A week after that, Betsy was carrying two cans of ginger-ale and a sleeve of saltine crackers out to the front yard of Mark and Sophie’s house in Willow Park.

Sophie was sitting in a lawn chair on the grass, and Betsy walked over to hand the other woman the crackers and one of the ginger-ales before she sat down in the second lawn chair.

Sophie was little and dark and pretty, but her face was slightly pale now, and she murmured thanks to Betsy before she tore into the sleeve of saltines.

Betsy sipped her own ginger-ale and waited until Sophie had eaten a cracker. When the other woman looked up with a smile, Betsy asked, “You okay?”

“Yes. Fine.” Sophie took a few deep breaths. “It’s really not terrible, as long as I take preventative measures. Crackers. A lot of crackers.”

Betsy cleared her throat. “Am I… am I not supposed to be saying anything about it?”

In the two days she’d been visiting, neither Mark nor Sophie had mentioned Sophie’s condition, but it was quite obvious to Betsy that the other woman was pregnant.

Sophie gave Betsy a dimpled little smile. “We’re not announcing yet. It’s still early. You weren’t supposed to know.”

Betsy chuckled. “Let me guess. John still has no idea.”

Sophie was obviously feeling a little better because she giggled too. She shook her head. “I really think he doesn’t know, despite the fact that I throw up almost every morning and Mark treats me like I’m made of crystal.”

“Is Mark going to tell him?”

“I’ll tell him to. I don’t want him to feel bad about not knowing.”

After their private laugh at the expense of John’s occasional cluelessness, the women turned back to the basketball game going on in the driveway. It was one on one with John and Mark, and both men were breathing heavily and sweating hard as John protected the basket from Mark’s offense.

“What’s the score now?” Betsy asked.

“Still zero to zero.”

“Wow! One of them will have to make a basket eventually.”

The men had been playing now for over thirty minutes. The brothers were evenly matched—same height, same build, similar level of fitness. Betsy wasn’t surprised it was a close game, but she was surprised no one had managed to score yet.

“I think they’re both better at defense than offense,” Sophie murmured.

“I guess so.”

She watched as Mark dribbled up to the net, and then winced as John blocked his shot by slamming the ball down to the pavement. She wouldn’t have wanted to be on the receiving end of that move.

Both of the men were totally into the game and clearly determined to win.

She knew John was having a good time, though. She could see it in his face, in his stance, in his eyes.

It made her happy that he was happy.

“Mark is really putting up a fight,” Sophie commented, her eyes focused on her husband. “Ever since he… he returned, he hasn’t been very competitive—at sports or anything else. I mean, he plays well at anything he tries, but he doesn’t seem to want to fight to win.”

Betsy’s smile sobered slightly. “What happened to him would change anyone.”

“I know. I don’t care if he’s competitive or not. I really don’t. I just sometimes notice the difference.”

“He seems to be fighting today.”

“I know.” Sophie smiled again. “Being with John is good for him.”

“It’s good for John too.”

“I’m so glad you two are moving to Charlotte. I’d never want to be selfish or anything, but Mark and I have been praying that you’d make a decision like that. You’ll be so close now. We can see you all the time.”

The thought made Betsy as happy as it clearly made Sophie. She only knew the other woman slightly, but she already knew they could be friends.

It would be nice to have more people in the world besides her mother whom she could consider family.

She looked back over at the driveway at a burst of sound. Mark had almost scored but the ball had bounced off the rim.

John was obviously enjoying the near miss, if his teasing taunts at his brother were anything to go by.

“Are you going to miss it, do you think?” Sophie asked.

Betsy had to think for a moment before she caught up to the question. “The job, you mean?”

“Yes. I was just wondering if it would be hard for you to do something else now.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it will. There was a lot I loved about what I used to do. But it’s definitely time for a change. And I think I’m more excited about the transition than saddened by it. I really can’t wait to get started at my new job.”

“A fresh start is always exciting. That’s how Mark and I felt when we bought this house. We’d been living in a little loft apartment above the bookstore for more than a year. I really did love that little place, but it’s been even better starting a new life here.”

