A Mom for His Daughter

by Jean C. Gordon

Marc looked at his beautiful bride of a half hour and slid into the limousine next to her. “She’ll get over it, and also having to stay with them this coming week while we’re cruising the Caribbean.”

  “I suppose.” Fiona lifted her veil and moved it over her shoulder away from him before rearranging the lace-covered skirt of her gown. “We could have brought her. I read in the cruise line literature that the trip we booked has all kinds of activities for children. ‘You won’t even know they’re there,’ one of the brochures said.”

  “Not know she’s with us? This is Stella you’re talking about—our very own pipsqueak wedding planner.” Marc chuckled, releasing the last of his tension remaining from the whole crazy process leading up to their marriage ceremony at Hazardtown Community Church.

  He’d heard people say that their weddings were a blur, but for him, every moment from Fiona appearing at the back of the church on his father’s arm was etched in his mind. The ceremony hadn’t been perfect. One of the twin’s heels had caught in her gown, and she’d stumbled, but her sister caught her. They’d both held their heads high and continued as if nothing had happened. Then his sister Natalie had tied the wedding bands so securely to the pillow Luc carried that his best man, Paul, had had trouble untying the knot to hand him Fiona’s ring.

  “What’s that cat-who-caught-the-canary look on your face for?” Fiona asked.

  He nuzzled her cheek. “Are you my canary?”

  She playfully pushed his shoulder. “We’re in front of the church.”

  “Relax.” He stretched out his legs and squeezed her shoulder. “We’re married.”

  “And in a pretty hasty fashion, according to your grandmother’s friend.”

  “I’m proud of the way you handled that in the reception line.” Marc had been ready to leap to her defense when they overheard the woman’s comment, but he hadn’t needed to.

  Fiona shrugged. “She kind of made me feel like I fit in, like I’ve been accepted as one of the locals if I’m worth talking about.”

  Unbound love stirred in his heart. They’d both come so far in the past few months. She’d done so much for him, to complete him.

  “Besides, all I did was speak the truth. We love each other. Why wait?”

  “And it didn’t hurt that you have an in with the reception venue manager, so we didn’t have to wait months for an open Saturday.” He paused. “You don’t mind my partners using our reception being held at La Table Frais to advertise the restaurant’s banquet facilities?”

  She leaned her head on his shoulder. “No. You’ve been so steadfast at resisting their not-so-subtle hints about revving up your work schedule, maybe opening another restaurant in the Catskills, that I can give in on the advertising.”

  The limousine driver pulled onto the interstate and cranked up the speed. Marc slid open the window to the front seat. “Take your time,” he said.

  But all too soon, they were at La Table Frais.

  “About time you got here,” Paul greeted them at the door to the banquet room. He signaled the DJ.

  “And here they are, our bridal couple, Marc and Fiona Delacroix,” the DJ boomed into the microphone.

  “That’s my daddy and mommy!” Stella shouted.

  “She called me mommy,” Fiona whispered.

  Stella hopped off the chair next to his mother and raced over to them.

  Marc rested his hand on their daughter’s shoulder and studied the profile of the woman he loved with all his heart as she looked into the room at their friends and relatives.

  “I’m the most blessed person in the world right now,” she said.

  Fiona slid her fingers into his and squeezed his hand, the simple sign of affection making him go weak in the knees. He scanned the crowd gathered to help them celebrate their joy and love, ending with her.

  “You’ll have to settle for second-most blessed.”

  * * * * *

  Don’t miss these other books from

  Jean C. Gordon set in the town of Paradox Lake:

  WINNING THE TEACHER’S HEART

  HOLIDAY HOMECOMING

  THE BACHELOR’S SWEETHEART

  REUNITING HIS FAMILY

  All available now from Love Inspired!

  Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com

  Keep reading for an excerpt from HER HANDYMAN HERO by Lorraine Beatty.

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  Dear Reader,

  If A Mom for His Daughter is the first of my books that you’ve read, I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you so much for picking it up. I know you have many book options to choose from. If you’re one of my regular readers, welcome back to Paradox Lake. I’m sure you recognized some old faces, and I hope you liked meeting the new ones.

  As with Marc and Fiona, we’d all like our lives to go a certain way—our way. But often that isn’t the best way for us or for those we love. Convincing Fiona and Marc of this wasn’t an easy task for me. I hope I did it in a satisfying way for you as a reader.

  To keep in touch with me and my new releases, please sign up for my author newsletter at JeanCGordon.com or follow me on Amazon (http://amzn.to/2kVET0w). And feel free to email me at JeanCGordon@gmail.com or snail mail me at PO Box 113, Selkirk, NY 12158. You can also visit me at Facebook.com/JeanCGordon.author or Tweet me at @JeanCGordon.

  Blessings,

  Jean C. Gordon

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  Her Handyman Hero

  by Lorraine Beatty

  Chapter One

  The house looked like a riverboat that had been dropped into the middle of a lush green yard.

