In celebration, I have decided to post a few pages for your reading enjoyment, because I’m a nice person, but mostly because I hope once you read it, you’ll feel compelled to go and buy it. If you haven’t read Courage (Book 1) yet, you should probably pick that up too, though you can read Faith without it. (but then you’ll be missing some good stuff, and you don’t want to do that, do you? Do you? No, I didn’t think you did.) And… if you have Kindle Unlimited you don’t even have to buy it – it’s free.
Okay, I’m shutting up. Here’s the promised beginning.
(By reading the first chapter you are agreeing to go and get the full book, we run on the honesty program here, so be honest.) Just kidding. Kinda.
Walking down the stairs is easier now than it was a week ago, but it’s still not a pleasant experience. Sleeping on the couch downstairs would be easier on my muscles, but I feel bad enough about taking up a room in Chance’s house, I would feel much worse if I took over his living room too. Actually, it’s Chance and Alex’s house. That still feels weird to say, or really, even think.
It wasn’t all that long ago that Alex was living with me and Mike. Pregnant, abused, and alone. I still can’t quite believe how quickly our roles in each other’s lives have switched. Now I’m the one that needs help, and my reasons for needing it aren’t nearly as noble as hers.
Alex has always been a little wounded, a little broken. She’s the kind of girl that most days you’re amazed she found the will to get out of bed. That’s how it used to be, anyway. These days she’s an entirely different person. And so am I.
“Good morning, Sunshine!” Alex’s voice carries up the last couple of stairs from the kitchen.
“How can you be so happy this early?” I ask, irritated that even speaking makes my head hurt worse than it did a minute ago, and it didn’t feel good then.
She’s sitting at the breakfast counter, long red hair in a ponytail. Her smile still surprises me every time I see it. The Alex I knew before was a tough girl. She was smart, pretty, and no matter what happened to her, she just kept going, but I would never have described her as happy. This new, happy, life-loving Alex is taking a lot of getting used to.
She looks up from Cadan in his bouncy seat, the tiny spoon in her hand hovering above a jar of pureed peaches. “Early?” she laughs. “It’s not early, Bay. It’s almost eleven o’clock. This is Cadan’s lunch.” Her smile fades to concern. “Still having trouble sleeping?”
I consider my answer. She deserves the truth of course, but I don’t want this to turn into another long conversation about how I should go back to the doctor again. “It’s getting better,” I say. Not the complete truth, but not a lie either.
She nods and spoons more peaches into Cadan’s smiling mouth. He’s such a cute baby. I feel a small pang of jealousy and tamp it down. I’m not jealous, I’m happy for her. Continue reading