I smiled happily to myself as I sipped my tea. Gabe was late again. He made such an effort to be punctual for our dates, but the earliest he had ever managed was fifteen minutes late. It had gotten to the point where I would make the reservations whenever we went to a fancy restaurant, and would tell him to pick me up half an hour earlier than needed.

This was just a casual date, though, meeting at our old favorite coffee shop. We still tried to do that once every other week. Gabe had called me yesterday to ask if I was available.

I had a pretty good idea of why he wanted to meet me today. It had been six months since we had picked up the pieces of our friendship and began again. Gabe was a big one for celebrating every little event. Four months ago today he had asked me out on our first “real” date, and he’d tried to do something special every month on this date since.

Alex rolled his eyes and called Gabe a hopeless romantic, but I thought it was sweet.

It had been a wonderful six months, overall. Those first few weeks had been fraught with difficulty, trying to trust each other again, trying to forget how we’d hurt each other. Gabe finally had to force me to stop apologizing all the time … I just couldn’t stop feeling that I didn’t deserve his friendship.

Eventually, though, we were able to move on. I took Gabe and Sandra with me to Aunt Anne’s for Thanksgiving. She had asked Alex to come (he was living and coaching in her town now), and we had had a wonderful day, replacing old, painful memories with new joy.

Aunt Anne loved Gabe. She told me she thought Dad would approve, which was all I had needed to hear to make my joy complete. Gabe, of course, loved Aunt Anne in return, and Sandra was just about beside herself to see all of us back together.

Liv and I got together one day while I was at Aunt Anne’s. I told her everything, all the details, and she laughed and cried with me, and told me she was so thankful God brought us into each other’s lives, and so touched to think she helped me find God.

Aunt Anne came back with us and helped us find a church. I had been too nervous to start looking on my own. The one she found wasn’t quite as wonderful as hers—without an Auntie, how could it be?—but it was mercifully much better than the one Dad had attended.

I’d even joined a weekly Bible Study, and the leader pretended to cringe every time he saw me haul out my notebook of questions.

Gabe’s popularity in the skating world, to his surprise, was rising again. I could tell that he was skating better than ever, and I knew nothing about the sport. The joy he had found in Jesus Christ translated over into his skating, and people noticed. He was in high demand for shows and tours, but he always made sure he had time at home for both Sandra and me.

She didn’t know quite what to make of her brother’s new beliefs, but she was happy to see him so happy.

Alex was settled in Aunt Anne’s town, but still came back to the city once in a while to say hi and have lunch. He thought our Christianity was utter nonsense.

“You can’t tell me,” he protested, “that there is one way that works for everyone. Every person has to find his or her own path to happiness. If calling it ‘God’ and ‘Jesus Christ’ and believing some ancient book is what works for you, then that’s great. Just don’t expect me to buy into it, too. I think that whatever path you choose will get you to your version of ‘heaven’ in the end.”

He and Gabe argued constantly about it, but they always came away still friends. Gabe sometimes got frustrated by Alex’s refusal to accept anything he said, but then he would remind himself of how long he took to get to Christ.

“Maybe Alex is just too comfortable right now,” he said. “Maybe something will have to happen to bring him to the worst place possible before he’ll believe.”

I hoped not—I hoped Alex wouldn’t be as stubborn as Gabe and I were.

“At least he has Aunt Anne there,” I said. “If she can’t show him Christ’s love in an tangible way, nobody can.”

I checked my watch again. Gabe was very late today. I pulled out my wallet to buy myself a muffin while waiting, and smiled at the picture of Little John Tucker. Tuck and his wife sent me new pictures every month, and I had high hopes that Little John’s first words would be “Aunt Hermie.”

I was happy to be a part of their extended family, but part of me still wistfully hoped for my own family sometime.

It was in God’s hands, I reminded myself yet again. I was done trying to plan or run my own life. He was in control, and doing a much better job than I ever had.

Not that I had ever been in control at all. God had directed every step of my life, using every event, every decision, to lead me to him. All the time that I thought I was on my own, he was right there behind me, waiting patiently for me to come home, guiding my every step without me ever knowing it.

“Well hello there, beautiful.”

I looked up, and my smile turned to a beam. Alex called it fatuous and sickening. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show up.

Gabe grinned and kissed my cheek before sliding into the seat across from me. “And miss our four-month anniversary? Shan, you wound me.”

One of our discussions around the Thanksgiving table had been regarding my nicknames. Alex was fascinated that I had so many, and yet he and Gabe still called me Shannon. He begged for the privilege to call me Shanny, but I stayed firm in insisting that was for family only. Sandra was taken by Hermie, and insisted on calling me that ever since. Gabe decided he liked Liv’s name for me, Shan, and Alex was still trying to come up with a special nickname all his own. Last time we had talked, he was testing ‘Lady.’ I told him bluntly that one had to go. He asked how I felt about ‘Girlie.’ I think I hung up on him.

