âIf I help Stacy, youâre going to owe me big-time. You will cooperate with my plans for Nolie and Gabeâs wedding.â Claire was confident she knew what they wanted.
Brendan held out his hand for Claire to shake, his face serious but with a smile lurking in those changeable eyes. âOnly if they agree. Thatâs the other part of our deal.â
âFine. Theyâll agree.â
âI told Stacy youâd be at the church tonight around nine.â He got off her desk. âAnd weâre having dinner with Nolie and Gabe at the Flanagan house at six. We can find out then what kind of wedding they really want.â
She glared at him. âFor a minister youâre something of an opportunist, you know that?â
He grinned. âFor a businesswoman, youâre something of a do-gooder, Ms. Delaney. Maybe we bring out the best in each other.â
âOr the worst.â
He headed for the door. âI guess weâll find out, wonât we?â
has written everything from Sunday school curriculum to travel articles to magazine stories in twenty years of writing, but she feels sheâs found her home in the stories she writes for Love Inspired.
Marta lives in rural Pennsylvania, but she and her husband spend part of each year at their second home in South Carolina. When sheâs not writing, sheâs probably visiting her children and her beautiful grandchildren, traveling, or relaxing with a good book.
Marta loves hearing from readers and sheâll write back with a signed bookplate or bookmark. Write to her c/o Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001 New York, NY 10279, e-mail her at [email protected], or visit her on the Web at www.martaperry.com.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend
on your own understanding. Seek His will in all you do and He will direct your paths.
âProverbs 3:5â6
This story is dedicated to Alice Dyne, with love
and thanks for all she does for others. And, as always, to Brian.
Dear Reader,
Iâm so glad you decided to pick up this book and I hope my story touched your heart. The faith struggle Claire and Brendan went through on their way to a happy ending meant a lot to me.
I found it fun to relive the excitement and stress of planning a wedding. I donât think thereâs anyone who doesnât have a story to tell of all the things that went wrong!
I hope youâll write and let me know how you liked this story. Address your letter to me at Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279, and Iâll be happy to send you a signed bookplate or bookmark. You can also visit me on the Web at www.martaperry.com, or e-mail me at [email protected].
Blessings,
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
âYouâre wrong, thatâs all.â Claire Delany had a fleeting doubt about speaking that way to a minister, but dismissed it. No clerical collar would deter her from saying what she thought.
Not that Brendan Flanagan was wearing a clerical collar. She glanced at him as he held the door and then followed her from the church gym into a hallway that had classrooms on either side. Gray sweatpants and a navy sweatshirt, battered sneakers, disheveled chestnut brown hair tumbling onto his forehead. Only a hint of gravity in his lean face and hazel eyes suggested that he had anything more serious than a game of basketball on his mind.
âMaybe I am wrong.â Brendanâs voice, a baritone rumble, was mild. âBut when Gabe asked me to officiate, I understood him to say they wanted a small, quiet wedding with no fuss.â
âGabe may have said thatââ she tried the no-non-sense voice she was known for at work ââbut I know what kind of wedding Nolie has dreamed of all her life. I donât want her to give up her dream wedding just because theyâre so busy right now with the new project.â
The grant her best friend had recently received would let Nolie and Gabe expand their service animal project to many more disabled people. She understood how important that was, but Nolie shouldnât have to sacrifice having a memorable wedding because of it.
Brendan came to a halt next to a bulletin board covered with orange and yellow construction paper leaves, printed with what she supposed were childrenâs names. She stopped, too, swinging to face him. He was tall, like all the Flanagan men, and even the two-inch heels she wore for work didnât give her enough height to confront him.
He was probably good at intimidating with his height, those keen eyes and that air of authority that went along with being a minister, but she wasnât going to let him force his views onto her, no matter how self-assured he was.
âNolie is my closest friend,â she said firmly. âIf she doesnât have the time right now to handle the wedding arrangements, then Iâll be happy to take care of them for her.â
Brendan raised an eyebrow. âGabe is my cousin as well as my friend and parishioner. And I intend to listen to what he says they want.â