“Yes!” Cat fist-punched the air.
“Nope,” Ben countered, “two weeks. That’s more than enough time to plan a small, catered affair for family in my backyard like we discussed, Tess, so there’s no reason to wait. It’ll be perfect.”
“Two weeks?” Tess whirled to gape at him.
“It does make sense, Mom,” Jack said, “getting married and settled in before the holidays hit, which are always crazy enough without a wedding in the mix.”
Tess’s smile took a left. “Et tu, Brute?”
Jack grinned. “Face it, Mom—we’re all going to feel a whole lot better when you’re happily married and life settles down.”
“Especially me,” Ben murmured against her hair, his gentle massage of her shoulders reminding her of all the benefits in store. “And I’ll even pay Shan the fifty dollars.”
“Well, that settles it, then!” Cat checked her phone calendar. “Saturday, October 1st sound okay?” A grin suddenly slid across her face. “And, hey, guess what? This is a calendar app that lists all the special days of the year, and you’ll never believe what October 1st is!”
Tess glanced at Ben, mouth skewing to the left. “National Arm-twisting Day?”
“Nope.” Cat glanced up, eyes twinkling. “National Homemade Cookies Day.” She put a hand over her heart. “It’s a sign!”
“No kidding?” Ben grinned ear-to-ear, bending to deposit a kiss to Tess’s cheek. “I’d say it’s a done deal, then, Tess, wouldn’t you?”
Tess rolled her eyes, unable to suppress a chuckle. “Do I have a choice?”
“No!” the entire table shouted in unison, including Davey and his Power Rangers.
Tess shook her head, a smile breaking through when she realized this was what she’d wanted all along, if not compelled to give her family time to adjust. Releasing a heady sigh of surrender, she patted Ben’s sandpaper cheek with a tender smile. “I didn’t think so.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
It shouldn’t be this way. Despite a joyous engagement, a heady sea breeze, and a melon moon hovering over a river shimmering with stars, Shannon couldn’t fully enjoy the beauty of the night.
Because of Sam.
Carefully picking her way down the stone pathway to their dock where Ben and her mom had been shooed during dishes and cleanup, Shannon was grateful the newly engaged couple would be by themselves. Lacey and Jack had gone home, and Davey and Cat had long since gone to bed, so Shannon hoped an hour and a half of alone time was enough for the two people whose advice she desperately needed. She hadn’t wanted to discuss Sam with Jack because the two men had become too close as friends, and Shannon wanted more objectivity to the counsel she sought. Right now, she needed wisdom forged through experience, and nobody had dealt with trust issues in a relationship more than her mother and Ben.
Squinting down the moonlit ramp, she was relieved to see two Adirondack chairs facing the water, linked by a single clasp of hands. With a final prayer for wisdom, she made a point of rattling the ramp as she walked, the whisper of swaying marsh grasses urging her on. “Mom?”
Two heads turned, silhouettes of surprise against a harvest moon. “Shan?” A hint of worry threaded her mother’s tone as she pivoted all the way in her chair to watch Shannon’s approach. “Everything all right?”
“Yes,” Shannon whispered, apology lacing her words. “And then again, no.”
Ben immediately rose. “Here, Shannon, take my chair. It’s getting late, and I should head home.”
“No, please, Ben, don’t. I actually would like your opinion on something as well as my mom’s—the male perspective, if you will.” She started to drag another chair over, but he quickly picked it up and set it down next to her mother’s before returning to his own seat.
“What’s this about, sweetheart?” her mother said softly, rubbing Shannon’s arm with a tenderness that never failed to soothe.
Feet tucked beneath her, Shannon slanted back in her chair, arms resting on its sides while she stared at the moon-ribboned river. “It’s about Sam, Mom,” she whispered, giving her mother’s hand a gentle squeeze before facing her with a timid gaze. “I … haven’t mentioned this before, because I didn’t want to worry you, but I have” —a lump bobbed in her throat as she forced the words out on a rasp— “strong feelings for Sam.”
Her mother stared for several seconds while her chest rose and fell in a silent sigh. “I wondered, sweetheart, because Jack warned me that Sam could charm a bird out of a tree.”
