The Promise - Softcover

Wiseman, Beth

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1401685951 ISBN 13: 9781401685959

Publisher: Thomas Nelson, 2014

Synopsis

Mallory’s search for happiness leads her to a faraway place. There she finds heartache, betrayal—and danger.

Mallory Hammond is determined that no one will stand in the way of her goal—to save a life. She had that chance years ago, and she failed to take it, leaving her adrift and in search of the real meaning of her life. Finally, she meets a man online from a volatile corner of the world who offers her the chance to find that purpose. But she will have to leave everyone she loves behind in order to take it.

Tate Webber has loved Mallory for many years. He understands that Mallory will never be happy with him until her deepest heart’s desire is satisfied. When Mallory decides to travel across the world to fulfi ll her dreams, Tate begs her not to go but tries to give her the space she needs. Mallory embarks on her dangerous journey only to discover how swiftly and easily promises can be broken. And Mallory can only pray that she will make it out alive.

Inspired by actual events, The Promise is a riveting love story that asks the question: how far will we go for love?

“Takes readers to a place where promises mean something very different than expected, and where her protagonist realizes that the life that needs saving is her own. . . . Wiseman draws readers into a world of deception, danger, and defiance. Readers will feel the anguish of Mallory’s loved ones as they pray for her to make it home.” —Booklist 

About this title

About the Author

Bestselling and award-winning author Beth Wiseman has sold over two million books. She is the recipient of the coveted Holt Medallion, is a two-time Carol Award winner, and has won the Inspirational Reader's Choice Award three times. Her books have been on various bestseller lists, including CBA, ECPA, Christianbook, and Publishers Weekly. Beth and her husband are empty nesters enjoying country life in south-central Texas. Visit her online at BethWiseman.com; Facebook: @AuthorBethWiseman; Twitter: @BethWiseman; Instagram: @bethwisemanauthor

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

The Promise

By Beth Wiseman

Thomas Nelson

Copyright © 2014 Elizabeth Wiseman Mackey
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4016-8595-9

CHAPTER 1

Mallory handed Rosa her empty plate. "As usual, dessert was awesome." The food was what kept the mandatory Sunday dinners at her parents' house bearable.

Rosa nodded. Though her dark hair was now speckled with gray, her smile still revealed her girlish dimples and laugh crinkles around her bright eyes. "Glad you liked it, Munchkin."

Mallory smiled at the maid's use of the pet name after all these years.

Rosa went around the table to pick up dessert plates, but Mallory's sister, Vicky, was still working on her key lime pie. Though Mallory missed seeing Haley and Braiden, who were with their father today, she was glad Vicky's children weren't present in case things were about to get ugly.

"Mom, Dad ... there's something I need to tell you." Mallory's stomach churned and her voice was shaky.

Her mother set down her wineglass. Mallory was pretty sure she'd seen Rosa fill it four times.

"What is it?" Her mother raised her eyebrows. Eyebrows that seemed to be higher up on her forehead. And the tiny lines of time that feathered from each of her eyes had disappeared as well. Mallory was studying the changes, not sure if she liked them or not, when her mother cleared her throat. "What do you need to tell us, Mallory?"

She swallowed hard. "I'm donating one of my kidneys."

Her father sat taller, his eyes sharp and assessing. Vicky halted her fork midway to her mouth, glancing back and forth between their parents. Her mother slammed a palm against the table, shaking the dishes that hadn't yet been cleared.

"No! We're not going through this again." Mom shook her head as she glared at Mallory.

"Mom, I'm an adult. And I've made my decision."

Her mother put her empty wineglass on the table, then pointed a finger at her daughter. "I knew this was why you took a job working for that man. This has never been about utilizing your business degree."

Mallory looked at her father. "Dad, please tell me you understand why I want to do this."

Her father leaned back against his chair and sighed. "Of course I understand, Mallory. But it's a dangerous procedure, and you're our daughter. You need to understand how we feel too."

"I get that, Dad. I really do. But I'm going ahead. I've signed up in a paired kidney exchange program."

Mallory's mother blinked her eyes a few times as she raised her chin. "This isn't the only way to help. Do you have any idea how much money I have collected over the years through fund-raisers? Money specifically for the Kidney Foundation."

