Hope's Discovery (THE MATCHMAKER TRILOGY)

by Marie, Bernadette

  “I’ll be there.” He picked up the announcement and read it over.

  “Hey, pal, I’m really sorry it worked out this way. I’ve got your back. Whatever you need.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be okay.” The words were out, but they didn’t ring true in his heart.

  His mother offered to go to the funeral with him; even his father had offered, hesitantly. But he thought it best to go alone. He was hopeful that Hope would be there. Though he didn’t expect her to be alone, he wanted a moment to talk to her.

  When he walked across the grass to the plot where Donald Buchanan would be laid to rest, he felt a pang of sadness. There was only a small gathering of people, and no one sat in the family seats.

  The service went quickly and Trevor kept his eyes roaming, looking for Hope to arrive, but she didn’t.

  Once the service was over a gentle gloved hand touched his arm. He turned to see Ruth Marlow, her eyes shielded by large, round sunglasses, standing beside him.

  She was dressed in black and had even donned a black hat. He hadn’t seen her among the crowd. Then again he hadn’t been looking for her.

  “Mrs. Marlow, it’s nice to see you.”

  “You too, Mr. Jacobs.” She patted his arm. “I was sorry to hear that he passed.” She looked at the grave. “He’d have liked to have the chance to get to know her better.”

  “I thought she’d be here.”

  Ruth nodded. “She was with him when he died.”

  He staggered backward. She’d been in New York and hadn’t called or dropped by. She’d avoided him. He swiped the back of his hand over his brow. The heat was getting to him. “Hope was here? In New York?”

  “She came in with her mother and father.” Ruth shifted. “It’s hot. Why don’t we sit?”

  Trevor agreed and moved toward the chairs. “Did you see her while she was here?”

  Ruth sat straighter and held tight to her little shiny black purse. “Yes. She called to let me know they were coming. The hospital had contacted her when he’d started to fail. They flew right out.”

  “I would have thought she’d call me.”

  “She’s upset. You understand.”

  He nodded and he despised himself for it. “You met her parents, then?”

  Ruth smiled brightly. “Yes. They came to the house and we had dinner. David was as nice as I remembered, and Sophia, well, she’s just a genuinely wonderful woman. My Mandy did well when she gave Hope to them. They love her so much.”

  “You didn’t meet Carissa?”

  “No. But I’ll be there for Thanksgiving. Sophia invited me herself.”

  At least Donald Buchanan’s search for his daughter had netted Ruth Marlow some peace. She had a family again.

  Ruth took a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed her eyes under her large glasses. “She brought me a painting.”

  Trevor lifted his head. “Did she?”

  “A beautiful hummingbird. Just like the one my Mandy painted.” She let out a sigh and took a deep breath. Then she took her hand and laid it on Trevor’s. “She misses you.”

  He felt the quiver of hope run through him and it threatened to turn to tears, but he wasn’t going to shed them.

  Ruth replaced the handkerchief into her purse. “Give her some time. She has a lot going on in that beautiful head of hers right now. But my granddaughter is a smart one. She’ll do what’s right. Besides”—she stood next to him and looked down—“Donald liked you. He’d be happy to know you were together again.”

  She said her goodbye, and the small crowd that had lingered at the grave dispersed. Trevor sat alone, the casket of Donald Buchanan still only a few feet away.

  “I promise, if she forgives me, I will forever take care of her.”

  A breeze blew through the tent and the scent of lilacs carried on it. Trevor closed his eyes and breathed it in. It was familiar, but not for any reason he could think of.

  He decided it was time to go and put his life back together. With or without Hope. He pushed to his feet and walked to the casket. On the ground two white daises lay with their yellow centers staring up at him. Trevor bent down and picked them up. He looked for matching flowers in an arrangement, but there weren’t any. Only the two he had found on the ground.

  He reached to lay them on Donald’s casket and as he did, he felt the shock of electricity race through his fingers, just like the day he’d met Hope. He pulled back his hand and gave it a shake. And then he smiled.

  “It’s a sign, Hope. Daisies. All women in your family like daisies.” He gave a laugh. “I’ll bet that would include your great-grandmother and your great-aunt as well.”

  There was a bubble of excitement that nearly burst within him. He’d been chosen. Donald Buchanan had chosen him for his little girl, whether he had meant to or not, and the universe was telling him not to give up.

  No, he wouldn’t give up. He loved Hope, he was going to marry her.

  From his office in New York, Trevor managed to find himself an apartment in Kansas City. He gave some thought to the distance from Hope’s shop and her home and made sure it was far enough he couldn’t be accused of stalking her. He’d only signed a six-month lease; when things worked out, they’d need a bigger place.

  He’d organized his client folders and made notes. He’d hand them over to Bryce without another thought. He deserved them for having put up with Trevor for so long.

  The tap at the door was welcome when he saw his mother standing in the doorway in her pristine blue suit.

