It was too late, too dark, to go up on the mountain, but she took a lantern and went outside with Joseph. She sat in one of the chairs and looked up at the sky. She couldn’t remember seeing so many stars. Not even in Afghanistan, but perhaps then she’d been blinded by violence.
The pageant was over. She had done her part, what had been asked of her for use of the cabin. In doing so, she had found part of herself that had been lost.
It was time for her to leave. She had achieved her purpose. She would always have the horrendous images. She would most likely have nightmares and flashbacks. But now she thought she could manage them. She knew she could function again. The cabin should go to someone who needed it more than she did. She was sure Dr. Payne had another prospective guest. There was a lot of pain out there. A lot of injuries that couldn’t be seen.
Reality hurt. She didn’t want to leave Covenant Falls. She didn’t want to leave Nate, but maybe she must if she planned to heal herself completely. Maybe she had just been in a bubble. She knew one thing. She had to get a job.
“What do you think, Joseph?” she said.
The dog made a sound like a plaintive cry.
“Can’t say I disagree,” she said. A decision was made.
* * *
THE DINNER AT Al Monroe’s home was not what she’d thought it would be. She had expected a formal event and had not looked forward to it.
There wasn’t champagne, but there was wine and beer. The menu included a large roast and roasted potatoes and grilled vegetables. But it wasn’t the food that set the mood, it was Al himself.
He welcomed eighteen people with enthusiasm, thanking them for coming and congratulating them for what they had accomplished in the past weeks.
At the end of the dinner, he stood. “I was wrong,” he said. “I was wrong in trying to keep everything as it was. Angus didn’t do that. He invited people to his settlement. He was one of the first to call for statehood. He didn’t fear change. He welcomed it.”
He turned to Josh and Eve. “Thank you for bringing this town together in amazing ways.” Then he turned to Andy and raised his glass. “I want to make a toast to the young woman who renewed the spirit of Covenant Falls, and that includes my family. Thank you.”
The people in the large dining room exploded with applause.
Andy felt her face grow hot. And red. “It was a community effort,” she protested.
“A young lady who invaded my office,” Al continued, “and very nicely bullied me and encouraged my wife to do what she always wanted to do and I didn’t know it, who stirred this entire town to work together for a common goal. It didn’t happen until you came here, and I, for one, am grateful.”
“Hear, hear,” said Clint.
Everyone but Andy applauded. Her face just went rosier.
“So I wanted to do something for Covenant Falls. I want to keep Andy Stuart here. Eve and I joined forces, and we want to offer her a job as curator of our museum combined with executive director of our new chamber of commerce. The position of curator will be financed by the city and I’ll pay for the chamber expenses. After looking at the museum, though, I wonder if she will accept.”
Andy looked around, saw the smiling faces around and realized everyone else had known what was coming. She was speechless. She wasn’t qualified. She was a one-handed nurse with PTSD.
At the same time, she started thinking of what she could do, the opportunities to build something. The museum was certainly a challenge. She’d always liked challenges.
“We won’t put her on the spot,” Al continued. “But the job is hers if she chooses to take it.”
Clint stood up then. “I would like to make another announcement.”
To Andy’s relief, faces turned from her to Clint.
“Stephanie has finally agreed to a date. You’re all invited to the wedding the first day of July.”
A chorus of “about time” went around the table. Then they had strawberry shortcake with real whipped cream and, finally, champagne.
* * *
NATE DROVE ANDY HOME. She was still in a state of shock.
She’d made a decision earlier that day, and Al had just shoved a sword through it.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I’m still too numb to think anything.”
“It was Al’s initiative,” Nate said.
“You knew,” she accused him.
“I did, but just since 2:00 p.m. today. I think Al and Eve were afraid you would leave before they could work something out.”
“Did you know about Clint and Stephanie?”
“No. I don’t think they planned to announce it yet. But I believe he knew you were uncomfortable and...”
Warmth filled her that someone would do that for her.
She liked Covenant Falls. She liked it very much.
When they reached the cabin, he walked her to the door. Joseph barked then wriggled all over when she and Nate entered. “I know you must be exhausted,” he said.
“I have a call to make first,” she said.
She dialed her mother’s number. “Mom,” she said when the phone was answered immediately. “I have a job. A great job, and I want you and my sisters to visit me. Maybe even, well... Covenant Falls is welcoming new people.”
