Keeping Faith

By Niki Hershey Knisley

The culmination of their story points to a fairytale ending. And why shouldn’t they have one after all they’ve been through?
Gabe Scott and Faith Brooks were reunited more than a year after their relationship ended badly. In the interim, Faith had returned to her old life and was content. But there was still a part of her heart Gabe would always hold.
So, when he turned up on her doorstep a transformed man, and they rekindled their relationship, she thought since they’d already been through the fire, their future looked bright. Now he’s proposed and, with marriage and the reunion of their little family, they’re excited to move on.
But as they prepare for the wedding and seek to put their past behind them, it proves harder than expected. It seems the factors stacked against them during their engagement are following them into their marriage and Faith’s doubts are growing. Did they make a mistake? Was it too soon? Do they have too much baggage for this to work? The trust that had eroded between them the year they dated has barely had time to rebuild, and what is a relationship without trust?
Keeping their faith strong and their marriage together is draining them of the passion that once bound them so tightly. And Faith begins to struggle to recognize the person she’s becoming. Can they keep their faith in the Lord and each other together?
Amidst this turmoil, a tragic turn of events throws them into a tailspin of doubt and threatens to strip them of both their faith and their marriage. Suddenly, they’re faced with the question not of whether they’ll get their fairytale ending, but whether they’ll be together in the end at all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Apr 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9781665742375

Niki Hershey Knisley

Niki Knisley became passionate about writing at a young age and is a prolific writer of songs, poetry, and stories. Her first two novels in the Faith Brooks series were well-received and earned glowing reviews. She and her husband, Craig, have served in pastoral ministry for over twenty years. They live in the Midwest with their three awesome sons, Hudson and twins Graham and Tyler. In her sparse free time, Niki also enjoys reading, singing, playing board and card games, scrapbooking, puzzles, coloring, Sudoku, and great conversation with her friends and family.

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Copyright © 2023 Niki Hershey Knisley.

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.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

ISBN: 978-1-6657-4236-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-4237-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023907083

Archway Publishing rev. date: 05/09/2023

Contents

Dedication

Prologue

Faith

Chapter 1

Faith

Chapter 2

Gabe

Chapter 3

Grace

Chapter 4

Faith

Chapter 5

Grace

Chapter 6

Faith

Chapter 7

Carter

Chapter 8

Gabe

Chapter 9

Grace

Chapter 10

Ellie

Chapter 11

Faith

Chapter 12

Gabe

Chapter 13

Faith

Chapter 14

Ellie

Chapter 15

Faith

Chapter 16

Grace

Chapter 17

Gabe

Chapter 18

Faith

Chapter 19

Faith

Chapter 20

Gabe

Chapter 21

Faith

Chapter 22

Gabe

Chapter 22

Ellie

Chapter 23

Grace

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Ellie

Chapter 26

Carter

Chapter 27

Gabe

Chapter 28

Grace

Chapter 29

Faith

Chapter 30

Gabe

Chapter 31

Faith

Acknowledgments

Reviews and Copies

Dedication

To my family: my husband Craig and boys Hudson, Ty, and Graham. I am grateful for your support. For Craig adjusting to this passion of mine that he didn’t know existed when we got married as young adults. For patience as we discerned together what exactly this writing thing was: a career, a passion, a calling, or a hobby. For the boys tolerating the times I spent pursuing my dream instead of playing a game or watching another fantasy or sci-fi movie with them. For all of them not taking it personally when I was much more drawn to secreting away to write or edit than cook a gormet meal or clean the house, which would have benefitted them more. While I do love all things writing, it pales in comparison to how much I love all my boys/men. You are the greatest dream I have ever sought and acheived.

Prologue

Faith

Not again. This cannot possibly be happening to me again. Isn’t having your daughter’s life endangered three times before she’s even out of diapers more than anyone should have to bear?

I think I’m having a panic attack. I can’t breathe, my chest is tight, and my world is caving in. I have never felt so out of control. I have been in plenty of stressful, anxiety-ridden, painful situations in my brief twenty-one years of life (okay, most have been in the last several and self-inflicted), but never—NEVER—have I felt this depth of fear and helplessness.

They say control is an illusion. That even when we think we have great influence on a situation, in actuality, it’s much less than we imagine. We are full of our own self-importance and buy into the lie that we’re the master of our own universe. What’s the famous quote about accepting what you can’t change, having courage to change what you can, and the wisdom to know the difference? I think most of the time we don’t even try to discern the difference; we assume we can change anything. But in tragedy, there is no confidence. As there are no atheists in foxholes, there are no braggarts when a loved one is on the brink of death. I just never considered I might find myself so cruelly stripped of my surety and naked with vulnerability with such uncommon frequency.