  “I just received this in the office.” She held up a file folder. “It’s one of my clients, but the request was made for you to deliver it.”

  Trevor pushed back in his chair and gave chuckle. “What are you talking about?”

  “It seems that Carmichael Industries purchased the medical supply company last year.”

  “You picked up that account.” He rose from his chair and walked toward her. “You wined, dined, and impressed the socks off of Peter Carmichael with your backswing on the tennis court.”

  She smiled broadly. “I sure did.”

  “Okay, what does this have to do with me?”

  “Well, this medical supply was formerly owned by Donald Buchanan.”

  Trevor shook his head. What a tidy package.

  Violet stepped into the office further. “He gave this to Peter Carmichael during the merger. He told Peter that upon his death there were specific instructions on what he was to do with it.”

  “And he was supposed to give it to me?”

  “Yes.” She handed him the file.

  Trevor opened it and dumped its contents on his desk. In the envelope were stock certificates, just like the ones Hope and Carissa had found in Mandy’s safe-deposit box. With them was a letter that stated upon Buchanan’s death the stocks that were still in his name were to go to Mandy Marlow and one Trevor Jacobs was to deliver them to her. Or, since she had died, to her children.

  Trevor handed the letter back to his mother. “This must have been about the time he learned there was a daughter. He had every intention of using me to find Mandy and Hope.”

  “Looks like it.”

  “But why would he still have stocks?”

  “Carmichael would have used that in the deal. Lots of mergers happen that way. They give the prior owner stock options.”

  “Carmichael doesn’t know about the other stocks, then.”

  “What stocks?”

  “The ones Donald Buchanan gave to Mandy after her father died.”

  Violet smiled widely. “Well, it looks like your girlfriend and her sister just became very wealthy.”

  He nodded and then swallowed the lump in his throat. “I have to deliver these to her.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “She has to see me now. I guess I can give them all to Carissa, but…” A smile as wide as his mother’s settled on his face. “I love you, Mom.”

  “I know you do, Son. I’ll miss you now that you’ll be living in Kansa
s City. But you’ll visit often, right?”

  “You can bet on it.”

  It was a Saturday and Hope was grateful. It had been a rough few weeks, but Saturdays were busy and that kept her mind off Trevor and the loss of Donald Buchanan.

  She rang up a sale and had four other guests shopping for gifts.

  As she finished the sale and the guest walked out the door, she looked back to see four sets of eyes peering through the glass and she smiled. Her nieces and nephews were the one thing that would forever make her happy.

  Hope walked around the corner of the counter, and they all marched in like little soldiers in a row. They had their hands tucked behind their backs and very serious looks on their faces.

  “My goodness, what are the four of you up to?”

  “These are for you,” Becky said as she handed her three daisies.

  “Daisies are my favorite.”

  “I know.” Becky smiled.

  The other three followed suit as the door opened and Trevor walked in with a bouquet of daisies in one hand and a large envelope in the other. He stood at the door, the kids at his side and now the peering eyes of her sister had arrived in the window.

  Hope stiffened, though inside she was all sorts of mush for the sentiment.

  “Trevor. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m groveling. I’m begging. I’m pleading. I’m—”

  “I get it.”

  He stepped to her and handed her the flowers. “I’m an”—he looked at the little people standing behind him—“a butt. A big, fat, sorry butt.”

  The children giggled.

  Hope bit the inside of her cheek so as not to laugh. “You are a butt.”

  “I know. My mother didn’t raise me to be one, but all the same I became one and I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.” She finally smiled. “But what do you want? I’m busy.”

  He handed her the large gold envelope, and she exchanged glances with him.

  “What is this?”

  “Your biological father left that for you. Well, for you and Carissa. Okay, he left it for Mandy.”

  “You’re babbling.”

  He wiped his hands on his pants and then shoved them into his pockets. “I’m nervous.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I love you and I’m afraid you don’t love me anymore.”

  She took a breath to steady herself. He loved her. Well, she could see that in his eyes, no matter what he’d done before. But for the moment she liked that he was nervous around her.

  Hope walked back to the counter, slid out the contents of the envelope, and looked up at him. No matter how badly she’d tried to let her feelings go, she couldn’t. “My biggest problem is that I still love you and don’t know how to get over it.”

  She looked down at the pile she’d slid from the envelope and tried to make sense of it. She read the letter, focused in on the part where Donald knew Trevor would know where to find her, and shook her head.

  “He left us his stocks? Well, he left them to Mandy?”

  “Yes.”

  “So we own these and the ones Mandy left us?”

  “Yes.”

  Her eyes widened and she let out an unsteady breath. “Wow. I don’t know what else to say.”

  “Well that’s all I guess I had to do.” He turned to walk to the door. Four sets of eyes still lingered on him.

  “Trevor, you know that my family is really big into matchmaking.” She walked around the side of the counter as he turned around.

  “You’ve mentioned it.”

