With All Josie's Heart
He needed Josie’s help. But he couldn’t let her get close.
She had left him once, and she’d do it again.
Michael shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what Sharla’s father is thinking. He says he’s gotten his act together, and now that Sharla is motherless she should live with him.”
“So, he’s really serious about suing for custody?” Josie asked. “What does your attorney say?”
“That my chances are fifty-fifty at best.”
“If I can help… You know I would.”
“I appreciate your offer. Actually there is something you could do.” Taking a deep breath, Michael said a quick prayer before putting his heart in Josie’s hand.
“You can marry me.”
CRYSTAL STOVALL
dreamed of writing inspirational romances from the moment she discovered Grace Livingston Hill’s novels as a teenager. These books changed her life in a profound way, starting her on a quest to blend faith and romance in her personal life, as well as launching her writing career. She’s a graduate of Oral Roberts University and a recipient of the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart Award.
Crystal lives in Tulsa with her husband, Jim, who is president of the Emmy Award-winning Narrative Television Network. Though she’s lived in Oklahoma for nearly twenty years, she’s still an Easterner at heart. Her frequent visits to her upstate New York hometown—especially a certain boulder on the edge of Cayuga Lake—provide her with the inspiration and perspective which she finds essential to her writing.
Let love and faithfulness never leave you;
bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart.
—Proverbs 3:3
In memory of my mother, Jozell Smith,
whose love lives on in my heart and whose smile won’t be forgotten.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter One
This was the last place she expected to be.
Josie Marshall took a deep breath, then knocked on Michael’s front door. Just past five o’clock, the late-afternoon sun cast a long shadow across the wide porch. Potted geraniums and begonias lined the wooden rail, emitting a sweet fragrance that might have calmed her nerves on another day.
For the last seven years, Josie had successfully avoided Michael Rawlins, and she’d had no intention of seeing her parents’ next door neighbor on this trip home either. Yet, here she was, holding the basket of hot food her mother had prepared, waiting for Michael to open the door.
All attempts to convince her mother Josie was too tired, that she needed a long shower and a good night’s sleep before she faced anyone, had fallen on unsympathetic ears. An exhausting international flight fraught with delays and cramped seating was no excuse in Sarah Marshall’s mind. Sarah, relying on the persistent gaze Josie clearly remembered from childhood, had asked her daughter to please take Michael the food. The poor man had just been released from the hospital, and Sarah would have delivered the meal herself except she’d promised to drive Gran to her four o’clock doctor’s appointment and she was already late. If Josie would do this one thing for her, her mother had sworn, she would be so grateful.
Realizing it was useless to argue, Josie had given in. However, she’d procrastinated another hour before making the short trek next door.
She rang Michael’s doorbell a second time and prayed there would be no answer. Quickly, she counted to ten. If Michael didn’t open the door by the time she reached twenty, she was leaving.
Eighteen, nineteen, twenty… Thank you, God, she whispered.
Taking a deep breath, she turned away from the door and hurried down the wooden steps. Halfway across the lawn she heard his voice. She would have known the deep, warm timbre anywhere.
“Josie? Josie Marshall?”
For a split second, Josie considered ignoring Michael, pretending she hadn’t heard him call her name. But why should she? And what was the fuss anyway?