Had I no faith, I would be hopeless as well as helpless—completely lost. I can’t even fathom the emptiness that would swallow me whole if I had no one to depend on to fix an unfixable situation but my feeble self. Blessedly, I am not. And never before have I been so dependent on His sovereignty to rule the day, which, considering my past few years of turmoil and chaos, is truly saying something!

Now all that’s left to do is entrust my sweet little girl into the Hands of the only One who could ever affect the outcome in the first place, beg for her life to be spared, and—the hardest part…to wait.

Chapter 1

Faith

This was a terrible idea!

It’ll be fun! they said.

Girl bonding time, they said.

A great way to bring the two families together! they said.

They were wrong.

It’s a nightmare.

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Ooh, Faith, look at this one! This is perfect! Amanda Scott coos, for like the twentieth time today. How can she keep saying that? There’s only one perfect wedding dress for me. I just haven’t found it yet. But it definitely hasn’t been any of her suggestions!

Perfect for whom? Grace mutters under her breath. I elbow her and plaster on a smile.

Okay, just a sec, I’ll come see, I call back cheerily, hoping to mask my irritation.

I join Amanda in the next row over, willing myself to give this one a chance. She’s got to have one good find in all these choices, right? Even a broken clock is right twice a day, and all that.

But no. No such luck. This dress isn’t as gaudy as some of the previous ones, I’ll give her that. How is it, amidst hundreds of dresses, she can only surface the worst ones?

There are no ugly wedding dresses, just as there are no ugly children, she’d assured us as we drove to the first of five stores that day. Yes, Gabe learned to speak in clichés from his mom. Somehow, it’s become endearing coming from him, though. Her…not so much. It doesn’t help when her catch phrases just aren’t true.

She hasn’t seen some of the kids I’ve babysat for, apparently, Grace had whispered in the backseat next to me. I stifled a laugh and grinned at her. Mom was up front with Amanda and pretended not to hear, but I caught the corner of her mouth twitch.

I was in a much better mood then. Four stores, fifteen dresses, and two hours with Amanda Scott later… Well, let’s just say—I’m not laughing now.

I turn the dress she’s gushing about around and tilt my head. The back is kind of pretty. It’s not a bad dress, really. It’s just…not me. And the first couple times she suggested something, I was understanding. Amanda doesn’t know me very well and doesn’t know my style. But after explaining to her what I’m looking for and reminding her multiple times, my patience is growing thin. Gabe wasn’t kidding when he said she’s not a good listener—I think she’s incapable of letting in anyone’s voice but her own.

You’re enjoying this entirely too much, I shoot at Grace when I’ve reluctantly taken the dress from Amanda to add to the try on pile. I’ve never seen you in such good spirits at a clothing store.

My sister is a notoriously grumpy shopper. Everything costs too much, was designed for skinny minis, not regular people, and the dressing rooms have terrible mirrors and lighting. I’d have to agree with her on that last point, but still.

I’m channeling my inner-Faith, she retorts, wearing a wicked grin. And I’ve never seen you enjoy a trip to the mall less!

Well…maybe I’ve changed since becoming a mother and a responsible adult.

She snorts. Yeah, right. Or it’s that tormentor of a monster-in-law you’re inheriting, ruining your favorite pastime.

Her hyperbole earns a playful shove, and she laughs. I want to defend Amanda, but the twinge of resentment keeps my lips shut. I do—did—love shopping once upon a time. Since having Hope, my priorities have changed, but I still love a good shopping spree every now and then. And this should be the best of all, picking out a dress for my big day, right? Especially when my parents are paying for it!

Determined not to let her get to me, I push aside my annoyance at Amanda, ignore Grace’s good-natured ribbing, and turn back to the task at hand. I am only getting married once and I will find a dress that makes me look amazing for that day!

I leave everyone for another rack. I want to be alone with my thoughts for a minute, to refocus on what I’m doing here. Doubt niggles at the back of my brain, but I stifle it. Yes, this will be your only wedding day, I remind myself. Even if Gabe breaks your heart again, you’re not risking it with anyone else. This is it. This man is for you.

Scolding myself for allowing the unease to creep in again, I flip through hangers without really registering their contents. I want to trust Gabe; he’s my soul mate. I love him with everything I am. I have since I first laid eyes on him in that high school band room. But the damage done that fateful day he kicked me out—I just wonder if I’ll ever fully recover.

Faith… Faith—over here. The insistent whisper draws me back to the present. I scan the aisles to find Mom motioning me over to join her a few rows to my right.

Curious why she’s whispering, I sneak to her side. What? What’s going on?

She casts a quick glance toward Amanda down the way and continues to speak softly. Honey, I think I found it. Look at this. She holds up a hanger bearing the most gorgeous wedding gown I’ve ever seen. It takes my breath away.

