entertain your condition for kicks and giggles alone. Shoot.”
“You let me take you skydiving after I’m all in the clear. My treat.”
“Treat? I think you mean torture. No way. I like the use of my limbs, thank you very much.”
“It’s really quite safe—”
“Says the guy in a body cast.”
“I shouldn’t have jumped in that wind. Will you at least think on it?”
Tripp held up a hand, slapped it back to his thigh. “How are you in any position to call the shots here?”
“I’m not. But I’m just wondering how crazy you actually are after this entire proposition.”
“Have I not proven I’m of sane mind, then?”
“Can I be honest?”
“Of course.”
Finn pressed his lips together before speaking. “I hate asking for help. I like being able to handle myself, you know?”
“There’s nothing shameful in needing help. I know it’s sometimes hard for us tough guys, but if you can’t admit you need help now, there’s no hope for any of us.”
Finn laughed.
“Josie and her family want to help. I do, too. I can’t believe I do, but I do. Don’t overthink it, just accept it, okay?”
Another trembling breath. “I screwed up a lot this year. Even asking Josie to marry me. My intentions were honorable, but my heart wasn’t in it. I just wanted to do the right thing, you know? Get rid of the guilt.”
Tripp didn’t answer right away, and for a moment Finn wondered if he’d left, or fallen asleep. “I feel like maybe God spared you for a reason. Whether it’s for a second chance, to be a father to Amos, or maybe even to teach me a thing or two, you’re here when you have every reason not to be. The question is, how are you going to live now? What do you want the rest of your days to look like?”
“That’s a loaded question.”
“But it’s a good one. And maybe you need to take a while to figure it out, you know? But would you rather figure it out alone and isolated here, or with your son and people who care about you in Camden? It’s your choice.”
Finn inhaled deeply, ready to take the plunge. “Then, I choose Camden. I choose my son.”
“Good.” Tripp gave Finn’s arm a firm pat. “Josie’s already made a list of rehab places and did some research on reviews. She can get the ball rolling faster if you’re willing to make her your health proxy. She suggested it, not me. I’m assuming you don’t have one?”
“You assumed right.” He had no one.
But that
wasn’t true.
Not anymore.
31
I fluttered around the bookstore, a bundle of nervous energy as rain tapped out a steady rhythm against the large windows. Two hours at most before Amos would need feeding again. Although he was just upstairs with Lizzie and Amie, I already felt the pull of his absence, an ache in my chest at the separation.
But this needed attention now. While the role I wanted Tripp to have in my life was clear before Amos was born, it was all the more so now. Seeing Tripp press a kiss to my son’s forehead in the hospital before he left for New York, talking with him over the phone, aching for him at the same time, I was beyond touched at his crazy generous idea to bring Finn home to Camden. Everything Tripp did—every act of true and genuine love he performed—made me long for him with a tenacity so powerful it almost frightened.
And while I tried to chalk it up to post-labor hormones, it was no use.
This was the man I wanted forever. No more excuses, no more pushing it off. Sure, the town might gossip about me marrying so soon after having another man’s baby. It sounded terribly scandalous even to my own ears. But none of what took place the last few months made sense—selling the Martin home and opening a B&B with Aunt Pris, quitting school to run a bookshop, thinking I could be a competent single mother, and now, welcoming a needy Finn back into my town and my life—and yet I could say with confidence that I was better off for all of it. I’d been broken, consumed in myself. But all that had changed. Now, I could only think about continuing to move forward, to plan this night especially for me and Tripp.
I tucked my wet umbrella behind the bookshop desk and surveyed the simple table before me, the hot dishes simmering under metal lids. Mom insisted on making one of Tripp’s favorites when I’d shared my plan—linguine and clams with her special pink sauce. She’d broiled vegetables and tossed a salad and provided some bread and sparkling cider for the occasion.
I’d bought a value pack of tea lights and placed them on the empty bookshelves of the store, their glowing reflection off the floor-to-ceiling windows, now streaked with rain, creating an illusion of vast majority and light, the dim recessed bulbs above just enough to see our dinner. A subtle classical jazz music played in the background.
I wiped my sweaty palms on my maternity dress, wished that the weight would come off as easily as it’d come on. I looked forward to using the new jogging stroller once Amos was a little older. We’d have lots of good runs together.
I straightened the platinum wedding band glowing off the candlelight on Tripp’s dinner plate.
He better say yes after all of this.
And then the door opened and Tripp swept me up in his strong arms. The clean woodsy scent of his cologne mixed with that of rain and drowned me in pleasure. I sunk into it, savored the feel of his lips over my eyelids, grazing my cheek, then finally meeting my lips.
“Boy, I missed you.” His mouth moved to my neck, his arms tight at my waist.
“I missed you, too. Thanks for coming. I know you must be tired from the drive.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to sleep without seeing you first. Although now, I probably won’t be able to sleep because I’ve seen you.” He pulled back, pushed a lock of hair from my face. “You are gorgeous. I don’t know how I survived last winter not seeing you for months at a time. These last few days were torture.”
“What you did down there…it was over and above anything I asked of you. When you suggested bringing Finn here, I thought you’d lost it.”
“I’m losing it, all right.” He didn’t stop kissing my neck, moved to my collarbone. It felt wonderful, and while I wanted to give myself over to him, I had a baby upstairs who would need feeding all too soon. Not to mention the proposal I intended to make.
