I place my hand on hers and squeeze. “Your being here is all the gift I need. Really. I know what a sacrifice this is.” It took three months before I had the courage to talk to my mom about what her father and sister had done when she was younger. It took two more months after that for her to actually tell me her side. It was harsh and angry, but I do think it was also the first step my mom needed to begin to heal.
“All the same, there’s something I want you to have. Something that . . .” Her voice fades, and instead of saying what it is, she pulls at the tab on the envelope and slides out some very official-looking documents. “This is the deed to my land. I had it transferred to you.”
My breath hitches as I take the paperwork in hand. It’s true. Signed, notarized, and sealed. “Mom . . . this is too much.”
She sighs and turns to look out the window. “I’ll be the first to say I don’t agree with your choices right now, especially the religious thing you’ve got going. But . . . that aside, this land should be loved. It’s what my mother would have wanted.” She turns back to me, the grief still very strong in her eyes. “And since I have no intention of staying here past this weekend, I think it’s time I let it go. Don’t you?”
Forget the mascara. Let the waterworks come without barrier. This is the most unselfish thing my mom has ever done for me. Not just the land, but the promise to try to forgive. To mend our family. To one day maybe find the same peace I found when I came to Texas.
I laugh through my tears. “Dillon is going to do cartwheels. He’s had a house designed for over a year now.”
Her lips press into a white slash. “Don’t you dare put his name on this deed. Marriages end every day. This is Sanders land and will remain Sanders land. Got it?”
So, we’ll start with baby steps.
“Got it, Mom.” I affectionately place my hand on her ageless cheek. “Thank you. It’s the most perfect gift in the world.”
Her blue eyes meet mine and we’re connected in a way only mothers and daughters can understand. “No, Jan, you’re the most perfect gift. This guy of yours better know that, too.”
“He does,” I say through choked sobs.
My mom, never being one for emotional moments, clears her throat and stands. “Well . . . I guess we should get you out there. Your first wedding is always the prettiest, and the most expensive, so enjoy this one.”
I don’t bother arguing. She doesn’t understand. I know because I never understood it, either. Dillon’s and my relationship wasn’t born out of attraction and intense emotion. From the beginning, it was real, rooted in friendship, strengthened through pain and loss, and now solidified in equal faith. Maybe one day my mom will understand that kind of love and stop the roller coaster she’s been on. I know I’ll never quit praying for that very thing.
Mom fluffs my dress and pats under my eyes with a brush of powder. When I fully pass her inspection, she opens the door, too choked up to hide that even though she doesn’t much believe in marriage, she still understands the gravity of what I’m about to enter. A covenant with a man who I know will never stop loving me.
It’s amazing how life can change in a flash. One year. That’s all it took to transform my world. I walked into Grace Community lost, broken, and desperately searching for meaning in my life. Now I know exactly who I am.
I take my first step through the door and onto the path I could walk blindfolded until I see Dillon standing by my favorite tree. He’s in a dark suit and tie. His hair is trimmed, and his eyes lock on to mine as if we’re the only two people in the universe.
Maybe we are. Because in this moment, I’m not running or hiding from something I don’t want to face. This time I’m walking forward, intentionally, purposefully.
I guess Doreen was right about God’s plan, after all.
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him. . . .
Romans 8:28
Acknowledgments
Two years ago, I closed my laptop and decided I had written my last manuscript. The next day, I texted my writing partners and told them my decision to quit. Their response? A capitalized “NO YOU ARE NOT!”
Thus began months of prayer where I begged God to release me from this calling. Everything had gotten too hard, my stories too stale, my motivation nonexistent.
And then one day an idea percolated: maybe I can’t write the same type of story because I’m no longer the person who wrote that debut novel. My first ten books were all about overcoming shame, forgiving oneself, and finding redemption. Miraculously, through those ten heartrending stories, I found my own healing.
And once I’d embraced the person I’d become and the new message I wanted to share, this story came tumbling out at such speed that I couldn’t get the words down fast enough. I had stepped over a threshold and it was time to close the lid on the past I was so ashamed of and embrace the abundant life I now live in Christ.
Perhaps, as you read this story, you found yourself relating to one of the characters. Maybe it was January and her fear of trust, or Dillon and his anger at God, or Cameron and his frustration with waiting. No matter where you are on this path we call Christianity, I know God has a message and purpose just waiting for you.
I’m so grateful that He made me push through to get to the end of this story. I know without question there are many more to come.
So thank you to all those who have helped me on this crazy, unexpected journey:
To Raela Schoenherr and all the Bethany House editors and staff, thank you for allowing me to partner with such an incredible team. You have been my dream publisher for years, and I still pinch myself that we get to navigate my writing life together. I’m so excited for what is still to come.
To my fabulous agent, Jessica Kirkland, for never giving up on me, even when I gave up on myself. Thank you for the many phone calls and motivational speeches. I couldn’t have done it without you.
To my amazing writing partners—Connilyn Cossette, Christy Barritt, Nicole Deese, and Amy Matayo—how did I ever write without you? Thank you for all the plotting ideas, the many encouraging notes, and your steadfast belief in me and this story. You four are one of my richest blessings.
To Angel David, Ashley Espinoza, Joanie Schultz, and Kelly Scott, thank you for being fabulous beta readers, even when given an incomplete story. Your input was invaluable and critical to the success of this novel.
To my wonderful readers, you have all been so patient and so kind. I know I still owe you a book in a previous series, but I hope you now understand why this one had to come first. I pray you have seen my heart on every page.
And finally, to the most important people in the world, my family. You sacrifice so much each and every time I sit down to write. Thank you for forgiving the mounds of unwashed laundry, the many “fend for yourself” dinners, and my habit of staying in story-world long after the workday is over. You make writing possible, and I promise: you all are getting a huge celebratory dinner very soon.
About the Author
Tammy L. Gray lives in the Dallas area with her family, and they love all things Texas. Her many modern and true-to-life contemporary romance novels include the 2017 RITA Award–winning My Hope Next Door and show her unending quest to write culturally relevant stories with relatable characters. When not taxiing her three kids to various school and sporting events, Tammy can be spotted crunching numbers as the financial administrator at her hometown church. Learn more at www.tammylgray.com.
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Table of Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Contents
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Acknowledgments
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
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ith friends