More Than Words: Acts of Kindness: Whispers of the HeartIt's Not About the DressThe Princess Shoes
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Harlequin More Than Words:
Acts of Kindness
Three bestselling authors
Three real-life heroines
Every day, women in your community are working to make the world a better place. You may not know their names, but you’ve probably got something in common with these real-life heroines: compassion for those who need a helping hand, and the desire to make a difference. Each year, the Harlequin More Than Words award is given to three women who strive to change people’s lives for the better. Inspired by their accomplishments, three bestselling authors have written stories to honor these real-life heroines.
Brenda Jackson explores the importance of family in Whispers of the Heart, the story of a father’s struggle to recognize and manage his daughter’s health challenges.
Stephanie Bond’s It’s Not About the Dress tells the tale of a wedding dress gone missing, in which the perfect gown turns out to be the perfect gift for a bride in need.
Maureen Child reminds us of the happiness and purpose that even a youngster can find by putting her best foot forward in The Princess Shoes.
Dear Reader,
For many years, Harlequin has been a leader in supporting and promoting causes that are of concern to women, and celebrating women who make extraordinary differences in the lives of others. The Harlequin More Than Words program honors three women each year for their compassionate dedication to those who need it most, and donates $15,000 to each of their chosen causes.
Within these pages you will find stories written by Brenda Jackson, Stephanie Bond and Maureen Child. These stories are beautiful tributes to the Harlequin More Than Words award recipients, and we hope they will touch your heart and inspire the real-life heroine in you.
Thank you for your support. Proceeds from the sale of this book will be reinvested into the Harlequin More Than Words program so we can continue to support more causes of concern to women. And you can help even more by learning about and getting involved with the charities highlighted by Harlequin More Than Words, or even nominating an outstanding individual in your life for a future award.
Together we can make a difference!
Sincerely,
Donna Hayes
Publisher and CEO
Harlequin Enterprises Limited
NEW YORK TIMES Bestselling Author
BRENDA
JACKSON
Bestselling Author
Stephanie Bond
USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Maureen Child
Harlequin
More Than Words:
Acts of Kindness
Table of Contents
WHISPERS OF THE HEART
IT’S NOT ABOUT THE DRESS
THE PRINCESS SHOES
NANCY SANDER
Allergy & Asthma Network
Mothers of Asthmatics
Nancy Sander, founder and president of the Allergy & Asthma Network Mothers of Asthmatics in Fairfax, Virginia, is trying to run out the door, take two telephone calls at once and, juggling it all, drops her calendar book and a set of files as she goes.
“I’m a mess,” she says brightly. “I’m probably going to be senile before my time. Multitaskers tend to do too much.”
The world needs more multitaskers like Nancy, though. Since she launched the grassroots nonprofit organization back in 1985 in response to her daughter’s battle with severe asthma and allergies, the AANMA has grown into an international network of families determined to overcome asthma and allergies rather than simply cope with them. Thirteen staff members and seventy outreach service coordinator volunteers offer support and practical strategies in twenty states while publishing monthly award-winning newsletters, magazines, books and other educational material. Above all, Nancy and the AANMA give hope to parents who thought they would have to struggle with their children’s illness alone.
Nancy knows how important it is to feel supported.
For the first six years of her life, Nancy’s daughter, Brooke, fought every day to live like other kids her age. She wanted to ride a bike, play basketball with her brothers, sleep through the night—and breathe. Brooke was born with life-threatening asthma and food allergies that routinely landed her in the emergency department and hospital, and out of school. Back in the early eighties, asthma wasn’t well understood, and Brooke’s doctors warned the family that the little girl would struggle all her life. Nancy believed them and structured her life around her daughter’s asthma attacks.
“I did the best I knew how to do, but my daughter’s symptoms didn’t improve,” she says now.
Nancy had no idea where to turn, and remembers clearly the time she stood in church, tears falling, as she tried to sing with the congregation the hymn, “It Is Well with My Soul.”
“And I just said to God, ‘No, this is not well with my soul. Why is Brooke so sick? I’m exhausted. I don’t have the strength to do this. I don’t know how to do this,’” she recalls. “But the strength I developed during those dark days still powers the work I do today.”
It seems her plea for help was heard. When Brooke was accepted into a pharmaceutical clinical trial at Georgetown University Hospital, testing new methods of controlling asthma, life suddenly took a turn. Nancy and Brooke learned how to use a daily symptom diary and a peak flow meter, and Brooke started taking medication regularly, instead of waiting until she had an asthma attack. The regime worked, and after fourteen months, the family’s dynamic changed. For the first time, Nancy could leave Brooke with a sitter for longer than an hour and cheer her sons on at their basketball games. For the first time, Nancy was out in the world again.
It was at these events that Nancy would overhear other parents complaining about their children’s asthma symptoms.
