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Her Single Dad Hero Page 19


  Ann put her head back and laughed at that. Wes dug into his coat pocket, producing a small, velvet-covered box. “Here. You’re going to need these. My gift to the two of you.”

  Dean just stood there, so dumbfounded that Ann had to prompt him to take the box. He popped open the hinged lid. Two narrow gold bands nestled inside.

  “Perfect,” Ann pronounced, a catch in her throat. “It’ll go well with my engagement ring.” She took a moment to show that off, Callie and Meredith oohing and aahing appropriately while Dean wrapped his mind around the fact that he was about to get married. Married!

  “And this is my gift,” Meredith said, bringing out a bouquet of mixed white flowers tied with gold ribbon.

  “They’re exactly right,” Ann said, hugging her sister, tears in her eyes.

  “My gift,” Rex announced, “mine and Callie’s, is a suite at the Luxury Hotel here in the city through Friday evening.”

  “Convenient,” Ann said, grinning. “That’s an LHI hotel. I’ll be able to tender my resignation right after we check in.”

  “Let’s move, people,” Wes ordered in a husky voice, “before my meds wear off. That chaplain’s not going to wait forever.”

  “Believe it or not, he said he’s done this kind of thing before,” Meredith told them.

  “Donovan, come with Grandpa.” Wes beckoned. Beaming, Donovan ran to clasp onto Wes’s chair. Dean saw that his son wore his best dress pants and a white shirt. A necktie had been tucked into his back pocket.

  Married! He was about to get married! And have Ann all to himself until Saturday morning.

  Laughing, Dean caught the suitcase Rex shoved at him.

  Dean shook his head and winked at Ann, smiling. “Just so you know, I love you enough to completely overlook your crazy family.” She laughed, beaming. “And just so you know,” he said to the grinning about-to-be brother-in-law at his side, “harvesting and hay-baling don’t come free. I’m running a business here, and I have a growing family to support.”

  Rex laughed, shoving him through the door. “We’ll negotiate.”

  “We will,” Dean allowed. “And family does get discounts.”

  What, after all, was business between brothers?

  Especially to a man whose every dream had been fulfilled and every prayer answered?

  Epilogue

  It was a wedding like no other Wes had ever attended. The tiny chapel with its backlit stained glass and few pews contained no altar or dais, only a simple cross upon the wall. No music played. No guests other than the immediate family attended. Then again, his daughter made a bride like no other.

  Dressed in shiny gold and white, she looked like a million bucks. Meredith acted as bridesmaid. Rex pushed Wes in his chair at Ann’s side then moved to stand next to Dean and Donovan, who held the rings and could barely contain his excitement. Dean wore almost exactly what Rex had worn for his wedding, dark jeans, black boots, white shirt, black jacket and a string tie. He looked more prone to tears than the bride.

  The chaplain kept it simple, leading them both through their vows. Within very few minutes, they were at the point of pronouncement, when Dean suddenly lifted a hand as if to bring a halt to the whole proceeding.

  “Oh, my word, Jolly!” he said, clapping his hand to his face, the newly installed gold ring on his fourth finger gleaming in the canned light. “I just realized. Sweetheart, you weren’t being stupid. You did just what you were supposed to. Think about it. You are a beautiful, talented, intelligent, loving woman. It was a plan to keep some guy from snapping you up while God worked on me. He put you in a safe place and kept you there until the time was right. Until now. For me. For us.”

  Wes had no idea what that was all about, but Ann certainly did. Lifting her hands to Dean’s shoulders, she sniffed back tears and tremulously said, “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “What a gift!” Dean exclaimed, pulling her close, his big hands at her trim waist. “I’ll never deserve it, but I’ll always be thankful for it, and I’ll love you until my dying breath.”

  If Wes had had any doubts about this marriage, they would have vanished on the spot.

  Ann wrapped her arms around Dean’s neck and went up on tiptoe to kiss him.

  The chaplain chuckled and said, “A little premature, but appropriate. I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

  Everyone applauded and wiped at their tears. Wes gulped down the nausea rising within him and tried not to shiver. Meredith noticed, however, and hurried to hand Ann her bouquet and come for him, picking up a blanket from the front pew as she did so. A blanket in the middle of August. Wes wanted to rage as Meri draped it about his shoulders, but then Donovan grinned at him and waved, posing with his parents as cell phone photos were snapped, and the rage dissipated beneath the weight of his blessings.

  Not long ago Wes had feared that he might not live long enough to be a grandpa; now he had two grandchildren, and two of his children had come home to stay. God was good.