A rusty chuckle slipped from Shannon’s lips as she stared out over the water. “Yes, well, he certainly charmed this bird, no matter how hard she clung to that stupid tree.”
“Oh, honey, I am so very sorry.” Her mother leaned in to bundle Shannon in her arms, causing tears to prick at the back of Shannon’s lids. “Does Sam know?”
Shannon nodded. “He does now. I told him last night.” She nibbled the edge of her lip as she pulled away to peek up at her mom. “Right after he told me he broke it off with Jasmine because he has feelings for me.”
Tess’s lips parted in a surprised smile. “Seriously? Well, honey, that’s wonderful news!” She paused, obviously noting the troubled look on Shannon’s face. “Isn’t it?”
“For most women, I suppose,” she whispered, her mouth tipping off-center, “but you and I both know that when it comes to being in love, I’m no longer ‘most women.’”
Tess gently brushed the hair from Shannon’s eyes, ducking to offer a tender smile. “Honey, what happened with Eric is in the past, and God has redeemed both it and you.”
Shannon blinked hard to clear the threat of tears. “I know,” she whispered, “and I truly believe that, I do. But—”
“You’re afraid.” Tess stared her down, lips pursed in mother mode over the damage that had been done to her daughter.
Shannon nodded. “Petrified. What happened with Eric almost destroyed me, Mom.” Her mother’s face swam before her in a blur of tears, and she fought the rise of a sob. “I can’t go there again, ever. It would kill me.”
“No, it wouldn’t, sweetheart.” Tess gently laid her hand over Shannon’s, the glow of love in her eyes a balm to Shannon’s soul. “You’re no longer that woman, Shannon. I’ve watched your faith grow to invincible heights as your dependence has grown on an invincible God.”
Shannon sniffed, offering a nod of thanks to Ben when he produced a fresh handkerchief from his pocket. “Then why don’t I feel like it?”
Tess smiled, briefly massaging Shannon’s shoulder before settling back in her own chair. “Because you’re focusing on your strength instead of God’s, Shan, which we all know from painful experience, is no strength at all.” She paused, head tilted in contemplation. “Which, in fact, is actually the perfect place to be for a person of faith.”
Shannon slid her mother a sideways smile. “‘For when I am weak, then I am strong’”?
“Exactly,” Tess said with a heft of her chin. “God sure nailed St. Paul and each of us to the wall when He said, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness,’ because frankly, Shan, we human beings flat-out don’t like being weak.” Tess paused to graze a gentle hand to her daughter’s cheek. “But the truth is, it’s that very weakness—that futility and failure, that utter despair—that brings us to the bottom line.” Her smile quirked. “Finally letting go and letting God carry us through.”
She shifted in the chair to face Shannon. “And you know what, Shan? I saw that firsthand with you, after Eric. You were as low as a human being can go, honey, because everything you put your hope in was either gone or helpless to deliver you from the darkness in your soul. Except God.” Tears sparked in her mother’s eyes. “And it was His power that was made perfect in your weakness, sweetheart, when He opened your eyes to the reality that everything of value is in Him and only Him. You’ve always had a strong faith, Shannon, but never like now. Now your faith has been forged in fire to produce a gleaming treasure of
truth.”
Tess cradled Shannon’s hand, the shimmer of saltwater in her mother’s eyes matching her own. “And that is that no matter who, no matter what, no matter why—your peace, your joy, your hope rests only in Him, Shannon. Not in Eric. Not in Sam. And not in your own strength or anyone else’s. In Him and only Him.” She nodded to the canopy of stars overhead where a brilliant moon underscored her statement with a slash of gold glittering across the water. “The Lover of your soul, darling, Whose unfailing love—unlike Eric’s or any others’—will last forever.”
I have loved you with an everlasting love …
Heaves rising, Shannon flung herself into her mother’s arms. “I love you, Mom,” she whispered, her words thick with congestion, “and I’m so grateful for the legacy of faith that you and Daddy instilled in our family.”
“Oh, me too.” Her mother’s raspy whisper confirmed Shannon wasn’t alone in her tears.
“Here.” Shannon pushed Ben’s handkerchief into her mother’s hand. “I think you need this as much as I do.”
