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Authors: Gail Gaymer Martin

BOOK: Loving Care
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“What do you think?” Patrick asked.

“I love it. It has the charm of an older house, yet it’s been modernized. It’s perfect.”

“Perfect?” He gave her a smile, remembering her need for perfection. “I thought so, too.”

She grinned, obviously recognizing his wisecrack.

He closed the distance between them and guided her to the large bay window overlooking the snowy backyard. “I can see a swing and slide in that corner.”

“Sean will love it.”

“They all will.”

“They?” Her gaze caught his as a frown settled on her face. “Who’s they?”

“All of the children.”

“Do you mean…no,” she said.

He nodded. “Yes, that’s what I mean.” His pulse kicked into a gallop. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

She pivoted around looking at the family room. “It’s wonderful, Patrick, but I don’t know. I’m not sure I need all this space.”

His heart fell as he watched concern spread across her face.

“But we’ll have other children, Christie. I realize you have endo—”

She drew her hands up to her face, her deep laugh filling the silence.

Her action startled him, and he felt a puzzled frown grow on his face. “Don’t you understand?”

She peeked at him through her fingers and shook her head. “I thought you wanted me to buy this for Loving Care.”

“Loving Care?” He pulled her hands from her face and pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. “No. I had something else in mind. Us. You and me and Sean and other children—however many God blesses us with.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “You want to buy this home for us.” She placed her hand over her heart, then laid her other palm against his chest, feeling his heart beat as wildly as her own.

“If you’ll have us.” He searched her eyes for an answer, a prayer rising. “I love you, Christie. I never stopped. I just veered off course a little.”

“You said you believed the Lord did things for
His purpose. I believe that. He’s had us in His loving care for so long just waiting for the day to bring us back together again.”

“Then, you mean yes?” Patrick said, holding her so close he felt her heart beating against his.

She raised her hands and cradled his face in her palms. “Yes, with all my heart.”

His lips met hers, soft and warm, like coming home. He held her close, remembering so many things they shared—her frame fitting against him like the piece of a puzzle lost but now found.

Her soft sigh greeted his ears, and he deepened the kiss, knowing that trust took time, but they had God on their side. Everything would be all right from now on.

 

“Happy birthday, dear Christie. Happy birthday to you.”

Christie grinned, seeing her parents standing around the Hanuman table singing “Happy Birthday.” Sean’s healthy presence added to her joy.

Christie blew out the candles with Sean’s help. He giggled, and she gave him a big hug, loving the feel of the child in her arms. If he was all God planned for her, she could live with that. God saw the bigger picture. She saw only a shadow of what was to come.

“So, cut the cake already.” Wes said.

Christie took the knife and measured out the slices while Patrick dug into the ice cream carton and
plopped a scoop onto the plate for those who wanted it.

When the last piece was ready, Patrick lifted his plate in the air. “Before we fork into this cake, I have a birthday toast to make.”

“Hear! Hear!” his father said, raising his dish. “I’ve never toasted with cake, but there’s always a first time.”

“Where’s my toast,” Sean asked, studying the group with a puzzled look.

“Not toast from bread, Sean. This means a good wish.”

“A birfday wish?” Sean asked.

“Something like that.” Patrick tousled his hair and lifted his plate. “To Christie, who’s found her way back into my life. May God bless us in the years to come with complete happiness in our new lives together.”

Plates hung suspended in the air while their parents looked from one to the other with puzzled expressions.

“Does this mean…?” Emma asked.

“It means Christie has agreed to be my wife…again,” Patrick said.

Their startled silence become a clatter of good wishes, hugs and kisses. Christie’s eyes glistened with tears, and she hoisted Sean into her arms from his high chair and gave him a hug.

“So when’s the big day?” Wes asked, shaking Patrick’s hand until Christie feared it would fall off.

“We decided not to wait,” Christie said. “We’re getting married New Year’s Eve.”

Patrick slid his arm around her shoulder, cherishing every moment together. “It seemed appropriate. A new year and a new beginning.”

“I’m so happy,” Emma said, tears running down her smooth cheeks. “God’s answered my prayer.”

Christie grinned. “After all your lectures?” She gave Sean a squeeze and shifted him into Patrick’s arms.

Patrick held Sean against his chest, praising God for the miracles—his father’s good health, Sean’s recovery and Christie’s love.

Wes gave them a knowing grin. “You know your mother. She lectures and then she prays.”

Chuckles filled the room until Joe stepped forward and gave Christie a bear hug. “I couldn’t be happier. You were always a good daughter-in-law, and I’m grateful God’s seen fit to bring you two back together.”

“Amen to that,” Emma said. She moved closer to Sean. “Do you understand, Sean? Your daddy is going to marry Christie.”

“We’ve been practicing,” Patrick said. He nuzzled his son against his chin before giving Sean a nod.

The child giggled, then drew in a deep breath. “Chwistie is gonna be my new mommy.”

Patrick looked at his son with pride, then at the others who stood around them with misted eyes.
Nothing—not the past or the losses he’d experience—nothing could hold back the complete joy that he felt.

“I love you,” Christie whispered. “Both of you, with all my heart.”

Chapter Seventeen

T
he band played a love song, and Christie swayed in Patrick’s arms. Through the window of the Bay Breeze dining room, she could see lights flicker on the frozen shore of the lake. In moments, fireworks would ring in the new year.

The song ended, and Patrick guided her off the dance floor, then excused himself to get her a drink, looking handsome in his dark suit and tie.

Jemma stepped to her side and grasped her hand. “Your wedding was beautiful. Simple, but elegant.”