  For a while now, Wes had wondered why he labored so at Straight Arrow Ranch. For what? For whom? With Gloria gone and his children uninterested in the family concern, the years had begun to seem pointless, but even if God chose not to heal him from this cancer, Wes would forever be thankful that he had lived long enough to see the plan that God had set into motion for his family.

  Was it selfish and foolish of him to hope that his youngest child, the one with whom he had the least in common, might also find her way home to stay? She deserved to have more in her life than a spoiled cat.

  He told himself that he would be thankful for the time that he and Meredith had together. He would be thankful, but he would also pray. It was a father’s privilege and responsibility to pray for his child.

  And prayer, as he knew well, availed a man much.

  So very much.

  * * * * *

  If you loved this story,

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  THE PRODIGAL RANCH

  THE RANCHER’S HOMECOMING

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  THE DOCTOR’S PERFECT MATCH

  THE BACHELOR MEETS HIS MATCH

  HIS IDEAL MATCH

  BUILDING A PERFECT MATCH

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  Dear Reader,

  Misunderstandings fuel many of life’s problems and decisions. A lack of solid information can have devastating effects on our beliefs, attitudes and actions. Yet, God can use even that to our benefit—and His—when we are surrendered to Him.

  Saul misunderstood Who Christ is and the very nature of Christianity. As a result, Saul made some bad decisions and serious mistakes. After he met Jesus on the road to Damascus and learned the full truth, God changed him into Paul and used his past mistakes as a powerful witness, taking Christianity to the gentile world. What a blessing!

  We make mistakes. We misunderstand at times and let that color our thoughts and actions. But take heart. Ann and Dean’s story illustrates that, when we belong to Him, God is always at work in our lives. He can turn misunderstandings and mistakes into blessings!

  God bless you!

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  The Soldier and the Single Mom

  by Lee Tobin McClain

  Chapter One

  It was 2:00 a.m. on a mild March night when Buck Armstrong saw his dead wife walking toward the town of Rescue River, Ohio, carrying their baby on one hip.

  He swerved, hit the brakes and skidded onto the gravel berm. On the seat beside him, Crater—his chosen companion for the night—let out a yip.

  Buck passed his hand over his eyes. It wasn’t real—couldn’t be. He’d made similar mistakes before, when he was tired, when the war memories came back too strong. Tonight, driving home from assisting in an emergency surgery out at the dog rescue, he wanted nothing more than to keep driving past the turnoff to the liquor store, lock himself in his room and shut it all off until morning.

  He looked again, squinting through the moonlit fog.

  They were still there. But they were running away from him, or rather, his wife was. Baby Mia was gone.

  Where was the baby? He scrambled out of the truck, leaving the door ajar. “Stay!” he ordered the dog automatically as he took off toward his wife. “Ivana! Wait!”

  She ran faster, but Buck had gotten back into military shape since he’d quit drinking, and he caught up easily. Was relieved to see that the baby was now in front of her, in some sort of sling.

  His hand brushed against her soft hair.

  She screamed, spun away from him, and he saw her face.

  It wasn’t his wife, but someone else. A complete stranger.

  He stopped, his heart pounding triple time. Sweat formed on his forehead as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m sorry. I thought you were—”

  “Leave us alone,” she ordered, stepping away, one arm cradled protectively at the back of the baby’s head, the other going to her oversize bag. “I have a gun.”

  “Whoa.” He took a couple of steps back, hands lifting to shoulder height, palms out. A giant stone of disappointment pressed down on him. “I don’t mean you any harm. I thought you were... Never mind.”

  A breeze rattled the leaves of a tall oak tree beside the road. He caught the rich scent of newly turned earth, plowed dirt, fields ready for planting. Up ahead, a spotlight illuminated the town’s well-known sign, kept up and repainted yearly since Civil War days: Rescue River, Ohio. All Are Welcome, All Are Safe.

  Ivana had been so proud of their hometown’s history as a station on the Underground Railroad, its reputation for embracing outsiders of all types, races and creeds.

  The good people of Rescue River had even put up with the damaged man he’d been when he’d returned from war, until he’d repeatedly broken their trust.

  “Go back to your truck,” the woman ordered, hand still in her bag. Now that he could see her better, he realized she was sturdier than Ivana had been, with square shoulders and a determined set to her chin. Same long tawny hair, but fuller lips and big gray-blue eyes that were now glaring at him. “Do it. Back in the truck, now.”