It is sleeveless with a fitted lace and bejeweled bodice that looks like it will be slimming around my waist and hide my small pooch. The V neck will allow for a nice dangly necklace, which is my favorite kind. The skirt is a silky fabric that’s hue is so white it practically sparkles. It begins low on the hips to make the torso appear even longer and fans out right at the rise of the rear end. It is simple and without any decorative elements sewn onto it, but the contrast to the bodice and the train make it pop. And the train! That’s my favorite part! It bears the same lace and gems as the bodice and is so long, it reminds me of a queen’s gown that requires multiple attendants to carry it. It’s heavy enough too!

Even through the protective plastic it outshines all the dresses in the store.

It’s exactly what I’ve always pictured.

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You mean you’ve had an image of what your dress will look like since you were little? Gabe had inquired incredulously one day when I’d told him how important this was to me.

I chuckled. Duh. Of course! I’m a girly girl, remember? We all want to be princesses who are the most beautiful girl in all the land—for just that one day! It’s the fairytale, just like being swept off our feet by Prince Charming.

He smiled. Well, you’re the most beautiful girl in all the land every day in my eyes, baby. I rolled my eyes. Always the sweet talker, my Gabe. It still feels good, though because I know he means it, even if he is teasing.

And see, there’s that charming prince of mine, I shot back, wrapping my arms around his neck. Although, I’m not sure princes call their princesses ‘baby’…

He encircled my waist, brought his face close to mine. We’re a whole new brand of royalty, then, making our own path.

I laughed, keeping my eyes on his. Ain’t that the truth!

His smiling lips kissed mine. Hey, at least we got this, though. Another kiss. A good kiss stands the test of time, through all generations and kingdoms. He kissed me harder, deeper. Then whispered against my mouth, Right?

Breathless, I just nodded. This was better than speaking.

He kissed me again until the tingling started, and I reluctantly unlocked my lips from his, but kept my arms around him. Yeah, I think we’ve got that part down.

He sucked in a slow breath and let it out—his coping mechanism—but didn’t release me from his grasp. If stopping is hard for me, it’s ten times harder for him.

I tried to lighten the mood again. So as a boy, you didn’t have any dreams about your wedding day or marriage? None at all?

He shook his head. Nah, not really. Pretty typical guy, I guess. I mean, believe me, I thought about the honeymoon plenty. He smiled down at me. Isn’t that why guys endure the wedding day anyway? To get to the wedding night?

I swatted his chest as he squeezed me tighter. Hey, now!

He laughed. Sorry to burst your bubble, but guys just don’t dwell on the romantic stuff as much, even the sensitive ones. We have different…fantasies.

I conceded with a smile. I remember Dad saying as much about men. I laid my head on his chest, breathing in the scent of him, which still gave me chills. I associate his cologne with pleasure, being close.

He kissed the top of my head. And as for dreams about marriage, well…let’s just say I didn’t grow up with the poster children for passionate romance. I didn’t try to imagine what my marriage would look like exactly, except I knew I wanted anything but what my parents had.

I snuggled in closer to him in sympathy. I know.

We stood in silence, pensive until he drew back, moving his hands from my waist to my face. Even though I didn’t spend time as a teenager picturing it, it’s going to be a great day. No matter what dress you end up with, you’re going to be the hottest girl in that church, hands down!

I grinned up at him.

And my parents’ marriage aside, I can’t wait to marry you!

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Faith? Mom is saying and I snap back to the present.

Mom, it’s amazing! Where did you find it?

She waves her hand. It was tucked in between all these others, but it doesn’t matter. What do you think?

I finger the neckline—so soft, and say, Is it my size?

She beams. Yep! I think this is it, Faith!

I take a whole armload into the dressing room, including all of Amanda’s recommendations, but there’s only one I intend to try on. I slip it on first, not allowing myself even a peek at it in the small mirror. I want my first sight of it to be in the full surround mirrors outside the door. But before I even step out, I know it’s the one. It feels like it was designed specifically for me.

Judging by Mom and Grace’s expressions, I’m right. I face away from the mirrors as Mom spreads out the train and Grace finishes fastening the buttons on the back.

Faith, it’s incredible, Grace purrs.

Mom’s face is alight with excitement. But she says nothing, as if there are no words. When they have it all ready, she signals for me to turn. I close my eyes, inhale deeply, and rotate. As though everything rides on the reflection I’m about to see.

I shut out all the ambient noises and voices next to me and open my eyes. My breath catches in my throat. Not only is it the right size, it hugs my torso in all the right places. The V neck comes to a point just far enough to show cleavage only if you’re standing close and looking straight down, as Gabe will be. Yet it’s modest enough if you’re not. Gabe will love that. I look forward to tantalizing him during the ceremony. It will add to the anticipation of that night.

As amazing as it was on the hanger, it’s magnified when I’m inside it to fill it out. I feel like that queen, that all eyes will have no choice but to be drawn to me, whether they’re supposed to be watching the bride or not. All the prom dresses in the world couldn’t conjure up such beauty.

