He wiggled his eyebrows. “Is it a date for our wedding?”
“No, but I do want to talk about that.”
He grinned. “Good, me too. I’m thinking sooner rather than later.”
My heart tripped over itself, looking at him, imagining him my husband. “I think I’d say the same,” I whispered.
He kissed me again, and I watched him walk away, my heart spilling over. Sooner rather than later indeed.
I turned at the sound of new voices. Three women—maybe a mother and two daughters?—getting out of their sedan. “Welcome to Orchard House!”
“Oh, it’s just gorgeous.” The older woman gushed and held out her hand. “My name’s Marjorie.”
“So nice to meet you, and thank you so much.” I looked back at Aunt Pris’s home, caught a glimpse of her sitting regally on the rocking chair on her porch, a satisfied grin on her face. “We’ve been working hard to get it ready. Go on in and take a peek if you’d like. There’s hot chocolate and cookies inside and outside as well. Help yourselves.”
One of the younger girls stepped forward. “We’re really interested in seeing the Alcott room. We’re thinking of a mother-daughter getaway and since we have some family history surrounding the Alcotts we thought this might be a perfect place.”
“Really? I’d love to hear about it if you have the time.”
The young woman named Nicole explained how one of her ancestors, a Johanna Suhre, had been a good friend to Louisa, how she’d gifted Louisa a book of poems discovered only months before on the property of Orchard House in Concord, Massachusetts.
“You’re giving me goose bumps. That’s amazing.”
The other woman, whose name I learned was Amber, nodded. “We thought so, too. We’ve been kind of obsessed with all things Louisa May Alcott ever since.”
I laughed. “Well, you’re certainly in the right place.” I explained my parents’ own obsession with literature, told them all my siblings’ names.
“Yikes, so you were the one named after Jo, huh? Are you a writer?”
I smiled, found I no longer hated the expectation. I thought of my gift for Tripp. “You know, I think maybe I want to be. In the meantime, I’ll be running the bookshop here.”
Marjorie put her hand on her chest. “A bookshop, too? Girls, we may never want to leave!”
We laughed, and I led them into the house where Maggie directed them up the stairs.
“How are we doing?” I asked my older sister.
“I can’t believe it, but we’ve already booked most of the rooms through Christmas. The press release must be doing its work because people are booking online like crazy.” She squeezed my arm. “This is it! This is really going to work, Josie!”
Mom came around the corner, offering a plate of mushrooms. “Do I hear celebrating?”
“You sure do.” I told her the news.
She pressed her lips together, her eyes shining against the subtle glow of the candles she’d placed throughout the windows of the house. “It’s really happening. Girls, thank you. I can’t tell you what this means to me. And look at this place! Full, like it was always meant to be.” She threw her arms around both of us and when we parted we all blinked back tears. “Is Josh going to make it today, Maggie? He worked so hard on all this, and I don’t want him to miss out on these mushrooms.”
Maggie’s smile tightened. “He said he’d be here.”
I opened my mouth, but Maggie shook her head. Clearly, she didn’t want to get into anything now. I’d respect that, though I thought they’d been doing so well.
Amos’s belly gurgled, and I knew he’d need a diaper change soon. But I had a mission to complete before I left. Actually, a couple. I slipped outside and onto the porch, waved to Amie who was serving a little girl a plate of cookies. Behind her, Isaac stood in line. Amie grinned and waved back, sending warmth swirling inside of me.
Family wasn’t always easy, but these were the people I could count on, the ones who loved me in the no-matter-what. I thought of Marjorie and her two daughters touring the rooms upstairs, how we could play a part in their family as well. My insides turned squishy thinking about it and a holy whisper settled over me, reassuring me of one beautiful fact.
This…this was the great I was made for. Maybe it wasn’t the something great I’d intended to do, but it didn’t make it any less important. Mom’s dreams, little Amos’s sweet body cradled in my arms, helping Finn, making opportunities for the needy, building a life with a man I loved. I couldn’t imagine anything greater.