“Thanks,” Christie said, still amazed that she and Patrick were husband and wife once more. “I’m so glad Philip let us use the resort for our little reception.”

“He’d have it no other way.” She kissed Chris
tie’s cheek, but before she moved off, Patrick reappeared with a drink and dangled a key.

“What’s that?”

“The penthouse suite.”

“Penthouse?”

Jemma laughed. “It was our living quarters before we moved. Now, Philip uses it for special occasions. It’s our gift to you.”

“Gift?” Christie said, eyeing Jemma then Patrick.

He nodded. “Philip just gave me the key. He’s canceled our regular room.”

Before Christie could respond, a boom rolled across the sky, and she turned to the wall of windows, looking out on the lake and seeing the flash of color like fairy dust spiraling into the water. From the shore, fireworks burst into the sky. Neon chrysanthemums—pink and yellow petals—drifted downward to the dark water.

The band segued into “Auld Lang Syne,” and as the people sang, moving together in groups and sharing happy-new-year wishes, Patrick moved to Christie’s side, folding her into his arms and holding her close. She wanted nothing more. She closed her eyes, tears blurring her vision, praying that if she never had another child, Patrick would not grieve the loss. He loved children and deserved them.

“You’re beautiful,” Patrick whispered into her ear, swaying with the music, their eyes focused on the firework sky. “My promise today is solid, Chris
tie. I want you to know that. I won’t let you down again.”

“Till death do us part,” she said, feeling confident in their matured love. “I trust you, Patrick.”

“Those are the sweetest words,” he said. “You’ll always be in my loving care, just as the Lord has watched over us.”

His lips touched hers, tender yet urgent. She gave of herself, moving her mouth against his, loving the feel and taste of his lips. His hands caressed her back and one moved up her arm and captured her cheek. “This is loving,” he whispered, his lips beside hers, “and this is what hope and patience promises.”

She looked at him through her tears, joy filling her heart.

A jingle drew her eyes downward.

The key to the penthouse.

With her mind whirling, she stepped back and bumped into a waiter’s tray. Napkins and silverware tumbled to the floor. She grinned and bent down to retrieve them, but Patrick had bent down first. Their hands touched as they reached for the same fork, and her mind sailed back to months earlier in the pharmacy.

Patrick cupped her hand in his. “Haven’t we met somewhere before?”

She nodded, her heart thundering with the remembrance.

Patrick rose and took her hand to help her rise.
He gathered the napkins and silverware and dropped them on the tray. “Ready?”

She nodded, her heart ready to explode. Ready? Yes. Ready to open her heart and arms, to give of herself and never hold back again. God had opened her eyes to the true meaning of love—a love that forgives, a love that endures hardships, a love that never ends.

Patrick guided her across the floor, saying goodbye as they exited. In the hall, they moved down the corridor to the penthouse elevator, pushed the button, and when the door opened they stepped inside, their lives woven as tightly together as their fingers.

Patrick’s hand trembled as he turned the key in the lock. The door swung open to an elegant foyer and ahead of them, a stretch of windows letting in the night sky and the fireworks finale.

They stood a moment, watching the last ember drop into the dark water, then made their way down another hallway to the master suite.

Patrick noted that Philip had sent up their luggage. He’d thought of everything. Two fluted glasses sat on the night stand beside a bottle of sparkling fruit juice. He uncorked the bottle and filled the goblets, then offered Christie hers. When she grasped the stem, he raised his glass. “This is to us. To a new beginning. To a blessed life.”

She took a sip and moved forward, her soft pink gown shining with iridescent beads.

He set his flute on the night stand and drew her into his arms. Their lips met, fitting as perfectly together as if they were meant to be.

She eased back and gazed into his eyes with a shyness he hadn’t expected.

“Go ahead,” he said, tilting his head toward the bathroom. “You first.”

She snapped open her luggage and drew out a rustle of white filmy cloth, so gossamer it took Patrick’s breath away. He remembered their first wedding night filled with innocent intimacy. Tonight was no different.

With his back to the door, Patrick stared into the night sky. The Lord had provided His own fireworks—a full moon and a sparkling array of stars. He found the north star, a small steady light that guided sailors home. Tonight he was home.

He heard the door open, and Christie stepped into the room. She glided toward him like a dream—a dream he’d had since the day they met in the pharmacy.

He opened his arms to her, feeling the slippery cloth beneath his hands. He drew his palm down her arm. God had given him the gift. The Lord had meant them to be husband and wife, and his sin was washed clean in God’s saving grace.

“Patrick,” she said, her voice as soft as a whisper.

He kissed her hair and waited.

“I don’t want to disappoint you. I know you want more children, and I can’t promise—”

“We made one promise today, my love. To have and to hold from this day forward. That’s all the promise I need.”

“But…I’d love to have a child. You know that,” she said. “A playmate for Sean.”

“I didn’t say we wouldn’t try, Christie. I’m here. You’re here. God’s beside us, and with his blessing, miracles can happen.”

His lips met hers, and with his kiss, he sealed the promise. What more could he ask? God’s blessing had brought him home to Loving, had brought Christie’s love back into his life. His prayer rose.
Lord, I ask one more blessing, but this one for Christie. A child. A child of her own.

Like the fireworks that brightened the sky, his heart filled with light as he drew Christie into his arms, his prayer still on his lips and in his heart.

ISBN: 978-1-4592-0714-1

LOVING CARE

Copyright © 2004 by Gail Gaymer Martin

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

This edition published by arrangement with Steeple Hill Books.

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