Promise Of Forever

Noah was surprised she had the guts to say it, but it was true. People had been trying to set him up on dates since the day his wife had died. Beth Brennan was the hot topic of gossip right now, and he would be mentioned in the same breath…for a while.

“Even if we ignore it, they probably won’t stop until one of us starts to see someone,” Beth said ruefully.

“It’ll have to be you,” he said dryly. “My daughter is the only woman in my life.”

Beth sighed very unprofessionally. “I hate to date.”

She looked so genuinely distressed that a chuckle escaped Noah’s lips.

“Hey!” She frowned at his laughter. “That’s going to cost you. Until I find Mr. Right, I might just act as if I don’t mind the teasing. What do you think of that?” she challenged, mischief in her eyes.

She didn’t mind if they were linked together? Noah was in big trouble….

PATT MARR

has a friend who says she reminds him of a car that’s either zooming along in the fast lane or sitting on the shoulder, out of gas. Her family says he’s dead right. At age twenty, she had a B.S. in business education, a handsome, good-hearted husband and a sweet baby girl. Since then, Patt has had a precious baby boy, earned an M.A. in counseling, worked a lifetime as a high school educator, cooked big meals for friends, attended a zillion basketball games where her husband coached and her son played. She has also enjoyed many years of church music, children’s ministries, drama and television production—often working with her grown-up daughter.

During down time, Patt reads romance, eats too many carbs, watches too many movies and sleeps way too little. She’s been blessed with terrific children-in-law, two darling granddaughters, two loving grandsons, many wonderful friends, a great church and a chance to write love stories about people who love God as much as she does.

Promise of Forever

Patt Marr

For I know the plans I have for you.

They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a hope and a future.

—Jeremiah 29:11

Heartfelt appreciation for help with this book goes to my cousin Paul Lawrence, for expert critique; my daughter J. Marr, for endless encouragement; my son and daughter-in-law, Dane and Carla Marr, for providing the prototype of the character, Kendra; and Beth Elwood, R.N., for technical advice.

I dedicate this story to a woman of unshakable faith, my dear friend, Sue Lemmon.

Contents

Prologue

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 Sixteen

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

Prologue

Beverly Hills, California—April

For one moment, Dr. Beth Brennan felt as if she soared on invisible wings, floating on the approval of her entire family and the Brennan Medical Clinic staff. Well-wishers thronged about her, congratulating her for finishing her residency and becoming the new clinic pediatrician.

In the next moment, her mother’s manic rage came out of nowhere, and she launched into the most outrageous of all of her tantrums. The room went silent as Deborah Brennan’s illness took center stage.

Everyone here was associated with the clinic in some way. Most of them had been guests in Beth’s parents’ home. They knew her mother as a vibrant, elegant hostess, not this vicious tyrant, but her manic behavior wouldn’t be the family secret anymore.

It shouldn’t have come to this, not with seven doctors in the Brennan family. Not one of them, including Beth, had the guts to stand up to her mother and make her get the help she needed. If they had, there wouldn’t be an audience watching her dad and uncle drag her protesting mother away.

With so many pitying eyes upon her, Beth felt paralyzed. She wanted to leave, but her feet wouldn’t move.

A tall man in blue scrubs—a man about her own age with close-cropped dark hair and intense brown eyes—took her elbow. “Your grandfather sent me to get you, Dr. Brennan.”

Beth was a veteran at fighting her own battles, but, just this once, retreat seemed like a better idea.

They didn’t talk on the way to her grandfather’s office. Another time she would have paid more attention to the man’s chiseled good looks and muscular build. She might have shrugged away from his hand on her elbow and made some joke about knowing the way to her grandfather’s office as well as every inch of this building. But his steadying presence offered the perfect amount of comfort without pity.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m Noah,” he answered, opening the door to her grandfather’s office.

“Thank you, Noah,” her grandfather said.

The man nodded and shut the door behind her.