It’s just a dress and yet, seeing myself in it is an experience unlike I’ve ever had. Childhood dreams and recent memories rush before me: all the excitement and pain, the expectations and unforeseen turns, the loss of Gabe’s love and the gain of Hope. The vision I can’t take my eyes off represents the culmination of my entire life up to this point.

Inexplicably, even as Amanda is asking, It’s beautiful, but shouldn’t we try on a couple more just to be sure? I feel all the doubt and apprehension about Gabe I’d been wrestling with fade away. Suddenly, it all feels right.

Mom and Grace are shaking their heads in answer to Mrs. Scott’s questions but waiting for my response before they speak. I exchange glances with them. No, this is it, I whisper. It’s…

And all three of us say in unison, grinning, …perfect.

Chapter 2

Gabe

Gabe, stop, we can’t, Faith’s lips tickle against mine as she speaks.

I open my eyes and groan. I know she’s right, but I sneak a few more kisses.

I can’t help myself, you’re so sexy, Faith, comes my husky reply.

She smiles and returns my kiss before she pulls back. Her arms remain around my neck, though as she says, I’m sorry. I seem to have that effect on men. Her tone is light, but her voice is just as thick with desire as mine.

You sound like me, I mutter, recalling the times I’ve said that, only half-jokingly, back when I thought I was God’s gift to women.

You’re irresistible to men, too? she teases.

I roll my eyes but can’t stifle a smile. She’s cute when she teases me. You know what I mean.

She just grins. Then she glances down at her chest where I’ve inadvertently been resting my hand. I snatch it back like her breast has grown hot.

Oh, sorry.

That’s ok, she offers kindly. Or at least it will be in a few months anyway… She trails off as her eyes catch the bulge in my pants.

I untuck my shirt to hide it, my face burning with shame, as it always does when we go too far. I mumble more apologies. I let it happen again! I got too caught up in the moment and lost control of my arousal without even being conscious of it. Though, I’ll admit, it doesn’t take much these days. I want this woman so much; just looking at her does me in. And being alone in my apartment is a death knell.

I’m sorry, too, she repeats, a common refrain for us lately. I really thought having Hope asleep in the next room would be a deterrent… just knowing she could wake up and come in here, ya know?

I nod sheepishly, not wanting to admit I’d almost completely forgotten our daughter was here. Yeah… but if we’re being honest, the kid sleeps like a rock, so I’m not sure it helps much.

Well, at least that’ll be a good thing for privacy when we’re married, she offers weakly.

Yeah… I repeat, thinking.

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Mr. B had warned me about this. I’d been with a lot of women in the months after Faith had moved out, so I wasn’t exactly in the habit of depriving myself of sex whenever the need arose in me. He said this would be a new experience for me, practicing self-control, learning how to let the Spirit empower me to do things (or not do them, in this case) I wasn’t able to before and wouldn’t be able to now without His help.

Purity in a relationship is hard for every Christian couple in love, but when you’ve already experienced intimacy between you before, it’s even more difficult, he’d explained. Basically—I don’t have to guess what it’s like with Faith or what she looks like naked—I know what I’m missing.

Besides, he’d added with a smirk, ultimately, it’s a good sign that you’re struggling to keep your hands off Faith.

My face must have registered shock—this is his daughter—because he laughed.

How’s that exactly?

Well, he expounded, leaning back in his usual chair at the coffee shop, it indicates that you still love each other deeply, still want each other, even after all you’ve been through. Frankly, I’d be worried if you didn’t. It will serve your marriage well to have that passion.

I squirmed in my seat. I’ve never had this direct of a conversation about sex with an older man in my life. He laughed again.

And the fact that you’re struggling with it instead of giving in to the desire means you want to honor the Lord and respect Faith. That’s new for you, right? I nodded. So, that’s growth. Also a good sign.

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Now, with Faith leaning against me, the smell of her shampoo in my nostrils and the taste of her still on my tongue, I know exactly what he meant.

Reluctantly, I scoot over on the couch to put some space between us, leaning my head back and exhaling loudly.

D**n, this is hard! My head pops up as I catch myself. Uh, I mean, dang, this is hard, I correct with less feeling. Also hard: breaking the cussing habit.

Faith smiles not drawing attention to my slip. Yeah, you could say that… Even harder than it used to be, I think.

I say nothing, then she starts to giggle. Irritation bubbles in me. My struggle is funny to her?

I frown. What? It’s not funny, Faith; I’m really burning here!

That just makes her laugh harder. I’m frustrated with her, but I notice it’s at least having the desired effect on my nether regions.

She shakes her head. I’m not laughing at you, babe… I was just thinking that now you sound like me!

I frown. What are you talking about?

