Daddy's Home. Debra Kastner
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“Where is he?” Christopher’s low voice resonated in her ears.
“Get out of here,” Jasmine said, hurt and anger warring within her.
“Not until I’ve seen my son.”
“Your son? Your son is doing very well without you. When did you decide to be a daddy, Christopher? Yesterday?”
Some things hadn’t changed, Christopher thought. Jasmine Enderlin was as pigheaded as she’d always been. If she hadn’t jumped to conclusions a year ago, he wouldn’t be standing here like a stranger on her front porch. If God had been willing, they would have been married.
But God wasn’t willing. And Jasmine wasn’t budging.
He’d been so certain he was meant to come back. He loved Jasmine. He always had. And though he knew he had a long way to travel to get back in her good graces, it had to be done. He needed Sammy in his life.
Sammy—and Jasmine.
DEB KASTNER
The wife of a Reformed Episcopal minister, Deb naturally found her niche in the Christian/inspirational romance market. She enjoys tackling the issues of faith and trust within the context of a romance. Her characters range from upbeat and humorous to (her favorite) dark and brooding heroes. Her plots fall anywhere between, from a playful romp to the deeply emotional.
When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her husband and three girls and, whenever she can manage, attending regional dinner theater and touring Broadway musicals.
Daddy’s Home
Debra Kastner
He has showed you, O man, what is good.
And what does the Lord require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly
with your God.
—Micah 6:8
To my daddy, Jim Larkin,
for never letting me give anything but my best.
And for my girls’ daddy, Joseph C. Kastner, Jr.,
who never stopped believing.
“Christopher’s back in town.”
Jasmine Enderlin stiffened at the statement. Keeping a carefully neutral expression on her face, she met her grandmother’s shrewd gaze. “And you’re telling me this because…?”
“Don’t be obtuse,” Gram snapped, shaking a wrinkled finger under Jasmine’s nose. “Don’t you pretend I need to spell it out for you. I’m not buying. You know exactly what I’m saying, and you know why. Now, do you want to know the details, or don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispered, not even sure Gram would hear her. She released an audible sigh and turned back to the thick olive-colored sweater she’d been folding moments before.
Jenny’s sweater.
Brushing the soft material across her cheek, she caught a whiff of Jenny’s light, breezy scent on it.
She wouldn’t have thought something as simple as the smell of her sister’s perfume would set her off, but for some reason, today it did. Her eyes pricked with tears, and she brushed them away with a hurried swipe of her fist, hoping Gram wouldn’t notice the furtive action.
Why would Christopher come back to Westcliffe at all, and especially now of all times?
As if to answer Jasmine’s unspoken question, Gram shrugged her age-bent shoulders. “He wants his son.”
“What?” She sprang from the bed, tipping a pile of freshly folded blue jeans into a heap at her feet. “What do you mean he wants Sammy? He can’t have him,” she added vehemently, hugging her arms to her chest as if protecting an infant there. Her infant.
A moment more and she would have dashed from the room to snatch up the baby boy sleeping soundly in his bassinet in the next bedroom, but Gram held up a finger in protest. “You haven’t heard the story.”
I