Noah. Sometime, she would thank him.

“Come in, Beth. Sit here beside me.” Her handsome, white-haired grandfather patted the burgundy leather sofa.

She snuggled close, glad they were there for each other. Grandpa had been the anchor in her life, the one person she could always count on.

“How’s my favorite granddaughter?”

His only granddaughter. It was an old joke, but she usually played along. Not today. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

“It wasn’t quite the celebration we’d hoped for, was it, darling?” He leaned his head against hers.

“Did I tell you how nice you look?”

He might have, but today the credit for her looks belonged to Mom.

Normally, Beth washed her low-maintenance short blond hair, applied facial cream with sunblock, gave her eyelashes a dab of mascara, and she was good to go.

Today, her mother had insisted on the whole beauty salon treatment…styled hair, major makeup, painted fingernails, the works. The only thing the professionals left natural was the color of her eyes—a light brown they’d raved about and called dark honey.

She’d looked forward to this day for as long as she could remember. It should have been a happy time.

“I don’t know what it was that made your mother lose control this time, but if it wasn’t one thing, it could have been another.”

That was true. Anything could trigger one of her mother’s episodes. As a child, she’d learned to stay out of the way.

“What’s this?” Grandpa said, pointing to a large red blotch on her sleeve. “Cranberry punch?”

She shrugged. It didn’t matter. The taupe silk suit, the matching pumps, her grandmother’s pearls—they’d all been chosen by her mother as perfect for the day. None of it was Beth’s style. She’d worn it to keep the peace, though a lot of good it had done.

From now on, she would wear what she liked.

“Beth, darling, it was twenty years ago that we walked the building site for the clinic together. Remember?”

Of course she did. “We drew on the ground where your office would be.”

“And where yours would be. You said you were going to be a doctor like Grandpa.”

He loved taking the credit for her career choice, and she loved acknowledging it. “You put the idea in my mind. You gave me the doctor kit and pretended to be my patient.”

“Have you been sorry, darling?”

“Never. I love medicine. I wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

“It was a thrill for me, getting to introduce you today.” He patted her hand. “Call it an old man’s dream, but I’ve always wanted my children and my grandchildren to practice medicine under one roof.”

“Grandpa, you’ve wanted a medical dynasty,” she teased.

“That is what people say, isn’t it?” he asked with a chuckle.

“And I’m proud to be part of it.”

“People will always talk about us, Beth—sometimes with respect, sometimes with spite. With a family like ours, people look for every flaw. They pounce on a juicy piece of gossip and chew the living daylights out of it. After what happened today, it’s going to be worse. I think it would be better if you weren’t here for a while. The gossips would make your life miserable, and I can’t have that.”

He had to be kidding. “Dealing with gossip is part of our life. It comes and goes. You taught me that.”

He nodded. “And when this latest wave goes, you’ll begin your work here. I won’t have your first memories of working with me tainted by your mother’s mania.”

“You think I can’t handle a little gossip?”

“I’m sure you could handle anything, but I see no reason to test your endurance, not when it’s so easily avoided.”

“What about Keith Crabtree? He’s expecting me to replace him in two weeks.”

“This is Keith’s idea. You know what a private person he’s always been. He came to me, seconds after the hullabaloo. It was his idea to give you a break.”

“A ‘break’?”

“Keith has known you since you were his patient. When you did your internship in peds, he suggested you as his replacement. We want you here, but we know this place. Both of us think a delay is in order.”

She wasn’t going to have any say in this? “How do you explain this ‘break’ to all those people who just heard I was coming aboard?” she asked, standing, the better to pace the room and deal with the ball of anger forming in her stomach.

“We didn’t announce a particular date when you were to join us, so it’s no problem. Take the summer off, love. Come back in a few months, and we’ll get you started off right.”

“And what will people think when Keith doesn’t retire?”

