by Hope Ramsay
She pulled him into the little foyer. “Did you have fun?” She was whispering, so as not to wake up her grandmother.
“Yeah. I have great friends.” He paused. “Hey, can you drive us somewhere?”
“Do you mean can I take you home? Of course. Let me get my keys.”
“Not exactly home.” She scanned his face for clues, but he just smiled. He was a little buzzed, but it was wearing off.
“OK. Give me a sec.”
She ran upstairs and came back a minute later with her phone. Then she pulled on boots and a winter coat and followed him out the door.
A few minutes later they pulled up to his plot of land. There was enough snow to cover the grass, but not so much that the car had much difficulty climbing the long gravel drive. The snow crunched under the wheels as she passed over the tiny bridge and parked at the edge of the woods as Colton instructed.
He reached in his pocket and pulled out a wool scarf. “Give me your glasses and cover your eyes with this,” he said.
She eyeballed the scarf a little reluctantly. “You sure you’re sober enough to make sure I don’t fall in a ditch and break my leg?”
“Just put it on, Red.”
“All right. Here goes.” She handed him her glasses and wound the scarf around her head. He helped her out of the car and held her hand while they trudged through the snow. After a few minutes, he tugged on her arm to get her to stop walking and lifted the scarf from her head.
“Surprise,” he whispered, placing her glasses into her hand.
* * *
In front of her the old, dilapidated house slowly came into focus. But it had been transformed by hundreds of tiny white Christmas lights on every window, the door, and on the awful overgrown bushes. They were wrapped tightly around the trunks and branches of the trees too.
With the blanket of snow, bluish now in the moonlight, and the softly glowing lights, the house had been transformed into a fairy tale.
She had no words. Colton was watching her, smiling.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said. Before her, delicate lights sparkled and twinkled.
“I think it could be, one day,” he said.
“How did you…”
“Generator. Rafe helped me.”
“It’s spectacular.” The old house, its flaws subdued by the night and the glow of the lights, looked elegant and proud.
“Come on.” He pulled her by the arm, but she resisted.
He walked up to her. His breath was turning into white puffs of steam, and his eyes were watery from the cold, but they held something irresistible in them…more than amusement. A…gravity. Whatever it was he wanted to show her, it was important. “Stop thinking of Hoarders, OK? You’re going to have to trust me on this one.”
She nodded and let him lead her up to the front of the house. Digging into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a flashlight. “Here, you’ll need this.”
She flicked it on. There was a wooden ramp where the crumbling steps used to be. “You do know I hate spiderwebs? Like, they completely freak me out. And I saw this old abandoned house on HGTV that looked just the same—filled to the brim with newspapers, broken furniture, raccoon poop, mouse pee…”
He cut her off by pushing the door open, scooping her up, and carrying her though the doorway. She gave a little squeak at being swept off her feet.
“Welcome to the foyer,” he said, turning in a slow circle. Surprisingly the foyer was empty. And it smelled like sawdust, not mouse pee. “Here, flash that light over there.” He pointed above the door. A semicircle of leaded glass panes sat above the door. Similarly paned glass sidelights with the lead in a vine pattern ran the length of the door on either side.
“Ohhh, it’s beautiful,” she said, curling her hand around his warm neck. She was thrilled to be in his arms, thrilled to see him so excited. And thrilled to be swept up and carried over a threshold, which made her heart race crazily. What had he done?
“I knew you’d like that.” He set her down and took the flashlight, his fingers grazing hers. When her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she noticed the house was empty. No boxes, no papers, no broken furniture, no hoarder stuff. What in the world?
He took her hand and walked to one side of the big staircase. “This is the hallway—where our dogs will come falling over each other with excitement to greet us every day.”
“Have you been drinking? Oh yes, you have. Did you just say dogs—as in more than one?”
He shrugged. “I always wanted two. Champ could use a buddy. How many do you want?”
She laughed. “I guess two’s fine. But what about some kids running to greet us?”