“Yes. It’s just like that, I think. I’ve got a new apartment in Charlotte that I’m excited about it. John’s going to just keep his old place. He doesn’t really care about his living conditions, and he doesn’t see any reason to find something new. But I didn’t want to live in a cramped little studio. I got a nice two bedroom near work. Fortunately, it’s on the outskirts of the city, so it wasn’t too expensive. It’s going to take me a while to furnish the whole thing, since I have almost no furniture, but I wanted two bedrooms for when my mom comes to visit.”

“Is she excited for you?”

“She’s so excited she calls me every day to hash out everything.” Betsy chuckled. “Pretty soon, it’s going to start to get a little annoying.”

Sophie was about to answer, but a loud roar from the driveway interrupted her. Betsy turned her head in time to see the ball John had just thrown swoosh through the net.

John was grinning and raising his arms above his head and shouting, “Victory!” at the top of his lungs.

Betsy felt a warm flood of pleasure at the sight of his uninhibited behavior. He was almost never like this. He needed to be a lot more.

Mark grumbled and groused—all in good fun—and they clearly decided that the first score decided the game because both of the men limped over, hot, tired, and soaked with perspiration. John’s shirt was so wet it was nearly transparent.

“Did you see that?” John demanded, stepping closer to her as she stood up.

“Yes. I saw it. It was a brilliant piece of athletic prowess and other men can only hope to achieve such heights of glory.” When John’s eyes warmed and he reached out for her, she held up her hands in warning. “No way! You’re covered in sweat, and there will be no touching me until you’ve taken a shower.”

“But you look so pretty in that top.”

“Shower first.”

Mark clapped John on the back. “We have two bathrooms in this house. We’re living in the lap of luxury now. No waiting to take your shower.”

Mark folded and carried the chairs back in as they all trooped back into the house.

Betsy shooed John away into the guest bathroom, and she could still hear him mock complaining about the rejection behind the closed door.

The house had four bedrooms and two bathrooms, and the one she was staying in was a cute, tiny space with a single bed, a small dresser, and not much else. She went into it to brush out her hair and check her face, and she was pleased to see she looked pretty and rosy from the sun.

She’d bought some new clothes in the last few days. Not a huge number, and all of them were on sale, but compared to her normal buying habits, it felt like a shopping spree.

But she wanted to branch out from wearing nothing but jeans, T-shirts, and ponytails. She wanted to wear things that were pretty and flattering and not just “basic.”

She didn’t just want to be pretty for John. She wanted to be pretty for herself.

She was content and smiling as she went into the kitchen and helped Sophie start dinner while the men were showering.

John took ridiculously fast showers. She had no idea how he did it. But barely five minutes had passed when John reappeared, his hair still damp and wearing clean khaki shorts and a blue T-shirt. His eyes looked very blue in his tanned face as he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck.

Trying to ignore the ripples of pleasure at his embrace and his obvious affection, she sniffed and said, “You smell much better now.”

He was about to reply when his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, glanced at the screen, and then silenced it.

“Who was it?”

“Chuck.”

She huffed. “You shouldn’t ignore Chuck’s calls. What if it’s important?”

“I’m still on sabbatical for another two days.”

“That doesn’t mean he can’t call you!”

He laughed softly and pressed a little kiss on her lips. “I’ll call him back later.”

Betsy knew this was a significant step for him—not jumping on a work call immediately, to the detriment of anything else in his life—and she was proud of him for it. So she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him enthusiastically.

“Excuse me,” Mark said in a loud voice. “Coming through here. Not seeing anything. Just passing by.”

Betsy was giggling as they broke apart, and she watched as Mark gave his brother a soft punch on the shoulder. “When you get a chance, I have something to tell you, something you’re obviously too clueless to figure out for yourself.”

This was enough to pique John’s interest, and he followed his brother into the kitchen. He took Betsy’s hand first, though, pulling her along with him.

John was unabashedly excited about his brother’s news. It would be his first niece and nephew, and he had a grand time making up a bunch of outlandish names to make up for the very traditional John and Mark their parents had named the brothers.

All four of them had a wonderful evening, making dinner, eating it, and then sitting around the table for a couple of hours afterward, talking well past dark.