"Mom." Mallory sighed. "That's wonderful. But this isn't a problem that you can just throw money at. People have to make real sacrifices to save lives."

"Did that Muslim put you up to this?" Her mother looked around for Rosa, then pointed at her glass again.

"That is beyond offensive." Mallory glared at her. "I'm going to write that comment off to the wine."

"They do all hate us, you know." Vicky eased a piece of pie onto her fork. "We're all infidels to them. They want us all dead."

"You don't even know what you're talking about," Mallory said to her sister. "Ismail is a doctor. He's in the business of saving lives, not taking them."

"That's enough." Dad lifted both his palms, and after he slowly lowered them, he said, "We can't control what you do, honey."

Not this time.

"But we want to make sure you've thought this through." He laid his napkin on his plate.

Mallory blinked back tears. "I've had twelve years to think it through. And I made a promise to Kelsey."

Tate slid off the piano bench and went to the door. "Why don't you use your key, babe?" he asked, stepping aside so Mallory could come in.

She leaned up and kissed him. "Because I don't live here."

"Then move in." He smiled, knowing what she would say. He'd asked plenty of times.

Mallory sat down on the couch and leaned her head back, giving her blond waves a toss. She closed her eyes. "Your mother would have a fit."

Tate made a quick scan of the room and found ET curled up in the corner behind the rocking chair. Twice the orange-and-white tabby had mistaken Mallory's hair for a plaything when she'd draped it over the back of the couch.

"She'd get over it. You know she loves you." Tate sat down beside her. "So how'd it go?"

Mallory inhaled a big gulp of air, blew it out slowly, and turned to face him. She pulled all her hair over her right shoulder and started braiding it. Tate knew she'd braid it to the end, undo it, and run her fingers through it. Then probably braid it again. It was something she did when she was nervous or upset.

"It went about how I figured it would. Mom went nuts, Vicky made a stupid comment, and Dad tried to keep the peace."

Tate reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.

"I know you don't want me to do this either. But at least you understand, right?"

Tate kicked his shoeless feet up on the coffee table. "Yeah, I understand. But you blame yourself too much. You were only seventeen. Your parents made the decision."

She was quiet for a while, then sighed. "Maybe I didn't fight hard enough. Maybe if I'd been more insistent, they would have agreed. And Kelsey would be alive right now."

Tate shook his head. "No. Don't do that to yourself. Your parents made a choice not to let their seventeen-year-old child have major surgery."

"I guess. But I was the youngest one tested. Girls of childbearing age are never even considered as donors, but since we already knew I couldn't have children, there was no worry about a high-risk pregnancy down the line. I was the perfect person to do it."

Tate waited. He knew about Mallory's condition, of course, and had assured her that it wasn't going to bother him not to have children. If she wanted to adopt someday, fine, but he wasn't sure he was father material anyway. He'd been around kids plenty when he'd taught music at the junior high, and most of his piano students now were children.

"Anyway, no one else was a match. And I had a young, healthy kidney that would have saved Kelsey's life. When I couldn't give that to her, I made a promise that I'd save another life since I couldn't save hers."

"I know. But it wasn't a promise she asked you to make."

Mallory leaned her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her and kissed her on the cheek.

"I want to make a difference."

"You do make a difference, each and every day. Just by being you."

She snuggled in closer. "Do you know how much I love you, Tater Tot?"

Tate grinned. "You know how I feel about that name." It seemed unmanly not to put up a little resistance.

She looked up at him with her big, blue eyes and batted her lashes. "I think you secretly love it."

Tate smiled. "Do ya now?"

ET padded across the living room floor, stopping to yawn before he continued on to a small bed in the corner. Tate yawned as well.

"Nap time? I'm guessing you and your mother went to Mass, then to IHOP You ordered two pancakes and some fruit. And instead of syrup, you put honey on your pancakes." She nodded toward the front window. "Then you came home and mowed the yard." She glanced at her watch. "So, this would make it nap time."

Tate frowned. "Wow. You make me sound so OCD."

She giggled. "No. Just structured."

Tate supposed that in comparison to Mallory, he probably was a little obsessive-compulsive. But it gave him comfort to stay organized and on a schedule. Mallory just winged it and lived spontaneously, on the edge.

"But that's why we complement each other," she added. "That whole opposites attract thing—maybe there's something to it."