“Nothing. No one knew he planned to retire. Not even his own staff. He wanted to leave without fanfare. The staff thinks you’re starting an office of your own. They’ll merely think you’re taking your time about it.”

“It seems the two of you have this figured out.” Technically, Grandpa was her boss and had the right to make decisions for his staff, but it felt as if he was treating her like a child.

“Beth, don’t be upset. This is for your own good. Now, tell me, where have you dreamed of going—Europe, the Orient, somewhere in the tropics? You can go anywhere. My treat. Make a dream come true.”

She only had one dream, and that was on the third floor of this building.

He stood, pulled her into his arms and patted her back. “It’s going to be fine, Beth.”

She hugged him hard, hoping he would feel how much she loved him…had always loved him.

“Let me know where you want to go. I’ll set it up. I want you to have the best time of your life.” He kept his arm around her as he walked her to the door. “We’ll see you soon.”

He shut the door, and she was alone in the hall.

No, not alone. The tall man in blue scrubs leaned against the wall—not so near the office that he could have heard what went on, but as if he might be waiting. For her? Or was he the next to see Grandpa?

Pushing off the wall, his serious face softened as he said, “Are you okay?”

She must not look it, or he wouldn’t have asked. But she wasn’t going to share her heartache with a stranger, especially not one who seemed to have everything going for him, and her own life had just fallen apart.

Tall and lean, he moved toward her with the effortless strength of an athlete, but it was his eyes that drew her to him. Intelligence shone from those brown eyes, and dark eyebrows winged across his masculine brow. There was a small scar across his cheekbone and another across his angular jaw. His nose had been quite perfect before it was broken. None of the flaws were new, nor did they take away from his good looks.

If he was aware of his appeal, she couldn’t tell it, and if she were better at trusting good-looking men, she would believe what his eyes seemed to say—that his concern was genuine, and it was all for her.

“Am I okay?” she repeated. She would be. She had to believe that. “Yes, and thanks for asking. I’m on my way out.” That was true in more ways than one.

“Can I walk you to your car?” he said, his voice naturally deep.

“Have you been waiting for me?” Why would he do that? “Did my grandfather ask you to do that, too?”

“Yes, I’ve been waiting, and no, he didn’t ask me.”

“Why did you?”

He shrugged as if he wasn’t sure and looked away.

“I could use the company,” she said. If being with him was as comforting now as it had been, she definitely could.

They walked in silence, passing staring groups. Some would have stopped her, but not with this guy beside her. He had a forbidding look that kept them at bay. What was his name?

She pointed out her car, a congratulatory gift from her parents, though her mother would have been the one to choose it. Beth thought the tan-gray color was blah. Her mother said taupe was classy and Beth had no taste.

“Nice car,” he said quietly.

He probably meant “expensive car.” The luxury convertible wasn’t her style, but then, she had no taste.

He watched her settle behind the wheel, the way a pro bodyguard would. Meeting him was the only good thing in this horrible day.

“Drive carefully,” he said, his face full of concern.

“I want to thank you…” She searched for his name again and came up blank. “I don’t know when I’ll have another chance.”

He smiled, and her heart seemed to turn over.

“I work here, Dr. Brennan. We’ll see each other soon.”

It wasn’t the Brennan way to confide family affairs, but she couldn’t help saying, “No, I won’t be returning, not any time in the foreseeable future.”

He looked shocked. “You’re not leaving because…?” He stopped as if it wasn’t his business and he’d over-stepped by saying what he had.

“Actually, I’m a little confused about the reason I’m leaving. I just know I am.” She smiled so she wouldn’t cry.

“But you’ll be back.”

She couldn’t confirm that, and she couldn’t let this gorgeous guy see her break down. It was better to drive away with some of her pride intact.

Chapter One

New York, New York—September, seventeen months later

Autumn in New York City was Beth’s favorite time of year. It was only her second season here, but it seemed as if the leaves were falling earlier. She crunched through a clump on the sidewalk, walking back to work after lunch.