I pushed him lightly away. “Seriously, Tripp. I—I’m trying to talk to you. Really talk to you.”
He straightened, shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Right, talking. I love talking.”
I couldn’t contain a smile. “What I mean is, some things became super clear to me while you were away. Like, I felt lost without you.”
“I’m liking this kind of talking. Go on.”
I slapped him on the chest, but kept my hands there, fingering the buttons of his shirt. “And like I want to be with you all the time. I want to love you how you love me. More, if that’s even possible. So much more than a couple cupfuls.” I inhaled a deep breath. I hadn’t meant to dive into my question two minutes after his arrival, but why not? I’d never been good at holding back. “Tripp, I want you. All of you, every day. I want you to be Amos’s father—step-father, whatever the right term for it is. I want you to be my husband.” I turned to scoop up the ring and held it out to him. “Tripp, will you marry me?”
He eyed the ring. “You’re proposing to me? Josie Martin, you’ve had a lot of crazy ideas in your day, but this might top them all.”
I brought the ring closer to my body, lifted my chin, bracing for a fight. “Why shouldn’t I propose to you? I think it’s fitting after rejecting your last two attempts.”
“You didn’t reject me the second time. You put me off. Now, you’re trying to take credit for the idea.”
“I am not.” I froze, shook my head. “How come we can never propose to one another without fighting?”
One corner of his mouth hitched up in a half-grin.
I blinked. “None of it matters, right? Do we want this or not?”
He stepped closer, cupped my face with his hand. “I want it more than anything else in the world. So what do you say—you want to get married?”
“Yes,” I breathed, sealing it with a kiss before I could give into the temptation to point out that he’d just twisted it around so he was the one doing the asking.
I’d let it slide. This time.
And with the way he kissed me, with an urgency and passion that hinted of things to come, I’d let it slide a hundred times over.
When we finally parted, he gazed at me, the candlelight playing off his handsome features. “I love you, Josie Martin. Always and forever I’ve loved you, and always and forever I will love you.”
“You’ve shown me real love my entire life, but especially these past months. I never want to know what it’s like to be lost again.”
He kissed me again, long and slow, kindling heat within me. “Can we get married tomorrow?” His husky voice whispered near my ear.
I laughed. “Don’t you think we should get through the opening of Orchard House first?”
He groaned, kissed the top of my head, spoke a soft prayer of gratitude. His stomach gurgled at the end, and I led him to the table, lifted my sparkling cider. “To what’s behind, and what’s ahead. To you, Tripp Colton, for loving me at my worst.”
He lifted his glass. “To you, my soon-to-be wife. You will always be the woman of my dreams.”
The clinking of our glasses rang up to the rafters of the barn, a pleasant anticipation of the promises we intended to make to one another soon. I looked across at the man who would soon be my husband, thought of the secrets I’d held and how his love had pulled them from me, opening me up and pouring me out.
That truly was radical, scandalous grace.
32
Columbus Day weekend brought tourists aplenty to enjoy the long weekend and seek out the brilliant red and orange leaves against a blue sky…and the official opening of The Orchard House Bed and Breakfast. Maggie worked hard to get the word out through as many newspapers as she could—both near and far—as well as online.
The cooler weather brightened the leaf-swept grass. Cheery mums in planters splashed the porch with color, and Amie stood behind a table at the side of the driveway serving hot chocolate and Mom’s cookies. Two teens Mom hired from the high school served trays of bacon-wrapped scallops, spinach phyllo rollups, and parmesan and lobster stuffed mushrooms. Maggie had posted herself at the front desk inside, and last I checked had taken a handful of reservations. In the background, the ol
d orchard celebrated in its own holiday attire of red and burgundy, its work for the year done. And in many ways just beginning.
The Orchard House Bed and Breakfast was in business.
Among the tourists and townies were Esther’s family, Liam and Rose Hornwell, and a group of bedraggled men from Dad’s mission whom Mom planned to hire for lawn and maintenance work.
I shifted Amos onto my shoulder and breathed in the fruit of our creation. More than simply a new business, but a legacy and tribute to Dad.
A hand came around my waist from where I stood on the side walkway, greeting newcomers and ushering them into the house. Tripp leaned over to kiss my head. “The bookshop looks great. You even had a few customers.”
I had shown one of Esther’s great-granddaughters how to handle the register and the sales. The girl seemed to have a knack for it and Aunt Pris hadn’t put up a fuss.
“How was Finn this morning?” Tripp ran a finger along the bottom of one of Amos’s booted feet.
“Good. Amos smiled for him and the man practically melted into a puddle. He’s really changed, hasn’t he? I still can’t believe it.” Though Finn’s movement was still limited, the neck brace had come off, which proved encouraging. Things would remain slow, but his spirits seemed high.
Tripp nodded, thoughtful. “You think…well, I don’t want you having any regrets about us. I mean, if Finn turns over a new leaf….”
“You think I asked you to marry me because I didn’t have any better options?”
A smile teased one corner of his mouth. “Let’s get one thing straight—I get the credit for the proposal.”
I nudged him with my shoulder. “Just so you know, I had no better options. Because there is no one better for me than you. It may have taken a while for me to get that, but now that I do, you’re stuck with me for life.”
His hand tightened around my waist. “That better be a promise.” He pressed his mouth to mine in a kiss that weakened my knees. “I’m going to go see if there’s any cookies left.”
“Okay. Hurry back, though. I have something I want to give you.”
Where Grace Appears Page 25