When Comes the Spring (Canadian West, #2)

by Janette Oke

Already, in thinking and feeling, I was Wynn’s—his alone for all time and eternity. He would be my family, my protector, my spiritual head, my lover, my friend.

“I love you, Daddy,” I said softly. “Thank you for everything. Thank you for raising me to be ready for a home of my own. I didn’t realize it until—until—now. But you did. You prepared me for this—for Wynn—and I thank you.”

This was not just a whim, not just a schoolgirl romance. This was a love. A love deep and lasting, and I would be a wife and a helpmeet for the man I loved. My father had showed me how. Unconsciously, in all of those years of my growing up, he had been showing me the way to a good marriage relationship—with his kindness, consideration, and strong loyalty to those he loved. I held him more tightly. I loved him very much.

Father led in prayer, asking that the Lord would make my home, wherever it might be, a place of love. “Might there always be harmony and commitment, love and happiness. Might there be strength for the hard times, humor to ease the tense times, and shoulders always available for the times of tears,” he prayed.

Banff was beautiful. There are no words to adequately describe the beauty of those mountains. I wanted to look and look at them—to carry them always in my heart.