“How can I know that Boone’s that man? Especially when he’s willing to leave me at a moment’s notice to go help someone else? What if I need him too?”
“Those are going to be tough situations. Imagine how he will feel, to be torn between the woman he loves and the work God has placed before him in that moment. Remember, you belong to Christ too. Imagine how difficult it was for Jesus to be separated from His Father. He did it because that was His purpose. But His heart was still connected to heaven, and His Father carried Him. We can find comfort in our faith and our knowledge that God is bigger than whatever challenges and hardships come before us.”
Faith.
The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
A fountain ever springing;
All things are mine since I am his—
How can I keep from singing?
The hymn wove itself through her soul.
“What do you love about Boone?”
“His commitment. Loyalty. Humor. Intelligence. The way he’s a leader and compassionate. The way he’s always ready to jump in and…” Oh.
“Jump in and help?” Mom asked. “His sense of duty?”
“Yes.” The word came out a whisper. “I just don’t know how to bring those two things to congruence. How do I want him with me, with our family, and then accept him having to be gone?”
“I’ve never been in your position, loving someone who serves in that capacity. I imagine it stretches people. Can strain relationships. But what if you used it as an opportunity to be Boone’s safety net? To be the one who holds him when the rescue is a recovery. To be the one he can rely on to be waiting with the light on, no matter how late he comes home. To be the one to keep dinner warm when he gets called away, hungry and tired.”
That’s exactly who she wanted to be for Boone. Because she had given him her whole heart.
“I’ve seen Boone look at you. I saw it when the two of you visited me in Arizona your first Christmas together, and I saw it last year when I came for vacation. You’re his rock, Vivien. You make him laugh. You bring him joy. You’ve got something really special. Don’t let what happened between your dad and me tarnish that.”
Vivien watched a snowflake land on the windshield. “It’s still scary.”
“It is. And ultimately, you have to trust that the God you believe in is big enough to get you through whatever challenges are ahead.”
“What do I do now? He doesn’t even want to marry me. And even if he does, I don’t have a dress.”
“Go. Find him. Work it out.” She steered the car away from the curb. “In fact, just tell me where he is, and I’ll drop you off. And don’t worry about the dress. Go get yourself a groom.”
WEDNESDAY, 3:20 P.M.
Vivien tried the front door of the antique store. It opened with a groan. Darkness loomed across the shop where small knickknacks still sat askew on display, thick dust settling over them. Larger items stood like phantom sentinels, sheets draped over them.
“Boone?” Vivien called out.
Silence. A musty aroma of dust and old things tingled her nose, and the cold air curled its fingers around her.
She snugged up her coat and walked toward the back of the store, easing around the stacks of odd whatsits, whosits, and thingamajigs.
Shuffling sounds and clunks. The door to the basement stood open, and dim light filtered through the dusty air.
“Boone?” she called down.
“I’m here,” he answered. She stepped into the stairwell, squinting against the shadows. She searched the wall for another light switch. Moved the iron propping the door open and patted her hand along the wall.
Nope.
“Vivien?”
Her boots thunked on the staircase, the air colder as she descended. “Kind of dark on the stairs.” The sight of him eased the tension on her heart. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He stood in a sea of boxes, lid in hand. “Yeah.”
“It’s been a really rotten, terrible, no good, very bad day,” she offered.
He blew out a long breath. “I agree.” The words were quiet, soft.
They anchored her. “Can we talk?”
“We should.” He set down the box lid on the nearby stack. Looked at her with eyes full of questions and…love.
Boone. Her Boone.
And the little crooked smile on his face said he was glad she’d come.
He walked toward her, his lean torso covered in gaudy Christmas glee.
She held out her hands and gestured up and down his body, stifling a giggle. “I told you earlier, it’s hard for me to take you seriously in that—that—getup.”
He clicked the button to activate the music and lights on the sweater. “Oh yeah? Is this serious enough for you?” He reached for her hand and drew her close. “This ugly-sweatered man is sorry.”
The rich timbre of his voice, his very presence—they soothed her soul. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I panicked. I don’t care what I wear. I’ll wear that hideous satin pouf-ball thing and tease my bangs. I just want to be your wife. I love you.”
“I love you too. I should have understood why you were panicking.” He framed her face in his hands. “Vivien, you could wear a burlap sack for all I care. I’ll marry you wearing anything at all. The only thing that matters at the end of the day is that we are legally married.”
Yeah. Legally married.
She stared at the pile of fabric he’d cast aside. “Maybe I can make a dress out of the curtains.” She giggled. “I can even use a curtain rod.” She nodded toward the decorative finials sitting on a table.
“Maybe.” His fingers danced across her jawline, causing goosebumps to zing down her body. “Or there’s some burlap over there.” He nodded his head toward another pile.
“Mm…cozy.”
“But first, I need to ask you something, and you need to give me your honest answer.”
“Okay.”
“Do you need me to leave the Crisis Response Team?”
Oh. She searched his face. Right here he stood. Held out his whole heart to her, with all the love and hope in his eyes.
She swallowed, tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t tell you that I’ll never be frustrated or upset if you’re called away—like, you know, if I’m in the middle of labor.”
He held up a hand. “To be fair, I’ve never left you while you’ve been in labor.”
She placed her palm on his cheek, ran her thumb across his jawline. “I don’t want you to miss out on those special moments in our lives. But my mom, when she picked me up, she asked me some hard questions…”
He placed his hand over hers, the warmth of it soaking in.
“And I realized some things.” She met his eyes. “Boone, we both know that service is part of who you are. And God has called you to use your gifts to lead that team. You find people in their darkest hours. Whenever you can, you make sure your team gets them home to their loved ones or brings the families closure.”
“You know it never means they are more important than you.”
She nodded.
“And it never means I’ll leave you—abandon you.”