02_Groom of Her Own (28 page)

But then why arrange this elaborate ruse to get her here tonight? she wondered with a puzzled frown. It wasn’t as if he was giving her any special attention. In fact, except for a brief glance in her direction when he entered, as if to assure himself that she was there, he hadn’t made eye contact with her once. Which was fine, of course. She preferred it this way. It would be much more difficult to keep her emotions in check if he looked at her with those probing, insightful eyes of his.

But still the question remained: Why did he want her here tonight? Sam didn’t have a clue.

Brad launched into his well-prepared talk, and Sam was struck by the mellow, soothing quality of his voice, which she’d first noticed at Laura’s wedding. Now, as then, she found it restful and comforting. Of course, his topic was another story. As she’d discovered, the notion of forgiveness was good in theory. But practical applications were another matter. Some things, obviously, just couldn’t be forgiven.

As Brad neared the end of his talk, Sam began to plan her escape. She figured he must be hoping to waylay her after the lecture, and she didn’t intend to give him the chance. As soon as he finished, she would head for the exit door to her right. She started to lean over to tell Laura that she’d be back later to pick her up, but Brad suddenly closed his notes and looked directly at her. His intense eyes locked onto hers with a riveting gaze, and the words died in her throat.

“Tonight we’ve talked about the Biblical context of forgiveness and the theory behind it,” he said. “And as we’ve seen, this topic receives a great deal of attention from Scripture writers. But before I close, I’d like to focus for a few moments on the practical applications of forgiveness.”

Sam swallowed with difficulty, and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. She stared at him, frozen in position, as she listened to words that seemed directed at her alone.

“Forgiveness is a concept that all of us embrace as Christians. I preach about it frequently, in fact. It is an admirable quality that we all strive to practice. But because we’re human, we often fail.

“We know what the Scripture says. Matthew tells us not to judge, so that we may not be judged. And he tells us that we must forgive not seven times, but seventy times seven. In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul reminds us that we should be kind to one another, and merciful, forgiving each other as the Lord generously forgives us. And when he wrote to the Colossians, he repeated that message. In Ezechiel we read about the new life that comes to those who repent and do what is right and just And he offers us hope, promising that none of our wrongs will be remembered if we practice virtue.

“My friends, those are powerful words. They capture one of the most beautiful elements of our faith—the recognition that people are human and do make mistakes, but that the Lord offers forgiveness and a ‘second chance’ to those who repent.

“As we strive to practice our faith, let us also remember that judgment belongs to the Lord. That while we can judge whether a
behavior
is right or wrong, only the Lord can judge a person. Because only He knows what is in our hearts. If we have judged someone, and hurt them by doing so, let us resolve to mend that hurt. Let us find the courage to say ‘I’m sorry’ and ask for their forgiveness. If the Lord is willing to give us a second chance, can we do any less for each other?

“And while we’re forgiving each other, let us not forget to forgive ourselves. Sometimes that’s the hardest kind of forgiveness of all to practice. Maybe we carry a burden of guilt over something from our past, which continues to color our lives today. Let us go to the Lord with that guilt, and let us place it in His hands, along with our request for forgiveness. I promise you, He won’t turn away.

“I know that forgiveness isn’t easy to practice, especially when someone you love fails you, or hurts you, or doesn’t truly hear your plea for understanding. But don’t turn away. Don’t cut that person off. Give him another chance. Forgive him for not being there when you needed him most. For failing to demonstrate his love. Give him the chance to say ‘I’m sorry.’ Remember that broken relationships
can
be mended. All it takes is forgiveness born of love. And love is the key. Because, as the Bible tells us, love never fails.”

Sam sat numbly as the audience responded to Brad’s words with enthusiastic applause. He continued to hold her eyes, as if trying to read her reaction. She knew his beautiful words of healing, spoken from the heart, had been meant for her. Was it possible that he had accepted her past, after all, that he still loved her? she wondered incredulously. Somehow it seemed too much to hope for. She gazed at him uncertainly, questioningly…and at the warmth and reassurance in his eyes a tiny flame of hope stirred among the cold embers of her heart.

