“You’re quiet tonight,” she said.
Doug looked at Nina as they danced. “Just thinking how happy the bride and groom look.”
“They’ll have a great marriage. In sickness and health—that’s important.”
Her words jarred him. Was Nina sick? Is that why she said marriage for her was impossible? Possibilities spiraled in his mind, but he didn’t pursue them. “They’ll make tremendous parents. You know, a guy at work told me that no one’s prepared for parenthood. It’s learn as you go.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you you’re wonderful with Kimmy. You should be a dad. You’re the sweetest man I know.”
He saw sadness slip across her face. “Don’t you want to have a child?”
She hesitated…only a second…but he caught it. “Very much.”
So why did she pause?
He had to find out. But he knew pushing her would make her put up a wall. Instead, he’d be patient.
The woman in his arms was worth waiting for.
GAIL GAYMER MARTIN is a multi-award-winning novelist and writer of contemporary Christian fiction with fifty-five published novels and four million books sold. CBS News listed her among the four best writers in the Detroit area. Gail is a cofounder of American Christian Fiction Writers, a keynote speaker at women’s events, and she presents workshops at writers’ conferences. She lives in Michigan. Visit her at gailgaymermartin.com. Write to her online or at PO Box 760063, Lathrup Village, MI, 48076.
Many thanks to the helpful residents and store employees who answered questions and welcomed me to Owosso, Michigan, the setting of this novel series. Much love to my husband, Bob, who supports me in this career in a multitude of loving ways. He is my inspiration for the love, joy and faith found in my novels.
Chapter One
“Why did I say yes?”
Nina Jerome looked out her front window at the neighbors toting folding tables and chairs or picnic tables for their annual end-of-summer block party. She’d tried to refuse the invitation, but her neighbor Angie Turner wouldn’t listen, and Angie didn’t give up.
Retracing her steps to the kitchen, she opened her refrigerator and eyed her pasta salad. It looked a bit bland so she sprinkled sliced ripe olives and slivers of red peppers on top for color. She would attend whether she wanted to or not so no one would think of her as antisocial.
She shrugged. Who would care? In the few months she’d lived on Lilac Circle, she’d gotten to know very few people, but she preferred it that way. Or did she? “Face it, Nina. You can’t be a recluse. You need to meet your neighbors.” She spoke aloud to herself, and then chuckled. She had become a master of having great conversations with herself—or should she question her sanity?
The sound of the doorbell drew her from the kitchen. When she opened the door, she wasn’t surprised. “Hi, Angie. I—”
“You’re joining us, aren’t you?” Technically it was a question, but Angie’s expression was only allowing one answer.
“I sure am.” She tried to brighten her voice. “I just put some finishing touches on my salad. It’s ready.” She opened the front door wider.
Angie stepped in. “Can I help you carry something? You don’t need a table. You can share ours, but you might want a lawn chair.”
Nina motioned for Angie to follow her to the kitchen. Angie carried her salad, and she grabbed a lawn chair in one hand and a plate of cookies in the other.
Angie led the way across the street and down the block. Cars lined her end of the street where they’d been moved to make space for the food tables.
Angie’s soon-to-be stepdaughter, Carly, played on their front lawn with three other children. One girl, Nina suspected, was the niece of the single guy she’d heard about. It was probably that information which had discouraged her from attending the event.
When she’d first met Angie and admitted she was divorced, Angie had mentioned the single man who was caring for his young niece. Nina sensed an ulterior motive, and any reference to matchmaking stopped her cold. She’d had enough of men. Todd had walked out of their marriage at the worst time in her life without an apology or even an attempt to offer a sensible explanation. She had to provide one for herself. And she didn’t like what she’d come up with.