She dots the tears from the corners of her eyes. Clearly the sexual tension has made her giddy.

Okay, so it’s not really that funny, but I was just thinking of when we were living together and you started impacting me and I found myself almost saying cuss words. You made fun of me when I’d correct myself.

Yeah, you were pretty tightly wound.

You were a bad influence on me, mister.

So now you’re just returning the favor, huh?

Guess so.

Although, there was that one time when you didn’t correct yourself, I goad.

She looks surprised. What? What are you talking about?

A smile works its way out as I remember how adorable she looked when she was horrified at herself for letting it slip.

Oh, you know, when we had that big fight and you called me a ba***rd, I put it out there, knowing she’ll react to hearing the word.

Her jaw drops. Gabe! You don’t have to repeat it!

I laugh, enjoying her discomfort. So you do remember it!

She smacks my arm, biting back a smile. Of course I remember my great moment of shame!

I chuckle harder. Let’s see… I tick them off with my fingers. "You emptied out your college fund, ran away from home, lost your virginity to your pagan boyfriend, and returned home pregnant and penniless…and that’s your great moment of shame?"

She tries to act offended, but I’m wearing her defenses down. Well…I didn’t mean that was the only… I mean, it was one of a string of mistakes—I—

I tickle her and kiss her head. Faith, I’m just messing with you.

Begrudgingly she laughs. Well, you did deserve it, though.

Yes, I admit it. I was a ba***rd. Guilty as charged.

Her eyes flash as she pushes me. You’re impossible.

I shrug. Ah, God knows I’m just repeating it to get a rise out of you. He’s probably laughing, too.

She rolls her eyes and pushes off the couch. Whatever you wanna tell yourself, pal. She stretches and looks down at me, her cheeks still flush. I wish I could say your cavalier attitude toward profanity was a turn-off, but amazingly, it’s not… And I know He wasn’t laughing at that! she finishes, pointing at where she was sitting, as though the couch was at fault.

I stand up next to her, serious finally. No, you’re right. We messed up again. That was my bad, I’m sorry. I sigh, taking her face in my hands. I hate admitting I’m too weak to be left alone with my fiancé, for crying out loud, but…

She smiles sadly. …but, yeah, we can’t handle it.

I nod and kiss her forehead—safe enough.

And I hate to admit that my sister, of all people, just might be right about that whole ‘not kissing before the wedding’ thing…

I fling my hands out. Whoa, let’s not go that far!

She gives me a mischievous look. Well, we’d have a lot of lost time to make up for on our honeymoon that way…

And there go my righteous thoughts right back into the gutter. I shake my head and move away from her toward the bedroom where Hope’s pack ‘n play is set up. You’re just trying to rile me up, aren’t you? You’re devious, Faith Brooks!

She laughs, enjoying my suffering. Told you; you’re a bad influence on me!

I approach the door. I’m going to carry our daughter to the car now and send you home before I do something we’ll both regret.

As I slip in and carefully scoop up Hope, I mutter to myself, And then take a very cold shower.

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Gabriel, how could you even consider that? comes Mom’s shrill voice from the other room.

I close my eyes. Crap, I was hoping she wouldn’t notice.

Consider what, ma? I call back, feigning ignorance, just to stall. Faith smirks next to me.

I hear Mom’s heels clicking on the hardwood floor before her befuddled face appears in the doorway of the living room where Faith and I sit together on the couch. She holds up a sheet of paper accusingly.

This! Your list of groomsmen. Why is your brother toward the end of the list?

Uh, because Scott is toward the end of the alphabet? I try, knowing it won’t fly.

Don’t be ridiculous! This isn’t alphabetized and it’s certainly not by last name!

So literal, that woman. She’s also rarely upset, so it’s hard to take her scolding seriously.

It was a joke, Mom.

Don’t be smart with me, Gabriel Scott, she warns and I roll my eyes. Faith shifts awkwardly beside me—her tell that she’s uncomfortable.

Why isn’t Garrett listed as your best man? she challenges, finally getting to the point.

Well, I auditioned them all, and he really wasn’t the ‘best man’ for the job, so… is my last attempt at keeping this light. Mom huffs. Faith jabs me in the back to say that’s enough teasing.

Mom, your best man is supposed to be your best friend. Garrett’s not my best friend, simple as that. Besides, do you really want him doing the toast at the reception? He’ll humiliate us all!

Mom puts her hand on her hip. Not a good sign. Gabe, what are you talking about, he’s your brother! You’ve always been close!

When we were in elementary school, maybe!

You’re still close!

If wishing could make it so. Garrett and I are polar opposites. Possibly the only thing we see eye to eye on is how messed up our family is… And Faith. He’s always liked her.

I don’t understand. He’ll be so hurt. He’s family!

Then she lays it on thick. What she’s best at. Subtle she’s not.

