Secretly Yours: A Christian Valentine's Day Romance (Riverbend Romance Novella Book 1) Page 8
“It’s certainly different than what we serve at the Water Wheel.”
He held her gaze. “I try to do as I’m told. There’s no cacciatore in sight. Though that was amazing last night.” Not just the dinner itself. The whole evening. The good-night kiss.
A few minutes later the remains were whisked away and replaced with bowls of butter chicken and a basket of naan. Feasting his eyes on Lindsey was better than the food, delicious as it was. He managed to keep some small talk going as the waiter cleared the dinner plates. Nick’s heart hammered and his palms turned sweaty. No holding her hand at the moment. He wiped his on his pants under the tablecloth.
The waiter returned with two dessert dishes, each lit by a sparkler. From the corner of his eye, Nick caught the waiter’s nod and grin. The glimmer from the flame reflected off Lindsey’s eyes. Then they widened as she noticed the crowning touch.
“Nick…” she breathed.
He rounded the table and got to one knee before plucking the diamond ring from its tiny pedestal amid the rose cookies. “Lindsey, I love you. I don’t want to keep it a secret anymore. Not from you, not from anyone.” His voice caught. “Will you marry me?”
She flung herself into his arms, nearly knocking him flat to the floor. “Nick, yes!”
He braced himself with one hand then got the both of them in balance. Somehow he got to his feet with her wrapped around his neck.
A murmur of well wishes and soft applause from the wait staff faded into the distance as he gazed into Lindsey’s eyes, bright with unshed tears. “Really, Nick? You want me?”
“More than anything in the world.” He kissed her, and that took a few minutes. Then he rested his forehead against hers. “I want to spend every single day that we have on this earth cherishing you. Celebrating you. Loving you as Jesus loves the church.”
“Will you make up love songs for me and sing them by the river?”
He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “You might want me to pass on that. My singing is no better than my poetry.”
She sighed against his lips then kissed him again.
Nick sat and pulled her into his lap then held the ring up for inspection. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.
“I just want to be sure…” He hesitated. “Are you okay with me being a pastor? It’s what God’s called me to be.”
She nodded. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, but I’m willing to learn. I loved working with the teens on the banquet.” She held out her hand, and he slipped the ring onto it.
Secretly his?
Not anymore. Now the whole world would know.
Thank You!
Thank you for reading Secretly Yours: A Riverbend Romance Novella 1. I hope you enjoyed it!
If you'd like to be notified when my next book releases, I invite you to sign up for my email list. As a bonus for my subscribers, I've written Peppermint Kisses, a short romantic story that takes place at 2.5 in my Farm Fresh Romance series. You won't find this story anywhere else, so check it out here: Peppermint Kisses.
If you’re familiar with BC, Canada, you’ll know Riverbend, Castlebrook, and the other towns don’t exist. I took the liberty of redrawing this region of the province, pulling my favorite parts of towns I know and love into one community — with a healthy dose of imagination. I hope you adjusted to the new topography.
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Raspberries and Vinegar: A Farm Fresh Romance 1 by Valerie Comer
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Chapter 1
Josephine Shaw gritted her teeth as she jerked the harvest-gold range forward on worn linoleum. There it was again. That incessant scratching could only be from one source. Mice. Of course the old trailer would have the despicable creatures. It’d been vacant for how long? The beam of her flashlight found half a dozen naked newborns sheltered in a nest of insulation and wood chips. A full-grown rodent shot through the gap she’d created and scuttled right over her foot. Jo gasped, nearly dropping the light as she jerked back.
Her roommate, Sierra Riehl, shrieked and danced a fierce jig designed, Jo presumed, to fend off an attacking two-inch-high army.
“Whoa! You’re going to go right through.” A distinct possibility, given the spongy feel to the old trailer’s floor.
Sierra’s gaze tried to capture every inch of space at once, but at least her feet slowed their tempo. “Th-the mouse . . .”
Jo tried to get her own heart rate under control. “Long gone.” At least, Jo would be if she were in his shoes. If mice wore shoes. Which they didn’t.
“Are you sure?”
What was she, some kind of fortuneteller? Oh, wait. There was still the nest, and somebody would have to deal with it. Didn’t look like Sierra was up for the job. Never mind, Jo could do this herself. “Um. You might not want to look.”