“Oh well, they might do that too. Until they get older and leave it to the dogs.”
He pulled her through a doorway to the right. They stood in a big rectangular room with two white china cabinets built into the corners. The ceiling was rimmed by a wide and intricate crown molding. A wire dangling in the middle indicated the presence of a chandelier at one time. “This is the dining room, where we’ll have big family dinners on Sundays with your family. But Cookie and Hannah will probably be there too. And Rocket, who will hang out with Champ and our new puppy. And I know Cookie will love to hold our babies. She’ll tell us it’s to help us have time to grab a bite to eat, but in reality she won’t be able to get enough of holding them. And our kids will have a million birthdays and other celebrations here, and we’ll listen to them tell us how their day was every night over dinner.”
That’s what started the tears. That he’d cared enough to do all this, and say all the touching things he was saying. Colt stood there, stroking her hand, his low voice echoing a little in the empty rooms.
A smoky scent suddenly drifted through the chilly air. “Is everything all right?”
“That just means Rafe has done his job,” Colton said. Before she could ask what that meant, he pulled her along again. “C’mon.”
The next stop was an enormous formal living room with a big fireplace, where a hearty fire was blazing and crackling. Candles burned on the mantel and on the floor surrounding an air mattress heaped with blankets. Everything looked a little blurry because she was crying down the insides of her glasses. She rubbed them against her robe. “You had Rafe do all this?”
“I set it up earlier today, but his job was to come light the fire.”
“Wow,” she said.
“Don’t worry, he’s already planning payback. I think it involves taking his truck somewhere to pick up furniture or something.”
That sounded more like the Rafe she knew and loved. “Colton, I-I don’t even know what to say. Everything is…amazing.”
“There’s no family room—yet,” he said, pointing toward the back of the house. “That will have to be a future addition, but when we build it, it will be spectacular, with a view of the backyard. It overlooks the creek. Of course we’ll need a fence, to keep the dogs and kids out of there. Are you OK with fences?”
“Sure, I—”
He paced a little around the room. “This is the formal living room, except I don’t expect we’ll be all that formal.” He swept his arm around the room. “But for tonight, it’s the bedroom.”
Her legs just melted right there. The chill in the room was nothing against the warmth that suddenly spread through her entire body. Was this man real, or was she still asleep under the eaves at Nonna’s, dreaming of a man like this, a life like this?
Colton’s eyes were dancing, and she knew deep inside that she’d remember how he looked at this moment for the rest of her life—the firelight playing on his face, accentuating the dark, dangerous brows, the chiseled jawline, the full lips that quirked up in a tiny smile.
He led her closer to the fire and tugged her into his arms. Lowering his voice, he said, “Once we make love here, the house is ours, you know that, don’t you?”
Sara’s heart was pounding so furiously she thought surely Colton could hear it. She felt weak and dizzy and suddenly hot, but ov
erall so, so right. Her voice came out sounding strange and muted. “No refunds, huh?”
He laughed. “Actually, the Wrights told me I could have another day to try and convince you.”
“Colton, you had me at Hoarders.”
“So you like it? Enough to live in it?”
She was really crying now. He reached over and wiped her tears with his glove. “Hush now.” He cradled her face in his hands. “This was meant to be happy. And if you hate it, we’ll bulldoze it. Simple as that.”
She grabbed him by the arms, shaking him a little. “I am happy. Happier than I ever thought possible. And from what I can see, the house has beautiful bones. I can imagine us living here. But honestly, I’d live in a one-room shack with you if that’s where you wanted to live. I love you, Colton. So, so much.”
He drew her close and kissed her forehead. “I can’t wait to spend my life with you. Have babies with you. Share our days over dinner and go to bed holding you and wake up with you every morning.” He bent to kiss her but stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He grabbed a package off the built-in bookshelf next to the fireplace and handed it to her.
“Open it,” he said.