Because it was her birthday, she’d just split a delicious mile-high pastrami sandwich with a friend and indulged in her very own piece of chocolate-ripple cheesecake. With each lush, creamy bite, she’d told herself it wasn’t so bad, turning thirty.

Her lunch buddy was a doctor who volunteered part-time at Manhattan Free Clinic. Beth volunteered there, too, but full-time. As long as she was careful with her grandmother’s trust-fund money, she could afford to work without pay.

She loved working at the clinic, mostly because they were so glad to have her. No one hinted that she was on the staff because she was somebody’s relative. No one suggested that she might not be able to handle the job.

She’d come here at her brother Ry’s suggestion. He knew about Manhattan Free Clinic from his years working as a New York City paramedic. Since she hadn’t known how long it would take for her to find a new dream, she hadn’t wanted to sign a contract anywhere.

The work was a hybrid of ER medicine and private family practice. If and when she decided to leave, she would be taking more experience than she would have gained working the same amount of time at Brennan Medical Clinic.

Home was a tiny apartment on the Upper East Side, close enough to Central Park for her daily run. She’d wanted to live near the clinic in lower Manhattan, but her brother said she would appreciate a quiet neighborhood to go home to.

He’d been right. The city was a noisy place, with millions of people on the move. The infinite variety of sights and sounds had been a culture shock, but she’d grown to love it all. If it weren’t for missing Ry and Meg, Beth could stay here indefinitely.

Her cell phone rang, and the caller ID said Ry was about to wish her a happy birthday.

“Ry!” she said, answering with a smile. “I was just thinking about you.”

“How’s the birthday girl?”

“Lovin’ New York, missin’ you and Meg.”

“How did you like my present this morning?”

“Very much!” she said, laughing. “Thank you!”

A trio of his buddies had shown up at the clinic to sing “Happy Birthday.” The best-looking one asked her to dinner tonight and begged her to go since Ry was footing the bill. She’d thought, why not? It wasn’t as if she’d met anyone who mattered, and she didn’t want to be alone on her thirtieth birthday.

“They called after they’d seen you,” Ry said, laughing. “Your date for the night thanked me. He said you were the most attractive doc he’d ever seen.”

“It must have been my yellow sneakers. They draw men like flies.” She caught a glimpse of herself in a store window. Her yellow sneakers, blue scrubs and navy hoody sweatshirt with the New York Yankees logo made quite the fashion statement.

Her new hair cut was cool, though. The uneven blond length was more of a frame for her face than a style. The stylist had said he only gave this cut to pretty women with fine features, but he’d also said she should have permanent, tattooed eyeliner and lipstick. That wouldn’t be happening. She just wasn’t that trendy.

“Have you heard from the rest of the family?”

“Not yet. Grandpa will call. Dad might, but I don’t expect to hear from Mom.”

“It’s not just you, Beth. Since she moved in with Aunt Jackie, she’s shut herself off from the rest of the family,” he said comfortingly.

“I ask myself, how could the things that happened on one day tear Mom apart from her family so drastically?”

Ry cleared his throat. “You’re not going to like this, but I ask myself that every time I place a call to you a continent away.”

That stung. “I talk to Grandpa. He calls, I call him.” She’d gotten over her hurt feelings long ago.

“What do you tell Grandpa about coming back and working at the clinic?”

“That I’m still looking for a new dream.”

“What’s wrong with the old one?” he said, reproof in his voice.

Reproof? From the family rebel? “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? You don’t plan to work at the clinic when you get your M.D.”

“Right, but I never wanted to. You always did.”

“Give me that phone.” That was Meg’s voice in the background. “You don’t nag a person on her birthday.”

Beth grinned. Her favorite brother and her lifelong best friend made a great pair.

“Beth, don’t mind him,” Meg said, just as sassy as ever. “I wish you were here so we could celebrate your birthday at the beach, like we used to do.”