"Maybe," he said, half yawning again. He pulled her closer. "You gonna take a nap with me?" As tired as he was, sleep wasn't his top priority.

"I'm not tired," she said with a grin. "But you go ahead."

What he really needed was a distraction. He glanced at his cell phone on the end table. He'd even kept it on vibrate during Mass so he wouldn't miss a call. He wasn't sure if no news was good news. Either way, he'd chosen not to say anything to Mallory yet. If he was offered the job in Chicago, it was really going to shake things up for the two of them.

"Why don't you play something for me? Something pretty and soothing," she said softly.

Tate eased his arm from around her and made his way across the small room to his first love: the baby grand that had been a gift from his uncle nearly thirteen years ago. The black finish shone as brightly today as it did back then. He slid onto the bench and lowered his fingers to the keys and played one of the many songs he'd written for Mallory.

Once again she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the couch.

Tate stopped abruptly when his cell phone started to ring.

"Aren't you going to get that?" She slid to the end of the couch and peered down at the caller ID. "Chicago Academy for the Arts? Why would they be calling you?"

Tate swallowed hard but didn't move. Was calling him on a Sunday afternoon going to be good news or bad?

CHAPTER 2

Mallory picked up her pace on the treadmill but didn't bother to dab at the sweat beading on her forehead and dribbling down her cheeks.

"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?" Soraya had kept a steady pace alongside, though she'd barely broken a sweat. "You should tell me before you pass out." She turned to Mallory and grinned.

Mallory knew that if anyone could cheer her up, it was Soraya, but still she hesitated.

The two women had met at a Pilates class six months earlier. Soraya was from Lahore, where she'd led a privileged life with her family in Pakistan before moving to the United States ten years ago. She was engaged to Ismail, Mallory's boss, and it was she who'd told Mallory about the job opening in his office.

Mallory wasn't sure her friend would understand her dilemma. She lowered the incline on the treadmill and kicked the speed back a few notches. "Tate might have a job offer in Chicago."

"Oh." Soraya's eyes widened a little. "And of course you would move with him."

Mallory hung her head for a moment before she looked back at her friend. "I — I don't know. I — I love Tate. With all my heart. I can't imagine being with anyone else." She sighed.

"There is a but in there somewhere," Soraya said as she smiled again.

"I love my job." Mallory raised her shoulders and lowered them slowly as she reached for the towel she had draped over the handrail.

"Of course you do. Who wouldn't love working for my Ismail?" She winked at Mallory.

"You're right to be proud of him, Soraya. He exudes positive energy in everything he does, and he's a great doctor." Mallory caught her breath as she settled into a steady cooldown. "You know that if something happened—and I did have to quit—I would give Ismail plenty of notice."

Soraya raised a sculpted eyebrow. "I know this. I would tell you that there are many Ismails out there to work for"—she pushed her bottom lip into a pout—"but that would be a lie. However ... you must ask yourself how many Tates are out there. And, by the way, when am I to meet this fabulous fellow?"

"Soon. The four of us need to get together. And I know you're right. I can't imagine my life without Tate."

Soraya finally slowed down on the treadmill, her thick, dark ponytail bouncing in step with her. "I would follow my Ismail to the end of the earth." Her dark eyes lit up when she talked about her fiancé.

"Sounds like you are doing exactly that. I know when the wedding is here, but when is the second celebration?" Mallory knew how much effort was going into the two wedding ceremonies Soraya and Ismail were planning. One here in Houston, the other in their homeland.

"Two months after the one here." Soraya took a sip from her water bottle. Mallory's had been empty for at least the past ten minutes.

Soraya worked out daily, while getting to Pilates once a week was a struggle for Mallory, and the gym was a hit or miss. She thought about Tate and his exercise ritual.

"Right now I am trying to stay focused on our trip to Italy," Soraya added.

They were leaving soon, and Ismail had asked Mallory if she could feed his fish while they were away.

"Ismail seems excited about it."

"Positano is one of my most favorite places in the world, and Ismail has never been there. We considered it for our honeymoon, but we could both use a vacation right now. And Ismail wants to go to Hawaii for our honeymoon."