“You ladies keep this up, and I’m gonna need it too.” Ben’s husky tone rescued the moment, prompting a mother/daughter grin punctuated by matching sighs.
“So,” Tess said with a dab of her eyes, reverting to her transparent tone that said she would not let her daughter leave until every hint of fear was routed out. “Do you love Sam, sweetheart?”
Shannon expelled a weighty sigh of surrender. “Unfortunately.”
“And he loves you?” Ben asked, brows in a scrunch.
She peeked over at Ben with a chew of her lip. “I think so—he said he’s falling in love with me.”
Tess tipped her head, eyes in a squint. “Then other than your fear of relationships, which we are going to pray about,” she emphasized, “what’s the problem, sweetheart?”
Shannon plopped her head against the back of her chair, venting with a long, wavering breath. “He’s a player, Mom, or he used to be, and I guess I’m just not all that sure he can change to be a man who will love only me forever.”
Ben grunted. “Trust me—he can change. Maybe dragging his feet all the way,” he said with a tweak of Tess’s neck, “but for the right woman and with God’s help? He can do it.”
“Agreed.” Two tiny lines dug in at the bridge of Tess’s brow. “But you said he’s changed so much already, Shan, making great strides in the faith you’ve introduced him to, right?”
“Yes, he has, definitely,” she said with a slow nod. “He’s grown a lot in his faith since we’ve been friends, and he’s even gone to church a few times, but …”
“But what?” her mother asked, her gaze probing Shannon’s.
Shannon jumped up to walk off some of her restlessness, the same restlessness she saw in Sam at times when he got bored, his interest waning in things he thought would make him happy. Like all of his trappings. Scores of women. Jasmine.
Me?
“I guess I’m just not sure how capable Sam is of fully committing, whether to God or to a woman.” She moved toward the edge of the dock overlooking the water, buffing her arms as if she could somehow warm the chill that blew through her every single time she thought of Eric.
“Ours is a forever love, Shan, I promise,” he’d once told her. Only it hadn’t been, and the scars were still buried deep in her heart, begging her not to go there again.
“He’s a good man,” she continued, “but his values have been so shallow for so long that I wonder if he’s even capable of the kind of deep commitment I crave in a marriage.” She turned to face them again, shoulders and heart in a slump, both over the potential risk to her heart and telling Sam no. She gave a small shrug. “I guess I’m just not sure which way I should go.”
“You don’t trust him.” Ben’s soft comment reverberated loud in her ears.
She paused. Don’t I? She closed her eyes, and Sam’s handsome face suddenly appeared, his deep-down serious demeanor and tender smile telling her that she did trust him. With her life. He suddenly winked, and his face morphed into Eric’s, taking her stomach for a tumble.
Just not with my heart.
“I guess not,” she whispered, “at least not enough for a love that would last forever, so I suppose I have my answer.”
“Not necessarily.” Ben rose from his chair and paced the dock like Shannon had with hands in his pockets before he halted to peer up at her mother. “Tess? Did you trust me when we first fell in love?”
“Ha! Are you kidding?” She sat back with a toss of her head like he’d just asked the world’s stupidest question. “Not on your life, Dr. Doom.”
His mouth slid sideways. “A simple yes or no would have sufficed.”
Her face softened. “Come on, sweetheart—you were a widowed womanizer who shut people out with hedges and padlocks, including your only daughter. And you had about as much use for God as you did for your perky neighbor.”
His smile crooked. “Yeah, but they both got me in the end.”
Folding her hands on her stomach, Tess released a contented sigh. “Yes, we did, and it was a team effort.”
“My point exactly,” he said to Shannon, feet straddled and hands still in his pockets as he pinned her with a piercing look. “There was nobody more shallow than me, Shannon, and if it hadn’t been for the prayer and persistence of a perky and pesky neighbor poking her nose into my life, I would have never known the depth of love I know today. Not only with God and your mother, but with her family and mine.”
Hope flickered in Shannon’s heart. “So you’re saying I should give Sam a chance?”
