Dreaming of His Kiss

World-renowned cardiologist Race Stiner did the unthinkable – he quit.

What else is a man supposed to do when God clearly shows him his life's calling is no longer healing physical hearts, but spiritual?

It would have been easy to tell God no, and to ignore the call back to a tiny town in the Ozarks to begin a ministry in a small church that was about to close its doors. But at fifty-three, Race walked away from his prestigious and successful career and agreed to follow the Lord – under one condition. He told God He wanted a wife to labor alongside of him.

Penny Liston had spent more than two and a half decades delivering other ladies' babies. Despite the fervent desire of her heart, two failed marriages, and years of infertility treatments, she'd never had any of her own.

Slowing down and moving to the small town in the Ozarks might have been the best decision of her life. Answering the ad in the paper for a female companion to help start a church, the only requirement being that she was good with children, might have been the craziest.

Chapter 1

“I increased the Pitocin, so hopefully that will give
Shelley the kick she needs to get her labor going again. It had stalled out.
She’s been five centimeters for three hours.”

Penny Liston finished tapping on the iPad and dropped it in
the holder. She lifted a brow at Lacey, one of the nurses on duty in the
maternity ward at the small hospital in Mistletoe, Arkansas.

Penny had only been working at the hospital for a couple of
years, but in a small town like this, it didn’t take long to get to know
everyone and to feel comfortable.

Unlike the major hospital in Dallas where she’d come from. There’d
been no such thing as a relaxed atmosphere and casual friendships. Everything
was on, all the time.

Mistletoe, nestled comfortably in the Arkansas Ozarks, was
about as far from Dallas, in character if not miles, as one could get.

A man’s face flashed through her mind before she
deliberately pushed it aside. She supposed one never truly forgot their first
love. She’d left him—a successful surgeon—although she’d continued to try to
live the big hospital rat race and had succeeded for over a decade.

She couldn’t take it anymore, though. Mistletoe was exactly
what she needed.

“It’d be nice if she had it before my shift was over. I’d
love to have a new baby before I go home.” Lacey loved what she did; she’d been
doing it for almost forty years. “Seeing a new life come into the world never
gets old.”

Penny didn’t doubt, from the look on her face, that she
meant it, and she had to agree. Being a midwife was as rewarding as anything could
possibly be.

Except perhaps being a mother to her own children.

God had never given her that particular pleasure despite two
failed marriages and years of fertility treatments.

Penny nodded. “I wouldn’t mind if it came by then either,
since that will mean I’ll be able to go home and have supper at my house.”

“Aren’t you going to go apply for that volunteer job you
were talking about?” Lacey asked, settling behind the counter and adjusting the
monitor so she could read the numbers. Shelley was the only patient they had on
the floor today. There wasn’t much to keep track of.

Unlike in Dallas, where monitors beeped constantly and there
was almost always an emergency to attend to.

“I really want to. But I’ve kinda been leaning toward not.”
Penny checked to make sure the hall was deserted before she walked around the
counter and sat down beside Lacey, also at an angle where she could watch the
numbers.

The Pitocin should kick up the length of the contractions
and the intensity, as well as frequency. Soon. She didn’t want to be caught
sleeping and have the baby come without being prepared. It was a first baby, so
odds were good there would be some long hours of pushing ahead of them.

One never knew, though, which was one of the things that
kept a midwife on her toes. Every woman was different. Every baby had a
different way of coming. It certainly wasn’t boring.

“But you love working with kids. And you said you were
looking for an area in which to volunteer.”

“I know.” She just wasn’t sure she was ready for the
responsibility and commitment. It had taken her this long to recover from the
stress and burnout of the big city hospital. Mistletoe was an amazing town, and
it had soothed her soul and healed her heart. As much as her heart could be
healed. The scars would always be there.

A shrill beeping interrupted her before she could continue,
and she watched the monitor for a minute before clicking on the keyboard to
shut the beeping off. False alarm.

She considered the monitor without really seeing it. “The
new pastor that’s coming in is in his fifties. I guess I just wonder what in the
world someone that old would be coming to Mistletoe for. I thought I’d be
working with a young, exciting, vibrant preacher who was eager to start a
church. Not someone who’s as disillusioned as I am and only looking for a quiet
place to read and study.” She hadn’t quite hit the half-century milestone and
didn’t hold his age against the new preacher; she just felt it was a little old
to have the energy and drive she wanted to be associated with.

“I don’t think he would have put out an ad for someone to help
him if he was thinking he was only going to read and study, right?” Lacey
adjusted the spare thermometer on the shelf in front of her.

“Yeah. I suppose you’re right.” The ad had specifically asked
for someone who loved children. She assumed that whoever it was, and the town
gossips were good, but they weren’t good enough to get his name, was looking
for someone to help him with the Sunday school and possibly junior church or
some kind of Wednesday night club for the kids.

There hadn’t been details on the paper she’d seen hanging on
the bulletin board in the small grocery store. Just an announcement that he was
taking over the church—which she knew to have less than ten members—and was
looking for a helper. Interested applicants were supposed to find him at the
church before five on weekdays.

When the position was filled, the ad would be taken down.

