Table of Contents
KATHRYN ALEXANDER
loves to write, and the publication of her first book, The Reluctant Bride, is the realization of a dream, an answer to a prayer and proof that a book can be written piecemeal, in small portions of time.
She writes inspirational romance because, having been a Christian for many years, incorporating the element of faith in the Lord into a romantic story line seemed like a lovely and appropriate idea. After all, in a society where love for a lifetime is difficult to find, imagine discovering it, unexpectedly, as a gift sent from God.
Married to Kelly, her own personal love of a lifetime, Kathryn and her husband have one son, John, who is the proud owner of the family's two housepests (not a typo), Herbie the cat and Copper the dog.
Kathryn and her family have been members of their church for nearly five years, where she co-teaches a Sunday school class of active two-year-olds. She is now a stay-at-home mom who writes between carpooling, baby-sitting and applying bandages, when necessary.
The Reluctant Bride
Kathryn Alexander
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
-Psalms 23:1
To my husband, Kelly, who continues to give me
the happiest years of my life (may there be many
more!), and to our son, John, for his many hours of
playing cars on the library floor close to the word
processor while I typed my first book.
“I thought you said Michael Shepherd was here.” The dark-haired attorney directed his half statement, half question to the receptionist, but his eyes lingered on the only person seated in the lobby: a young, pretty woman with auburn curls pushed casually over her shoulder, and her nose buried in a magazine. She looked up at the mention of the name.
“And this,” the lawyer stated matter-of-factly, “is definitely not a Michael.”
“It's Micah Shepherd,” she explained, returning the magazine to the coffee table and rising from her chair. “M-I-C-A-H.”
A darkening gaze surveyed her briefly. “Witness to the Winslow accident?”
“Yes,” Micah responded. “I received a letter asking me to come in to answer a few questions.”
“Yes, I sent the letter. I'm Rob Granston.” He smiled as he shook the slender hand Micah extended toward him.
Rob Granston appeared much like Micah's friend Carole had described. Tall, yes, just as Micah needed to match her own height of five-eight, and his eyes were the gentle blue Carole had mentioned. His hair, coal black, looked soft and fine, but it was that wide, welcoming smile that his mouth curved into so easily that concerned Micah the most. Micah had come to the law offices today only because she felt it was her duty as a citizen. She had no intention of falling for this guy, no matter how “right” her friend claimed he would be for her.
“My client and I appreciate your taking the time to come in. Not everyone agrees to be interviewed when they're named as a witness to an automobile accident,” Rob stated.
“I think it's my responsibility to tell you what I know about it. Will Mrs. Winslow be here this afternoon?” Micah asked.
“No, she's been hospitalized with back injuries,” he responded as he directed her down a hallway. “First door to your left,” he instructed, and they entered a large office decorated in deep, almost oppressive hues of brown and rust, with bulky furniture strategically placed throughout the room. Accustomed to the brightly colored, open spaces of a classroom, Micah found her surroundings slightly overwhelming.
“I apologize for the mix-up about your name. I believe the letter I sent was mistakenly addressed to ‘Michael’ Shepherd,” Rob noted. “When Mrs. Winslow gave us the information, there was obviously some misunderstanding.”
“It's all right,” Micah replied. “When you have an unusual name like mine, you get used to that.”
“I do need to ask a few questions. Please, have a seat, Miss Shepherd. It is ‘Miss’?” Rob watched her sit down in the leather chair nearest the desk.
“Yes,” Micah said with slight hesitation. “It is.” She placed her small canvas handbag on the floor and silently prayed this meeting would not last long.
Rob took a seat behind his desk and from the clutter off to the side, he pulled a legal pad, the Winslow file and a pen. Looking up, he found Micah staring out the window.
“Twentieth floor,” she commented.
“Yes.” Rob glanced toward the window that had captured Micah's attention. “The view is the best thing about this office.”