“I’d listen to their descriptions and think, This is a cakewalk. They’re just not getting good care,” she says.
Knowing she had to do something to spread the word about proper asthma and allergy control, Nancy fell back on her old skills as a freelance writer and started producing a short four-page newsletter to be left in her doctor’s office. Next thing she knew, a local reporter wrote about Nancy’s story.
The article ran on the day of Brooke’s seventh birthday. As a houseful of kids ripped through the house, wearing high heels, dress-up clothes and jewelry, mothers, seniors, asthma sufferers and professionals from across the country started calling. They haven’t stopped.
Nancy admits she never intended to start a nonprofit organization, and if she’d known how much work would be involved, she might have been too intimidated to try. Luckily, ignorance is bliss, and Nancy has found hers in helping make a difference. Of course, most small miracles the organization accomplishes involve individual families, but sometimes Nancy thinks bigger. Much bigger.
Take the Asthmatic Schoolchildren’s Treatment and Health Management Act of 2004, one of the last bills President George Bush signed before being reelected. Some would say Nancy gave him no choice. AANMA called every day to remind his office how important the bill was. Finally, as he was thousands of feet in the air on Air Force One, he signed it. The bill protects the rights of children who must carry lifesaving asthma and allergy medication at school.
When Nancy heard that schoolchildren were suffering and others had died because their meds were locked away in school nurses’ offices, she realized it was exactly the kind of fight the AANMA needed to tackle.
It was a period of her life she’ll never forget, she says.
“Whatever comes into your life, no matter how negative or insurmountable it may seem at the time, it can have a positive impact,” she claims.
Nancy, AANMA staff and dedicated supporters are still fighting seemingly insurmountable challenges to end suffering and death due to asthma, allergies and anaphylaxis. She wants to see the day when people who are diagnosed with asthma are treated the same way as those diagnosed with cardiac or brain concerns. Lungs are just as vital, she says, and everyone should have access to specialized care and appropriate medication. She’s undaunted by the size and scope of this goal.
“There are very few impossible things,” she says.
Meanwhile, Brooke is now a beautiful, accomplished woman, and Nancy couldn’t be more proud of her. Because of her daughter, Nancy and AANMA are moving forward and lending a helping hand to millions of people diagnosed with asthma and allergies.
“I just get such a joy knowing that we can reach people with the information they need, knowing the impact it has on people every day,” Nancy says. “I’ve been blessed.”
For more information, visit www.aanma.org or write Allergy & Asthma Network Mothers of Asthmatics, 8201 Greensboro Drive, Suite 300, McLean, VA 22102.
WHISPERS OF
THE HEART
Enda Jackson
BRENDA JACKSON
Brenda Jackson is a die “heart” romantic who married her childhood sweetheart and still proudly wears the “going steady” ring he gave her when she was fifteen. Because she believes in the power of love, Brenda’s stories always have happy endings. In her real-life love story, Brenda and her husband of many years live in Jacksonville, Florida, and have two sons.
A New York Times bestselling author of more than one hundred romance titles, Brenda is a recent retiree who now divides her time between family, writing and traveling with Gerald. You may write Brenda at P.O. Box 28267, Jacksonville, FL 32226, by email at WriterBJackson@aol.com or visit her website at www.brendajackson.net.
DEDICATION
To the love of my life, Gerald Jackson, Sr.
To Nancy Sander and her staff and
volunteers at AANMA and the wonderful work they are doing.
Say to him, “Long life to you!
Good health to you and your household!
And good health to all that is yours!”
—1 Samuel 25:6
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
EPILOGUE
Dear Reader
CHAPTER
ONE
“DAD, THE CATERER’S HERE. She’s coming up the walkway.” Paul Castlewood glanced up from the computer screen in his home office and looked into his daughter’s smiling face, so like his own. Her slanted dark eyes were the only feature she had inherited from his ex-wife.
He closed the document file and began shutting down his computer. “Thanks, honey. Please show Ms. Chapman in.”
Heather turned to leave. “And she’s not bad looking either, Dad,” she added. “Real pretty.”
Paul shook his head. It wouldn’t be the first time his daughter had tried to get him interested in a woman. He always found it amusing, because most literature he’d read said that when it came to single fathers, daughters were notorious for being territorial. Not true for his kid. She would marry him off in a heartbeat if she could.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
He’d been married once and it had left a bad taste in his mouth. Heather had been barely five when Emma had decided she no longer wanted a husband or a child and had packed up her things and left. Her actions should have come as no surprise. She hadn’t wanted a baby and had blamed him for her pregnancy.
Heather, who was now a few weeks shy of sixteen, had seen her mother only twice since she’d left, and sadly, the occasions had been the funerals of her maternal grandparents. Even eleven years later, Paul still couldn’t understand how a woman could turn her back on a man who loved her and a daughter who needed her.
