He cradled her face in one hand. "If you were guilty of anything, I'd tell you so and we'd face it together. But believe me, I won't fail you. I won't freeze up on you."
This made her smile through her tears. "How can you be so certain that you're right? We've only known each other one season. And we've been through one crisis after another."
"Maybe that's why I'm so sure I want you to be my wife. We've been through so much together. That makes me feel like I've known you for years. I've seen you show compassion, forbearance, kindness, strength. I love you because I've seen that you are a wonderful woman."
"But—"
"You take a lot of convincing, lady." He kissed her again. "But I can keep this up all night," he teased. "In fact, it would be my pleasure."
She laughed out loud, the heaviness inside her, lifting, lifting. She kissed him, exulting in the sensation of cheek against cheek, skin against skin.
He folded her into a tight embrace. "I don't deserve you, but I'm never letting you go to Vermont... or anywhere else. God brought me back from the numbness, from being dead inside. I'm not letting you go there."
His words released her. The past tried to keep hold but she slipped free. And she luxuriated in the moment of closeness, intimacy. Tears filled her eyes. That was how she'd been feeling, numb, dead inside. But no more. "So you do understand, "she whispered. "And I can't fight you anymore."
"We've fought the truth long enough," he agreed. "Everything, everyone has tried to push us apart, but we are here together." He leaned down and kissed her forehead, urging her nearer. "Keely. I never want to be parted from you again. You open me to feeling like no one else has since I lost Sharon. But, Keely, I want to be near you." His voice thickened as he forced himself to put his love for her into words. "So much has happened to keep us upset, to separate us.
She tucked her head into the cleft between his jaw and shoulder. She wished this closeness, this embrace, could go on forever. Then she realized that it could--in a sense. "I love you, Burke Sloan, and I accept your proposal."
Hearing this, he took his time and gave her the kiss he'd been wanting to give her for over a week. He caressed her lips, drawing her deeper and deeper into the kiss, this exchange of affection, a physical sign of all he felt for this woman, this wonderful, exciting, challenging woman. "I love you, Keely Turner, and I'll thank God every day for you for the rest of my ...our life together."
Epilogue
In bright December sunshine, light, fluffy snowflakes cascaded from the sky with abandon. They reflected Keely's generous state of mind. She and Burke strolled arm in arm down the main street of LaFollette. His love surrounded her like a shield against the cold, against the harsh words about her brother that some still muttered just loud enough for her to hear.
The Day on the Town fundraiser was in full swing. Shoppers clogged the streets, laughing and calling out, "Merry Christmas!" Carolers walked along the curb, singing "Joy to the World!"
Nick and Jayleen walked on the other side of the street, Shane and Harlan behind them. Bruce and Penny pushed Rachel in a stroller while their son skipped and hopped beside them. Veda McCracken entertained herself by driving up and down the street in the brand new car Keely's father had bought her before leaving town. He'd done it to buy her silence about Grady setting fire to the Family Closet. Veda honked her horn at everyone, and even this Keely found amusing.
Old Doc met them at the jeweler's door. "Season's greetings! I hear that you have your own tidings of great joy."
Keely blushed.
"You heard right. June wedding. Everyone's invited."
Burke said, tugging her even closer to his side. "We're going to go in and buy the ring now. Waited till today so ten percent would go to the new doctor fund."
"Excellent! I hope it's a lovely ring for a lovely lady. Let me congratulate you both and wish you all the best."
Keely's parents were already in California; Grady was in a private hospital near Milwaukee. Keely prayed that he would find the help he needed there. She and Burke would visit him during the Christmas break. Keely felt sorry for Grady, but Burke's love strengthened her. She began to hum along with the carolers: "The wonders of his love, the wonders of his love!"
Burke shook Old Doc's hand. "Bet you're looking forward to that new doctor?"
"I am. She'll be here just about the time you two tie the knot."
"Great."
Old Doc chuckled. "My sentiments exactly. Old Doc out. New Doc in."
###
Dear Reader,
Families can be our greatest strength and joy and our greatest weakness and sorrow. Both Keely and Burke struggled with the issue of connection versus disconnection. Years before, Burke had disconnected from his family and now was fighting his way back to them. Keely had been fighting for her family for years and was about to give up and disconnect. In God's wonderful way, he brought them together just when they needed to see themselves in a new way, a new relationship.
I hope that you are fighting for your family and are doing whatever you can to strengthen the bonds of blood and those of love. It is never easy, but it is always a good idea. If we can't love our own family, how can we love anyone else with credibility? (1 John 2:9)
The next book in the series, Summer's End, will see the fruition of the county's years of fundraising to bring a new doctor to the clinic. But of course, nothing is ever for sure in this world or in Steadfast, Wisconsin.
Take care! God bless!
When Lyn Cote became a mother, she gave up teaching, and while raising a son and a daughter, she began working on her first novel. Rejections followed. Finally in 1997, Lyn got "the call." Her first book,
Never Alone
, was chosen for the new Love Inspired romance line. Since then, Lyn has had over thirty-five novels published. In 2006 Lyn's book,
Chloe
, was a finalist for the RITA, and in 2010 and 2011, her books Her Patchwork Family and Her Healing Ways, finaled in American Christian Fiction Writers CAROL Award, both the highest awards in the romance genre. Lyn’s brand “Strong Women, Brave Stories,” includes three elements: a strong heroine who is a passionate participant in her times, authentic historical detail and a multicultural cast of characters. Lyn also features stories of strong women both from real life and true to life fiction on her blog
http://BooksbyLynCote.com
Now living her dream of writing books at her lake cottage in northern Wisconsin, Lyn hopes her books show the power of divine as well as human love.
Here's an excerpt of the next book in the Northern Intrigue series,
Summer's End.
How
did
I get myself into this?