“Is it a wedding gift? Because I have yours back at Nonna’s.” She’d made him an album of photos of them taken over the past months. Even found an old one Tagg’s mother had taken of the two of them standing unhappily together during some awards ceremony for Tagg. It was a fitting reminder of how far they’d come.
“It’s just something little,” Colton said. “Go on.”
She tore into the package. It was a framed photo. One she’d never seen before. She and Colton were standing in front of the angels on the bridge. They both looked flushed and…happy. It was the one Mrs. Mulligan had taken when they were nineteen, on the day of Hannah’s dance recital. Right after he’d kissed her.
“How did you get this?”
“Mrs. Mulligan sent it to me. She swears the angels are never wrong.”
She was quiet. And swiping at her eyes again.
“We could’ve been together all these years.”
“The way I see it, you’re getting a much better version of me than the one from ten years ago. Maybe things happen as they do for a reason.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked tenderly into his eyes. “I’m so glad they happened, Colton.”
He wrapped his big arms around her, and she curled into his warmth. They stood like that for a minute.
“It’s warmer by the fire,” she said. “Plus there are blankets. I’d hate to waste that nice little bed you set up. I mean, since it would probably be a good idea to inaugurate our new home, don’t you think?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Then he kissed her. “I love you, Sara.”
“I love you, Colton. And I always will.”
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to Jill Marsal, my agent, who is always in my corner. Thanks also to Amy Pierpont, my editor, who worked tirelessly to help me to realize the vision of this story.
Many of us are walking the Alzheimer’s journey with a loved one. The way can be fraught with stress as families must navigate a complex medical care system and care options. This experience during the past decade with my mother-in-law has taught my own family kindness, patience, and love, and has brought us closer together, as I am certain she would have wished. A friend told me, when you have a loved one with Alzheimer’s, you lose them twice. I believe this to be absolutely true.
My husband is my rock, and he also has a wicked sense of humor. If Colton has any whopping good one-liners, you can thank him. Thanks also, sweetie, for sharing with me the ups and downs of Sara and Colton’s path to love. At one point I think he said, “I think I know their problems as well as you do,” and that is probably true.
Thanks to my older sister, who has given me many wonderful books through the years, the same ones on Sara’s mother’s shelf, in fact. She has also inscribed the front of each one with a beautiful message. I’ll keep all those books forever, Mar.
Writer sisters, you know who you are. We live far apart yet we are only an email or phone call away. Your friendship means everything to me.
Pride and Prejudice is one of my favorite books. The edition Sara is given as a gift with text on one side and notes on the other is actually not a fancy gilt edition. It’s called The Annotated Pride and Prejudice, edited by David M. Shapard, and is a must for any true Austen fan.
Lastly, thank you, dear readers, for sending me messages about things in the books that made you laugh or cry. These thrill me to the core. I’ve said before that writing can be a lonely job and getting to the end of a book is a struggle, but you make it all worthwhile. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
xo
Miranda
About the Author
Miranda Liasson loves to write stories about everyday people who find love despite themselves, because there’s nothing like a great love story. And if there are a few laughs along the way, even better! She’s a Romance Writers of America Golden Heart winner and an Amazon bestselling author whose heartwarming and humorous small–town romances have won accolades such as the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence and have been Harlequin Junkie and Night Owl Reviews Top Picks.
She lives in the Midwest with her husband and three kids in a charming old neighborhood that is the inspiration for many of the homes in her books.
Miranda loves to hear from readers! Find her at mirandaliasson.com, Facebook.com/MirandaLiassonAuthor, or on Twitter @mirandaliasson. For information about new releases and other news, feel free to sign up for her newsletter at http://www.mirandaliasson.com/#mailing-list.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Blurb
Dedication
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
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
Discover More
An excerpt from The Cottage on Rose Lane
Acknowledgments
Also by Hope Ramsay
Praise for Hope Ramsay
About the Author
Then There Was You
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
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