Authors: Leah Atwood
Leah’s First Contemporary Christian Romance now Available on
Amazon
“Watch out!”
Interrupted from her reading, Sophie Thatcher looked up to see a crazed duck with a bright red beak heading straight toward her. She dropped the latest Gwendolyn Gwen romance novel to the ground, jumped and ran, with no destination in mind except to escape the mad waterfowl. The duck continued after her, relentless in its pursuit. Who knew a duck was able to move with such speed?
The man who’d called out the warning ran up behind her, swinging a clear bag of… bread? The duck retreated, opting to chase food instead of her. She leaned over and tried to catch her breath, her heart beating at an erratic pace. Maybe this was a sign she should exercise on a regular basis. Or it could be it wasn’t the exertion as much her body’s reaction to the duck’s pursuit.
“Are you okay, miss?” The man with a plastic bag approached her. “I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault,” she managed to say through short, choppy breaths. Returning to an upright position, she got her first good look at the man who’d called the warning. He was attractive, even if not her type. He looked to be around her age, or possibly a few years older. Short brown hair matched deep chocolate-hued eyes, which were framed with eyelashes long enough to make any girl jealous. Rugged stubble lined his jaw. A slate blue t-shirt covered a muscular upper body, and she thought she saw a tattoo peeking out from under its sleeve. She didn’t stare long enough to be sure.
His chest shook, and he clamped his lips shut. He looked as if he were torn between being horrified or wanting to burst out laughing.
“Actually, it is.” He flashed a smile full of a sheepish charm. “My daughter and I were feeding the ducks and the rogue one got mad when the others took all the food. Next thing I know, he started running straight toward you.”
Her cheeks hurt from holding back her own laughter. She gave up trying and soon the stranger joined her as a little girl walked their way.
“What’s so funny, Daddy?” The little girl tugged on the man’s jeans.
“Nothing, sweetheart.”
“Can we finish feeding the ducks now?”
“I think the ducks are full. How about we swing for a little while before going back to Gram’s house.”
“Okay,” agreed the young girl, with a cheerful temperament.
Sophie wiped away a tear from laughing. “Thanks for the rescue.” She began walking back to the tree where she’d discarded her book.
“Least I could do,” he called out, in a deep, melodious voice that set her skin tingling.
Stop it, Sophie
. He had a daughter, which meant a good chance existed that he was married, which meant she had no business thinking about the silkiness of his voice, or the cute factor earned by bringing his daughter to the park.
Her phone buzzed and sang
Come to Me Alive,
the latest hit from country music star, Bryce Landry. A glance at the screen told her it was an unknown number. Probably a telemarketer. She hit “ignore” and replaced the phone to her pocket.
“You’re a Bryce fan?”
Startled, she jumped and looked behind her. The man was following her.
She shoved one hand in a side pocket of her shorts. “This song at least. I’m not too familiar with his other music, but the lyrics are beautiful and came to me when I needed them after a breakup.”
Good grief, Soph. A simple yes or no would have sufficed.
She never spilled her thoughts to a stranger, especially not to a male.
“Sorry to hear. About the breakup, not the song.” He rocked on his heels but maintained eye contact.
She shrugged, giving off the impression the breakup was no longer a big deal. “It was for the best; I see that now.”
Partially because of the song,
Come to Me Alive.
When she’d first heard the song
on the radio two weeks ago, she’d immediately looked it up, and downloaded it as her ringtone. The lyrics and music combined into a beautiful ballad, touching her in a way that made the breakup with Ryan make sense.
Ryan. They’d dated for three years, since the summer before their senior year of college. Last month, he’d broken off their relationship, just when she had thought they were heading toward an engagement.
“
I’ll always love you as a friend
,” he’d said, “
but I don’t feel any passion between us. Staying together wouldn’t be fair to either of us
.”
His words still stung, yet they were true. Especially after listening to the lyrics of
Come to Me Alive
. Was a relationship that didn’t invigorate the right one? With Ryan, she’d been coasting, along for the ride but never looking out the window to enjoy the trip.
“Most of the time, life doesn’t turn out how we plan, does it?” The stranger glanced to his daughter, a peculiar expression crossing his face. “The funny thing is, in hindsight, you can see God’s hand in every moment.”
His words stopped Sophie in her tracks from where she had started back toward the tree again. “You’re a Christian?”
“I’m approaching my one year birthday.”
A smile curled her lips. “Congratulations.” Stranger or not, he was a brother in Christ. She looked at her watch. “Yikes. I’m going to be late for my tutoring session.”
“You tutor?”
“During the summer and as needed throughout the school year.”
“Let me guess— you’re a kindergarten teacher.”
“First grade,” she corrected.
“I was close. Gracie will be in kindergarten this year.”
“I’m five,” the cherubic girl piped up.
She stooped down, putting herself eye-level with Gracie. “Five is a very special age. You’ll love kindergarten.”