I searched the crowd, peace settling deep within me. “There’s the old girl,” I whispered to Amos as I approached Aunt Pris.
“Well, are you happy with yourself, Josephine?”
I bent to plant a kiss on her cheek. “I’m happy, Aunt Pris. And what do you think of all this?” I gestured to the crowd, the orchard off to the left, the harbor off to our right, past the library. The hum and life of the place.
She gave me a hard look, but it softened into a smile. “I think, dear girl, that I am quite happy.”
I grinned and hefted Amos into my arms. “Do you want to hold him?”
“Goodness, no. I had you build that apartment upstairs in the barn for a reason. When he starts using his appendages for something other than flailing needlessly, I’ll do more associating.”
I shook my head. “You’re one tough cookie to crack, Aunt Pris.”
“And yet, you’ve seemed to have done some cracking this year, haven’t you?”
“I suppose I have.” I fumbled in my coat pocket and pulled out two sheep figurines. I held them out to her with my free hand.
She cocked her head and took the figures from me. “What’s this?”
“I couldn’t help but notice your bedroom décor during renovations. I saw these two downtown and thought of you.” Aunt Pris’s bedroom and curtains were all dressed in decorative sheep fabric. It struck me as tender that she would be so attached.
She took the figures from my hand. Two sheep in cream and black with bells around their necks, and adorable black faces.
Aunt Pris cleared her throat and blinked hard. “That’s thoughtful of you, girl. Very thoughtful. Thank you.”
Our gazes tangled for a moment, and I felt real peace between us. A camaraderie of sorts. “Thank you,” I said. I hoped she realized the gravity of my gratitude.
“Hey, Aunt Pris.” Tripp came up beside me.
I excused us and led my fiancé around the wide porch to the far corner where we could be alone. I handed Amos to Tripp and lifted the screen of the window, sticking my hand inside to grasp my gift.
I pulled out a thick stack of papers tied with twine.
“My gift is a reading assignment?”
I gave him a sly grin. “You might like this story.”
“Pictures?”
“No.”
“Flying men in red capes and dashing tights?”
“Nope.”
He stroked his chin. “Characters with the first name of Captain and the last name of Underpants?”
“Definitely, definitely not.”
“Then what will I like about it?”
I slid it into his hands and retrieved Amos. “It’s the story of us. You told me when I first came home you’d read anything I’d written because I wrote it. This is my heart, Tripp. And now it belongs to you.”
He ran his hand over the printed title of the book. Where Grace Appears. “Wow. Josie, I don’t know what to say. I mean, of course I want to read it.” He flipped to the first page, the sentence still stuck in my head.
The nature of secrets is that they long to be kept and long to be told all at the same time.
This…this was life. Seeking hope and kindness in the midst of the hard. Using our gifts to bless others. Walking in the light of love.
I snuggled into Tripp’s arms with Amos, the sun spreading warmth over us.
This was our life. And it was only just beginning.
Dear Reader,<
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* * *
It’s been such a privilege to share this story with you. Ever since I completed research for my dual timeline novel, The Orchard House, I wondered if I could really be done with Louisa May Alcott and her Little Women. This new series, it seems, is the result of that wondering.
* * *
I hope you enjoyed the Martin family—how they struggle, how they learn, how they love one another. Lord willing, our plan is to release this six-book series over the next 18 months, so no long waiting times with these!
* * *
If you enjoyed Where Grace Appears, I would be so very humbled and appreciative if you might leave a review on Goodreads or wherever you purchased this book (even a few words is helpful!). Reviews give novels street credibility—an immense help for this author. Thank you!
* * *
Please turn the page for a look at the next book in The Orchard House Bed and Breakfast Series, Where Hope Begins. Enjoy!
Where Hope Begins
Happy endings, and even happy beginnings for that matter, were a lot of work.