Look, I know you’re used to being on your own and only having to think of yourself— I feel Faith tense beside me, ready to come to my defense, I hope, but she holds back, still hesitant with Mom.

And you’re an artist so— she inserts as though it’s a dirty word.

Wait—what’s that supposed to mean? I interject. So not only are musicians inferior to athletes, but we’re selfish, too?

Mom ignores me. —But still I think you can find it in your heart to consider your family for once. What will Garrett think? It’ll be a slight. What will our guests think?

Now my blood is boiling. This is wrong on so many levels. Unfortunately, when God saved me, He didn’t instantly remove my temper.

I scoff. Ma, I’m marrying the woman I forced to drop out of high school and knocked up, the proof of our impropriety will be walking down the aisle as our flower girl. Faith flinches. And you’re worried people are going to care that Gabe and I aren’t BFFs?

I can tell Faith is surprised at my brashness, but sometimes you have to shock Mom into listening. Faith puts a calming hand on my arm. She has that effect on me. She squeezes, a reminder that self-control is a fruit of the Spirit. At once, I’m grateful for her presence, but irritated that she’s not sticking up for me. It’s not lost on me that Grace wouldn’t be able to bite her tongue like this in the face of opposition—the sister who still hates me.

As Mom is about to reload, I hold up my hand and force a breath. Ok, Ma, I got it. I heard you. I—I’ll think about it, ok?

She opens her mouth, closes it again, folds her arms across her chest. Fine, she concedes tightly and storms off—clearly not fine.

I turn back to Faith and can’t read her expression.

What? Brilliant, I know, but it’s all I can think to say at the moment.

She shrugs. Nothing. I didn’t say anything.

That’s the problem. I know you have an opinion. Spit it out.

Her face closes off. I take her hands, soften my tone.

Sorry, baby. I mean, I want to hear what you think. You didn’t say anything. You just let Mom insult me. It’s true what I said, right? You don’t agree with her, do you?

Yes! No! I mean, yes what you said was true. She was trying to manipulate you. And no, I don’t agree with her. You only get married once; you should be able to pick whomever you want to be your best man.

Exactly.

It doesn’t matter what others think—this is our day. Besides, she continues with a bite to her tone, as you so bluntly pointed out, we’ve given them enough fodder to judge us as it is. I knew we were going to circle back to that one. And she’s more oblivious than I thought if she doesn’t know Garrett well enough to know he’ll probably be relieved not to have to perform the duties of a best man.

Right? I agree. Heck, he’ll be more worried about which bridesmaid he’s paired up with than that he’s not the guy next to me!

A smile eeks out. Better make sure to put him opposite one of my hot, single friends then.

Yeah and avoid your sister. Not only is she way too young for him, but—

She’d eat him alive, she finishes.

I chortle at the image and make my voice gravelly. Grace, the man-eater. I laugh. "On the other hand, maybe he needs someone to put him in his place. If possible, he may even have a bigger head than I do!"

She shakes her head, smiles slyly. Doubt it.

I narrow my eyes as she tries to kiss the edge off her words. I kiss her back, but don’t let it drop.

So, is that it, is that why you didn’t defend me? You think I’m still that egotistical, selfish guy you called a bast—

Gabe, stop. I hate when you cuss—

Hey, you said it, I’m just repeating—

That was a long time ago and I was mad at you. And you could at least spell it out! Besides, it’s not funny anymore, at least not in this moment.

Feeling like a jerk, but not willing to let it go, I push on. So…what then? Do you think that?

What are you talking about?

What Mom said—or implied. That ‘artists’ are selfish.

"I’m an artist, Gabe. Why would I agree with that?"

What the—? No, not in this context you’re not. You’re still the perfect, can-do-no-wrong girl who made her a grandma. Me—she was calling me selfish. And you didn’t contradict her. So, you think I’m selfish? I’m getting heated again.

Her jaw clenches. No, you’re not selfish. You’re just the guy who ‘knocked me up and made me a disgraceful high school drop-out!’ She spits out and I’m taken aback at her sharpness.

Is that what’s eating at you?

Her eyes flash. I don’t know, Gabe. Is that what I am to you? Just the girl you got pregnant and now have to marry? She’s being irrational again so, clearly, I hit a nerve.

Of course not! Faith, come on, be fair. I chose to come back, remember? I wanted you and Hope in my life. I squeeze her hands. She doesn’t squeeze back, but she doesn’t pull away, either.

Look, I’m sorry I was so—blunt. I came crawling back to you, humbled and broken, desperate to gain your forgiveness and earn your love back. Because I realized when we were apart how much I’d lost when you left. How much I needed you…how much I still loved you.

She practically melts in front of me, her defenses down. You’re right, I’m sorry. I know you love us. She kisses my cheek. I love you too.

And you don’t think I’m selfish, at least not in this case? I know I sound insecure, but her view of me matters.

