Table of Contents
DORIS ELAINE FELL
With books and dolls as her companions, Doris knew from the time she was seven that she wanted to be a nurse and a writer when she grew up. Challenged by these childhood dreams, she escaped the confinement of a tiny hometown to pursue a multifaceted career as a teacher, missionary, nurse, freelance editor and author. Her diverse professions have taken her to a Carib village in Guatemala, a Swiss chalet in the Alps, through rugged mountain passes in Mexico, and to a bamboo schoolhouse in the Philippines. She also thoroughly enjoys her teddy bear collection and sitting by the river in eastern Washington with her great-nieces and nephews.
But it was as a high schooler that Doris knelt by her bedside and asked God for the privilege of one day writing for His glory. For the past nine years she has written full-time, expressing her love for a gracious God and her love of life and living. As evident in Long-Awaited Wedding, her first romance novel with Steeple Hill, the subtle theme of forgiveness marks her writing. Other publishers of her work include Crossway Books and Fleming Revell. She is currently under contract for her fifteenth book.
Long-Awaited Wedding
Doris Elaine Fell
Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.
—Psalm 139:23-24
To
HANNAH MARIE
WHO WANTS TO BE A WIFE AND MOMMY
WHEN SHE GROWS UP
Maureen Davenport entered the restaurant on the arm of Dwayne Crocker, an affable, rangy man in his late thirties, a brilliant engineer with a genius for math, a drolly humorous man…a total bore. She wondered now why she had agreed to come with him.
She had planned on leaving work on time and heading straight home for a relaxing soak in the hot tub. It was her way to unravel, to close out the day, to shut out her anxieties over the pending merger between Fabian Industries and Larhaven Aircraft Her preoccupation with the merger had left her without defense or excuses when Dwayne blocked her exit at closing time and asked, “How about dinner and a show this evening?”
So here she was, sitting across from him in a crowded restaurant that smelled of fried chicken and wondering how she could endure five hours in Dwayne’s company. She had expected this type of place—an economical menu with a quaint old-fashioned setting, tables crowded together and an abundance of fussing children.
She ran her hand over the closed menu, deciding on the house salad and a steaming cup of tea. Idly she watched Dwayne adjust his silver-rimmed glasses. The glasses magnified the glossy gray of his eyes—his best feature—and now as she met his glance, she saw the flecks of dark blue in the gray. His dancing eyes were evenly set in his narrow face, a not unpleasant face in spite of the prominent bony structure.
Before she could tell him what she wanted, he turned to the waitress, arched his thick brows and said, “We’re starving. Make it two chicken dinners—the whole works. Tea for the lady—”
So he remembered her preference, she thought.
“And coffee for me. And bring plenty of biscuits.”
As they waited, he knuckled his fingers. “Did I blow it?”
She mellowed her response. “I only wanted a salad.”
“And some place more exclusive?” He pulled a candle from his pocket and shoved it in the flower vase. Then he whipped out a lighter and made a ceremony of lighting it. “There, is that better?” he asked.