  Reid Blackthorn frowned, puzzling over what he was seeing. The old white Victorian was ringed on two levels with wraparound porches dripping with gingerbread and ornately turned posts and spindles. The stately tower perched on top of the roof resembled a steamboat wheelhouse. All it lacked was a large red paddle wheel to complete the picture. It wasn’t what he had expected to find when he came looking for the woman who had taken his niece.

  He rubbed his forehead and inhaled a calming breath. Legally, Victoria Montgomery was his niece’s guardian, but he was prepared to change that if possible. His last disastrous undercover assignment for the DEA had made him realize he wanted more than chasing drug dealers. He was empty and burned-out. All he wanted now was a quiet, peaceful existence. His first move had been tracking down his younger brother in hopes of making amends for not honoring their mother’s dying wish. Reid had promised to take care of Eddie, but instead Reid had followed his need for justice and never looked back.

  He’d found Ed
die in a hospital dying from years of drug abuse and alcoholism, and his only wish was to see his little daughter. Reid went in search of the mother and child only to find out Judy Stevens had died several months ago and given guardianship to a friend. The Montgomery woman. What had alarmed Reid was the neighbors’ comments. According to Mrs. Fisher, the guardian was flighty, irresponsible and incapable of taking care of a five-year-old child.

  Reid was the child’s only blood relative, and nothing would prevent him from making sure his niece met her father before he died. He glanced at the absurdly ornate home again, then at the small sign positioned to the right of the sidewalk. Camellia Tea Room—Closed. Whoever this flaky woman was, he would set her straight. His niece wasn’t going to be raised by some herbal-tea-drinking, small-town loon.

  A car whizzed by on the tree-lined street, breaking his concentration. Time to act. He strode along the narrow walkway and up the wide wooden steps leading to the expansive porch. The old planks complained at his weight. The early-October air was thick with the smell of fresh paint. He raised his hand to push the doorbell, but a flush of anxiety caused him to pause. Maybe this situation required a little more backup than his own determination. He was new at this praying business and had no idea what to say to the man upstairs. He closed his eyes and simply asked for help before pressing the doorbell.

  “Help!”

  The shout came from inside the old house. His instincts kicked in. He grasped the doorknob and pushed. “Is everything okay in there?”

  “No. I need help. I’m in the sunroom at the back.”

  Reid pushed through into the foyer, his gaze focused on the end of a wide hallway. He moved quickly past the graceful staircase, his boots thudding heavily on the wide-planked wood floors.

  “Back here.”

  The feminine voice drew him to a room off to the right. He stopped and looked in, his brows lifting slightly as he took in the situation. The lovely wide-eyed woman had painted herself into a corner. Literally. She’d failed to plan ahead and now found herself trapped in a corner, unable to escape without ruining the fresh paint.

  The woman brushed a loose strand of fawn-colored hair from her face. “You sure got here in a hurry. Floyd said he’d send you over, but I was afraid I’d be here until the floor dried. You’re Reid, right?”

  He hesitated before nodding. How did she know his name? No one knew him in this small Mississippi town.

  “Can you get me out of here? I have to pick up my little girl from school soon.”

  He nodded again. “But how?”

  “I don’t know, but I have to get out of here and pick up Lily.”

  The concern in her voice and the urgency in her deep blue eyes overshadowed his questions. He looked about, but didn’t see anything that might extricate her from her predicament. “Do you have any lumber around?”

  She squinted at him and screwed her mouth to one corner in a way that made him want to smile. “What?”

  He hastened to explain. “A piece of wood, a plank.”

  “Maybe out by the garage.”

  A quick trip out the back door revealed a small stack of lumber piled near the driveway. He hoisted a two-by-six and carried it back inside. Pulling up a kitchen chair, he then aimed the plank at the woman. She held up her hands.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting you out. Take the end of the board and place it at your feet.”

  She gave him a skeptical frown, then did as he instructed. When the board rested on the small patch of unpainted floor, Reid pulled the chair into place and rested the plank on the seat, creating a sloping bridge. After checking to make sure the board was secure, he moved to the edge of the door and grasped the frame, extending his hand toward the woman. “Walk slowly up the board. I’ll help you.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. It’s too narrow. I’ll fall off and ruin the paint.”

  “You’ll be fine. Go slowly and keep your balance. It’s only a few feet, then you can take my hand.” For a moment he thought she would refuse, but a glance at the clock spurred her on. She definitely seemed determined not to be late picking up her child.

  She placed a tentative step on the wood, then another. Her confidence grew as she moved. He stretched out his hand as far as he could. When she grasped his fingers he shifted his weight, holding firmly until she was near the end, then he slipped his hands around her waist and lifted her off the board. She wrapped her arms around his neck. She was small and soft and warm in his arms, and she smelled of paint and oranges.

