Picket Fence Pursuit (18 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Johnson

Tags: #Romance, #Religious, #General, #Christian, #Fiction

BOOK: Picket Fence Pursuit
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Twenty-two

May

Ryan felt the buttons on his tuxedo jacket to be sure he hadn’t missed one. He raked his fingers through his hair.

“Nervous?” Gramps, his best man, poked Ryan’s side.

“A little.”

“No cold feet.” Dalton leaned over past Gramps. He nodded toward his other brothers, Gideon and Cameron, as well as Tyler. “We’ll take you out if you even consider leaving our big sis at the altar.”

Tyler laughed at Ryan. “I believe they could take you, friend.”

Dalton winked and showed his newly covered ring finger. “Nah, seriously. It’s a piece of cake.”

Ryan watched as Dalton waved at his bride, Tanya. She blushed as she fidgeted with one of Amanda’s twin sons. The other started to fuss, and Amanda’s husband picked him up. The only baby girl in the family, Natalie’s new daughter, sat contently on her daddy’s lap.

A laugh formed in Ryan’s gut as he thought of the ever-growing family he was marrying into. He and Gramps had lived so long with only each other. Both of them relished becoming part of Kylie’s family. “Don’t worry, Dalton. I’m not going anywhere.”

“We’re about to begin,” the minister whispered to them.

Ryan straightened his shoulders, watching as one of their ushers escorted Kylie’s tearful mother to her place in the audience. She smiled at Ryan as she scanned the row of groomsmen—his grandfather, all three of her sons, and Tyler. Ryan knew Mrs. Andrews thanked God for each of her children and their choices in spouses. Ryan felt blessed and honored that she and Mr. Andrews approved of him.

The music began and Chloe, Kylie’s youngest sister, made her way to the front. Next came her oldest sister, Sabrina. “Mommy!” her barely two-year-old son yelled from his father’s lap. Everyone laughed as her husband whispered in the small boy’s ear. The child squirmed and waved until Sabrina finally motioned for him to stand beside her at the front. He toddled forward, grabbed her leg, then popped his thumb into his mouth.

“What a cutie,” Gramps whispered.

Ryan nodded. Anticipation welled in him as another sister, Natalie, walked toward the altar. Next came Robin, then Amanda. Kylie had deemed them both her matrons of honor. Ryan squeezed his fists. With all her last-minute errands and hair appointments and whatever else she did, he’d only seen Kylie at the rehearsal and the dinner that followed. They’d hardly spoken two words together that someone else hadn’t instructed them to say. And it was killing him.

Kylie and her father stepped into the aisle. Ryan sucked in his breath.

“She’s a beauty, even with her face covered,” Gramps whispered.

Ryan couldn’t respond. He nodded and asked God to help him remember every detail of his bride as she and her father walked toward him.

“Who gives this woman to this man?” the minister’s voice boomed through the church.

“Her mother and I do.” Kylie’s father lifted the veil over her face and kissed her cheek. Her gaze found Ryan’s. Ready to claim his bride, Ryan puffed out his chest, longing to shout to the world that beautiful Kylie Andrews had chosen him.

He took her hand in his and led her to the altar where they made their vows. The promise, the covenant, the commitment weighed his heart with a heaviness of bliss and contentment. In sickness, in health, in good, in bad, whatever life held, he would honor his vows to the woman God had given him.

When the minister instructed, he kissed her as his wife, then took her hand in his and faced their family and friends.

“I now present to you,” the minister addressed the audience, “Mr. and Mrs. Ryan Watkins.”

Ryan scooped her into his arms and started down the aisle.

“You’re supposed to carry me over the threshold of our
home,” she whispered into his ear, trying to control her giggles.

“I told you I’d never take too long again.” He kissed her cheek.

She nestled into his chest. “You did say never again.”

“Never again.”


Kylie glanced down at her watch, afraid they would miss their plane to Belize. The missions trip in January had been an experience she’d never forget. She’d fallen in love with the people in the community. They were planning another trip in two months, in July. Today, they’d go as honeymooners and visit their friends there. “Are you sure you have to have whatever it is you forgot?”

Ryan smiled and tapped the steering wheel. “I thought I could wait, but I can’t.”

Kylie scrunched up her nose. “What?”

He turned the corner and started toward his house. “Close your eyes, Ki.”

“What is going on?” She clamped her lips in a straight line, trying not to smile at him.

His lips bowed up. He bit the bottom and frowned, in a pitiful attempt not to grin. “Just close them.”

“Okay.” Kylie shut her eyes, then popped one open.

“Kylie Watkins!”

She squished them shut. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me, too.” He stopped the car and hopped out. Everything in Kylie wanted to open her eyes and look around, but she didn’t want to spoil his surprise. Her door opened, and Ryan’s hand took hers.

“Can I open them?”

“Nope.” He gently pushed her head down then out of the car. “Be careful.” He wrapped his arm around her as he guided her steps. Her heels crunched against the gravel driveway. “Okay, open your eyes.”

Kylie opened them to find Gramps standing in front of her, holding a small, golden retriever puppy. “Oh.” Kylie took him in her arms. “He’s so cute.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted a godly husband, two kids”—he gathered her in his arms and whispered in her ear—“which I’m willing to work on. . .”

Her neck and cheeks warmed under his sincere, longing gaze.

He continued, “A dog and—”

She smiled and lifted her eyebrows to tease him. “I think you’re forgetting something.”

“No, Ki, I’m not.” He turned her around, and she gasped. A white picket fence scaled the entire front of his home. One of his handmade poles stood next to the porch with their names written on the sign and two cardinal birds perched on top.

“A white picket fence.” Kylie held the puppy closer to her chest, then gazed up at the man of her dreams. The man who listened to all the things she longed for. The man who wanted her to have them all.

“Oh, Ryan.” She put the puppy down in the yard then touched Ryan’s cheek with her hand. “There isn’t a more wonderful man for me in all the world.”

She stood on tiptoes and kissed his lips. With all her heart, she had pursued what she thought God had called her to—a family, a job, stability. When she finally gave over control to her heavenly Father, He lavished her with everything she had ever pursued. She gazed at her new husband. Only more. Right down to the white picket fence.

About the Author

Jennifer Johnson and her unbelievably supportive husband, Albert, are happily married and raising Brooke, Hayley, and Allie, the three cutest young ladies on the planet. Besides being a middle school teacher, Jennifer loves to read, write, and chauffeur her girls. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers. Blessed beyond measure, Jennifer hopes to always think like a child—bigger than imaginable and with complete faith. Send her a note at [email protected].

Dedication

To my oldest daughter, Brooke. What a treasure you are! I’m so proud of your desire to live your life for the Lord. May you never cease to pursue Him.

Thank you, Rose McCauley, for your continual faithfulness in critiquing my work and for being such a sweet friend.

Thank you, Albert, Brooke, Hayley, and Allie, for your constant support for and patience with your loony wife and mommy.

Robin, you are such a dear friend. I thank God for you.

Lastly, praise You, Jesus, because You guide every breath I take and because You take broken vessels and make them whole. May I never stop yearning for You!

A note from the Author:

I love to hear from my readers! You may correspond with me by writing:

Jennifer Johnson

Author Relations

PO Box 721

Uhrichsville, OH 44683

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