Rich in Faith (Richness in Faith, Book 3) Read Online Free Page A

have to blink a couple of times and tilt the photo toward the light. The woman is beautiful, and her smile is amazing. She’s a blonde version of Bristol and Darling.
    MaryLeigh Treyhune.
    Court’s haunting.
    Even though I’m looking at this picture in shadowed light, I can’t miss the fact that her face is surrounded by a mass of blonde hair. Full, thick hair like Bristol and Darling have.
    They are their mother’s daughters.
    “That’s MaryLeigh. I met her when I was twenty. We were married in less than two months. Love at first sight, everyone said. She died two years ago.”
    Okay, so my story seems childish and immature compared to his. Getting dumped for an heiress gal doesn’t rate anywhere near death on the scope of losing love.
    What do I say to this man? This handsome shell of a man who was once full of life, love and who knows what kind of dreams. Does he now simply exist day to day, minute to minute, with no faith that his life can be full again?
    Because Court is clearly just existing.
    How do I know?
    Because I’ve been just existing for the past week.
    I had no idea it could last so long.
     
     
    MY FEET POUND THE pavement as sweat runs down my face. Six o’clock in the morning usually doesn’t feel like this in Atlanta. Maybe I’ll try for five tomorrow morning.
    Everything feels so weird. I’m not used to running alone. Dale and I always ran together. We even had our numbers for the Peachtree Road Race this year. I wonder if he’s still going to run it.
    Tears mingle with the sweat, but I don’t care. I wonder how long it will be before everything doesn’t remind me of Dale and the life we shared.
    I thought this run would clear my head, not fuel the memories.
    Through tear-blurred vision I see I’m almost to the cul-de-sac. As I veer to the right of the gazebo that sits in the grassy area in the middle of the street, I spot a guy running down the driveway of the house next door.
    He looks up and nods, heading in the opposite direction. I start up Court’s driveway, slowing as I approach the house. I can’t wait to take a nice, cool shower.
    Wiping the sweat-tear mixture off my face, I push my visor and it falls to the ground. As I bend down to pick it up, I turn and see the guy from next door has stopped and is staring at me.
    He waves, then starts his run.
    I half-wave back, not that keen on showing a friendly gesture to someone I don’t even know. But if he lives in one of these million-dollar mansions, I guess he’s okay.
    I walk into the house, the cold air causing chill bumps the second I step through the door. Walking down the hall to the kitchen, I’m still breathing hard and know I need to cool down.
    “That doesn’t look like fun at all.”
    Court’s voice makes me jump. He’s standing in the kitchen, a cup in his hand. My shirt sticks to my body, I know my face is flushed, and my eyes are probably puffy from crying.
    Good thing Barb isn’t matchmaking.
    “Coffee?” he asks, raising his cup in the air.
    “Ooh, no. I’m going to shower.”
    He finishes his coffee and sets his cup in the sink. “I didn’t know you were a runner. I was about to leave. That wouldn’t have been good. Mrs. Stratton doesn’t arrive until seven.”
    I glance at my watch again. Six forty-five. “Do you always leave this early?”
    “I do. Actually I’m late. I usually leave at six-thirty. I try to beat my assistant, Susan, in. But if you want to run, I can adjust.”
    It’s a good thing I’m used to long hours. Sounds like his assistant works long hours as well. “It’s really muggy out there. I’m going to try for five tomorrow.”
    “All right. I’ll make sure you’re back before I leave.”
    I want to look away from him. I really do. Everything about him reminds me of the life I left behind. His light-blue button-up shirt tucked into gray slacks make me long for the office environment. I keep my eyes open, trying to imprint Court’s image in my brain in an attempt to erase