The moderator stepped forward to thank Brad, and he reluctantly turned away to shake the woman’s hand. Sam blinked rapidly and groped for a tissue in her purse, trying to calm her frantically beating pulse.

Laura leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Sam, don’t worry about giving me a ride home. Nick’s picking me up later. We arranged it ahead of time.”

Sam nodded mutely, too overwhelmed with emotion to speak.

Laura gave her arm an encouraging squeeze and joined the crowd moving toward the door. Sam remained seated, her eyes on Brad, who was still talking to the moderator. Eons passed before the woman finally shook his hand and exited.

For a long moment Brad gazed at her in silence from the small stage. Then he slowly moved toward her, lowering himself to an adjacent folding chair when he reached her. Sam’s eyes lovingly tracing the strong line of his jaw and his firm but tender lips, connecting at last with his eyes to bask in their tender warmth. He angled himself toward her, draping an arm across the back of her chair, and Sam had a sudden urge to reach over and smooth away the deep lines of fatigue in his face. She stifled the impulse with difficulty, clasping her hands tightly together in her lap instead, waiting apprehensively for him to speak.

“Thank you for coming tonight, Sam,” Brad said quietly.

“Laura didn’t give me much choice,” she replied softly, glancing down. The rapid rise and fall of her chest clearly indicated her unsteady emotions, but she was powerless to control her physical reaction to this unexpected turn of events.

“Don’t hold it against her. It was my idea.”

“I figured as much.”

“When you wouldn’t return my calls, I couldn’t think of any other way to tell you how I felt.”

She ventured a glance at him. “It sounded like
you
were apologizing to
me,”
she said hesitantly.

“I was.”

“But…but I’m the one who should apologize. I should have told you a long time ago about my past.”

“Why didn’t you, Sam?” he asked gently. There was no recrimination in his voice, only curiosity.

She looked down again. “I guess because I…I was afraid you’d reject me. I never felt worthy of your love, and I figured once you found out about my past you’d feel the same way.” She looked up at him, her eyes pleading for understanding. “I meant to tell you, Brad. Honestly I did. But the more involved we became, the less I wanted to lose you. And so I just kept waiting…and waiting… until finally it…it was too late,” she said, her voice breaking.

He reached over and stroked her cheek, and Sam quivered beneath his tender touch. “It’s not too late, Sam,” he said gently. “At least, I hope not.”

She looked up at him, the flame of hope in her heart beginning to blaze more brightly. “What do you mean?” she asked cautiously.

“I mean I love you,” he replied with simple, straightforward honesty. “I did last Saturday, before all this happened. And I do now.”

“But how can you? After what I did?” she asked uncomprehendingly. “And it…it didn’t seem like you did last Saturday. You were so…distant…that night.”

He sighed. “My only excuse is that I was in shock. I was having a hard time coping with everything you told me. It was like information overload or something. And I was judgmental, which was wrong,” he admitted. “Only you and the Lord know what was in your heart seventeen years ago. You were a desperate teenager, pregnant with a child your husband didn’t want and with no one to turn to for help. I didn’t know you then, Sam. I can only grieve for your pain and the burden of guilt you’ve carried all these years. But I know you now. And I know that you’re one of the most sensitive, considerate, caring people I’ve ever had the privilege to meet. And I think you were that kind of person back then, too. I think that’s why you were so devastated by what happened.”

He reached for her hand, cradling it between his.

“That’s why you never married again, isn’t it?” he said gently. “Because you felt that by denying yourself the happiness and joy of love, you could in some way make amends for what you did.”

“Yes,” she confirmed, her quavering voice barely audible as she lowered her head in shame.

“Well, let me tell you what I think, Sam,” he said, his own voice steady and sure. “You spent seventeen years alone and lonely, atoning for what you did. I suspect the Lord would ask no more than that. And neither would I.”

Tentatively Sam raised her head and stared at him. His gaze was direct and unwavering, and she couldn’t doubt the sincerity of his words. But there was still another issue.

“What about…what about the family you always wanted, Brad? I can’t promise you that.”