Betsy supposed maybe other people had such evenings all the time, but she almost never had. She enjoyed it more than she would have expected.

She’d always believed that these kinds of experiences only happened to other women. But this was real. John’s love for her was real. The future they were going to start together was real.

And tonight was real—eating and laughing with these people she loved.

It was one of those small miracles of life. Her mother had always called them blessings.

And no matter where else their lives would take them, she knew there would be more of them to come.

***

Seven months later, Betsy was asking, “Do we have to walk so far?”

John glanced over and saw she was slightly rosy from the sun, although the December afternoon was cool and brisk. Her expression as she asked the question was confused and slightly frustrated.

He tried to put on a casual demeanor, although his heart was already pounding from nerves and excitement and a kind of urgent vitality he’d almost forgotten he could experience earlier this year.

Betsy sighed and gazed out over the beach and the Atlantic Ocean, both of them gleaming in the sunshine of a perfectly clear winter day. “This looks like a good spot right here.”

“I can still hear the cars on the road,” he said, with a kind of blithe matter-of-factiness he hoped would be convincing. He reached out to take her hand as they walked farther south from where they’d parked. “And that guy fishing over there is annoying.”

Betsy turned back to stare in astonishment at the completely innocent lone fisherman standing on the beach in the distance.

He almost choked on his laughter at the look on her face, but he managed to control his expression and made a guttural sound as he dragged her along. “Come on now. I don’t like this spot.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes at him, although she fell into step with him easily enough. “What’s gotten into you today?”

“Nothing has gotten into me.”

“Well, something has gotten into you. You’ve been weird all day. Did my mom say something to you?”

“What would she have said?”

“I don’t know. But I wouldn’t put it past her to put pressure on you or something.” She was peering at his face now, and he knew he had to be very careful.

He was so focused on the task at hand that he had trouble following her implications. “Pressure about what?”

“Pressure about… about us.” Her face twisted in a way that was both ironically amused and embarrassed. “She might want you to be moving faster—with the relationship stuff I mean. But she’s really not trying to… I mean, she just wants the best for me, for us. Don’t get upset by anything she might say or hint about.”

He understood what she was saying now. And, truth be told, for the last two days, as they’d been visiting Betsy’s mother on the Outer Banks for the Christmas holiday, the woman had made more than a few hints about John not wasting any more time. It hadn’t bothered him at all. He knew what mothers were like, even though his had died long before she’d had a chance to give him a kick in the pants over such things. “I’m not upset.”

“You’re acting upset.”

“I am?”

“Yes. Or weird or something. Is there something I should know about?”

“No, no.” He was walking quickly, and he knew Betsy was having to take extra steps in order to keep up with his longer stride. But she’d figure things out soon enough, and he wanted to be in place and ready before she did.

“John,” her voice was slightly sharp now, and she stopped in the sand. “I don’t like you to keep things from me.”

He stopped too and turned to face her. He reached out and cupped her cheek with one hand. “Sweetheart, I’m going to tell you everything you need to know. I promise.”

His words or his expression must have convinced her because her face relaxed visibly. “Then why are you being so weird?”

“I’m not being weird. I just want to find a good spot for our picnic.”

“I know, but we only have an hour or two before we have to meet up with Mom. We can’t go on an all-day hike up the beach.”

“I don’t want to go on an all-day hike. Just over there.” He gestured further on.

She sighed and continued walking with him without argument, much to John’s relief.

They’d almost gotten where he wanted to go when she pulled to a stop again. “Wait! We’ve gone too far.”

“What do you mean?”

“This part of the beach isn’t public. It belongs to Balm in Gilead.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “I didn’t realize we were so close.”

She nodded farther up the beach. “Look. There’s the back of the building.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I like this spot right here.”

“But it’s a private beach?”

“Who cares?”

“Zeke will care when he catches us trespassing.”

“I don’t care about Zeke.”

“He’ll yell at me.”

John chuckled softly. “Then I’ll yell at him back.”

She rolled her eyes. “You would too.”

He took a step forward. “Of course I would. You don’t think I’d yell at anyone who was mean to the woman I love.”