“What I’m saying is,” he said quietly, “I believe change is possible for any man who opens his heart up to God. Jack’s told me a little about Sam’s history, and like Sam, I never knew real love either—the kind that lasts forever—until the day your mother introduced me to the One Who loves forever. You better believe that kind of love changes a man, Shan.” His gaze flicked to where her mother sat in the chair with tears in her eyes, the love flowing between them as strong as the current swirling down the Skidaway River. “And trust me, sweetheart—that kind of woman makes him want to love her forever.” Expelling a sigh, he returned to his chair, taking her mother’s hand in his own while his gaze connected with Shannon’s. “And if He can do that for an old grouch like me, Shannon, He can do that for Sam too.” He squeezed Tess’s hand before sending Shannon a wink. “And for you.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The end.
Unleashing a contented sigh, Shannon sank back against her headboard, legs stiff from an afternoon of furious writing to meet her deadline. She stared at the last page of Love Everlasting on her computer screen, the novel her freelance editor had talked her into ghostwriting, and a heady smile curved on her lips. No, not the end—the beginning.
Just like for Sam and me.
She closed her laptop, the story between a princess and a playboy having taken a twist she hadn’t expected, providing a fairytale ending that made her heart sing. Not unlike her relationship with Sam, she supposed, where she hoped and prayed for a fairytale ending too.
Glancing at her alarm clock, she jumped up to get ready, heart thudding that in two short hours, she and Sam would go out on their first date. She put a hand to her stomach to quell the excitement churning and headed for the shower, more than well aware that a bit of worry was in the mix too. Her feelings for Sam were stronger than she ever dreamed possible, and certainly more than she ever wanted, but her trust factor came in a poor second. As her best friend, she trusted Sam with her life. But as a man who held her heart—and her life—in his hands? She fought off a cold ripple of concern that rained down along with the cold water in the shower.
Not so much.
Putting on the finishing touches of makeup she seldom wore, Shannon heard the doorbell ring, and grabbed her purse. She compelled herself to descend the steps far more slowly than the adrenaline that surged through her veins. But when she saw Sam laughing with Cat and her mom
in the foyer, her tendons went limp at the back of her knees. Flashing a dimpled grin, he could have walked right off the runway in a tightly tailored charcoal fitted suit with a mauve silk tie, hands leisurely in his pockets as he towered over Cat and her mom. And when those deep umber eyes glanced up to connect with hers, she thought she might swoon, never more grateful for the banister that helped her stay up.
“Wow.” That’s all he said as she met him at the door, but his look of stark approval said far more, dusting her cheeks with a warmth that did a slow spiral throughout her entire body.
She didn’t even notice the flowers until Cat waved a long florist box in her face, dropping her jaw when her mother also held out a gold two-pound box of Godiva chocolates. “Oh, Sam, you didn’t have to do this,” she whispered, opening the floral box to reveal a dozen red roses.
He gave a shrug that came off more as an awkward schoolboy than a seasoned player. “Sure I did, Shan,” he said, the husky tenor of his voice assuring her he meant every word. “First dates should be special.” His eyes held an intensity that purled heat in her middle. “Especially when the girl is as special as you.”
From that moment on, the evening had been a whirl of wonder. Sam spoiled her rotten with dinner at Savannah’s finest restaurant followed by dancing at a trendy club, all culminating with a decadent dessert at Lulu’s. They’d wined, they’d dined, they’d laughed, they’d cried, all the while Sam treating her like a goddess for six incredible hours. Which produced more tingles than any romance novel she ever read or could write. Smiling, she released a satisfied sigh as he regaled her with a darling story about the flu-shot debacle with the Brinker twins.
Thank you, Lord, for the best night of my life!
The Vette veered onto her street, and her pulse surged till she thought she might faint.
Uh … and the most nerve-wracking! Because laughing and talking with Sam Cunningham was one thing, the easiest thing in the world for her to do. But the kisses that were sure to follow her evening of bliss? Shannon fought a gulp as Sam eased his car into her driveway. She was more nervous than a sixteen-year-old on a first date—hands clammy and the skin beneath her silk halter dress just as bad. When he finally turned off the car and angled her way, she was hyperventilating so fast, she prayed she wouldn’t pass out.