I craned my neck to look past where my sister Josie walked up the makeshift aisle of the Camden Library amphitheater. She wore a simple ivory lace dress. Her face glowed as she locked eyes with her soon-to-be husband at the end of the aisle.
If only my husband would make an appearance, this day would be perfect.
Where was Josh? He wouldn’t miss Josie and Tripp’s wedding day. He wouldn’t.
I bit my lip, moved my focus to my younger sister. Josie was stunning. While she hadn’t lost all of her baby weight from having Amos last month, the extra pounds suited her. The sun shone through the near naked branches above, splashing off her shoulders and giving warmth to those in attendance. And Tripp stood at the end of the aisle all handsome and tall, his gaze caught up in his bride’s.
The wedding was a simple affair, just Josie and Tripp before Pastor Greg surrounded by no more than fifty guests. No wedding party. No fancy reception hall. Nothing but a whole lot of family and love and a beautiful blessing of an unseasonably warm day.
I twisted in my seat again, willing my own handsome blessing to appear. This not-showing-up thing was becoming a frustrating habit.
Six-year-old Isaac squirmed beside me. “Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom.”
I pressed my lips together. Ceremonies were tough for little boys to sit through, but this one had just started. I leaned down to whisper. “Are you sure? You just went before we got here.”
“I really have to go. Bad.”
I glanced at Isaac’s twin, Davey, who seemed preoccupied with a loose thread on the cuff of his button-down shirt. “Okay.” I leaned around the boys to get my sister Lizzie’s attention. “Would you watch Davey?” I whispered.
“Sure thing, sis.” Lizzie bounced Josie’s seven-week-old son, Amos, gently in her arms.
My brother Bronson tapped me on the back from where he sat behind us. “You want me to take him, Maggie?”
I looked longingly at Josie walking up the aisle with unusual grace, but shook my head. Isaac was my son. Inconvenient bathroom duty was part of being a good mom. “It’s okay, I got it. Thanks.”
When Josie reached the birch arbor at the end of the aisle, I led Isaac toward the library. Familiar faces smiled at us as we passed up the aisle, and I returned the gesture to family and friends in attendance—most who genuinely cared for the bride and the groom, a few who came for the sake of gossip.
I scrambled over the manicured grass in my high heels, trying to keep up with Isaac and praying he wouldn’t have an accident in his new dress pants. He’d always had a good bladder, but two nights ago he’d even wet the bed—something he’d never done.
We slid into the library bathroom and I tapped my foot as Isaac released his bladder for what seemed an interminably long time. When he finished, I helped him tuck in his shirt. Hmm, strange. “Are these Davey’s pants? They’re a bit loose on you.” I checked the size on the tag.
He yawned. “I don’t think so.”
He was right. They weren’t. “Feel better?”
“I’m real thirsty.”
“I have a water bottle in my bag.” If I’d learned one thing in the fourteen months I’d been a mother, it was to be prepared. Snacks and wipes and extra clothes and drinks always came in handy. I clutched Isaac’s hand and pulled him back outside.
He’d fought a small stomach bug the entire week—a little nausea and dizziness. Maybe I should have taken up my mother-in-law on her offer to watch the boys today. But I’d wanted the twins here. They belonged here. While I wasn’t certain Josh’s mother always thought so, I wanted to cement that truth in the boys’ heads—when I’d married Josh I’d married the twins as well. I couldn’t love a child from my own womb any more than I loved these boys.
There truly was nothing better than motherhood.
Even if I did feel like a single mother much of time.
A wolf whistle sounded from behind, and I turned. Josh jogged toward us, his muscular torso filling out the suit he’d worn on our wedding day. My heart softened at his bright smile and off-kilter tie.
He pulled me in for a kiss, enveloping me in the scent of aftershave and Gucci cologne. For just a moment, I sank into it.
“You look gorgeous, Mags.” He ruffled Isaac’s hair. “Hey, little man. How’d the soccer game go this morning?”
I didn’t let Isaac respond. “Where have you been?” I walked toward the courtyard amphitheater, tried not to let the sight of him all handsome and charming dissuade me from my just anger.