They ended the call as Beth neared the clinic. A chilly breeze blew through her hair, and she thought about home. It would be summer-hot there and very dry. The leaves wouldn’t change color until close to Thanksgiving, and, if it had been a very dry year, they would just go brown. Here, the trees were a glorious riot of red, orange and gold.

She’d learned to love the changing seasons. Each one made her more aware of her Creator. She’d been a brand-new Christian when she’d arrived a year ago last spring, but she’d studied the Word and knew Him much better now. He’d become her friend, someone she could talk to any time, any place—even now on the streets of New York.

Father God, it’s my birthday. You’ve given me the best presents anyone could have—a relationship with You, satisfying work, good health, friends—everything, actually, but a man of my own…and a baby!

I’m ready for them, Lord—the man and the baby! I’m more than ready. I won’t say I’m desperate, because no self-respecting woman admits that, but I can’t fool You. You know my heart.

Beth’s last patient of the day was a tough eleven-year-old kid with a long gash on his arm. She sutured the wound while the boy’s mother paced the small examining room and complained that he was nothing but a gangbanger, just like his brother.

The woman reminded Beth of her own mother—far less cultured, but just as hateful. In moments like these, it was hard to remember that a Christian prayed first and reacted second. The instinct to stand up for this boy was strong, but God could do more for him than she ever could.

Father, you know the need. Help this child and his family. Please silence this woman’s words. If you want help from me, I’m your willing servant.

The boy threw his mom a cocky smile. It might have been sheer bravado, but his mother threw up her hands and stormed out of the room.

Wow! If that was an answer to prayer, it came with the speed of light.

“So, tell me, Stevie, how did you get this cut?” Beth said, praying again, this time for words that might make a difference in the boy’s life.

“Me and my brother was practicing fighting.”

“With real knives? Isn’t that kind of dangerous?”

“My brother says you gotta keep it real if you’re gonna be ready when somebody comes at you with the real thing.”

What a philosophy! She would make sure he saw the staff social worker before he got out of here. Not only was it her duty to report a wound like this, somebody should think of this kid’s safety.

“Am I gonna have a scar?” He sounded hopeful.

“Not unless you want one. I’m good at this.” She hadn’t been much older than Stevie when her grandfather had begun teaching her suturing techniques.

“Scars are kind of cool,” the boy said, watching her work. “You’re kind of cool, too, even if you smell like baby puke.”

“You don’t like my perfume?”

He grinned at her little joke.

“I was about to change into fresh scrubs when you came in here, bleeding all over the place.”

“Is that my blood on your shoes?”

“Probably.”

“How come you wear yellow shoes?”

“They make me happy.”

“Aren’t you mad that I got blood on ’em? It made my mom real mad when I got blood on her towel.”

She smiled, hoping he would see the love of Jesus in her eyes. That’s what she was here for. “Do I look mad?”

He smiled back. “No, you look pretty. I think I could go for you.”

Maybe she’d overdone the smile.

“I dig blond chicks, even if you are kind of old.”

Stevie needed a little work on his pickup lines.

“You’ve got pretty eyes.”

That was better.

“I never seen anybody with that eye color. They’re kind of gold or brown or somethin’. And you got long eyelashes. Are you seeing anybody?”

Kids hated when they were treated like kids. If she could hang in here and talk to him as if he were an adult, there might be an opening to talk about Jesus. “I’m still single, Stevie. How about you?”

“I’m not with anybody either. You wanna go out some time, Doc?”

There it was. “I might if we went to church. You wanna take me to church?”

“Nah. I mean, like on a real date, like a movie.”

“Sorry, but I can’t go on real dates with my patients.”

“Oh, sure. I understand.”

“But the invitation to church still holds.” She described the store-front church near the clinic and their cool program for kids.

“I might try it some time,” Stevie said, maybe to please. “You know, you’re a really good doctor. The best I’ve ever seen.”