It had taken him long enough to stop trying to figure Emma out, and to just accept things as they were and move on. It hadn’t been easy when juggling his job as a marketing analyst and that of a single father, but raising Heather on his own had been rewarding. His parents had helped out some in the early years, but since retiring six years ago they had become missionaries and spent most of their time in other countries.
He could hear the door open and the sound of his daughter’s voice as she greeted their visitor. Michelle Chapman had come highly recommended as the best caterer in Lake Falls, and he was eager to have her take on Heather’s birthday party.
He and Heather had moved from Atlanta to the quiet, historical Georgia town six months ago when the company he’d worked for had downsized, and he had accepted a nice buy-out settlement. Only a skip and a hop from Savannah, Lake Falls was everything he wanted. Even Heather hadn’t complained about the move from the big city to a small town. She had quickly made new friends and had remarked a number of times that what she enjoyed the most was that he was around more often now that he’d set up his own website-design company at home.
He stood and crossed the room to glance out the window. Moss-draped oak trees lined the pretty cobblestone-paved street. He had stumbled across Lake Falls, a town many referred to as “Little Savannah,” a couple of years ago when he had taken a detour off Interstate 95 during road construction. Like Savannah, the small, historic Southern town was the site of many famous Revolutionary and Civil War battles, and Lake Falls could also boast it was once the summer residence of noted novelist Louisa May Alcott.
The town was a step back into time. The old brick-and-stone homes had retained a lot of their original beauty and charm, and the local residents were so passionate about preserving these resplendent old buildings that an ordinance had been passed requiring city council approval for any new home construction in this section of town.
The house Paul had purchased, like the other homes on the street, had been built in the eighteenth century, with a wraparound porch and stately columns. He had fallen in love with it the moment the Realtor had shown it to him, and Paul considered it as one of the best investments he’d ever made.
As he walked out of the office, he could hear his daughter chatting excitedly with Ms. Chapman, something that didn’t surprise him given the purpose of the woman’s visit. Heather’s sweet-sixteen party would be held here in their home with some of her friends from school and church. Deciding it was time to rescue the caterer before his daughter talked her to death, he hurried toward the living room.
When he rounded the corner to the foyer, he stopped dead in his tracks. Heather had been right. Michelle Chapman was a looker, and he had definitely taken notice.
* * *
“MS. CHAPMAN, THIS IS my dad.”
Michelle turned and met the eyes of the man who was leaning against the doorjamb and staring straight at her. She caught her breath when she felt a surge of something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Physical attraction.
He was absolutely stunning. Tall—probably at least six foot two—and lean, with dark impressive eyes and caramel-colored skin, he was more handsome than any man had a right to be. He looked comfortable and at home in his bare feet, jeans and a T-shirt that accentuated his muscular physique.
She had heard through the grapevine that Paul Castlewood was absolutely gorgeous, but she had refused to believe the wild tales. Seeing was believing. The new guy in town was definitely hot. Michelle figured he must be in his later thirties, and as far as she was concerned, he was the epitome of male perfection.
“Dad, this is Ms. Chapman.”
Heather’s voice intruded on Michelle’s thoughts and reality came crashing back. She was here because he needed a caterer for his daughter’s upcoming birthday party. He was a client and
therefore off-limits.
Putting on her professional face and wiping any inappropriate thoughts from her mind, she smiled and crossed the entryway as he shoved away from the door frame. She extended her hand. “Mr. Castlewood.”
“Ms. Chapman. And I prefer that you call me Paul.”
“And I’m Michelle.”
“Got it.”
He regarded her silently for a moment, not letting go of her hand. That gave her time to decide that the gold-rimmed glasses framing his dark eyes made him look ultrasexy versus brainy.
“We can meet in my office, Michelle,” he said, finally releasing his grip.
“All right.”
“Do you need my input?” Heather asked, smiling sweetly at her father and reminding them both that she was still there.
Paul rolled his eyes heavenward and then said, “Definitely not. I want to stay within the budget I’ve established. The menu is something Michelle and I can decide on, but I’ll make sure you have the final okay.”
“Fine by me, but if you change your mind...”
“I won’t.”
“But if you do,” Heather said, grinning, “I’ll be in the kitchen working on my biology project.” She turned and sashayed toward the back of the house.
Michelle glanced up at Paul and he smiled. “Sometimes I wonder why I keep her around,” he said jokingly.
“Because you love her,” Michelle said easily. That was how things had been between her and her own dad. They’d had a special relationship. In Michelle’s eyes, Prentiss Chapman had been everything a girl could want and need in a father, and even now, six months after he’d passed away, she was still trying to get over her loss.
“Yes, that I do,” Paul responded, directing her down a long hall. “She’s a good kid. She works hard, makes good grades in school and is respectful. However,” he added as they entered his office and he turned to face her, “on the downside, she will talk your ear off if you let her.”