Their Mountain Reunion (The Second Chance Club Book 1)
Page 1
A new start...
With an old flame?
Fifteen years in an unhappy marriage showed Melanie Isaacs exactly what she didn’t want. Now she’s in Mountain Springs to figure out the rest of her life—even if it means facing her former sweetheart, Logan McTavish. The spark between Logan and Melanie is stronger than ever. But is it enough to heal two weary, damaged hearts...and show them the way to a new happiness?
“You’re different...
“I know you say that things don’t change, but you certainly have,” Melanie said with a smile.
“Yeah?” A smile turned up one side of Logan’s lips. “How so?”
“You’re so mannerly. You’re downright civilized,” she said with a low laugh. “I’ve heard marriage will do that to a guy when he isn’t looking.”
Logan lifted his wineglass. “To being house-trained.”
“To being house-trained.” She laughed and lifted her glass in response.
Twenty-three years had changed more than Logan thought. In both of them.
Because she wasn’t the same girl she’d been all those years ago, either. Marriage might have civilized Logan, but it had opened Melanie’s eyes to just how vulnerable a woman’s heart could be. She’d lost more than a husband in her divorce.
She’d lost her family...and her ability to blithely trust a man to do right by her just because it was the right thing to do.
Dear Reader,
So many books are focused on young love, and while that stage of life is certainly exciting, there are other stages that are equally exciting, dramatic and deeply romantic. For this miniseries, I wanted to write books about women who had depth and experience and men who were old enough to know what they wanted...and exactly how to get it.
I remember my twenties like they were yesterday, but I’m a different woman in my forties. I’m not so easy to fool, and I know what I have to offer. It’s a whole different playing field now!
So I hope you’ll enjoy the women who dine with the Second Chance Club. Meet us at the lodge with that gorgeous lake view, and we’ll settle in for an evening of good food, laughter, encouragement and a hearty reminder that life is just as magical now as it ever was before.
Lift your glasses. Here’s to one more chance at happiness.
Patricia Johns
Their Mountain Reunion
Patricia Johns
Patricia Johns writes from Alberta, Canada. She has her Hon. BA in English literature and currently writes for Harlequin’s Heartwarming and Love Inspired lines. You can find her at patriciajohnsromance.com.
Books by Patricia Johns
Harlequin Heartwarming
Home to Eagle’s Rest
Her Lawman Protector
Falling for the Cowboy Dad
The Lawman’s Baby
A Baxter’s Redemption
The Runaway Bride
A Boy’s Christmas Wish
Love Inspired
Montana Twins
Her Cowboy’s Twin Blessings
Her Twins’ Cowboy Dad
A Rancher to Remember
Comfort Creek Lawmen
Deputy Daddy
The Lawman’s Runaway Bride
The Deputy’s Unexpected Family
His Unexpected Family
The Rancher’s City Girl
A Firefighter’s Promise
The Lawman’s Surprise Family
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
To my husband, who I love more every day. You’re the best choice I ever made!
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
EPILOGUE
EXCERPT FROM HIS BROTHER’S BRIDE BY AMY VASTINE
CHAPTER ONE
“COME FOR DINNER,” Angelina had said. “We do this once a month, and it’s a select group. So...invitation only, if you understand. You’ll love these women. They’re interesting and strong and resilient. Come once, and see what you think—and dress for it.”
Dress for it. Melanie Isaacs had been tempted to feel offended at those words, but she was too tired these days to bother. She’d attended countless events and charity dinners during her marriage, so it wasn’t like she didn’t have the wardrobe to cover a simple dinner.
Angelina Cunningham was an old friend. They’d gone in different directions after high school and lost touch until Melanie got a friend request on Facebook and they politely started updating each other on their lives. Melanie’s divorce was much fresher than Angelina’s. Melanie and Angelina had both gotten Mountain Springs property out of their divorces, but Angelina’s was far more spectacular. Angelina was the sole proprietor of Mountain Springs Lodge, which dominated one side of the glacier-fed Blue Lake up in the Colorado Rockies. On the other side of the turquoise lake, hunched next to a rickety wharf, was the lake house Adam had magnanimously given Melanie in the divorce because he felt she “deserved it.” It was meant to assuage his guilt.
Now, Melanie smoothed on some plum lipstick and dropped the tube into her purse. Her little black dress—a satin knee-length number—still fit like a glove, scooping down to reveal just a hint of cleavage. This was dressier than she wanted to feel tonight. She didn’t want to stand out. It still felt weird not to be Adam’s wife and the busy stepmom to his kids. She’d grown used to sensible clothing that said married instead of available. This postdivorce transition was exhausting, and all she wanted was to curl up in the overstuffed chair by the window overlooking the lake with a glass of wine and her journal. But she’d already agreed to this dinner, and Angelina had seemed so excited about it. Melanie would go, make nice and leave early. A cozy evening could still be hers.