No, I don’t. I think your mom was out of line with that comment. She doesn’t know you anymore, hasn’t really been around the ‘new’ Gabe much.

True… So why didn’t you say that? Back me up?

I—well part of it was that she’s not my mom. I don’t have the kind of relationship with her where I feel free to speak up—yet. Maybe that will come…

Not likely…

Remains to be seen, I guess. She sighs, pulls one hand free and places it on my chest."

And the other part?

Well, the other part is… I didn’t feel comfortable with how you talked to her. I didn’t see much of the ‘new’ Gabe, either. The kind, patient one I fell in love with when he came back to me.

I bristle, though I know she’s right. Okay, granted, I could’ve been nicer to her, but you don’t know Amanda Scott—like you said—she doesn’t hear subtlety, she doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. She’s not like your mom.

She looks skeptical. You don’t think you could have expressed the same thing more respectfully, though?

I sigh, stroke her hand. Yeah, I mean, sure. I could have and probably should have. She doesn’t deserve it, but that whole honor your father and mother thing, right?

She smiles. Yes that little command is what I was referring to.

Okay, yeah I should—I will—next time. I’m still learning this whole Christian thing… But what I have learned about my mom is that you can’t just be honest with her and share how you feel. If it’s not kosher with her or makes her uncomfortable, in any way, she’ll find some way to belittle it, twist it, or flat out ignore it.

She strokes my cheek. I know, Gabe. As I’ve just seen first-hand. I’m sorry about that. I take for granted that I have such…reasonable parents.

You’re lucky. The Brookses are the coolest.

Yeah, well we have our own dysfunctions, everyone does—but talking is one thing we do well.

I guess I’ll have to learn some things from you guys, huh?

She flashes a sad smile. I guess.

We’re quiet for a minute. Then I tilt my head to look her in the eye.

Are you really that concerned about my mom and how she feels?

She avoids my eyes. Well, yes, but there is something else…

I lift her chin. Faith.

It’s—it may be—I may be making too much of it, but…

But, what?

They say—whoever ‘they’ is—that you can tell how a man will treat you after you’re married by…

By, what?

Then it dawns on me, just as she says, …by how he treats his mom.

I exhale, run a hand through my hair. Oh boy.

It sounds silly when I hear it out loud and maybe it’s one of those myths—

I cut her off. No, it actually makes sense. I mean you’re Mom’s polar opposite so I don’t think you have to worry, but still, I get your point. She gives me a grateful smile.

"God still has work to do in me. I’ll try to be more respectful—to all the women in my life. ‘K?

She nods.

C’mere. I pull her toward me and she rests her head on my shoulder and sighs.

Families sure complicate things, don’t they? Especially bringing two very different ones together.

No joke. You know, another thing ‘they’ say that I know is true ‘cause I have grandparents?

She tips her head back to look at me. What’s that?

You don’t just marry the person, you marry the whole family.

She groans in mock displeasure. Oh, no, I’m screwed.

Yep, pretty much. I laugh and kiss her on the mouth. But, hey, we’re in it together, so there’s that.

"Yay, so I get to be manipulated, too!"

I grin down at her. Welcome to the family, baby. The joys of becoming Mrs. Faith Scott have already begun.

She kisses me back. Mmm, I like the sound of that—Faith Scott.

Me, too, can’t wait.

I cradle her face in my hands and kiss her deeply, drinking in the taste of her, her freesia lotion reaching my nose and bringing back the associations I have with that scent. Good ones. Intimate memories.

Man, I want this woman—all of her.

Faith lingers with one last kiss, nipping my bottom lip with her teeth as she draws back, just to tantialize me—tease that she is.

A mischievous expression plays on her face as she puts her head back on my shoulders, so I don’t have access to her lips and quips, Yeah, but unfortunately we do have to wait.

Darn, it always comes back to that.

I settle for kissing the top of her head and feeling her snuggle closer to me. I’m reminded of all the years I waited when we were dating, how patient I was. Why is it so much harder now?

Maybe because then I loved her—however incomplete my conception of love was—but even more I lusted after her. It was a challenge to get her to bend her convictions, a little bit at a time, small victories. And of course, I had no qualms about satisfying myself afterward. Now, I’m trying to stay pure and honor Faith’s convictions, which are also becoming mine. It’s way harder than I anticipated!

Now I don’t just want her body, I love her for real—and that makes it so dang hard. And what’s really hard to admit, as a man, is how much I need her too. If that makes me desperate or puts me at her mercy or whatever—so be it.

I need Faith Brooks to be my wife and I’m counting the days until she’s mine.

Chapter 3

Grace

Thanks for helping us, Grace, we really appreciate it, Faith says to me as we sit at the kitchen table, wedding invitations and supplies spread out before us. In nice, neat stacks, thanks to me.

