Excerpt 1 of CAPA nominated FOOLISH GAMES by Karen Wiesner

FOOLISH GAMES, Book 3 of the Family Heirlooms Series
by Karen Wiesner
Inspirational Romance
978-1-60504-583-2 (electronic); 978-1-60504-601-3 (trade paperback)
Samhain Publishing

Find out more about this book and series:
http://www.angelfire.com/stars4/kswiesner/fiction9.html


Book Three Family Heirloom: Healing

Falling in love will take letting go of their fears. That, or a miracle…

A year after he lost his beloved wife, Peter Samuels still struggles with overwhelming grief. As the sole caretaker of growing children, the first anniversary of her death hits especially hard as he faces the world without a partner.

There is only one man for Kimberly Wolfe. Her boss, Peter. But he’s taken. First, by a marriage she envied from afar. Now by his grief. However, she’s used to the idea that happily-ever-after may never happen, not with a childhood haunted by a domineering father who used the Bible to justify his God-given place as the head of their household. A father who still refuses to repent for the wrong he’s done. Kim has tried, but forgiveness comes hard when trust is in short supply.

An innocent kiss on New Year’s leads to a growing awareness—of each other, and of the gaping holes in their lives that only love can fill. But before they can take the first steps on the road to healing, first they have to build a bridge…