Her dry expression transformed into something soft and fond. “You’re being weird again.”

“Great. I thought I was being romantic.”

Her brows lowered. “You were?”

“Well, I dragged you all the way back to Balm in Gilead, where I first fell in love with you, didn’t I?”

He could see the flickering of thoughts on her face, as she was trying to work things out. “You did?”

John’s heart was beating wildly again. He’d planned a whole speech, but it didn’t seem right now. It didn’t seem natural.

It didn’t seem like him and Betsy.

He said, “You know I did. I guess I was probably in love with you before then, but it wasn’t until I came here that I realized it. This is where it happened for me, for us.”

Her mouth trembled slightly, amusement or emotion or both at the same time. “I know that. I meant you dragged me here on purpose. I thought you just accidentally went too far.”

“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “That.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, like she was hugging herself. “What’s going on, John?”

“I wanted to come out here, back here. This is where I wanted to do this.”

“Do what?”

He stuck his hand into his pocket, and Betsy gasped audibly.

“Seriously?” she breathed.

He frowned at her. “I haven’t even gotten it out of my pocket yet.”

She reached out to clutch at his shirt. “Seriously?”

Joy was bursting in waves from his heart, at the shock and excitement and happiness—the answer—he could see clearly on Betsy’s face. But he couldn’t seem to get the damned ring out, since the box and his fist around it wouldn’t easily slide out of the opening. “Let me get it out of my pocket,” he grumbled.

She waited for a moment, her breathing fast and uneven as she kept clinging to his shirt. Then she whispered, “Well, hurry up and get it out.”

He growled impatiently and yanked out his hand. “There.”

Betsy made a wordless sound, like she couldn’t restrain whatever was bubbling up inside her.

John opened the box and took out the ring—a diamond solitaire on a simple gold band. Then he had to pull his hand away when Betsy reached for it.

“Let me ask you first,” he said.

She took a deep breath and dropped her hand. “Okay. Go to it.”

He cleared his throat and met her eyes, and was momentarily speechless at the love and laughter and knowledge he saw there. Then he managed to say, “I was only half-living when you first brought me here seven months ago. And I was trying to… I was trying to earn my way into God’s favor. I had no idea of the blessings he’d already given me, and so many more he was about to. And you’re the greatest blessing I can imagine ever getting. I’d like to share the rest of my life with you and live all the way with you. If that’s what you want too.”

“It is.” Betsy’s mouth was wobbling, and so was her voice. She was so overcome she was close to tears. “Of course it is.”

“Then would you marry me, Betsy, and be my sweetheart for the rest of our lives?”

“Yes!” She threw her arms around his neck and kept repeating, “Yes, yes, yes.”

It was exactly the answer he’d wanted, and it didn’t matter if he didn’t deserve it.

He was being given it anyway.

He’d slid the ring onto her finger and was kissing her quite passionately when a sound from the distance diverted them.

They broke apart and both looked over, and Betsy gasped, “It’s Zeke! He’s seen us!”

It was indeed Zeke in the distance, striding toward them. The man had some kind of radar where this place was concerned. He could always sense when someone was breaking the rules.

“I hope you don’t expect me to run away from him,” he said, wrapping his arm around Betsy and pulling her against him.

“That would be my first instinct,” she said, sneaking a little look down at her ring.

John liked the look of it there too.

“We can just say hi,” John suggested. “Maybe we could go see Cecily too, while we’re over here.”

Betsy was giggling and shaking her head. “Fine. But you’re the one whose going to have to explain to Zeke why we were trespassing on private property.”

“Fair enough.”

Zeke recognized them as soon as he approached, but he wasn’t at all impressed with the fact that they’d just gotten engaged. In fact, he just snarled at the news.

But he figured he and Betsy were happy enough for all three of them, and even Zeke’s glowers couldn’t bring them down.

***

The next book in the Balm in Gilead series, , will be out in August. More information on it will be coming soon. If you haven’t yet read the Willow Park books, you might pick up , about Daniel Duncan and his wife. Mark and Sophie’s book is , the last book in the Willow Park series.

 

My next release is , the first book in the Tea for Two series. An excerpt from that book can be found on the following pages.

 

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