Her Daughter's Preacher

By Jeannie Sharpe

Corey's life fell apart when her preacher husband turned his back on her and their family. Corey is raising the kids on her own, but she is struggling. She has no support from her family and she is estranged from the faith that was her foundation for most of her life. So, when she meets a handsome man that turns out to be her daughter's preacher, she is determined to keep her distance.
No way, no how will she make that mistake again
But this preacher has his eyes on Corey and he will not give up easily. Will Corey learn to love again and possibly find her faith in the process?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Foster Embry Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Aug 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463569092

Book preview

Her Daughter’s Preacher

Jeannie Sharpe

Foster Embry Publishing, LLC

244 Fifth Avenue, Suite E148

New York, New York 10001

www.fosterembry.com

Copyright © 2018 by Jeannie Sharpe

All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Printed in the United States of America

First edition, 2017

Second edition, 2018

To my husband, Vance, who listened to me read this story over and over during the editing process. I love you and I cherish our life together.

Chapter One

Sara Anne Fisher couldn’t help praying for the same thing over and over. Lord Jesus, send me a daddy. Barely two hours had passed since she arrived at school. Christmas parties were going on in every classroom, but all she could think about was her momma finding a husband.

Lord, Haley and I need a daddy.

Sara Anne leaned sideways, looking around Connor Smith’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of something crawling in the snow near the dumpster behind the school.

What was that? She stood, leaning over the desk, in hopes of a better view from the row of windows on the other side of the room. Jasper, come here.

Jasper Collins, her best friend, leaped from her chair.

What is moving over there? Sara Anne put her finger to the glass.

I don’t see anything. C’mon; let’s get some cake.

I’ve already had three pieces. Sara Anne squinted to see something, anything. Big snowflakes started to stick on the windows. Maybe it was a dog or possibly a cat. There it is again!

Jasper approached Sara Anne with two pieces of cake and set them on the window ledge. I got you another piece of cake, she said as she took a huge bite. What did you get in your secret Santa gift?

A storybook, some candy, and three pencils.

I got a DVD. Want to see it?

No. That’s okay, Jasper. Look out there. Do you see anything?

Jasper put her head against the glass and placed her hands on either side of her face. I don’t see what you’re seeing, Sara Anne.

The bell rang. I’m going to find it. Will you go with me?

Mrs. Johnson, their first-grade teacher, interrupted. Okay, children, gather your things.

Everyone scrambled. Sara Anne fastened her coat buttons and felt for her gloves. She glanced at Jasper. Are you ready?

Yes.

Together, arm in arm, pummeling their feet, the two small girls rushed to the main entrance.

The skies, a darkened gray, lashed sleet pellets, clouding the view across the schoolyard. Hurry, Jasper.

Their plans were quickly thwarted once Jasper’s mother yelled from her car.

I’m sorry, Sara Anne, I’ve got to go. I hope you find what you’re looking for. Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas, Jasper, Sara Anne yelled as she veered to her left. With a swift hand, she shielded her face from the pelting sleet, never taking her eyes off the dumpster. She toiled through the slush and reached the cold, metal dumpster. Whimpering sounds from an animal cried out.

Where are you? Peeking around the edge of the bin, she was surprised to see a golden puppy. Shaking to its core, the small puppy wagged its tail. Oh, you poor thing. How did you get out here? Bending to her knees, Sara Anne picked up the freezing pup and cuddled it. You’re going to be fine now. She slid off her book bag and put the puppy on top. The shivering thing didn’t move.

Off went her gloves, then her coat. She rubbed the puppy’s wet fur with the lining of her jacket. With quick fingers, she unzipped her backpack and jostled the tiny thing inside, zipping it, leaving only his head sticking out. In a flash, with her coat and gloves back on, she slipped the book bag over her shoulder and marched toward home.

***

Sara Anne, I was getting worried. Where did you go after school? Sara Anne’s older sister shouted.

Relax, Haley, I just went to the dumpster.

At the back of the school? You scared me to death!

Sara Anne stopped in her tracks. I found Momma a Christmas present.

You found something in the dumpster for her gift? Haley questioned.

Slightly breathless from all the excitement, Sara Anne jumped in front of her. You promise?

Promise what?

Sara Anne bolted up the stoop of their old one-story house and squatted just inside the door, unzipping her book bag. Promise me you won’t tell Momma?

I promise, already.

Sara Anne lifted the dirty, skinny, golden puppy from among her pencils, notebooks, and her now smashed gift bag she’d received from her secret Santa.

Oh my, Sara Anne. Haley opened her arms. He stinks. Let me hold him.

Sara Anne, with tenderness, placed the puppy in the arms of her thirteen-year-old sister. He’s the reason I didn’t come straight home. Sara Anne frowned and sniffed the air. Is something burning?

Oh no! Haley screamed, our cookies. As fast as her feet would move, Haley crossed the den and halted at the smoking oven. Hurry, Sara Anne, throw me that oven mitt.

The smoke alarm blared. Gray clouds hazed the tiny brown paneled kitchen. Turn it off! Sara Anne shouted.

Haley forced the oven mitt on her right hand and yanked the door to the stove.

Our cookies are black, Haley.

Yeah, our cookies are burnt, little sister.

I’ll help you clean up. Sara Anne wrestled the huge trash can over to Haley. Here you go, she said as she wiped the front of her shirt.

Haley patted her light blonde hair and smiled. Thanks, she laughed. That trash can is bigger than you are. Listen, I’ll clean up this mess. You go give that puppy a bath. Don’t make the water too hot.

Sara Anne raced from the kitchen, slid across the hardwoods and crouched in front of her book bag. The new-found puppy was curled up inside. Sweet boy, you like my backpack, don’t you? She rubbed his velvety ears. What should we name you? The puppy lifted his head and licked her face. Aww, thank you, buddy.

Hearing Sara Anne’s giggles, Haley hightailed it across the room. Why didn’t you start his bath? Momma will be home soon. Haley took charge, picked up the puppy, and stormed into the bathroom. Hurry up, Sara Anne.

The tiny, wall-to-wall pink tiled room was a bit over the top with its ornate design. Sara Anne sat on the toilet, twisted the hot and cold knobs simultaneously and watched the puppy dance around, trying not to touch the water. He is so cute. I just love him, Haley. Momma’s going to love her Christmas present. Everything will be perfect when Jesus sends her a husband and us a new daddy. I prayed for it.

Haley scowled. You’re crazy. I guess you think Santa Claus will bring him?

It could happen.

Haley picked up the oversized plastic cup and poured warm water over the pup’s head. He shook his whole body trying to rid himself of the soaking