She answered the questions, then hung up and leaned against Nate.
She didn’t have a decision to make now. She’d made it the minute Al mentioned the job. She didn’t care what it paid. She wanted to stay here with people she liked and who liked her and thought her of worth. She loved her own personal mountain, and the people who had spent endless hours on a half-baked scheme. They’d made the impossible possible.
“I’m happy for Clint and Stephanie,” she said.
“Me, too. Particularly for Clint. Stephanie was really gun-shy as far as marriage goes, but anyone who wasn’t blind could see they were in love.”
He took her in his arms.
“Maybe someday...” he said. She looked into those warm hazel eyes and understood exactly what he was saying.
She took his hand and led him into the bedroom.
She knew, he knew, someday wasn’t far away.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from SECOND CHANCE MOM by Emilie Rose.
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Second Chance Mom
by Emilie Rose
CHAPTER ONE
RACHEL BISHOP RETRACED the path to the detention officer’s classroom that she’d taken dozens of times nearly fifteen years ago. Her anxiety level increased with each step, even though she wasn’t the one in trouble. This time.
She’d faced down inner-city thugs, armed militants and deadly diseases: none of which had terrified her as much as the huge responsibility waiting inside room 127.
A second chance at parenthood. Was she up to it?
She had to be. Moments ago she’d signed papers accepting full custody of Chastity. She’d failed the child once before. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—this time.
Her knees locked in front of the closed classroom door. She blotted clammy palms on her pants and endeavored to subdue her rampant nerves. It said a lot about the conforming citizens of Johnstonville that their combination middle and high school only needed one room for the troublemakers. The school had changed little since she’d left. Would prune-faced Miss Gentry still be sitting behind the desk wearing her perpetual scowl?
Time to find out. Rachel pushed the door. It yielded with a sucking whoosh. Through the six-inch gap Rachel saw the old maid wasn’t in the front of the room. Instead, Matt Johnston, the last person she wanted or expected to see, occupied the teacher’s chair. Rachel froze, her automatic fight-or-flight response engaging. Every instinct screamed run. But she couldn’t.
She had loved Matt with all the passion her seventeen-year-old heart could contain, then she’d wronged him unforgivably. She wasn’t ready—would never be ready—to face him.
In seconds, her adrenaline-sharpened focus registered that his hair was darker than the sun-bleached blond she’d run her fingers through. But then his mesmerizing, make-her-forget-her-own-name blue eyes swung her way, and her stomach dropped as if she’d flown into an air pocket.
A roar filled her ears, and dizziness swamped her. She wanted to blame her reaction on jet lag, but her racing pulse said otherwise. It was fear. Not of Matt. But of everything he embodied. He represented her greatest failure. One that had nearly destroyed her. Afraid she’d fold into a heap on the floor, she gripped the door frame tighter and forced air into her constricted chest.
“May I help you?”
His familiar deep voice sent a fresh wave of panic through her. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled to attention. Matt didn’t know. He couldn’t. Her secret was safe. Hope had been the only one who’d known the truth, and her sister would never have told anyone—doing so would have damaged her saintly reputation.
Matt’s politely curious expression turned into annoyance when Rachel didn’t respond. He rose and crossed the room, blocking her entry by gripping the door in one big, familiar hand—one that had touched her intimately and taught her so much about pleasure. His defensive position displayed the added breadth of the chest and shoulders on which she’d once relished resting her cheek. That combined with the golden late-day stubble on his square chin magnified his masculinity and made him far more handsome than the twenty-one-year-old college boy he’d been back then.
But his crisply pressed shirt and pants told her one facet of his personality hadn’t changed. Matt had always been a little too polished and perfect. His neatness had challenged her, and she’d loved mussing his thick, perfectly combed hair and yanking his shirttail from his pants to run her hands over his muscles.
Her fingertips tingled. She fisted her hands and shoved them into her pants pockets to keep them out of trouble. Matt hadn’t been the man for her then. He wasn’t now—never could be. She should have left him alone all those years ago. But she’d been too self-destructive to be smart.
That was then. She’d learned a lot of painful lessons since.
“May I help you?” he repeated in a firmer tone.
“Hello, Matt.” Her voice came out as little more than a whisper. Before she could clear her throat and try again, his eyes narrowed. Then he recoiled in recognition. That stung.
