Love Starts with Elle(100)

She shimmied as a swoosh splashed her emotions. All her composure began to leak. “What are you saying?”

He stepped closer. “I love you. I want to be with you. If it’s possible, you’re the second first-love of my life and I’d be stupid to spend another moment away from you.”

Okay. Yeah, that’s a good reason to be here. Elle flew into his arms with a burst of tears. “I’ll move to New York with you, Heath. Whatever, but I want to be with you.”

He kissed her, firm and unyielding. “Marry me.” His lips brushed her ears. “Marry us.”

Mitch’s song ended and his last strum rang out over the café.

Heath went to bended knee. “I spoke to Truman. He says I can have you if I want you.”

“Way to sweep a girl off her feet.”

The woman at the booth next the party table leaned into Heath and Elle’s private circle. “This is way better than that boy’s singing.”

Elle cut her a glance. Mrs. Paladino. Figures. Local gossip columnist. “Hush.”

With his eyes fixed on Elle, Heath retrieved a blue box from his pocket. “Will you marry me?”

“My stars. Tiffany’s,” Mrs. Paladino burst out, apparently unclear about the meaning of hush. “If you don’t marry him, I will.”

“Marie,” the man at her table protested, “you’re married to me.”

Mrs. Paladino beat the air in front of him. “Pipe down. Well, girl, are you going to say yes?”

Elle bent down to her knees, wanting to confess her love face to face, eye to eye, heart to heart. “For a summer, you were my friend, my sanity, the one who challenged me to believe when it felt impossible. I am so honored to know you and call you friend. I can’t believe I can one day call you husband. Yes, Heath McCord, I’ll marry you.”

His lips touched hers, soft and tender at first, then hungry and passionate, finding the core of her heart.

Around them, above them, the café erupted with cheers. Mercy Bea shoved in between them, shouting, “Cake, on the house!”

Heath pulled Elle to her feet and whirled her in his arms. Folks congratulated them with shoulder pops and teary hugs.

Mama and Daddy breezed in with Rio and Tracey-Love, followed by a harried-looking Sara Beth and her brood.

“At the risk of my beauty reputation, I herded everyone to the car when Mama called. I did not want to miss this.”

In the midst of the celebration, the rest of the Garvey Girls arrived as the Frogmore staff passed plates of Andy’s fluffy white cake.

Heath never loosened his grip on Elle’s hand.

It’d been a long year, but Miss Anna was right: promotion often comes from the wilderness. Elle had learned about herself, about love, and the hope of prayer.

“Elle, where’s your cake?” Mercy Bea fussed. “Andy, I need a piece of cake for the bride-to-be.”

Elle pressed her hand over her stomach. “I’m not sure I can eat, Mercy Bea.”

When the cake arrived, Elle reached for it. One bite would be nice. But the bottle-blonde jerked the plate back.

“What in Sam Hill?” Mercy Bea squinted, pinching free a perfect white feather. “Good grief. Elle, don’t worry, I’ll get you another piece. Giving the bride a feathered slice of cake . . .”

Heath slipped his hand around Elle and squeezed her close. She peered up at him through a blur of tears. God knew. He always knew and in His unique way had blessed Elle with His signature touch.

He’d always been with her—now and then—in the moments of darkness, in the times of light, when she doubted and when she believed.

Did she understand true love, soul mates, the perfect one? Not at all. But she understood God was blessing this moment, giving her Heath as a true gift.

“Mercy Bea, please, it’s fine.” Elle held out her hand. “I want that piece of cake, and the feather.”

“What? It’s contaminated. You don’t know where that feather’s been.”

Heath laughed, taking the feather between his finger and thumb. “Yeah, actually, we do.”





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Scripture tells me to owe no one anything except a debt of love. Often during the journey of writing a book, I forget to pay, though I’m indebted to many. This is my feeble attempt to thank them.





Jesus, the God-man—real, eternal, everlasting, full of love and mercy. I’m undone to think that I know and love You because You first loved me. My debt of love to You can never be paid, but daily I give You my heart. I am Yours;You are mine.

My husband, who encourages and prays for me and keeps me on the right side of the yellow line. I absolutely could not do this without you. Joyfully I pay my debt of love to you. You are an amazing, true-blue, godly man.

Susie Warren, friend of my heart, brainstorming machine, fiction queen, and my sanity check. Thank you for being on the other side of the phone so many times while writing this book and for cheering with me in the good times. Your friendship is an incredible gift and blessing.

Christine Lynxwiler, for a really fun Sunday-after-conference of brainstorming, and for your friendship and constant encouragement.

My family. I’m so glad to be your daughter (in-law) and sister, niece, and cousin.

My friend Chelle, for praying, listening, and asking, “How’s it going?”