“I can’t have wounded you too deeply, or you wouldn’t still be smiling,” I said dryly.

He sighed contentedly. “The sun is shining, the snow is gleaming, I’m with the girl I love … why wouldn’t I smile?”

I studied him suspiciously. He was too nonchalant … he was up to something. “What’s going on?” I asked.

He widened his eyes. “What?”

“You’re acting weird.”

“Don’t I always?”

“Weirder than usual,” I corrected.

His grin deepened, his dimples popping into view. “I can’t imagine what you’re talking about.”

I let it go. When Gabe decided to be coy, there was no dealing with him. I would just have to wait until he was good and ready to tell me what he was up to.

“Have you finished your tea?” he asked now.

“Gabe, you just got here.”

“I know, but I want to go for a walk.”

I looked out the window. “It’s cold outside,” I whined in my best imitation of Sandra at her crankiest.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a scarf. “Maybe if you covered your neck once in a while, you wouldn’t get cold.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “You really came prepared, didn’t you?”

He grinned and stood up, holding his hand out to me. “Come on.”

I wrapped his scarf around my neck and slipped into my coat. Gabe barely gave me time to pull my gloves on before he dragged me out the door.

“Where are we going?”

He refused to answer, so I followed him meekly. We walked for half an hour. At first I thought maybe we were going to the park, but he bypassed that. He led me down so many side streets and around so many unexpected corners that I had no idea where we were until we reached the arena.

“What are we doing here?”

Still no answer. I shook my head. Whatever Gabe had planned, he was enjoying the mystery.

We went inside and straight to the back rink. As usual in winter, the main part of the arena was full of chattering skaters and coaches, and a few dedicated parents, but the back rink was empty.

“Nobody has any private lessons today?”

“I rented the rink,” he said, finally breaking his silence.

“Why?”

He sat me down on the benches near the boards, reached beneath them, and pulled out two pairs of skates. I recognized one as his own. The other—when he started to pull my boots off I knew they were for me.

“Oh Gabe,” I protested. “You’ve tried teaching me to skate before. It’s hopeless. Do we really have to do this again?”

He just looked up at me with that adorable, infuriating grin. “Just trust me, Shan.”

I let him get the skates on my feet, then watched him put his own on. His fingers were so swift and sure as he looped the laces around the hooks. Finally ready, he stood up and helped me to my feet. Clutching desperately at his hand, I wobbled after him.

“I’m going to fall,” I warned him as he placed my hands on the boards while he took off our coats and then led me onto the ice.

“I won’t let you,” he replied with complete assurance.

With his support, I made one circuit of the ice without falling, although my feet did keep wanting to slip out from underneath me.

“Okay,” I said breathlessly as we neared the entrance again. “This was fun. Can I go sit down and watch you skate now?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

He led me around once more, except this time, as we approached our starting position, he changed direction and brought me to center ice. Once there, he stopped (dragging me to a stop as well) and turned to face me, holding both my hands in his.

“Shannon,” he said, and now there was no trace of humor in his face. My heartbeat, already elevated from the unusual exercise, picked up a little more. “I love you. I love you more—more than I can ever express.”

He gazed around the rink. “When I first started skating, I wanted to get into pairs. I thought it would be so fun to be able to have a partner, do all the exciting tricks pairs can do. My coaches told me I was too small, and so I took up singles instead.”

He brought his eyes back to mine. “Well, you have become my partner. Not on the ice, but in everything. You are a gift from God, a blessing I never could have imagined. You complete me; you balance me out, just as I hope I do you. We belong together. I believe God made us for each other.

“I brought you here, today, because the ice is where I feel the most at home, the most myself, and it only seemed fitting that I ask the most important person in my life the most important question I’ll ever ask.”

He released my hands and pulled a ring out of his pocket. A single diamond winked at me under the spotlight I suddenly realized was shining on us instead of the usual overhead lights.

I caught my breath, and the only thing that kept the tears at bay was the knowledge that if I started crying, I would lose my balance and fall, which would certainly destroy the mood.

“Shannon Grayce,” Gabe asked, looking at me with love and hope. “Will you marry me?”

I waited until I had my breathing under control before I answered. “I ought to make you wait for my answer until I can take you fishing on a river, where I am the most at home,” I said. “But since ice is only frozen water, I suppose it will do.” Daring to move, I reached forward and took his hands in mine. “I love you, Gabriel Greye, and I will marry you.”

Smiling, yet with tears in his eyes, Gabe slid the ring onto my left hand. It was a perfect fit.

And then he cupped my face in his hands, and kissed me.