Threat of Darkness(69)

 There was one more astounding element. Not only had Sam’s estranged mother returned to town to attend the ceremony, Brother Malloy had refereed a family reunion   of sorts and Samantha’s father was set to walk her down the aisle.

 This breakthrough didn’t mean that all their past differences had been settled and all the hurt erased, but it was a good start.

 John was waiting at the front of the sanctuary with his best man, Chief Kelso, when Samantha stepped into view.

 The congregation stood and turned to watch her approach. Her gown was simple yet elegant, her veil as light as butterfly wings floating around her head and shoulders.

 The moment John saw her radiance and watched her take her father’s arm, he knew. This was not merely an act of obedience to tradition, she had truly forgiven. There was nothing more he could ask for her sake.

 For himself, he prayed fervently that he would be the kind of husband who made Samantha proud to be his wife.

 Her gaze met his and held it. She smiled.

 John’s heart was galloping and he felt himself sway slightly.

 One more slow step. Then another. And another.

 She released her father’s arm and reached out to John.

 He took her hand.

 They turned to face the altar, together, as the music faded away.

 The pastor cleared his throat. “Dearly beloved…”

* * * * *

If you liked this book, be sure to look for

STANDING GUARD, the next story in

Valerie Hansen’s series THE DEFENDER,

coming in September, only from

Love Inspired Suspense.






Small-Town

Romance

Arlene James





ONE

Music filled the darkened sanctuary, the tones of the old upright piano flowing in continuous harmony. Becca Inman sat in the circle of light emanating from the cylindrical lamp affixed to the top of the music desk, thinking that the petite grand at home produced a rounder, cleaner quality of note. As the keys moved beneath her nimble fingers, however, she acknowledged that nothing quite stirred the soul like playing musical praise in God’s house. Perhaps if she could remember that she could get through the worship service on Sunday morning.

 It was indicative of Becca’s life that she should be sitting here—alone—on Valentine’s Day night practicing to be a stand-in for her sister, Bethany, as the pianist of the First Church of Eden, Oklahoma. An ice storm had paralyzed the region the week before, and Bethany’s husband, Stark, thought that she needed to be whisked away to Mexico for a break from the cold and gloom. Stark owned his own business and Bethany worked part-time for their father so the couple could pick up and go pretty much as they pleased. Becca, on the other hand, had the care of their disabled maternal grandmother Dorothy Taylor, as well as her job as assistant librarian and choral teacher at Eden Memorial High School to tie her down.

 Somehow, at thirty-three, life seemed to have passed Becca by while her twenty-seven-year-old baby sister, adored by her husband, sunned herself on a beach on a whim. Then again, Becca would have been too shy to leave her hotel room. She’d have worried that the streaks of premature silver in her curly pale blond hair would stand out like laser beams in broad daylight, or that her baby-pink skin would instantly burn to an ashy crisp beneath the Mexican sun. She’d have imagined that everyone was staring at her skinny, too-long legs and were whispering that her bathing suit revealed a less womanly shape than that of an eleven-year-old boy. A five-foot-nine-inch tall eleven-year-old boy, at that.

 Not that it mattered. She could not have gone swimming in the ocean anyway. Who knew what the salt spray would do to her glasses or contact lenses?

 Grandpa Inman liked to say that God made us all for a purpose, and it seemed entirely evident that Becca’s purpose was to live meekly in the shadows. Thankfully, those shadows offered a measure of respite for a woman too shy to bask in the light.

 At the moment, she was happy that those shadows cloaked the pews. Just thinking about them being filled to capacity on Sunday made her fingers fumble the notes. To get herself back on track, she began to sing the familiar words of the hymn.

 Gladness lifted her heart as her voice rose, and she let the words swell and roll with all the power of the love that she bore for her music and her God. There in that darkened sanctuary she poured that love at the Savior’s feet, taking solace in the Lord Who did not care what she looked like or how inadequate she felt.

 As the last mellow note floated heavenward, she sighed in contentment. Then applause erupted out of the darkness and she jerked back in panicked shock.

 For one insane instant, Becca wondered if she had dreamed her solitude. Perhaps in her debilitating fear of performing before an audience she had merely convinced herself that the pews sat empty and the darkness did not hide staring eyes and listening ears.