Page 66 of The Secret of Emerald Cottage

“That’s right, you are, Breccan. Just like Molly is entitled to make hers.” He sensed she was waiting for him to look up while she took her time sipping, and when he did, he swore her eyes twinkled over the rim of that blasted cup. “But as pretty as you are to look at, Pelé, I doubt any woman would want to take on both you and that butt-ugly gorilla a-hangin’ on your back.”

“What gorilla?” he demanded, feeling more like the six-year-old who threw tantrums when she made him go to bed before dark, than the grown man sitting here today.

Her smile faded to serious. “That primal vendetta of bitterness you’re holdin’ on to, son, toward both your father and our God.”

His mouth fell open as he stared, gob-smacked. “What? You two coordinating attacks on me now, is that it? First she blathers on about forgiveness and now you too?”

“If by ‘coordinate,’ you mean ‘pray,’ then yes, we do.”

“For criminy sake’s, Aunt Lilly, you act like I’m a bloomin’ heathen.”

She arched a sparse silver brow. “Well, aren’t you?”

His eyes narrowed. “No”—he shifted uneasily in his chair—“I believe in Him all right; I just don’t happen to like Him a whole lot right now.”

“If not now, then when?” She blinked at him in an innocent manner that was anything but. “On your deathbed?”

“When I’m good and ready!” he shouted with a thump of his fist on the table to drive his point home.

“Then I fear you never will, Breccan.” The swell of tears in her eyes was like a kick in the teeth. “Because your anger toward God and your father is apparently stronger than your love for Molly and me.”

Jaw tight, he looked away because in his gut, he knew she was right. She’d been working on him over the last so many months, subtly at first, of course, but gradually it had become a velvet-clad sledgehammer, breaking down his resistance. “You need to turn back to God, Breccan,” she’d say over and over, “and rededicate your life to the only One who can save it.”

His eyelids weighted closed, heavier than he’d ever felt. Because deep down in his soul, he knew she was not only right, but she was also giving him a choice to make. Just like God had in Deuteronomy 30, one of her favorite Scriptures from the Bible.

“Today I am giving you a choice between life and death, between prosperity and disaster. For I command you this day to love the Lord your God and to keep His commands, decrees, and regulations by walking in His ways. If you do this, you will live and multiply, and the Lord your God will bless you and the land you are about to enter and occupy.”

The land he was about to enter.

A life with Molly?

His pulse stilled to a crawl. Was he ready? To let go of his anger toward God? To “choose life” instead of death as Aunt Lilly was so fond of quoting? The air hitched in his throat when he suddenly realized—he swallowed hard—that he was.

In one violent beat of his heart, the truth crystallized in his brain that his love for Molly and his aunt was stronger than his desire to hold a grudge, at least against God. His mouth tamped down. His father, of course, was another matter. But he had to start somewhere to win the heart of the woman he loved, and turning back to God was what both Molly and his aunt wanted anyway, so why not go for broke? The edge of his lip tipped. Yeah, “broke.” Which meant it was his pride he needed to “break” …

Kneading the bridge of his nose, he exhaled a long and wavering sigh of surrender. “All right, Aunt Lilly, you win,” he said quietly, “I’ll rededicate my life to God.” He lifted his gaze, expecting a sense of defeat, but when he saw a single tear trickle her cheek, all he really felt was … peace.

She reached for his hand, giving it a strong squeeze that belied the frailty of her own. “Yes, Breccan, it’s a win for both Molly and me, no question. But the true victory belongs to you, son, for all the freedom and blessing about to come your way.” A twinkle glimmered in her eyes—or maybe it was just the tears—but either way, she rose to press a kiss to his forehead with a tender smile. “And love, dear boy, lots and lots of love. Because true love, Breccan,” she whispered, “is sacrificial, always putting others before one’s self, which is exactly what you’re getting ready to do right now as we pray and turn your life back over to God.”

Lumbering up, she bent to give him a tender hug before she rested a blue-veined hand on his shoulder. “True love, like God did for each of us, Brec. He’s the model for the kind of love we all long for, and the only kind that will ever make us truly happy. And since He is Love, He’s the only way we can ever find it. So if that’s the kind of love you’re looking for with Molly, son, then I promise you, this is the first step in becoming the kind of man she’s looking for too.”

Sitting back down, she offered her hand, and he took it, bowing his head while he waited for her to lead him in prayer. “Because after you do, Breccan Adam Fabian McGill,” she whispered, causing him to glance up, “you may just find that girl will give you way more than the time of day.” A smug smile rested on her lips as she gave him an elfin wink. “Like maybe her heart.”