  “Well, without Grandma Katie and Aunt Millie, I figured I’d never have my chance. But it looks like my biological father was a matchmaker of sorts.”

  “I suppose it does.” He walked toward her.

  “So, given the fact that in my dreams Grandma told you’d come, and Donald actually sent you for me—twice—I guess I have to look at that as a sign.”

  “Do you believe in signs, Hope?”

  “I think I do.”

  She was right in front of him now, and there was that electricity buzzing between them again. He felt it too. She saw it in his eyes.

  Trevor reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. Her breath hitched and she met his eyes as he opened it.

  She let out a little gasp and he smiled. “Would you consider this a sign?” He took the princess-cut diamond ring from the box and held it out to her.

  Hope raised her fingers to her mouth. “Trevor, do you think this is really wise?”

  “Matchmakers and signs. I don’t see any way around it.”

  The guests who had been shopping were now gathered around, and Carissa had stepped into the shop.

  Trevor got down on one knee and took her hand. “I’ve made some huge mistakes and I’m sorry for them. But they led me to you, and I fell in love with you the moment I saw your face in a picture. Hope, I want you to be my wife. I want to have children with you and I want you to paint their faces on canvas just as you did mine.”

  “Trevor.” She gulped in air, trying to keep the happy sob that bubbled in her throat from escaping.

  “I want to wake with you every morning for the rest of my life, and I want to grow very old with you and have Sunday dinners at our house.”

  “I can’t do that.” She looked at him, keeping her face straight.

  “Oh.” His face drained of color and the smile disappeared from his lips.

  “Sunday dinner belongs at my mom’s house. We can do Saturday.”

  The color returned to his cheeks and a smile to his lips. He shook his head and let out a loud breath. “You’ll marry me?”

  “I’ll marry you.”

  He slid the ring on her finger and stood back up. Hope wrapped her arms around his neck, and he wrapped his around her waist.

  “I’ll make you happy, Hope.”

  “You’d better.” But she knew he would. She’d know it since she saw him in her dreams.

  EPILOGUE

  Hope wore Aunt Millie’s dress and her Grandma Katie’s veil. The necklace her grandmother had given her mother, who had passed it to Carissa, who had then given to her, hung prominently on her neck. In Donald Buchanan’s belongings, which she’d been given, were a pair of cufflinks with embedded diamonds, which Trevor wore on his shirt, and they caught the sunlight as her father walked her down the aisle toward him.

  Hope carried a bouquet of daisies, and so did her sister and her nieces.

  It was her turn to marry in the backyard of her sister’s house. Her grandmother had married there as well as her grandparents, parents, and her sister. Spring surrounded them and embraced them with the blooming of flowers and the fresh green leaves on the trees.

  David hugged her tightly as he stopped before Trevor. She smiled up at him, and a tear lingered in his eye. She kissed him softly on the cheek. She loved him so much and was so grateful for everything that had led her to him.

  David turned to Trevor, shook his hand, and then pulled him into a hug.

  “Take care of her.”

  “I promise, sir.”

  David took his seat next to his wife, and Hope watched as Ruth pulled a handkerchief from her purse and handed it Violet, who then dabbed her eyes with it.

  Trevor said he’d take her as his wife and she responded in kind. The minister led them into prayers of thanks, and Hope realized she’d never been more thankful than she was at that moment.

  And as Hope kissed her husband, the wind blew through the yard. The scent of lilacs floated in the air, and two daisies fell at her feet. Trevor smiled as he picked them up and tucked them into her hair.

  “A match made in heaven.”

  Hope lifted her eyes to the sky where the sun filtered through the clouds and rays of shimmery light cast down on her as if her grandmother and aunt were embracing her with the warmth. She looked at her husband and lifted her hand to his cheek. “And what a heavenly match it is.”

  About the Author

 
; Bernadette Marie grew up obsessed with pens and notebooks. Each one filled with lists and ideas for stories. Not much has changed. This wife, and mother of five sons, has a passion for writing stories about falling in love, finding love where you left it, and strong families.

  Bernadette Marie is an accomplished martial artist, with a black belt in Tang Soo Do/Tae Kwan Do. She is also a chronic entrepreneur. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Colorado Romance Writers, and Colorado Fiction Writers. Visit her website at www.bernadettemarie.com for news on upcoming releases, signings, and contests

  Upcoming Snowy Creek Books™

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  Guardian Angel, Book Two by Bernadette Marie

  A Driftwood Springs Christmas, Book Three by Joyce Brennan

  Dead Man Talking by John Geraci

  Enter Here Exit Only by Jack Owens

  QUESTING HART TRILOGY

  Shattered Hart

  Hopeful Hart

  Spirited Hart Book Three

  The Road to Heaven by Gary Thurmer

  THE IMMORTAL FILES

  The Immortal Discovery

  WOMEN OF REXFORD

  Olivia

  Victoria

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