Soraya stepped off the platform and picked up her phone from the holding area on the treadmill. "No e-mails. No texts. No missed calls." She set it back down and smiled. "Good. I don't want work getting in the way of lunch today. I do believe there is a crème brûlée with my name on it somewhere." She brought a hand to her chest and let out a small gasp. "Can you even imagine life without crème brûlée?"

Mallory knew her friend had fasted for Ramadan, so maybe that explained her appetite today. Although, Mallory wasn't sure she'd ever seen Soraya pass on dessert, and yet she was in great shape. Note to self—more exercise.

"It's my favorite dessert too." Mallory sighed as she ran her small towel across her face. "But I might as well slap it to my thighs."

"Life is too short, my friend." Soraya started toward the locker room. Mallory followed. "Which brings me to another point," Soraya said over her shoulder. "Why haven't you and Tate made plans to marry? You've been dating four years."

Mallory was still trying to catch her breath. "Tate wants to get married."

"And you don't?" Soraya raised an eyebrow again as she turned and waited for Mallory to catch up.

Mallory shrugged as Soraya opened the door to the dressing and shower room. "I can't imagine marrying anyone else. Tate is the only man I've ever loved. I mean, I dated guys in high school and college, but I never felt anything like this." She smiled. "Tate is amazing."

"Hmm ... I'm not sure you answered my question."

"Of course I want to marry him. Just not yet. There are things I want to check off my list first."

"Ismail tells me that you have signed up in the kidney exchange program. He also told me the reason you want to do this. A promise you made to your cousin." Soraya pulled a bag from her locker, then moved toward the shower. "So is this one of the things you are checking off your list?"

"Yes." Mallory looked at the time on her phone and knew she'd need to shower quickly and hurry back to the clinic. She'd sacrificed lunch to work out. "And I don't want anyone telling me I can't do it. I'm not saying that Tate could or would forbid me from doing it, but ..." She paused. "But he isn't happy about it."

"I understand that. He loves you, so naturally he is worried. He thinks of you as the mother of his future children, yes?"

"That's not in the cards, Soraya. I've known since I was fifteen that I can't have children. Tate knows, of course. It doesn't bother him."

Soraya stared at Mallory. "You've never mentioned that before. I'm sorry, Mallory."

"I've had a long time to get used to the idea."

Soraya shook her head. "We never know what Allah's plan for us is."

Mallory wasn't sure that God had a plan for her. If He did, He needed to go back to the drawing board and make some adjustments.

The doorbell rang just as Tate was scooping ET his usual ration of dog food. Crazy cat wouldn't eat anything else. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Verdell. Tate sent up a quick prayer for patience as he crossed the living room.

"Hello, Verdell." He forced a smile as the boy walked past him, knowing how Verdell would respond.

"Hello, Mr. Webber." Verdell shuffled to the piano, head hung low, as if he were walking a plank. He put his lesson book against the stand and sat down.

Verdell's blond hair was cut high above his ears with a noticeable cowlick that caused a few strands to spike on the top of his head. He was a skinny kid at that awkward age, teeth too big for his mouth. And for reasons Tate didn't understand, Verdell often stole weird things. Little things. Like Tate's toothbrush one week. And a week before that, a bottle of Visine. At first Tate thought he was imagining it, but they were items he would hardly misplace—and Verdell was the only one of his students who always asked to use the bathroom.

"Did you practice this week?" Tate sat down in his chair next to the piano bench. Verdell had a baby grand at his aunt's home too—a Steinway. Tate's dream piano. For a kid who hates to play.

"No, I didn't practice, Mr. Webber." Verdell sat taller, his chin in the air and his lips clamped tight.

Tate felt sorry for the child. Both his parents had been killed in a boating accident the previous year, and his aunt was raising him. Tate had told Chantal that she was wasting her money by sending her nephew for lessons, that Verdell had no interest in the piano despite the potential for being good at it. But Chantal begged Tate to keep trying.

Verdell settled his hands on the keys, looked at the music in front of him, then played every note and rhythm perfectly. Like a machine without an ounce of passion for the music.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from The Promise by Beth Wiseman. Copyright © 2014 Elizabeth Wiseman Mackey. Excerpted by permission of Thomas Nelson.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Edition details

• Publisher: Thomas Nelson
• Publication date: 2014
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 1401685951
• ISBN 13: 9781401685959
• Binding: Paperback
• Number of pages: 320