0800724011 by Janice Thompson

Author:Janice Thompson [Thompson, Janice]
Language: dan, deu, eng, spa, fra, ita, nld, por, swe
Format: epub
Tags: FIC042040;FIC027020;Brides—Fiction;Weddings—Fiction;Interpersonal relations—Fiction;Christian fiction;Love stories
ISBN: 9781493404148
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2016-04-06T22:00:00+00:00

17

Back in the Saddle

It’s that wonderful old-fashioned idea that others come first and you come second. This was the whole ethic by which I was brought up. Others matter more than you do, so “don’t fuss, dear; get on with it.”

Audrey Hepburn

On the Friday after Crystal and Jasper’s big day, Brady picked me up for our engagement party. The minute he saw me in my black dress, he let out a whistle.

“Whoa. I’m marrying a beauty queen.”

“Hardly.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “But thank you for saying that.”

“No, really. You look amazing.”

I gave a little twirl and my skirt flared. “You really like it? You’re not just saying that? I’ve had it for ages but didn’t think I’d ever get to wear it.”

“You look like a million bucks. Want me to call the photographer from Texas Bride for another cover shoot?”

“Um, no thank you.”

“Well, speaking of photos, don’t be surprised if my mother tries to snag a few tonight for the society column of the Dallas Morning News. She mentioned it earlier.”

“I can live with that. No doubt the sports page will want to cover the story too. Basketball players will love the pictures, I’m sure.”

“Well, speaking of basketball . . .” He pursed his lips, the silence between us suddenly awkward. “Remind me to talk to you about that later. Now that my knee is better, Stan’s trying to cut a new deal with the Mavericks.”

“W-what?” My thoughts went off in several different directions at once. “Are you serious?”

“Nothing solid. And I haven’t talked to my orthopedist about it—or anyone else, for that matter. But the knee feels so much better now and I’m almost back to full range of motion. Maybe God is giving me a second chance at something I love.”

“Wow. Brady, that would be . . .” I let my words trail off because I didn’t know what to say. Amazing? Terrifying? Wonderful? Risky? All of those words seemed to fit. If he went back to basketball, we would lose him at the bridal salon. And he might injure his knee again. But if he let this opportunity pass him by—if he really felt he could handle it but didn’t go for it—he might never forgive himself.

Brady led the way to his truck and opened the passenger door. I tossed my purse inside and then climbed up into the seat. Seated up so high, I felt a little like a queen. Checking my appearance in the mirror, I realized my lipstick needed a touch-up, so I did that while he walked around the truck and got inside.

My mind kept shifting back to the basketball conversation, and my heart swelled with emotion. I could hardly stand the fact that he’d had to give up something he loved so much. If God opened a door for him to return to pro ball, who was I to squelch his dreams? Instead, I opted to shift the conversation. “I’m so relieved your mom sent me home from work early.

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