Sure, I enjoy this kind of thing, actually, I answer. Maybe that makes me a nerd, but…

Gabe, sitting between Faith and I, fakes a cough. I glare at him and he just smiles back.

You’re not supposed to agree with me.

He holds his hands up in surrender. What? I didn’t say anything. He tries to play innocent but can’t suppress his teasing grin. It’s hard to be mad at him when he dons that disarming smile.

Faith rolls her eyes and smacks Gabe in the arm. "Oh stop, Gabe. He’s just busting your chops, Grace. What he meant to say, is that we are grateful for your clerical skills, since neither of us has any! And it’s not nerdy, it’s…efficient."

Exactly what my cough meant, Gabe insists.

Yeah, sure. I make a face at him, and he chuckles.

Gabe also knows if you weren’t helping, we’d be here twice as long, so he’s not knocking anyone.

Gabe gives an exaggerated nod. Yep, sure do. I don’t want to spend any more time on my Saturday than I have to doing this.

Faith gives him a look and he hastily adds, "Much as I love the company at this table."

She shakes her head, smiling. Yeah, yeah, just keep stuffing those envelopes pal. She tosses another stack at him for emphasis. Before getting yourself into too much trouble.

Who’s in trouble? comes Noah’s curious voice as he and Dad enter the kitchen.

Definitely not me, buddy, Gabe says, fist-bumping Noah. I’m a choir boy.

You’re in a choir?

Gabe laughs and hoists Noah onto one leg. It’s just an expression. Anyway, wanna help me seal envelopes?

Noah crinkles his nose. Nah, I don’t like that job. It makes my tongue feel funny… But I can do the stamps! I’m good at that! I can get ‘em right, perfect in the corner, right, Dad?

Dad ruffles Noah’s hair. Right, Mom tells me you’re an expert. You did all the Christmas cards last year, didn’t you?

Noah beams proudly. Yep!

Faith pushes a roll of stamps and a short stack of finished envelopes toward Noah (the only ones Gabe’s completed so far).

Sure, Noah, we’d love the help. Especially from an ‘expert.’

Don’t you have to leave for Timmy’s party soon? I ask.

Dad nods. Yeah, we were actually on our way out, but you can help for a few minutes, Noah, while I get some things together. He puts a hand on Faith’s shoulder, surveying the table.

This is quite an operation you have going here, he comments. A regular assembly line.

Faith motions to me. It’s all Grace. Her system.

I dismiss it. Really, guys, it’s not that complicated. It’s wedding invitations, not heart surgery.

Dad smiles. Well, still, I’m impressed. Good job helping out, Gracie. You’re very…efficient.

Gabe, Faith and I share a look and laugh.

Twice in one day, Grace, it must be true.

I reward Gabe’s compliment with a smile. Thanks. Guess there are worse things to be known for.

Yeah, like having bad handwriting, Gabe quips, then to Noah, They don’t think my writing is ‘pretty’ enough for their fancy invitations.

Dad chuckles and claps Gabe on the back. Don’t take it personally, Gabe. None of us guys have neat enough penmanship for this important of a task.

Faith snorts. Neat is an understatement.

They need to be legible at the very least, I add, smirking at Gabe who’s feigning offense. I promise, it’s not a conspiracy.

Dad smiles. Face it, Gabe and Noah. Weddings are a woman’s domain. Eventually you learn to just smile, nod, and say ‘whatever you want, dear.’

Gabe pretends to write it down. Got it. Good tip.

Dad says he’ll be back to fetch Noah in a few minutes and leaves.

You know, we could avoid this altogether if we just forget the wedding and elope, Gabe goads Faith.

What’s ‘lope? Noah inquires.

I explain it to him.

That’s no fun; we wouldn’t get to see you get married!

Don’t worry, Noah, Faith assures him, not happening.

We could save a lot of money, Gabe pushes, trying unsuccessfully to sound serious.

Sure, at the expense of robbing your wife of the day she’s been dreaming about and longing for since childhood, I jab. "If it’s worth that high a price to you. If you want to be that guy."

Gabe laughs. One wedding dress: $500, 1 ring: $750, giving your love the wedding of her dreams: priceless.

Faith pats his arm. Now you’re getting it, babe.

Gabe tilts his head, considering. Althooough… It would mean avoiding the manipulation of one over-zealous, over-involved mother-in-law who shall remain nameless, he pitches to Faith.

Faith stops what she’s doing, as though she’d actually entertain it. Mmm, that is tempting…

I know they’d never actually go through with it, but that Faith would even hesitate, makes me realize how much Amanda Scott had rattled her.

She’d told me about the conversation and fight that followed. I felt for her being caught in the middle and it gave me greater insight into Gabe.

"Just kidding, baby, I’d never do that to you. If I’m your Prince Charming, I’ve got to make your dreams come true,