Plain Peace (A Daughters of the Promise Novel) (38 page)
It is an honor to dedicate this book to my dear friend Richard Gabler. Mr. Gabler, you are truly one of God’s special people, my angel on earth. I love you dearly.
There are always lots of people to thank, and I hope I don’t miss anyone. It takes a team to get the books on the shelves!
Thanks always to my fabulous publishing team at HarperCollins Christian Fiction, to my wonderful agent, Natasha Kern, my irreplaceable assistant Janet Murphy . . . and to my family and friends for their continued support. Special thanks to Barbie Beiler for always answering my questions and for the friendship that we share.
I’m blessed to have great editors helping me with this project.
Sue Brower, Natalie Hanemann, and Anne Buchanan—you’re the best!
And to my fabulous hubby, Patrick . . . love you forever and ever. ☺
To my wonderful Lord and Savior—thank You for all that You are in my life and for Your many blessings!
An Excerpt from
The House That Love Built
Excerpt from
The House That Love Built
B
ROOKE
H
OLLOWAY WOKE WITH A START, THEN FELT
her stomach lurch when she recalled her dream. She rolled over and threw her arm across Travis’s side of the bed, wishing she could will him to be there. She lay there a few more minutes before forcing herself to get up and dressed before she went downstairs.
She pressed the button on the coffeemaker before facing off with the calendar that hung on the wall to the left of the refrigerator. She reached for the black marker dangling on a string nearby and drew a big
X
across today’s date, as she did every morning, then scribbled “45” in the upper-right-hand corner of the square. The kids liked to keep up with the countdown to July 10.
Two cups of coffee later she still yawned as she headed back upstairs and down the hall to Meghan’s room.
“Up, sleepyhead.” Brooke flipped on the light and walked toward her precious six-year-old, whose blond hair crumpled in a mass on the pillow. “Time to get up.” Brooke sat on the bed and kissed Meghan on the forehead, Travis still fresh on her mind. He used to wake up the kids each morning, said that seeing their faces first thing always made for a better day.
“Two more days of school after today.” Meghan sat up and pulled down the pajama pants that had inched up her calves during the night.
“I know.” Brooke stood and clapped her hands together. “So let’s don’t be late.”
She headed down the hall to Spencer’s room. Brooke had learned, after being reprimanded more than once, to always knock first.
“Come in.”
Spencer was already sitting on the side of the bed when Brooke took two steps into his room. He no longer wanted her hugging and kissing him in the morning. Or any other time, for that matter. He’d grown up too much these past couple of years. Brooke wondered how much of that was her fault, if she’d handled Travis’s death correctly with the kids, particularly Spencer. Either way, her ten-year-old son had made it clear she couldn’t be “huggy and kissy” with him anymore.
“Glad to see you’re up. I’m going to make some eggs and bacon, so I’ll see you downstairs. Okay?”
Spencer nodded as he rubbed his eyes and yawned.
Thirty minutes later they were eating, and running late as usual. Brooke glanced at her watch, hoping the kids wouldn’t miss the bus. Again.
“I miss Grandma,” Meghan said through a mouthful.
“I know. Me too.” Brooke stuffed the last bite of bacon in her mouth, chewing as she got up and tossed her paper plate in the trash can. “We’ll go see her tomorrow after school. She’s playing bingo this afternoon.”
“She’d rather play bingo than see her grandkids?” Spencer stood up and also tossed his plate in the garbage.
Brooke looked at her watch again and grinned. “Yes. I believe she would.” She snapped her fingers. “Now, chop-chop. We need to go.”
Brooke had tried repeatedly to talk her mother out of moving to the assisted living complex here in Smithville, but once Patsy Miller had a notion in her head, there was no changing her mind. “They have bingo, card games, pottery, and painting classes,” Mom had told her. “And Gladys told me they have dances too. You never have to cook, they give you rides to the doctor, and they have a maid service. Sounds like heaven to me, and I’m going to live there!” she’d said. That had been two months ago.
“We’re going to miss the bus again.” Meghan grabbed her backpack by the front door and slipped it over her shoulders.
“Not if you hurry!” Brooke kissed her on the cheek. “Love you.”
Then she grabbed Spencer and planted a kiss on his forehead. “I know, I know,” she said when he squirmed away. “But humor me every once in a while.”
Brooke watched from the porch until the kids were safely on the bus, then started her ten-minute walk to Miller’s Hardware Store.
Francis Tippens, affectionately called Big Daddy, was unlocking the door when Brooke walked up. At almost seven feet tall, the man commanded respect, and no one dared to call him by his given name. Even though he had a permanent scowl on his face, Brooke was pretty sure he would go to his grave to protect her and her children.
“Mornin’, Ms. Brooke.” Big Daddy held the door open for her. As she reached for the light switch, she tripped over the entryway rug.
Gonna get rid of that thing one day
.
Brooke stopped at the counter while Big Daddy walked toward
the back of the store to begin unloading a recent order. “Have a good day, Big Daddy.”
He didn’t turn around, just waved. Brooke walked behind the front counter, sat on the wooden stool, and unlocked the register. She pulled yesterday’s cash from her purse and was loading it in the machine when the door flew open again.
“Good morning, sunshine.” Brooke put her hands on her hips when Juliet came scurrying in, shaking her head. Brooke braced herself for whatever excuse Juliet might have for being late.
“I am so sorry.” Juliet brushed a strand of long blond hair away from her face, hair that didn’t look like it had seen a comb this morning. She readjusted her silver purse on her shoulder and tucked her pink blouse into the short blue-jean skirt. “I couldn’t find my keys this morning.” She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Then I remembered it was Wednesday and I had to put the trash out.”
“It’s okay.”
Juliet had grown up in Smithville and had worked part-time at the store during her high school years. Now she attended Texas State in San Marcos, but Brooke hired her to help do inventory and catch up the filing in the summers.
“I’ll go start the coffee.” Juliet headed toward the back office. “Want some?”
Brooke nodded. “Yes, please. Thanks.”
She closed the cash register and stared out the plate-glass windows that ran the length of the store. Across Main Street she could see Travis’s old business, the windows boarded up. Right out of high school, he’d used inheritance money from his grandparents to open the Treasure Chest, a store he’d filled with old books, photographs, antique toys, and other vintage items. Brooke would joke
that most of the inventory consisted of stuff Travis had collected since he was a kid. She was pretty sure he’d overpriced everything in the store because he really didn’t want to sell any of it. Luckily, they hadn’t depended solely on Travis’s income.
Brooke wished someone would lease the space and open something new. Maybe a candy store. Then she’d just eat herself happy.
The story continues in
The House that
Love Built
, by Beth Wiseman
