Falling for Her is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
A Ballantine Books eBook Original
Copyright © 2015 by Debbie Macomber
Excerpt from Silver Linings by Debbie Macomber copyright © 2015 by Debbie Macomber
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
BALLANTINE and the HOUSE colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book Silver Linings by Debbie Macomber. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.
eBook ISBN 9780804181211
Cover design: Belina Huey
Cover photograph: © Mirelle/Shutterstock
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Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Ballantine Books from Debbie Macomber
About the Author
Excerpt from Silver Linings
Chapter 1
I’m a simple guy with a complicated past. A few years back when it felt like my life was going to hell, Cedar Cove looked like a great town in which to crawl into a hole, so that was what I did. My skills were varied, but I had no intention of taking on a nine-to-five. I didn’t need the income a steady job would provide. I had money, but it didn’t buy happiness and it surely didn’t give me peace.
What I needed was a way to help me forget my past and the mistakes I’d made and the people I’d hurt. The only way I could think to do that was to take on the task of helping others, which is why I became a handyman and carpenter. I can take on the jobs I want and decline the ones I don’t want. My prices are reasonable and I’m good at what I do. I keep busy and under the radar. Most important of all, my head isn’t trapped in the past.
I’ve lived a fairly inconspicuous life these last several years until everything changed—or, as my mother would have said, went to hell in a handbasket. I never understood what that saying meant until I met Jo Marie Rose.
Jo Marie moved to town after her husband was killed in Afghanistan. She purchased an upscale bed-and-breakfast and renamed it the Rose Harbor Inn. Not long after she arrived someone gave her my name and she called me with the task of building a new sign for the B&B.
My first impression of Jo Marie was that the woman was a pest. I work on my own time frame and no one else’s. Coming out of the corporate world, Jo Marie wasn’t wired that way. If she hired me for a job she wanted it done yesterday. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve told her she should have taken her business elsewhere if she was in such an all-fired hurry. She didn’t. Instead she cajoled me along, bribing me with home-baked cookies and a smile that would melt concrete.
I carved that sign for her B&B. Jo Marie liked my work and I’ll admit I was proud of how it turned out. While it might have taken longer than she would have liked, in the end Jo Marie was pleased, too. Pleased enough to hire me for a long list of other projects, which included laying out a rose garden and building a large gazebo.
Because of the improvements she’d lined up for me I spent a lot of time with her. It didn’t take me long to see that this was developing into a problem: I enjoyed her company far too much. I became overly involved with what was going on in her world rather than keeping my distance. I needed a break to get my head squared away. I made up an excuse and told her I couldn’t work for her for a few days because I had other projects that needed my attention. And I did—well, sort of.
I’d started building a cradle. Only the good Lord knows why. The idea for it came to me in the middle of the night and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Before I knew what was happening I had the design all drawn out and the wood purchased. Every spare minute I had I worked on that cradle. The design was intricate, the headboard nothing less than a work of art, even if I do say so myself.
The question remains: What in the bloody hell am I going to do with a cradle? The carving on the headboard is an elaborate forest scene: An oak tree with thick limbs spread across the surface and forest creatures nestled in the branches. The first figure I did was an owl; later, squirrels had made a home and packed away nuts for the winter in a knothole. A rabbit rested by the trunk and bees buzzed from a cleverly hidden hive.
The morning after I started the project I felt free: no need to rush over to Jo Marie. For the first time in a long while my day and my time were my own. I needed this. The funny thing was I had to resist the urge—no, the need—to take a break and check on her. By now she’d have a cup of coffee ready for me, and she knew exactly how I liked it. The woman had a gift for baking some of the best cookies I’d ever tasted. I could easily down half a dozen before I started work, and she always had plenty on hand.
I’d caught on to her game long time. She used those cookies as an incentive, and it worked better than I cared to admit. As soon as I was up and dressed I’d head to her place. It’d gotten to be that my first cup of coffee was with Jo Marie, unless she was busy with her guests. It was a small price to pay to show up each morning around eight. Any later and Jo Marie buried those cookies in the freezer and I was out of luck. The woman was tricky!
Breathing in the fresh morning air with its briny scent, I headed for my workshop. I was in no mood for company. The truth was I wanted to shut out the world entirely. Jo Marie had me trained like some circus animal and I’d decided: no more. I was reclaiming control of my life. Because of her I’d turned down any number of other jobs, always giving her projects top priority.
As of today, I was changing course. I figured the only way to get her out of my head was to find excuses to stay away. Jo Marie took up far too much of my thoughts, and I was taking positive steps to make sure to put an end to that.
Involving my mind and my hands in woodwork helped to tame my ghosts. For an hour or two I was able to forget the friends I’d left behind and the sick feeling that gave me in the pit of my stomach.
This day was my own and I planned to take advantage of every minute. I carried my first cup of coffee into my workshop and locked the door. I didn’t want to be disturbed or interrupted.