Excerpt
© Karen Wiesner


Peter Samuels couldn’t remember the last time it’d snowed this much. Peaceful, Wisconsin had enjoyed relatively mild winters for several years. Now snow slammed against the front porch windows of his parents’ home in icy blasts. He literally couldn’t see anything beyond the white swirl howling outside.
Unfortunately, I remember all too well the last time it was this cold. The day Lydia died last year. That day, like my life, had been such an oxymoron.
He’d never understood how a day so cold could also be filled with sunlight…nor how a man tremendously blessed in life could lose so much in the blink of an eye.
The sound of a child laughing brought his attention back to the present, and he turned to look behind him. After church on Sundays, the Samuels clan had gotten together as a matter of tradition for a potluck at his parents’ home. His father pastored the small church only two country miles away. With such a large family, their get-togethers were great, loud affairs. Only twenty-four-year-old Jay, his youngest brother who was in the Marines, and Marcus, Peter’s brother closest to him in age and a medical missionary for a Christian organization overseas, missed out regularly.
And Lydia. She loved these weekend bonding experiences, loved how close my family was.
“Wow, it’s really piling up out there!” a voice said behind him.
Kimberly Wolfe—both employee and dear friend—stood in the doorway between the hall and the porch. For an instant, he wondered if she’d come looking for him. Then she smiled, putting an irresistible sparkle in those baby blue eyes of hers, and all he could think about was the way his cold heart warmed at the sight of her. “I bet Josh and Justine are glad to be in Hawaii.”
Peter chuckled.
Kimberly strode into the enclosed porch, coming to stand beside him at the wall of windows. Once again, she murmured in shock at the weather. The pleasant honeysuckle scent he associated with her filled the air around him. She’d worked at the Christian bookstore he owned in town since he’d opened for business fifteen years earlier. His twin sister, Tamara, had married Kimberly’s older brother Robert. Even without that association, Kimberly was family to the Samuels clan. To Peter…
Without her, especially this past year, I would have lost even my bookstore.
She turned, her gaze on him tenderly assessing. “What are you doing out here all alone?”
He’d hoped no one would notice his absence. He should have known someone would. That Kimberly came to his rescue didn’t surprise him one iota.
She reached over to slip her arm through his, looking up at him with the clear urge that he should talk to her.
People are drawn to Kimberly because she’s so easy to talk to. And not simply because her goodness comes packaged in beauty.
He sighed, noting that she shivered slightly against him despite the thick cable-knit sweater she wore. The porch really was chilly. His father had never been very mechanically inclined. When work needed to be done around the house, his mother usually did it, or she’d ask Josh—the real handyman in the family—to help. Peter made a mental note to talk to his brother later about insulating the windows. For now, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and wrapped it around Kimberly’s shoulders.
“Thanks,” she murmured, drawing her arms into the sleeves.
Peter couldn’t help noticing how adorable she looked, utterly drowning in his coat. She crossed her arms over her torso again before glancing up at him. “This can’t be easy for you.”
The gentle tone of her voice surprised him. “What?”
She didn’t need to say it. Kimberly was an open book to him, no doubt as much as he was to her after all this time. She knew what time of year this was. Realized what had happened last year to mark this day forever.
This time last year, I was telling the woman I loved goodbye until I join her in heaven.
Peter smiled, a tight, horror-struck thing that made his mouth hurt. Arms folded over his chest against the reminder of so much cold, he closed his eyes. A blizzard had raged inside him last year, and it’d cast darkness over his entire life since.
Peter inhaled sharply. “I’m doing all right…though not as well as my children.”
James, thirteen, and Brenna, eleven, had experienced a rough time of it. But he’d seen the change in them lately. They were accepting, adjusting—thanks to the efforts on his part and that of his family members. Peter thanked God often for their resiliency. Was he as resilient? He wasn’t sure.
“Why do you say that?” Kimberly asked.
“James and Brenna have begged to spend New Year’s Eve overnight with friends.”
“Ah. Well, that sounds like fun for them. Did you have something else planned for the three of you? A tradition?”
All holidays were family affairs. But his reservations had nothing to do with tradition.
“No. It just seems like we should be together as a family during this time. Lydia died a year ago on New Year’s Eve. Tomorrow.”
Leaning her chin on his arm, she hugged him again from the side. The empathic expression on her beautiful face filled him with relief. The ache retreated a little, sending his worries receding to the back of his mind.
“Oh, honey,” she murmured. “I know it’s hard for you. I understand that it’s even hard for you to see your children healing the way they are.”
“Does that make me a monster?”
“The opposite,” she insisted fiercely. “And it bothers you so much because you’re nowhere near that place yourself.”
Peter ran a frustrated hand through his thick, dark hair. “I thought I was doing well. I believed it. Until I woke up this morning, and my first thought was Tomorrow. As if she’ll die all over again.”
“Because you took down the window display,” Kimberly said in sudden enlightenment.
He’d gone in to work Friday morning, earlier than usual, and taken down the window display he’d crafted a year ago. In the tiny display at the front of his store, he’d folded their wedding quilt and placed on top of it Lydia’s picture inscribed with Psalm 116:15: “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.” Taking it down had been harder than he ever imagined it would be. But he’d somehow understood the importance of doing it. Until Kimberly came in and wordlessly hugged him with tears in her eyes that morning, no doubt seeing the empty display window, he hadn’t cried at any time during the process.
Her hands tightened on his arm, and her comfort radiated right to his very soul. He covered her hands with his own, wondering how she always seemed to know exactly what he was going through—even those things he didn’t want to admit to himself.
“I know you know this, Peter,” Kimberly started, “but Brenna and James will never forget their mother. She’ll always be a special part of them. The fact that they’re ready to move on doesn’t change that at all.”
He nodded, realizing that he’d needed to hear her say what he already knew. “And I want them to move on.”
“I know you do.”
After another cleansing breath, he forced himself to grin as he said, “So you’re saying I should let them stay overnight at their friends’?”
“No one could fault you if you didn’t, but it’d be good for them.”
She was right, and he nodded. But the decision didn’t feel any easier. She must have seen the discomfort in his expression because she shifted to put her arms around him. Unexpectedly, Peter became aware of how bulky his suit jacket was between them, preventing him from feeling her warm figure, the way he usually did when they embraced.
Curvaceous figure.
Awareness jolted into shock. What was he doing? Surprised guilt made him rationalize. Anyone who’s ever just seen Kimberly Wolfe knows she’s an unearthly beautiful woman. And she takes very good care of her body. I’d have to be dead not to be aware of those truths.
The scent of honeysuckle mingled with his own spicy cologne. He remembered—perfectly apropros to do so—that he’d changed aftershave brands after Lydia died. Somehow, he could no longer wear the scent she’d so loved when she wasn’t around to snuggle into his neck and breath him in. Kimberly commented on how much she liked the new brand the day after I started wearing it. Said she liked it better.
What am I doing here?


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