Besides, she’d gotten an email from an old boyfriend recently, wanting to come see the lake house—something about tracking down his father, who used to own it. She should have known that would come back to complicate her life sooner or later... Maybe she was naive to assume that Logan McTavish would melt into the background of her life and stay there. So getting out for at least part of the evening couldn’t hurt.
Mountain Springs Lodge was nestled behind a rocky outcropping for privacy. The large log cabin–styled lodge sported wide windows that sparkled with the light of the sinking sun as Melanie drove up. Gable windows peered from the tall peaked roof, and she paused to admire the building before she parked.
Angelina had spruced the place up since Melanie had been here last. Inside, sparkling bevel-edged mirrors were hung on the glossy wooden walls, catching the warm light and scattering it in every direction. Angelina had decorated with higher-end furniture, defying the rustic surroundings with elegant hall tables and crystal vases overflowing with fresh lilac bouquets.
There was a broad staircase leading up to what Melanie assumed were the suites. Melanie ambled past the reception desk and peeked into a sitting room with leather couches and a wide stone fireplace that had no fire in
it on this hot night. The view of the lake out the floor-to-ceiling windows was stunning.
“You landed on your feet, Ange,” she muttered to herself. As a decorator, herself, she had to admire what Angelina had done to the place. The last time Melanie was here for a graduation dinner, it was a seventies-themed hunting lodge.
To the right, dark wood French doors opened as Angelina strode through, smiling. Angelina was dressed in a chic wine-colored dress that clung to her to curvy figure. Her blond hair fell in glossy waves over her shoulders. Her makeup was impeccable, and the minute Angelina entered the room, the girl at the desk dropped her book and looked alert. It was clear that Angelina was the boss around here.
“Melanie!”
Melanie couldn’t help but laugh as Angelina wrapped her in a perfume-scented hug, then released her. Angelina nodded toward the French doors. “The ladies are waiting.”
Melanie put a hand on Angelina’s arm. “Which ladies, exactly?”
“The Second Chance Dining Club.”
Melanie blinked. “The what now?”
“We keep our little group quiet, but when we find someone who we think will benefit from what we offer, we invite her to dinner.”
“What do you offer?” Melanie asked, hesitating. If this was going to be some sort of sales pitch, she was leaving now.
“A shoulder to cry on. Some sympathy. Some hard-won wisdom. We’re a group of women who understand,” Angelina said. “We’ve all been married before and we know how hard it is to put your life back together after a divorce.”
“Oh...” Melanie breathed. So much for distraction from her own heartbreak. “Look, if this is a multilevel marketing thing—”
“Hardly!” Angelina laughed. “This isn’t business, Melanie. This is personal. No one is selling anything. And I invited you because... I care.”
Melanie looked past Angelina’s shoulder, but couldn’t make out much.
“You look amazing, by the way,” Angelina said. “It’s just dinner. On me. Be my guest.”
“Thank you.” Did Melanie want to do this? A bit of moral support might be nice, but she probably didn’t know these women, and while a divorce was soul-crushing, it was also incredibly private. Or at least a woman tried to keep it that way with all the nosiness. But she was here, dressed to impress and already at the resort, so she might as well follow.
Angelina led the way into the dining room. There were guests at tables throughout the room. The murmur of conversation, the tinkle of cutlery and the laughter of a family group mingled together in a pleasant ambience. Over by a window overlooking the water was a table of women, all of whom had looked up when Angelina and Melanie walked in.
Angelina beelined over to that table, and she gestured to a free chair right beside the window. It was the best view—and also the hardest escape. Was that the plan?
Melanie took her seat and looked around the table, feeling suddenly shy.
“Hello,” she said.
“This is Melanie Banks,” Angelina said, taking the seat next to Melanie. “At this table, we go by our maiden names. It’s just our thing. It reminds us of who we were before the wedding. It helps.”
Yes...before the wedding. Except Melanie didn’t want to go back to those inexperienced days. Was she the only one?
“Let’s do a few introductions,” Angelina said. “This is Gayle Steel—” She gestured to the older woman with her hair twisted up in a smooth silvery updo. Melanie thought it was prematurely white. “She’s retired, but she used to run the Mountain Springs Bank. She has five grown children and...how many grandkids now, Gayle?”
“Eleven,” Gayle said.
“Her husband left her after thirty-five years of marriage,” Angelina added.
“For his golfing buddy,” Gayle said with a small smile.
“Oh, wow...” Melanie murmured, trying to cover her surprise.
“It was ten years ago. Yes, I should have noticed he was gay, but somehow didn’t. I’m over it. Mostly,” Gayle said with low laugh. “This group of ladies is a great help.”
Yes, well, Melanie had a few things she should have noticed, too—namely a rather serious affair that had been going on for about two years before she found the incriminating text messages. So, who was she to judge?