Everything was coming along nicely when the table holding the cradle and power tools collapsed. With a sound loud enough to compete with a sonic boom, the table crashed down hard, trapping my legs beneath it. The pain was immediate and I gritted my teeth and sucked in a deep breath, fearing I was about to pass out. I think I might have for a few moments.
When the room stopped spinning I tried to lift the table, but it was a no-go. No way was I strong enough to raise it or to crawl out from beneath the heavy equipment. If I’d had my phone with me I could have called for help, but I didn’t. My cell was inside the house. I hadn’t wanted to be bothered and this was the price of my foolishness.
The pain was unrelenting and I could feel myself swaying between consciousness and unconsciousness. Because I’d purposely kept relationships at a minimum I could only speculate how long it would take before I was found.
Sometime within a hour after the accident I heard a scraping noise outside my door. It was low to the ground and must have been an animal, possibly a dog.
“Rover,” I heard Jo Marie call out. “Mark isn�
�t home. He’s working elsewhere today, remember?”
The scratching persisted, followed by a low howl. I should have known it was Rover, Jo Marie’s dog. He was a rescue animal she’d adopted that I insisted was a nuisance. Secretly I thought he had amazing skills. Earlier in the year Rover had turned up missing and I’d spent the better part of a day looking for the mutt. Jo Marie had been distraught. Trust me, I had better things to do than search for a missing dog. But I couldn’t bear to see her upset, and so, like some superhero, I’d stepped in to save the day. Well, maybe this was Rover’s way of paying me back for finding and returning him to Jo Marie.
I’d have given just about anything if it wasn’t her on the other side of the door. “Who’s there?” I called out, although I knew perfectly well exactly who it was.
“Mark?” She tried to open the door and found it locked. “Mark, are you in there?” When it didn’t open she pounded on the door. “Is anyone in there? Mark, are you all right?”
“Yes,” I called back, lying through my clenched teeth and rolling my eyes at God. Naturally, the person to show up was the one person on earth I had hoped to avoid. “Come in.”
She tried the door again. “It’s locked.”
Very little escaped that woman.
A stab of pain blindsided me, and when I called out my voice was weak with pain. “The key. Get the key. It’s in the kitchen drawer by the sink.”
“You can’t open it?” she asked.
The question irritated me to the point I was ready to snap her head off. Rather than say something I’d regret later, I simply said “No.”
“Okay. I’ll get it.”
I heard the panic in her voice and did my best to relax. It made me wonder if she would comment on why the workshop was locked and not the house. Thankfully, she didn’t waste the time.
It seemed like an eternity before I heard the sound of the key in the lock. Right away Rover burst into the workshop, barking erratically. I watched as Jo Marie followed him. She scanned the area, not seeing me. “Down here,” I said between gritted teeth.
“Mark, oh Mark.” Jo Marie fell to her knees next to me. Her expression was grave. “I’m calling nine-one-one.”
That was the last thing I wanted. “I’ll be okay. Just get this damned table off of me.”
She looked at me like I was insane. “I can’t lift that thing.”
She was right, but I hated to admit it.
Rather than argue, she reached for the cell in her hip pocket and dialed for help.
“Jo Marie, do you always have to do the exact opposite of what I say?” Although I should have known better than to ask.
As I expected, she ignored the question and spoke quietly into the phone. Holding it away from her mouth, she asked, “Is anything broken?”
I glared up at her. “Do I look like a friggin’ doctor?”
Her eyes widened. “There’s no need to snap at me. Does it feel like the leg’s broken?”
I did my best to control my mood and realized it was the pain talking. “I hate to think I was in all this pain for a scraped knee.” Closing my eyes, I turned my head away. The throbbing pain seemed to be getting worse. I could hear sirens in the distance and I grabbed hold of my upper thigh thinking if I compressed the flesh it would help relieve the agony.
“Help will be here soon,” Jo Marie whispered, and briefly placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Her simple touch went through me like a lightning bolt. I inhaled sharply and resisted the desire to place my hand on top of hers. I was grateful when she left me to walk over to the door and look out.
Rover, however, remained steadfastly at my side. I looked over at him and silently promised him a fat steak bone when I was through with this. I saw Jo Marie watching me, and for show I told the dog, “You’re nothing more than a worthless piece of…”
“Mark, don’t say that. Rover is the one who found you.” Then she came back from the door and fell to her knees at my side. “You okay?”
I nodded, although it was far from the truth.
Her hand was on my shoulder again. “I’m not leaving you.”
Rover lay next to me, his dark brown eyes regarding me steadily as I pet his head, silently giving him my appreciation.
Jo Marie smiled. “I bet you don’t think Rover’s so worthless now.”
The EMTs were close, the siren getting louder. “You should probably go,” I said. The aid crew would take over from here.