“I suppose if Shelley has her baby before five, I might walk
over and see. Otherwise, I’ll just assume it wasn’t a job that was meant for
me.”

~~~

“I know I’ve already used two of my chances, Lord. But I’d
like a third one. Please.”

Race Steiner knelt at the front of the little church, his arms
on the pew, his forehead in his hands. He’d spent a lot of time in that
position since he’d arrived in Mistletoe a week before.

Eight days prior, he’d performed his last open-heart surgery
on a six-hour-old baby, closing a hole in the heart and replacing a malfunctioning
tricuspid valve. A complicated surgery, but one that he’d done many times
before. It wasn’t old hat, open-heart surgeries never were, but it hadn’t been
anything out of the ordinary.

Then he’d hung up his scalpel, got in his car, and left Chicago,
driving to Mistletoe, Arkansas, where he believed the Lord was calling him.

This church building and a small farm outside of Mistletoe were
his new home.

He had colleagues who couldn’t believe what he’d done—a
world-renowned heart surgeon didn’t just up and quit at the prime of his
career. He was only fifty-two. He had a lot of years of surgery ahead of him,
but he couldn’t keep doing it. Not when God had clearly shown him that healing
physical hearts wasn’t his job anymore.

God wanted him working on spiritual hearts.

And God didn’t want him working on spiritual hearts on some
great big world-renowned stage. God had him here in this little town in the
Ozarks.

There was a time in his life where Race would have totally
ignored God and questioned his motives on top of it. Not now.

“But I’d really like to have someone work with me, Lord.
Please. A partner and helpmeet.” He had no right to ask.

He’d already had two. The second woman had cheated on him,
left him, and divorced him. That had been the start of him searching for
something more in life and what had led him to follow the Lord’s leading here.

The first one had been the love of his life. Unfortunately,
he’d been young and thought his career needed all his time and attention. He’d
not treated her right. Becoming a heart surgeon was time-consuming and arduous,
and he’d thrown everything he had into it. It hadn’t been fair of him to get
married in the first place, even if she’d been the perfect woman for him. He’d
neglected her, taken advantage of her, and put her at the bottom of every list
he had.

He couldn’t blame her when she said she couldn’t take it
anymore and walked out.

So yeah, he was asking God for an awful lot.

God had already given him a great love, and he’d managed to
neglect her to the point where she couldn’t take it—making her feel unloved
because he put everyone else first. Good things. No Boarders Doctors was a
great organization. He performed lifesaving surgeries. He had been needed and
been doing a good work. But in doing so, he’d shoved everything his wife wanted
aside and basically by his actions had told her that she wasn’t as important as
the good deeds he was busy doing.

She would’ve forgiven him once or twice or even three times.

Maybe pushing her aside once or twice would’ve been
excusable. But he’d been so blind, thinking he was such a do-gooder because of
all the charity work he was doing, he hadn’t realized that his charity work had
been done on the shoulders of the woman he loved.

He hadn’t realized that until years later. At the time, he’d
thought she’d been selfish to walk out.

“I’ll put my heart and soul into building this church, Lord.
But I’m asking, begging, for a woman to stand beside me and help me while I do
it. One that I can love and who will love me like my first wife.”

That had been his prayer, not his only one but a big one,
for the last six months as he had orchestrated his transition, shifting his
patients to his replacement and winding down his surgery schedule.

Of course, he prayed for the people in Mistletoe, the
surrounding areas, and that he’d be able to help them spiritually.

But it all came back to this: he didn’t want to do it by
himself.

“I’ve given up everything. Which I know isn’t anything in
light of eternity, and I know it will be worth it. But if it would be your
will, I would really appreciate you sending me a woman to be my helper and
soulmate.”

His first wife had been the closest thing to a soulmate he’d
ever had. Maybe if he hadn’t been so young and stupid. Blind. Focused on doing
good for everybody else. At the time, he hadn’t realized or even understood
exactly why she was leaving him. With the clarity of hindsight, he got that he
put everyone else first and, in doing so, made her feel like last. When she’d
been anything but.

The door to the church creaked open, and he lifted his head.
For a moment, the sunshine shone behind the person walking in, and all he could
see was that she appeared to have the figure of a woman and longish hair.

He said a quick amen and pushed to his feet. His legs were
asleep, and he couldn’t feel his toes. He stood still, giving the blood a
chance to circulate and return to his limbs.

In surgery, he tried to move, even if just to shift from one
foot to the other, to keep the blood flowing, because it was all too easy to
just stay in one spot and concentrate even for an hour without moving. He’d get
lost in the intricacies and awe-inspiring magnitude of being inside another
human’s body—never something he took lightly. Not like some other surgeons he’d
worked with. Although he’d worked with really good people as well.

The church was dim, because he hadn’t turned any lights on,
and it was evening in December. The days were short. The person walking toward
him was blurred at first.

Definitely a woman though.

Is she the answer to my prayer?

He’d been hoping that the woman who answered the ad asking
for someone who loved children and was willing to help with them and other
things around the church and ministry would also be the one the Lord had for
him. Hoping and praying.

It just seemed like such a big job to do by himself. In
surgery, he was never alone. Yeah, he was the point man, and he was used to
that and comfortable with it, but he also always had a team.

He could do this, this church building and ministry and
whatever else God had for him, whatever other doors opened, but he wanted to be
a team. Even if it was only a team of two.

“Hello? Can I help you?”

The person seemed to stumble. Then they stopped.

His legs were still tingling, but he at least could feel the
whole way down to his toes, so he stepped around the pew and started down the
aisle, intending to meet the person halfway. But their next words stopped him.

“Race?” The voice was husky and familiar. “Is that you?”

He could name every nerve in his body, and every single one
of them hummed with shock waves of electricity burning up through his back and
sides and out his arms. His brain lit up, and he’d obviously forgotten to
breathe because the church tilted and swayed. His heart kicked back in, and his
lungs started working overtime to make up for what they’d missed.

He reached out to steady himself on a pew.

“Penny?”