“And this is Renata Spivovitch, and she’s an activities director and nurse for the Spruce Ridge Retirement Home, and she has three kids, all in school now,” Angelina went on, gesturing to the woman with short cropped brown hair, a round figure and an interesting face. She looked to be about Melanie’s age and met her inquiring gaze with an easy smile.
“I was the one who left my husband,” Renata said. “He wanted to move his mistress into our family home with me and the kids, and figured we should all live together quite comfortably.”
Melanie stared at her in shock. “He...he actually tried to do that?”
Renata shrugged in reply.
“That was...a year ago now?” Angelina asked.
“About that,” Renata confirmed. “I’m less over it than Gayle is.”
Gayle chuckled, and the women exchanged a smile.
Angelina gestured to the stunningly beautiful woman with rare looks and a frank expression on her face. She couldn’t be more than thirty. “And this here is Belle Villeneuve. She’s was a model for about ten years, and married her talent agent.”
A model. Yes, that explained those perfectly aligned looks, but there was something open and friendly about her, too. Melanie couldn’t help but like her.
“He dumped me when I quit modeling and put on some healthy weight,” Belle said. “He called me obese and replaced me with an eighteen-year-old.”
“I’m so sorry—” Melanie said.
“Oh, it was good riddance. I was a wreck when I was with him, and as it turned out, I had the better lawyer.”
“A much better lawyer,” Angelina said with a small smile. “Their divorce was finalized last year, and she made out with a full half of his business.”
The women around the table chuckled. It seemed that Belle had bounced back rather well, and the women here enjoyed little details like that.
“And that brings us to you,” Angelina said. “Did you want to introduce yourself?”
“I’m Melanie,” she said. “I’m newly divorced, and I’m in town for a few weeks. Angelina asked me to come to dinner tonight, so... Hi, everyone.”
“Do you mind if I fill them in on a few details?” Angelina asked.
“Uh...sure.” She’d told Angelina the broad strokes when they chatted earlier. Though she hadn’t really wanted to blab to everyone at large, there was something about the energy around this table that made sharing seem natural.
“I know a little bit about her situation,” Angelina said. “Correct me if I get it wrong, Melanie. But she married her husband quite young—midtwenties?”
“I was twenty-four,” Melanie confirmed. “We were married for fifteen years.”
“He had children from his first marriage whom Melanie selflessly raised, until one day he traded her in for a younger model.”
That summed it up rather succinctly. Except, Melanie had been the one to ask for the divorce. There was no trusting him again after that—the betrayal was too deep.
“Is the divorce final?” Renata asked.
“Yes. As of two months ago,” Melanie confirmed.
“And did you...do all right?” Belle asked hesitantly.
“I got the lake house and some cash,” Melanie replied. “There will be spousal support for three years. I wanted to start an interior design company, but I’ll need to take a few classes online to get myself current again. So the money will help in the transition.”
“Good, good.” This from Gayle. “So, you don’t have to panic about making enough to pay your bills.”
“Not immediately,” M
elanie said with a wan smile. That was something. Maybe she should be grateful that she hadn’t been left in a worse position.
“Property on Blue Lake is worth a small fortune. That was smart to ask for it,” Renata said.
“I didn’t ask,” Melanie said. “I haven’t decided how nice he was being to hand it over, actually. We bought it when the kids were school-aged. I told him about my hometown and how gorgeous our lake was, and he found it all very quaint and inspiring. So, he surprised me with the deed one summer, and he sent me and the kids off to the lake.”
“While he...worked?” Belle asked, raising a delicate eyebrow.
“Presumably,” Melanie replied with a faint shrug. “I found out later that he was cheating on me for much of our marriage. The irony is, his kids hated coming here. They didn’t want to be cooped up in some lake house or wandering around a little town where they didn’t know anyone. Besides, they didn’t like me. I wasn’t their mother. I was just some substitute their father foisted upon them.”
“So you don’t have fond memories there,” Angelina said softly.
“Not exactly.” Melanie shrugged. “It’s okay. It’s a beautiful property and I’ll make it my own. Or sell it. I haven’t decided which yet.”
“What happened to their mother?” Renata asked.
“She died rather tragically from cancer. When I married Adam, he had three grieving kids, the youngest of which was a toddler, and I decided to devote myself to them. They needed love, and I thought I could make a difference with them.”
“So you didn’t have any kids of your own?” Belle asked.
“No. Three were enough to keep me busy.” Melanie wasn’t sure if she regretted that now. A baby wouldn’t have saved their marriage, but it might have been nice to have one child who didn’t resent her for not being mom enough.
A waiter came by with a bottle of wine for the table. The other women seemed to know the menu by heart and gave their orders immediately. Melanie took a moment, then ordered the mountain trout with herbed potatoes. When the waiter left again, Melanie looked at the women around the table.