Sierra dug purple manicured fingernails into Jo’s arm, her blue eyes wide. “Why? What’s back there?”
“You don’t want to know.” Jo steered her friend into the living room, empty but for the musty shag carpet. “Just look out the window for a minute. Admire the view. Dream about all the things we’re going to do here at Green Acres. Think about the straw-bale house we’re going to build.” She pointed across the snow-flattened yellow grass to the building site. “Right over there.” Pouring the foundation couldn’t come fast enough. Even spending one night in this disgusting, moldy trailer would be more than ample. Bad enough without the mice, but with them?
Jo shuddered. They weren’t going to get the best of her. She grabbed a dustpan, shoved it hard under the nest and gagged at the stench of feces she’d disturbed. Choking down her bile, she hurried to the door, wrenched it open, and flung the dustpan’s contents . . .
. . . right at a set of chest buttons. Scraps of insulation clung to a shearling-lined suede coat right at Jo’s eye level.
Jo froze. What had she done? “Sorry,” she gasped. Her eyes jerked up. For an instant she focused on the shocked brown eyes of a tall guy with a closely cropped beard and mustache. Dark blond hair curled from beneath his tweed newsboy cap. His hand, poised to knock, dropped to his side.
At the same instant, the sound of frantic clawing pulled Jo’s attention down to a Border collie puppy nearly yanking the leash from his master’s hand as he surged at the slug-like blobs. Jo stooped and swept the wiggling mice from the wood-planked porch with her dustpan. “No! You don’t want to eat those.”
The dog rewarded her with two paws on her shoulders and a slurp up her cheek, nearly knocking her over.
Jo stifled a giggle then remembered the guy. The totally hunky man she’d just baptized with rodents.
Oh, no. She could use a do-over of this meeting.
He cleared his throat and shortened the leash. “Domino, sit.” The pup almost got his rump to touch the boards, but his wagging tail threatened to topple him.
Apparently Jo was stuck with this introduction. She took a deep breath, straightened, and reached out her hand. “Hi. Sorry about that. I’m Josephine Shaw.”
The guy stared down.
What had she done now? Jo followed his gaze to the dustpan she clenched in her outstretched hand. It dropped from nerveless fingers and clattered against the boards. The pup pounced on it.
Jo closed her eyes, breathed a quick prayer, and wiped her hand on her overalls. Ideal garb for cleaning out an old, filthy trailer, but not so perfect for meeting the cutest guy she’d seen in a while. She summoned a smile and looked up at him again. “Let’s try that again. I’m Josephine Shaw, and I’m really sorry I threw mice at you.”
A sparkle gleamed in his eyes. “I’m sorry you did, too. Zachary Nemesek, from next door.”
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Author Biography
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Valerie Comer lives where food meets faith in her real life, her fiction, and on her blog and website. She and her husband of over 30 years farm, garden, and keep bees on a small farm in Western Canada, where they grow and preserve much of their own food.
Valerie has always been interested in real food from scratch, but her conviction has increased dramatically since God blessed her with three delightful granddaughters. In this world of rampant disease and pollution, she is compelled to do what she can to make these little girls’ lives the best she can. She helps supply healthy food—local food, organic food, seasonal food—to grow strong bodies and minds.
Her experience has planted seeds for many stories rooted in the local-food movement, such as those in her Farm Fresh Romance series.
To find out more, visit her website at www.valeriecomer.com, where you can read her blog, explore her many links, and sign up for her monthly email newsletter, where you will find news, giveaways, deals, book recommendations and more. Click the image below.
Other Stories by Valerie Comer
Farm Fresh Romance Series
Raspberries and Vinegar (FREE!)
Wild Mint Tea
Sweetened with Honey
Dandelions for Dinner (March 2015)
Plum Upside Down (summer 2015)
Riverbend Romance Novella Series
Secretly Yours
Pinky Promise (April 2015)
Christmas 2-in-1
Snowflake Tiara
(2 Christmas romance novellas, 125 years apart, byAngela Breidenbach and Valerie Comer)
Fantasy
Majai’s Fury
(a fantasy tale of forbidden romance amid clashing religions and cultures.)