  He should do what she said, should turn around right now and get on home before the memories that were chasing him caught up.

  Should, but when had he ever done what he should? “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night, ma’am? Can I give you a ride somewhere?”

  She laughed without humor, shaking her head. “No way, buddy. Just drive away. We’ll all be better off.”

  He had to admire her courage if not her common sense. There was no good reason for a woman with a baby to be wandering the countryside, but she was acting as if she owned the whole state.

  “Sure you don’t want me to call someone?” Truth was, he felt relieved. He could go home and crash and try to forget that, just for a minute, he’d gotten the crazy hope that Ivana and the baby were still alive, that he’d get a second chance to love them the way they deserved.

  “We’re fine.” She ran a hand through her hair and patted the baby who, somehow, still slept against her chest. He caught sight of wispy hair, heard that sweet, nestling-in sigh of a contented little one.

  Pain stabbed his heart.

  She did seem fine, perfectly able to defend herself, he argued against the faint whisper of chivalry that said he shouldn’t let a woman and child stay out here in the middle of the night. After all, he wasn’t much of a protector. He’d lost as many people as he’d saved in Afghanistan. And as for Ivana and Mia...

  The sound of a mournful howl silenced his thoughts. Crater. “It’s okay, buddy,” he called, and the scarred rottweiler bounded out of the truck’s cab. As Crater jumped up on him, Buck rubbed the dog’s sides and let him lick his face and, for the first time since seeing the woman, he felt his heart rate settle.

  “Let’s go home,” he said to the dog. But Crater had different ideas, and he lunged playfully toward the woman and baby. Buck snapped his fingers and the dog sank into a sitting position, looking back toward him. The deep scar on the dog’s back, for which they’d named him out at the rescue, shone pale in the moonlight.

  “That’s a well-trained dog.” The woman cocked her head to one side.

  “He’s a sweetheart. Come on, boy.”

  The dog trotted to his side, and as they started back to his truck, Buck felt his heart rate calm a little more. Yeah, his shrink was right: he was a prime candidate for a service dog. Except he couldn’t make the commitment. As soon as he’d paid off his debts and made amends where he could, he was out of here, and who knew whether he’d end up in a dog-friendly place?

  “Hey, hold on a minute.” The woman’s voice was the slightest bit husky.

  He turned but didn’t walk back toward her. Didn’t look at her. It hurt too much. She was still a reminder of Ivana and all he’d lost. “What?”

  “Maybe you could give us a hand. Or a ride.”

  Buck drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “Okay, sure,” he said, trying not to show his reluctance to be in her company a moment longer. After all, he’d made the offer, so courtesy dictated he should follow through. “Where are you headed?”

  “That’s a good question,” she said, lifting the baby a little to take the weight off her chest.
<
br />   He remembered Ivana doing that very same thing with Mia. He swallowed.

  “What kind of a town is Rescue River?”

  “It’s a real nice town.” It was, too. He’d consider staying on there himself if he hadn’t burned so many bridges.

  “Think I could find a cheap room? Like, really cheap?”

  He cocked his head to one side. “The only motel had no vacancy, last I saw. My sister’s renovating what’s going to be a guesthouse, but it’s not open for another few months...”

  “Does she have a room that’s done, or mostly done? We don’t need much.”

  Buck wanted to lie, would have lied, except he seemed to hear Ivana’s voice in his head. Quoting Scripture, trying to coax him along the path to believing. Something about helping widows and orphans in their distress.

  This woman might or might not be a widow, but to be out walking the rural Ohio roads in the wee hours surely indicated some kind of distress.

  “She’s got a couple of rooms close to done,” he admitted.

  “Do you think she’d let me rent one?”

  He frowned. “I don’t know. Lacey’s not the most trusting person in the world. A late-night guest she isn’t expecting won’t sit well with her.”

  The comment hung between them for an awkward moment. It was the simple truth, though. Or maybe not so simple. The fact that the pretty stranger had a baby would disturb Lacey. A lot.

  The woman gave him a skeptical look, then straightened and turned away. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Squeezing his eyes shut for just a second, he turned and tried to head back toward his truck. She wasn’t his responsibility. He had enough on his plate just to keep himself together.

  Nope. Like a fool, he turned around. “Hey, wait. Come on. We’ll try to talk Lacey into letting you stay. At least for the night.”

  “That would be wonderful,” she said, a relieved smile breaking out on her face.

  Wonderful for her, maybe. Not for him. The last thing he needed was an Ivana look-alike, with a baby no less, staying one thin wall away from him.