Free The Heavenly Surrender by Marcia Lynn McClure

had set. She found she slept more soundly than she had ever before.
    Lita and Brenna were frequent visitors. Genieva looked forward to each time they were near—for they shared wonderful conversation and laughter and confided in and encouraged each other.
    On this particular night in mid-April, the couples met for dinner at Brenna and Travis’s. Afterward, as Genieva stood at the kitchen sink drying the plates Lita handed to her from the rinse bucket, she noted how absolutely secure she felt—how thoroughly happy. Lita and Brenna giggled together at some humorous story of Brian’s first attempt at fixing a loose shingle on the roof, resulting in his finding himself somehow flat on the seat of his pants in the dirt. Genieva smiled at the humorous story but also at the pure delight of her friends. Her attention was drawn to the conversation of the three men sitting on the front porch steps. She could hear the comforting lull of their low, masculine voices as they talked, and every now and again a wisp of their conversation was audible to her.
    “I’ve got to get that field plowed this next week, I do,” Brevan sighed. “Me corn is gonna be late gettin’ in if I don’t.”
    “Ya’ve had other things…distractin’ ya, ya have,” Brian chuckled. “Not that I blame ya now.”
    “Nothin’ is distractin’ me. Just the fact that Travis had to run off and marry Brenna, and Lita marry you, ’tis all. I’ve been havin’ to break in the new help, I have. It’s put me behind in me schedulin’.” Brevan’s explanation was followed by a yawn and another sigh.
    “How do ya do it, Brevan?” Travis asked.
    “How do I do what?” Brevan asked in return.
    “How do you…how do you keep your hands off the woman?” Travis explained.
    Genieva set the plate she had been drying on the counter, leaning forward in order to hear better. She briefly looked to Lita when the woman’s elbow met with Genieva’s ribs. Lita and Brenna were both listening intently as well—Lita arching interested eyebrows and nodding at Genieva—an indication she should keep her attention on the conversation going on outside.
    But much to the ladies’ frustration, a sudden breeze wafted through the open kitchen window—sending the wind chimes hanging just outside it dancing and tinkling with their piped tune.
    “How irritatin’,” Brenna grumbled when the next sound to sail on the breeze was the sound of all three men chuckling lowly and speaking in quiet voices now.
    “I am sure he nearly ties himself to his bedpost to keep away from you, Genieva,” Lita whispered, winking with delight.
    Genieva shook her head and forced a smile. “I can assure you, Lita…I am no temptation to Brevan. And anyway, he is far too busy with his work to have time to even think of anything else.”
    “ Oh, he’s a good one at pretendin’, he is,” Brenna whispered. “But I’ll tell ya this, Genieva McLean…Brevan is the most powerful man I’ve seen in me life when it comes to self-control. But even he’ll break sooner or later and then…” Brenna shook her head and winked. “Well, ya’ll have yar hands full, ya will. I hope ya’re up to it.”
    “Sí!” Lita agreed. “It will throw you for a big fall the first time Brevan gives you his…beso…” Lita looked to Brenna inquisitively. “Beso?” she asked.
    “Kiss,” Brenna interpreted.
    “Sí. The first time he kiss you, Genieva…you will fall hard,” Lita finished, smiling with great certainty.
    Genieva stared at Lita—suddenly very curious. She had not missed the reprimanding glare Brenna directed toward the beautiful Mexican woman.
    “Of course…this is what happened the first time Brian kiss me, you see.” Lita stammered. She cast her gaze down toward the sink and resumed rinsing the dishes.
    “I see,” Genieva muttered. Then, shaking her head to dispel the suspicions forming in her mind, she added, “But I don’t fall easily, Lita. And I’m further assured I’ve nothing