“I know. I thought about that a lot,” he admitted. “I love children, Sam. I’ve never made a secret of that. I think a loving family is the greatest gift the Lord can bestow. You and I happen to know, going in, that the odds are against us. But even if they weren’t, there’s no guarantee that we’d be blessed with children. Rachel and I weren’t. There was no reason that the doctors could detect. It just never happened. We finally accepted it as the Lord’s will.”

He paused and looked down, running the tips of his fingers over the back of her hand for a moment before continuing. “The fact is, Sam, my love for you isn’t contingent on whether you can have children. I’d like children, yes. But if that means giving you up, there’s no contest. Maybe we’ll have children. Maybe we’ll adopt. I don’t know. I do know that I love you, and with or without children I believe we can have a full and rich life together.” Brad paused, reached into his pocket and withdrew the familiar small velvet case. Sam’s heart stopped, then raced on.

“I got the house, Sam,” he said.

She nodded, her eyes locked on the case in his hands. “I know.”

“You do?”

“Leslie told me.”

“Ah. I should have guessed. Well, it’s a great house, Sam. But I really don’t want to live there alone.” He paused, and Sam tore her eyes away from the case to gaze up at him. The smile he gave her was warm and tender and filled with the hope of spring, even though the month was August. “I tried this once before without much success, but I’m nothing if not persistent,” he said with a crooked grin. He flipped open the case, and Sam stared down at the solitaire sparkling against the velvet lining. “The offer is still open, Sam, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?” he asked huskily.

She gazed up at him and nodded mutely, overcome by a flood of emotions. Joy. Gratitude. Relief. Awe. And love. Mostly love.

Brad smiled and removed the ring from the case, cradling her hand in his as he slipped the solitaire on her finger.

Sam gazed down at it for a moment, but the dazzle of the sparkling stone paled in comparison to the radiant glow on her face when she looked back up at him. “I love you, Brad Matthews,” she said, her voice choked with emotion as her eyes caressed the contours of his face.

“The feeling is definitely mutual,” he replied, his own voice none too steady. And as his lips closed over hers, in a tender kiss that spoke more eloquently than words of commitment, caring and the promise of a future shared, Sam’s last, lingering doubts vanished. Here, in his arms, was where she belonged. For always.

“I guess we’re on, Sam,” Henry said nervously, adjusting the unfamiliar bow tie.

Though her own nerves were quivering, she smiled reassuringly and linked her arm in his. “I guess we are.”

“You sure do look pretty,” he said shyly.

Sam glanced down at the cream-colored lace sheath. The scalloped hem ended modestly just above her knees, and the long sleeves were demure. But the neckline—cut straight across, the scalloped edge revealing an enticing glimpse of creamy skin on her shoulders—gave the dress “Sam pizzazz,” to use Laura’s term.

“Thanks, Henry. So do you. That tux suits you.”

“Do you think so? I never wore one before.”

“It’s perfect.”

The music suddenly changed, and Sam drew a deep breath, her fingers tightening on the small bouquet of cream-colored roses and holly sprigs in her hand. “Well, this is it.”

The doors opened, and they moved forward slowly into the candlelit church. Christmas was still two days away, but Brad’s congregation had pitched in to complete the decorating in time for the wedding. Poinsettias adorned the altar, and fir trees draped in twinkling white lights stood on each side, adding a magical touch to the scene. Sam’s gaze skimmed over the sea of smiling faces, coming to rest on Rebecca and Laura who stood in front to the left. Their elegant, gored, forest-green velvet dresses, with cowl necklines and low-cut backs, complemented the festive setting, as did their bouquets of red roses and holly.

Sam’s gaze connected with Laura’s, and for a long moment of linked eyes—and hearts—a wealth of understanding passed between them. Both had come so far in such a short time. Nine months before, when Sam had made her way down this aisle as Laura’s maid of honor, she would never have believed that it would soon be her turn to walk down the same aisle as a bride. And yet it had happened. Thanks to Brad.

Sam turned then to gaze at the man who would soon be her husband. Her husband, she repeated in silent wonder, still finding it hard to believe. Lovingly she let her eyes drink in his tall form. Not surprisingly, he looked wonderful in his tux. Handsome. Distinguished.
Stalwart.
It was an old word, but it fit him.