  He looked into her eyes, the cobalt color capturing his full attention. He’d never seen that color before. Their gazes locked. The blue eyes bored into him, burning through his barriers as if she could look directly into his soul and see his deepest secrets. Fear jolted through his body. He set her down and stepped back, swallowing against the sudden tightness in his throat.

  When he dared a look at her again, her eyes were wide with surprise. Had she felt the odd connection, too? He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.

  “Thank you. You’re a real-life rescue hero. I can’t believe you got here so fast. I only called Floyd a few minutes before you showed up.”

  “Well, I was actually—”

  “I’m Tori Montgomery, by the way. I’ve got to rush off, but Floyd said you were looking for a job so I’m hoping you’ll be my new handyman. I’m afraid I’ve been driving poor Floyd crazy with all my small repairs. He’s completed the remodel I hired him to do, but there seem to be all kinds of little issues with an old house like this. I think I’ve worn out my welcome by calling him all the time. He suggested I hire a part-time handyman who can be available on short notice. He has too many big projects—paying projects—to keep running over here to fix my old house. I think it was his way of getting me off his back. Of course, I can’t afford to pay much. This old house has cost me more than I ever imagined. The opening is several weeks away, but there’s a long list of repairs that need to be done before then.”

  Reid tried to sort through the flood of information she’d given him. She thought her contractor had sent him to be her handyman. The idea took root before he realized it. If he wanted to get the true picture of Tori Montgomery, see if she was the flake he’d been told she was, which right now seemed likely, he’d learn far more from being undercover than telling her outright who he was and what he wanted. He could also get to know his niece. What harm could it do to go along with the error? He was handy, he could help around the old house and maybe find some ammunition to help him secure custody of his brother’s child if necessary.

  “What would you like me to do first?”

  She picked up her keys and faced him. “Oh, great. So you’ll help me out?”

  The hope in her eyes sent a twinge of remorse along his nerves. He was used to undercover positions, but this wasn’t a gang of thugs he was trying to infiltrate. This was a lovely young woman he was deceiving. “Sure.”

  She smiled and the cobalt eyes took on a new life, full of sparkle and joy. “Then you can start by replacing the old cabinet door pulls and handles with the new ones. They’re on the counter. I’ll be back soon.”

  She started past him, then stopped and looked into his eyes. The connection jolted him again. Odd.

  “Thanks for the rescue. There are drinks in the fridge if you want one.”

  Reid watched her walk away. The paint-stained cutoff jeans and the oversize shirt did nothing to detract from her feminine figure. The short ponytail bobbed as she moved like a friendly wave. Tori Montgomery wasn’t quite what he’d expected. But she was still a big question mark in the suitable-guardian category.

  * * *

  Tori Montgomery slid behind the wheel of her small sedan and inserted the key. It was a good thing Reid had shown up when he did, or she’d have been stuck in that corner for hours watching paint dry. How humiliating. She
could have called her friend Shelley and had her bring Lily home, but she liked picking up her little girl from school. It was one of the happiest parts of her day, seeing the big smile on the sweet face as she climbed into the car. Besides, she was determined to be the perfect mother, and a mother should pick up her child from school, not expect a friend to fill in for her.

  Her gaze drifted to the sunroom extending out from the back of the historic home. Reid wasn’t anything like she’d expected. Floyd had referred to him as a young man. But this guy looked to be midthirties. Then again, Floyd was in his sixties, so he’d likely consider anyone under forty young.

  There was something unsettling about her new handyman. He’d plucked her from the board as if she weighed nothing, making her aware of the strength in his arms and the broad, sturdy shoulders. He’d smelled so good she’d wanted to nuzzle closer to his neck and inhale the musky scent. He didn’t smell like any of the other workers who had filled her house these last few months. Instead of the laid-back, jovial attitude she’d come to expect, Reid was controlled, distant and observant.

  He didn’t look like them, either. His six-foot frame was sturdy and strong, and perfectly proportioned, like a model from an outdoor catalog. His black-coffee-colored hair had a mind of its own, waving over his ears and falling across his forehead.

  But it wasn’t his physical appeal that had rattled her. She’d looked into his eyes and been drawn in, looking beyond the rich brown color with the thick lashes to the darkness beyond. He was a man with secrets and deep pain, but he was also searching. She’d felt a quiver of connection in that moment he’d held her. An odd recognition. Something in common. But before she could explore it, he’d set her down and stepped away. The dark eyes shielded anything he was feeling, leaving her with a need to know what he was hiding. He’d assumed an air of control and command that sent a twinge of concern along her nerves.

  Now she was being ridiculous.

  Jerking her thoughts back into focus, she started the engine and pulled out of the drive. What did it matter how the man looked or if he had secrets? She needed a handyman to stay on top of all the glitches that popped up in her 150-year-old home, and as long as he could do that she was satisfied.