Follow Your Heart

By Donna Dotson

Follow Your Heart is a modern day inspirational romance. Nurse Rachel King has volunteered for a medical mission team in the Middle East, in search of her childhood sweetheart. After years of waiting for love, she has made a vow to her work and a vow to God. But she soon learns, God gives us the desire of our heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Sep 6, 2016
• ISBN: 9781512751949

Donna Dotson

Donna Dotson is the proud wife of a retired Marine, and mother to three fine Christian sons. She worked for twenty-four years as a Registered Nurse, licensed with the state of Texas. She began writing in 1980, during her husband’s tour of duty at Marine Corps Air Station, Kaneohe, Hawaii. That was also the time she discovered a deep relationship with her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. She has been an active member of Romance Writers of America, where she continued to develop her God given talent, under the inspirational training of published authors. During her Christian walk, she spent thirty-five years in church leadership, as a Sunday School teacher. She is currently enrolled at the Assembly of God Global University, working for a degree in the School of Bible and Theology. She loves to travel, and has served in many countries around the world with Healthcare Ministries, as a Missionary Nurse/Health Educator.

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Copyright © 2016 Donna Dotson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Scripture is taken from GOD’S WORD®, © 1995 God’s Word to the Nations. Used by permission of Baker Publishing Group.

Scripture taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

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ISBN: 978-1-5127-5193-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5127-5195-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5127-5194-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016912531

WestBow Press rev. date: 09/06/2016

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Dedicated to Master Sergeant R.W. Dotson, U.S.M.C. ret., the love of my life.

Prologue

It’s that special time of year when families hold fast to their traditions. Children gather around brightly decorated trees, counting presents and the number of days they must wait for Santa. Mothers hurry through local stores for last-minute shopping. Fathers focus on the latest stats of their favorite football teams.

In the center of town stands one of many churches, where people meet for choir practice. Outside, the preacher directs volunteers in erecting their annual rendition of the Nativity. Such is life in a small Texas community.

But across town, in the historic mansion of Henderson House, another family tradition will soon be relived: saying good-bye.

Chapter 1

It’s almost Christmas. Why would you consider leaving?

Twenty-two-year-old Rachel King turned from the business of packing and reluctantly faced her mother’s authoritative glare. Please, Momma, for once in your life, try to understand.

Her mother, Charlotte Henderson King, sat on the edge of the bed and slammed the suitcase closed. You just graduated!

Rachel reopened the suitcase and paused a moment to appraise her mother’s red silk blouse and black velvet slacks. Did you enjoy your day at Neiman Marcus, Momma?

The middle-aged beauty shifted her position and glanced at the reflection in the vanity mirror. Her manicured fingernails appeared to tremble as she stroked a wisp of blonde hair behind her right ear. You’re trying to change the subject—just like your father. But this time it won’t work. I refuse to sit here while you throw your life away.

Rachel released a mournful groan and turned toward her dressing table. With a flutter of moist lashes, she scanned a collection of photos around the mirror. Unlike her mother, she rarely spent time gazing at her own reflection. She had inherited a flawless complexion, but her color was more cream than ivory. Her hair was an unruly mane of a dark auburn, passed down from her paternal grandmother. It was a trait her father treasured far above the silky blond tresses so often propagated among the Henderson family.

She released a heavy sigh and reached across the bed for a pile of freshly laundered clothes. I didn’t spend these past four years of study just to sit behind a desk at Henderson Hospital.

Charlotte raised both hands in objection. That hospital will belong to you one day. Have you forgotten your grandfather built it, and I’m on the board of directors? How can you walk away from family responsibility?

Rachel tried to ignore the look of disappointment in her mother’s eyes. In truth, she’d hardly expected an emotional farewell scene with either of her parents. Momma, as long as I can remember, you took me to church. Isn’t it time I put into practice what I learned from those Sunday sermons? I’m a trained nurse, and I want to go where I can help people.

Charlotte huffed with a look of obvious disgust. I took you to church because the Henderson family has a legacy of leadership in the state of Texas. People expect us to follow our southern heritage and traditions, which includes attending church. There was a moment of silence, as if she were contemplating her next line of defense. I’ve never understood your need to talk to God. I was taught a good person attends church on Sunday and gives to the poor. She paused once more and pointed to a bronze crucifix on the wall. I will not allow you to destroy your life with romantic illusions of self-sacrifice.

Rachel shook her head then pointed at a gold-framed picture on her nightstand. Matthew has chosen a career with the marines, and my place is with him.

Is that why you’re leaving? Your place has never been following the military. Charlotte’s voice shifted an octave higher. What about your inheritance, Rachel Anne? If you go, you’ll never see a cent of your grandfather’s money. You’ll be turning your back on a trust fund of 8.2 million dollars.

Rachel flinched. I’ve been hearing about that trust fund since I was eighteen. You said it’s the only reason Matthew wants to marry me. She felt a sudden rush of uncontrollable tears. If the money means so much to you, give it to the hospital.

Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Her mother quickly pushed up from the bed as the intercom beeped.

Mrs. King, there’s a visitor at the front gate.

Now, who can that be? The guests aren’t due for another hour. Charlotte stepped to the bedroom window and peeked through the drapes. I invited Senator Hopkins and his wife to dinner. So please change into something suitable. The newspaper asked if they could send a photographer over.

With fisted hands at her side, Rachel closed her eyes. I feel like I’m living in a goldfish bowl, everyone watching me, expecting me to carry on family traditions of wealth and political ambition. I’ll stay up here and finish my packing.

Her mother’s tight-lipped expression was quickly transformed into a taunting smile. She fluffed her shoulder-length hairstyle and then turned for one last look in the mirror. Nonsense. I also invited that handsome young doctor. Oh, what’s his name? I saw him looking at you last Sunday.

Rachel brushed a stray curl from her cheek and then held out her right hand to display a tiny solitary diamond. You know I’m engaged to Matthew.

Oh, please, her mother gasped. I refuse to ruin our holiday with another mention of his name. How he ever found the money to buy that ring, I can’t imagine. The boy didn’t have a job, and he couldn’t keep a dime in his pocket.

He’s no longer a boy, Momma, and the ring belonged to his mother.

The room seemed to fade as Rachel was engulfed by the memory of that night, her eighteenth birthday, when he’d grabbed her hand and proposed. Mrs. Richardson overheard us talking about running away, she said. It was the only thing she had to offer in the way of a wedding gift.

After a huff of disgust, Charlotte said, Can you imagine the kind of life you would have had? Thank goodness the sheriff spotted your car and called your father.

Rachel rubbed her eyes in an effort to erase the painful image from her mind. It had been the darkest day of her life. With a surge of bitter regret, she tugged at the top drawer of the vanity table. And a week later, Matthew left for the Marine Corps, after the judge threatened to arrest him for abduction.

Rachel bit into her lower lip as she raised a manila envelope from the drawer. She had waited months to share the news in that envelope, hoping her father would offer support and perhaps show some pride in her accomplishments. I planned to tell you about this tonight, after dinner. She withdrew a letter from the packet and thrust it at her mother as a declaration of freedom. I volunteered to work with Dr. Phillips. I met him last summer in Mexico.

Her mother snatched the envelope and scanned the itinerary with an irritable hiss. We’ll discuss this later. You know I can’t read this tiny print without my glasses. Have someone put it on my desk. She quickly folded the itinerary and tossed the packet on the bed.

Rachel raised her chin and squared her shoulders. This letter includes my flight schedule. I’m flying from Dallas to Kabul. She waited for a storm of protest, but her mother only blinked with a look of disbelief.

You haven’t been on a plane since your father retired from the Marine Corps, Charlotte whispered. Then her voice rose to a shout. You’ve always hated flying!

Rachel grabbed her mother’s hand, gave it a gentle squeeze, and retrieved the crumpled paper. That’s not true, Momma. You refused to leave Texas, and you used me as an excuse to keep us here at home.

Charlotte raised one eyebrow and shrugged. I didn’t need any excuses when it came to my choice of residence. But that was a private matter between me and your father. It had nothing to do with you.

"I grew up without a father, and that decision had much to do with my childhood. I wanted us to be a family."

Charlotte’s face was suddenly pale. So after all these years, you still blame me for your father’s absence? You have no idea what it means to love a man but never have the right of a permanent home or even the ability to make plans for the future.

After four years of waiting for Matthew to come home, you think I can’t understand? As soon as the words were spoken, Rachel’s throat tightened with an ache of bitter regret. If you want to say I told you so, I guess I have it coming.

After a deep breath, she turned back to the dresser, tugged at the top drawer, and pulled out a passport. I leave after Christmas. I’ll have a layover in New York to meet the medical team, and then we’ll fly to London and on to Afghanistan.

Does your father know about this? The luster of her mother’s tanned complexion suddenly paled, and her eyes flashed panic. I can’t believe you would fly into a war for someone you haven’t seen in years. Or was this his idea? It can’t be a coincidence that you’ve requested an assignment to that part of the world?

Rachel unconsciously twisted the ring around her finger. Matthew doesn’t know. And if you must know, I haven’t heard from him for some time.

I blame your father for this! Charlotte pressed a hand to her chest with a look of desperation. And you’re just like him.

Oh, Momma, please, Rachel sobbed. This has nothing to do with Daddy. With an uncontrollable rush of adrenalin, she slammed the drawer, causing a framed photograph to topple from the dresser. She made a frantic grasp, but the silver frame dropped to the floor in an explosion of shattered glass. As quickly as a knee jerk, she scooped the picture frame from the floor and stared at the image of Matthew in his dress blue uniform. I have to find him.

Charlotte pivoted toward the door. "I hoped time and distance would put an end to that childhood infatuation. He’ll never amount to