She blinked, as if my words had wounded her. She slowly rose from her knees.
“I…I told the aid car to come all the way to the back…I’ll show them the way.”
I nodded and closed my eyes, but it wasn’t helping block out the pain in my leg.
Again Rover refused to leave my side instead of following Jo Marie as he was accustomed to doing. I didn’t know what it was about this dog—it was almost as if he could read my mind. Good thing that wasn’t possible.
The sirens came to an abrupt stop. I faintly heard Jo Marie issue instructions. “This way,” she said.
In a matter of minutes two men from the local fire station rushed into the workshop. It took both of them to lift the table off my leg. I didn’t have to be a physician to see that it was broken.
“Thanks, guys, I’ll take it from here,” I said. I’d gotten a good dose of embarrassment already; I wasn’t eager for a second course.
“You need medical attention,” the older fireman argued.
“I know. I’ll get down to the emergency clinic and—” I stopped talking when I saw the gurney being rolled into the shop. Was there no end to the humiliation? “Listen, I’m in good shape now that that blasted table is off me.”
Jo Marie wrestled her way toward me. “Oh, give it up, Mark. Your. Leg. Is. Broken.”
I ignored her because, frankly, if I confronted her now, feeling the way I did, she’d never speak to me again, which in retrospect might not have been such a bad thing.
“Are you his wife?” one of the firemen asked.
I bit back a laugh.
“Just a friend,” Jo Marie answered.
“She’s a nuisance,” I insisted.
“Look, even if you did manage to make it to the emergency clinic on your own, they’d send you to the hospital. You’re going to need X-rays and there’s the possibility of specialized treatment. You’ll be saving yourself a headache and a whole lot of unnecessary pain if you let us take you now.”
The fire chief made sense, although I didn’t want to hear it. After a moment I nodded my acquiescence. To be sure, I wasn’t happy about any of this.
The same men who’d lifted the table off my legs got me onto the gurney. While they were wheeling me out I heard the fire chief talking to Jo Marie.
“It’s a good thing you happened along when you did,” he said.
“Yes, it is,” she agreed.
The ride to the hospital took no time. When I arrived everything sped up. I was examined by a doctor and predictably wheeled in for an X-ray. Shortly after that the doc returned with the results.
“You’re fortunate it was a clean break,” he said, showing me the bone on the computer monitor. He pointed to the split with the end of his pen. Even as a layperson I could see the fracture.
Although the hospital had given me something strong for the pain, I was still in a bitch of a mood. This leg was going to slow me down and, worse, keep me trapped inside the house. Spending all that time alone was sure to bring back memories I’d struggled hard to forget, memories I preferred to bury. I couldn’t turn back the clock. There were few do-overs in life.
A good hour later a nurse made small talk as she applied the cast on my leg. If I’d been in a better frame of mind I might have been entertained. Instead my thoughts turned toward my next big problem: How was I going to get back to Cedar Cove? I had crutches, but they were inside the house. A lot of good they’d do me there. The doctor had given me a prescription for pain meds and something else to ward off an infection. I’d need to fin
d a pharmacy that made deliveries, and I wondered if those even existed.
Once the nurse had finished with the cast she helped me into a wheelchair. The first order of business was to find a phone and call for a taxi. Getting into the house was going to be a real hassle, but I’d find a way to manage. Already my mind was working on how best to get up the few stairs.
The chatty nurse wheeled me out into the waiting area. I was about to ask if I could use a phone when I saw Jo Marie sitting in one of the chairs. I was stunned into speechlessness.
She’d come to the hospital?
She’d waited for me all this time?
Her smile was like sunshine as she stepped toward me. I could feel myself drawn toward her. It was almost as if I could rise up from this wheelchair and meet her halfway. With a determined effort I pulled myself back.
I couldn’t—I wouldn’t—let this beautiful woman mess with my head. Or my heart.
Chapter 2
Although I didn’t want to admit it, I was grateful Jo Marie had been thoughtful enough to come to the hospital. With the X-rays and the wait time it’d been the better part of four hours, which made me wonder how long she’d been hanging around.
The hospital volunteer wheeled me outside while Jo Marie went to get her car. My jaw was clenched as I sat under the ER’s portico. I was in pain despite the high dose of medication given to me earlier. It was as if the universe was doing its best to thwart me. The sole reason I hadn’t gone to work on the rose garden that day was so I could avoid Jo Marie. Yet here she was. I knew I should be grateful, and I was, but this wasn’t what I wanted.
Bottom line, I was angry, although my anger wasn’t directed at Jo Marie as much as it was at myself. I knew better than to put that kind of weight on a worktable. This accident had been due to my own carelessness. I accepted that, but still I blamed Jo Marie. My head was muddled with thoughts of her that had nothing to do with the meds the hospital had fed me. Despite my best efforts the whole time I’d been carving the cradle I’d been thinking about her.
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