A Leap of Faith. Lenora Worth

      “Don’t try to figure me out,

       Autumn,” Campbell said.

      “I’m just a man who was lost once. Now I’ve found my way. I only ask that you don’t push me away, because I need to be here, right here, working for your father.”

      Autumn sighed. Did he think she was fishing for information just so she could report back to her father and push Campbell out of business? Did he really think she was that ruthless?

      “I wasn’t planning on shoving you out the door,” she said, a little spark of anger replacing her need to nurture him. “I just wanted to know more about you.”

      “Well, now you do,” he said, gently taking her arm and leading her into the restaurant. He stopped at the door. “Oh, and I promised your father I wouldn’t ever hurt you.”

      “I don’t think we need to worry about that.”

      “No, but I didn’t exactly promise him I wouldn’t fall for you, either. Because that’s a promise I don’t think I’m going to be able to keep.”

      LENORA WORTH

      knew she wanted to be a writer after her fourth-grade teacher assigned a creative writing project. While the other children moaned and groaned, Lenora gleefully wrote her first story, then promptly sold it (for a quarter) on the playground. She actually started selling in bookstores in 1993. Before joining Steeple Hill, Lenora wrote for Avalon and Leisure Books.

      Married for thirty years, Lenora has two children. Before writing full-time, she worked in marketing and public relations. She has served in her local RWA chapter and as president of Faith, Hope, and Love, the inspirational chapter of RWA. She also wrote a weekly opinion column for the Shreveport Times for five years, and now writes a monthly column for SB magazine.

      A Leap of Faith

      Lenora Worth

      By faith we understand that the worlds

       were framed by the word of God, so that the

       things which are seen were not made of

       things which are visible.

      —Hebrews 11:3

      To my fellow Love Inspired authors—

       friends, sisters and awesome writers all!

      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

      Epilogue

      Letter to Reader

      Questions for Discussion

      Chapter One

      “Weddings always make me cry.”

      Autumn Maxwell turned to the tall, dark-haired man who’d just whispered that slightly sarcastic statement, apparently for her ears only. He wasn’t what she’d call handsome. But he wasn’t hard to look at, either. He had brown, almost black eyes and hair about the same color. He wore an impeccably tailored gray lightweight suit with dark gray suede lace-up shoes that could only be described as sneakers.

      Wondering why he’d decided to bother her, Autumn gave him a once-over then said, “I don’t see any tears.”

      He slanted his head sideways, causing his thick hair to ruffle across his forehead, then held a hand to his heart. “In here. I’m crying in here.”

      “Oh, well, that explains it then.” Autumn tuned out his pleasant drawling accent, then turned to stare out at the crowd of people mingling by the shimmering swimming pool at the Big M Ranch in Paris, Texas.

      They were celebrating the wedding of Autumn’s cousin, April Maxwell, to Reed Garrison. Reed had been April’s high school sweetheart and the man she’d fallen in love with all over again when she’d come home earlier this year. Autumn knew this had been an emotional day for April. Her father, Stuart, had passed away back in the spring, and her mother had died years ago in a plane crash. But today, April looked joyful as she mingled with her guests in the soft late-September sunshine. She loved Reed, and they were happy together at last, in spite of how much April missed her parents. April and Reed had a strong faith that would see them through. And they’d have a good marriage. Autumn sent up thanks for that, even while her own heart hurt with loneliness.

      “Explains what?” the man beside Autumn asked, leaning toward her, his broad shoulders blocking her view.

      Autumn looked up at him, a tired kind of reluctance pulling at her very bones as she refocused on him. Giving him a weak smile, she asked, “Are you still here?”

      “Ouch, that hurt.” He grinned then extended a hand. “Campbell Dupree, invited guest.”

      Autumn took his hand, shook it, then drew back, the jolt of awareness his touch had brought knocking her off balance for only an instant. “Autumn Maxwell, cousin of the bride.”

      He stood straight up, his eyebrows slanting as he grinned. “I know who you are.”

      That smug admission caused Autumn to step back. She didn’t like the intimate way he was looking at her. “And how do you know who I am?”

      He drew his head back, his eyes locked on her face. “I saw you in the wedding party, but I had no idea—”

      “Second bridesmaid to the left,” Autumn retorted, a wry smile on her face.

      His gaze moved over her face. “As I was trying to explain, I was told before the wedding that you and your cousin Summer would be attendants, but I had no idea how pretty you’d both be. Especially you.”

      Autumn let out a laugh. “Okay, you should just can the sweet talk. We all know Summer is the pretty one. April is the stylish one, and me, well, I’m the plain one.”

      He shook his head. “Depends on your definition of plain. Right now, you don’t look plain at all. You look radiant.”

      She hid her unladylike snort behind her hand. “Are you for real?”

      He looked down at himself, patted his chest and shoulders. “I feel real.”

      Autumn could attest to that. He looked solid, as if he worked out on a regular basis. Nice biceps aside, she really wished he’d just go away. She wanted to stand here and enjoy watching April and Reed laughing with their guests. This was their day, so Autumn refused to think any negative thoughts. Except this annoying man with the strange shoes and the dark, mysterious eyes was making that difficult.

      “Is there something else you’d like to say?” she asked the man, since he was still watching, make that ogling her.

      “So you’re Richard Maxwell’s daughter?”

      She mimicked his earlier moves, slapping her hands against her bare arms. “Yes, last time I checked.” Then she made a face to discourage any more questions. “And it was really nice to meet you, but I’m going to walk away now, okay?”

      “Why?” He followed her back toward the punch table on the long patio of the Big M’s ranch house. “Why are you walking away?”