“Mommy was a teacher too, but she’s in Heaven now.” The little girl spoke the words with the innocence of a child, but they broke Sophie’s heart.
“Her mom died last year.” Gracie’s still-nameless dad offered the information that she had been wondering, although it wasn’t her business.
“I’m sorry,” she told the man, unsure what the appropriate response was. She glanced at her watch. “I really have to go. Have a good day and stay away from the ducks,” she added before laughing with a nervous edge.
Something about the incident unsettled her in an indescribable way. With a turn of her feet, she hurried to her economic-but-reliable sedan.
“Wait,” the stranger called as she buckled her seatbelt. “You forgot something.”
He ran toward her car, pulling his daughter along in one hand and holding Sophie’s book in the other. Either he was very thoughtful or a psycho. Intuition told her the former was the truth.
“Thanks.” She took the book from him; his hand lingered on the cover.
“Can I have your name?” He gave her a charming grin. “Years from now, when I tell my grandchildren how I saved a beautiful woman from a raving mad duck, I need to have a name for her.”
With his creative plea, how could she deny his request? “Sophie Thatcher.”
She put the car in reverse and backed out from her spot. Once in her client’s driveway, she realized she didn’t get the stranger’s name in return. Her heart thumped harder and an inexplicable sense of loss came over her. The brief interaction with the man affected her in a strange way.
With a dose of reluctance, she admitted he attracted her. He was comfortable in his own skin, something she’d always wished for herself. He had a sense of humor and enjoyed life, despite his wife passing, leaving him alone as a single dad. Most importantly, he was a Christian, unafraid to bring it into the conversation. On the surface, he was nothing she’d ever looked for in a potential boyfriend, but below the surface— well, the pull was undeniable.
“How much did you hear?” Jesse’s face contorted into embarrassment and worry.
“Enough,” she answered sadly, the weight of broken dreams pushing her down. Mustering all the dignity and strength she could, she raised the subject of her own parents’ abusive marriage. “I won’t be married to a drunken man who thinks hitting people is acceptable. I witnessed enough of that from my own father.”
Before she knew what was happening, Jesse drew her into him, embracing her, comforting her. The strength of his arms around her was a direct conflict of the warring emotions inside of her. Upon meeting him, she’d felt a pull, an attraction she’d never known. He’d been affable and attentive, and she’d allowed herself to believe her marriage would be different than her parents’ union.
But how could a marriage succeed based on what she’d learned? Her husband didn’t truly want a wife; he wanted a means to receive his inheritance. Oh, maybe she could bear that alone, but from his father’s words, she intuited that Jesse imbibed and had a violent side. That she could not tolerate. There was no alternative, though, except to make the best of this situation. She’d made her vows and would not break them.
“I’m so sorry, Faith. This is not how I wished your arrival to happen. Please, let me explain.”
Mrs. Wallace’s words of advice came to the forefront of her memory.
Marriage takes a lot of understanding and communication. Conclusions are often drawn, but difficult to erase once spoken. An argument then commences because neither party listened to the other in time
.
“Sage advice,” Faith muttered.
“What was that?” Jesse asked.
“Just remembering some words of advice,” she answered quietly.
Jesse released her once her tears fully subsided. “I am truly sorry you had to hear the words between Pa and me. It is true in a sense that you are an ultimatum bride, but there is more to it.”
His words stung but as much as it hurt, she needed to know everything. “Then please tell me.”
She saw Jesse inhale sharply, and he stood and moved to the edge of the room. His demeanor became agitated, not toward her, but as though he was hesitant to explain. When he remained silent, she spoke words meant to spur his explanation. “Our marriage will be difficult enough considering the aspects of how we met. The circumstances may not have been ideal, but I want to believe we can still be happy; however, that will require complete honesty.”
Jesse turned and came back toward her. Kneeling in front of her, he took her hands. She made no effort to remove them, sensing he needed that contact. “I’ve made mistakes in my past. My mother died young, and I was the eldest of four children, the only boy. Lost in his grief, my father hired a housekeeper and nurse to look after us. For all intents and purposes, I was left to my own devices, the girls receiving most of the attention. As I grew, my father over indulged me, allowing me too much freedom. I’m ashamed to say I took advantage of that freedom, doing things I’m not proud that I did.”
He paused and Faith reflected on the differences in their upbringings. Both had lost their mothers at a young age, but Faith had no choice but to grow up and be an adult. “And has that changed?”
Sighing, Jesse looked increasingly uncomfortable. “I want to say yes. Since my father issued his ultimatum, I have not indulged in alcohol or been in a fight. Even before that, I’ve never struck a woman. My last fight was even to protect a woman’s honor. But I’m afraid I’m still making decision that reflect my own selfishness. Had I been more considerate, perhaps I could have spared your feelings and the scene with my father.”
Faith looked into his eyes, drawn by their depths of gray. “’Why me, Jesse? It would have been so much easier to choose a wife from Morganton? What do I have to offer?”
“Everything.”