Kirsi Royston turned onto the state highway toward Steadfast, Wisconsin. Breeze through the open window played with the unruly hair that had escaped her long ponytail. Usually that was a carefree feeling. Today it was just irritating.
Situations change. Mine has, and the
clinic
will just
have to understand that.
Kirsi's churning stomach didn't buy that, and she turned back to watching northern Wisconsin roll by her window--thick forests, meandering rivers, and small, clear lakes.
A sign snagged her attention: State Park, Stalker Lake. Her Jeep turned off the highway as though on autopilot. She drove into the wooded park over a gravel track. She shivered. The May wind had a chill to it, especially here in the shadows of the pines. The breeze rustled the evergreen boughs, and a bird she didn't recognize called in the stillness. Feeling suddenly as though someone were watching her, she glanced around.
Her complete isolation dawned on her. This was something she rarely experienced in California. By design. Experience had taught her not to be in vulnerable situations. She shivered again. Could someone be watching her from the dense pine forest? Spooked, she backed out and returned to the highway.
Then, before she knew it, the main street of the town of Steadfast zipped by her. She slowed, U-turned, and drove the length of it again. Black Bear Cafe, the
Steadfast Times
office, Steadfast Community Church, Foodliner, and Harry's Gas Station—she let the quaint names sink into her mind, hoping they would calm her nerves.
With a ragged sigh, she turned at the sign that said Erickson Clinic. From the road, she noted the one-story, L-shaped, cement-brick building ahead. It had looked larger in the photos they'd sent her. But any rural clinic would look small compared to the clinics in LA. She drove around Erickson Clinic, which was more like a small hospital than what she'd thought of as a clinic. According to the letters she'd received, the clinic had an emergency wing with one basic operating room, a small lab, and a radiology room; one wing of patient rooms; and a helipad to airlift cases the clinic couldn't handle.
Completing the circle drive around the clinic, Kirsi parked in the lot by the emergency entrance, which was nestled in the crook of the
L,
and glanced around. Only a few vehicles were parked nearby—not a busy place on a Friday afternoon.
Pushing down her hesitation, she jumped out and headed straight inside the ER entrance.
Time to face the music.
The reception area, immediately inside, appeared deserted, but she could hear sounds . . . voices from down the hallway. She noted that there were two curtained suites off to her left in the ER wing, which made up the shorter base of the
L.
In the other direction, she glimpsed a nurses' station at the start of a hallway of rooms.
From behind the counter, a gruff voice spoke up, "Hi."
An older woman's gray head appeared. "I was picking something up off the floor. Didn't see you there. Do you need help?"
"Not really." The moment had come. Kirsi had to declare herself. Hesitating still, she offered her hand to the plump woman.
Eyeing her, the woman took Kirsi's hand and gave one strong shake. "You're a stranger. What can we do for you?"
Kirsi sized up the woman's no-nonsense face.
Get
it over
with.
"I'm Dr. Kirsi Royston—"
"The new doc?" The woman reached over the counter and claimed Kirsi's hand again, giving it another firmer shake. "I'm Ma Havlecek. I'm volunteering today, answering the phone. We're expecting an ambulance any second—"
The sound of an ambulance siren cut off the woman's words. Out of the nearest ER suite hurried a nurse with short, golden brown hair. A tall doctor with dark wavy hair followed her, rushing past Kirsi toward the doors.
From the opposite direction, a teenage boy—strapped on a gurney—was being pushed through the ER entrance. Struggling against the restraints, he spat out a string of curses. Kirsi sized the young patient up. His agitation was all too familiar to her, but surely not here? He couldn't be suffering from . . . not in rural Steadfast, Wisconsin.
Well past Kirsi, Douglas Erickson, M.D.—she recognized him now from a photo of the clinic staff she'd been sent—paused and looked back. "Dr. Royston!" he blurted out, looking surprised. But immediately, he moved on, calling back, "When did you get here?"
"Just a minute ago. I drove over a day early."
To have a day to get acquainted with you before I tell you what's changed.
She hurried to catch up with him. "I wanted a chance to look around—"
"My grandfather will be delighted that you're so eager to get started." He reached the wheeled gurney and began questioning the EMTs.
Well, yes, she was eager to get started—in spite ofeverything.As the new patient was wheeled to an examining area,Kirsi trailed Dr. Erickson. "I'll just observe you," she said,"if that's all right."
"Fine." The doctor's attention was on the writhingpatient. The EMTs hovered, waiting to release the incoherentand thrashing boy from the restraints so they could leave with their gurney. The nurse tried to soothe thepatient. No success.The teen became frenzied. Screeching. Twisting. WhenDr. Erickson tried to examine his pupils, the kid managed to butt the doctor's chest, nearly knocking him off his feet.Erickson grabbed the youngster and thrust him back down. "Wendy, did the school say anything about what thiskid was doing before this came on?" The doctor bit out thewords, interspersed between the teen's yowls.
"The principal said he was found in one of the restrooms." The nurse, Wendy, raised her voice. "From the odor in the room, she thought he'd been smoking marijuana."
With violent twists, the teen bucked against the gurney.It rocked, tipped. Wendy yelped.The gurney flipped on its side and hit the floor.
Erickson stumbled and nearly fell. The EMTs surged around the patient, righting the gurney.
"What's wrong with him?" From behind them, the receptionist shouted, "He's havin' a regular fit!"
Kirsi waited for Erickson to give the obvious answer,but he was too busy helping the paramedics lift the patientonto the ER examining table."This looks like meth to me," Kirsi said above the noise."He probably soaked the marijuana cigarette in it first."
Both Erickson and Wendy cast worried looks toward her. "We've never had a meth overdose here, " the doctor said.
The teen jerked and went limp.Erickson yelled, "He's coding!"
###
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