“I was working on something important and lost track of time. I’m so sorry, honey. I know Josie’s wedding’s important to you. It’s important to me, too.”
I opened my mouth to tell him if it was that important, he would have been here. On time. But before the words poured forth, I snapped my lips together, a habit I’d adopted from Mom in our growing up years.
None of my stress mattered in the end. When it came down to it, there was nothing in all the world I wanted more than this life, this husband, these two sons. I reached a hand out to Josh and the other to Isaac as I released my grudge and sneaked us back to our seats.
The wedding was simple and sweet, but not without tears, especially when the bride and groom said their vows. Pastor Greg spoke on 1 Corinthians, pulling out a point about agape love that I thought to incorporate into the next Bible study lesson I planned.
“This is boring,” Davey whispered, oblivious that his voice was loud enough to reach the ears of all in attendance. A few giggles rippled through the group, and Josh ducked down to whisper to Davey.
I watched my husband and our son, my heart overflowing. If only Josh had been at the field today to see Davey score twice. He would have been so proud. Video clips sent via text just weren’t the same.
I leaned back in my seat, taking in the lacy train of Josie’s gown beside an arrangement of sunflowers and eucalyptus. She’d had quite a year, but this happy ending couldn’t have been more perfect.
My gaze landed back on the flowers beside the arbor. They needed to be transported to the reception barn after the ceremony. I needed to remind Amie to get some good pictures of the Orchard House barn after we set up the flowers—we’d transformed it into a rustic yet elegant reception area. I’d put the pictures on the B&B website after creating a new page advertising our availability to host events.
We might even book some holiday parties. Josie’d say I was in over my head, but we could make good money with such events. The bed and breakfast had to survive. Our family had risked too much for it to fail.
Besides, Christmas would be beautiful at Orchard House.
Christmas. My favorite season. Last year had brought new kinds of magic with Josh and the boys. Stockings hung in our small, cozy living room. The four of us stuffed tight into a pew of our historic church on Christmas Eve singing Joy to the World with the rest of my family tucked behind us. Hot chocolate and holiday cookies. The
scent of pine mixed with dried oranges. The delight of the boys at finding their Elf on the Shelf, nicknamed Buddy, performing various and impossible acrobatic tricks.
I blinked to attention as the crowd clapped and I stood to join them, chastising myself as Tripp kissed Josie. How many times had I vowed to be present in the moment, to be intentional with what God put before me?
Celebratory bubbles floated through the air, and the triumphant wedding march sounded out over the harbor. Josh squeezed my hand and winked at me. I wondered if he’d been reminiscing about our special day just over a year ago—the happiest day of my life. No doubt he hadn’t been ruminating about the antics of our Elf on the Shelf.
As soon as the newlyweds cleared the aisle, I scooted forward to grab up floral arrangements alongside Lizzie. Planning the wedding on such short notice meant we all pitched in. Having the reception at the bed and breakfast meant our family was in charge of both the decorating and the transporting of the decorations.
Josh untied a bold arrangement of sunflowers from a chair in the front, where my mother had sat during the ceremony. “You think we can take a quick ride together later? Maybe Lizzie or Amie could keep an eye on the kids?”
“Um…yeah, maybe.” I shook my head. “Josh, I’m sorry, I can’t think of anything else right now until this is all broken down. Fifty guests may be small, but we have tons of food to put out once we get back. Can we talk about a ride later?”
He clapped his hands together, as if ready to coach his high school track team. “Yeah, absolutely. Whatever you need, Mags.”
I blew out a breath. “Thank you.”
“Mommy, I’m thirsty.”
I peered from behind a large arrangement of sunflowers, eucalyptus, and baby’s breath. “You finished all the water I gave you already, honey?”
He nodded.
Josh held a hand up. “I got this.” He scooped Isaac up and threw him over his shoulder. “I have a cooler full of water in the back of my truck. Let’s go, kiddo.”
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