“Rachel?” His gaze flashed over her like wildfire, igniting dormant cells like a match to a dry savanna. When his eyes returned to hers she saw his surprise and understood it.
He might look the same—only better—but she bore little resemblance to the mischief-making teen she’d been. Her loose cotton shirt and wrinkled khakis were a far cry from the formfitting clothing she’d once worn to entice him, and these days she adorned her face with nothing more than sunscreen.
She touched a hand to her hair. Most of it was still in the haphazard knot she’d twisted it into before beginning her exhausting trek, but bits and pieces had escaped. After four different airports and three time zones, she probably looked a mess. A touch of her old vanity made her wish she’d spruced up before entering the building.
“Yeah. Long time no see.” Her feigned nonchalance sounded believable. To her anyway. She leaned to look past him and into the classroom where the office secretary had said Rachel’s dau—niece was supposed to be, but the solid block that was Matt obscured her view. She heard a buzz of whispers. Was Chastity’s one of them? Excitement fizzed through Rachel’s veins.
Distrust flickered in Matt’s eyes. Could she blame him? No. She’d earned it.
“We’ll talk outside.” He turned to the class. “Get back to work on those essays.” He moved forward, forcing Rachel to retreat, then he closed the door between them and the students.
His scowl could scare small children. “It’s about time you showed up.”
“I came as soon as I could.”
“Hope’s funeral was weeks ago.” Anger and condemnation tinged his quiet words and flattened those sexy lips.
Irritation washed over her. Instead of asking why she’d missed her only sibling’s funeral, Matt seemed to be passing judgment on her like everyone else in this unforgiving town had always done. No one had ever bothered to ask why Rachel had rebelled. They’d only condemned her for it. At one time Matt had been the exception, but now he seemed to have boarded the censure train with everyone else.
Reining in her temper, she glanced down the hall and fought for calm. The eerie silence of a school after hours surrounded them. The corridor seemed private and intimate. Fertile ground for trouble.
She met Matt’s disapproving gaze but decided not to waste her breath with explanations. “I’m here now. Is Chastity in there?”
“Yes. She’s striking out at everyone who tries to help with her grief and stirring up all kinds of trouble. Her schoolwork and behavior have suffered.”
“And the answer to her pain is to send her to detention?”
Matt’s lips curled downward. “The staff has been as helpful and patient as possible, but she cussed out a substitute teacher. That left us with no options except detention or expulsion.”
“Who’d she curse at? And what unfeeling sonofabitch would punish a grieving kid?”
His frown deepened grooves beside his mouth—grooves he hadn’t had when she’d kissed every inch of his face. “Me. I cut her some slack, but I can’t allow her to undermine my authority with my students.” His eyes narrowed. “Acting out to get attention is something you should understand all too well. It’s no surprise you’d make excuses for her. Or that you’d show up here days late.”
Guilt over her past behavior heated her chest, neck and cheeks, yet chilled her at the same time. She hugged her middle. Only Matt had understood that her rebellion had been a cry for her parents’ attention, but they’d been too busy saving the world to help one confused teenager. Rachel would have given anything to have them pay half as much attention to her as they had to strangers. Instead, they’d dumped her on her older sister. But Hope had been no substitute for her mother or her father.
Rachel squashed the memories. “I was in a flood-ravaged village in a third world country with minimal communication and access to the outside. I didn’t get the message about Hope until six days after her...passing. I came as soon as I could.”
She didn’t bother telling him that she’d had to wait for a rare supply flight because the countryside surrounding them had been controlled by rebels, and crossing by land was too dangerous. He wouldn’t want to hear it. Wouldn’t care.
Matt folded his arms across his impressive chest and narrowed his eyes. “Really.”
His skepticism sobered her. Matt had known her when deceiving people had been her MO.
“I was working, Matt.” She hated defending herself. There hadn’t been a need to do so since she’d left this narrow-minded town. Her dedication and the quality of her work spoke for itself. “I faxed Hope’s lawyer my power of attorney, so she wouldn’t have to lie in the morgue until I could get here.”
She’d seen too many morgues. The idea of her sister lying in one had been unbearable.
Matt’s expression hardened. “How considerate of you. Chastity needed you sooner. She’s struggling and afraid.”
That made two of them. “I’m here for her now. I’ll take her back home with me, and we’ll...we’ll get through this together.”
She had no idea how she’d fit a teenager into her life. She always threw herself into her work, exhausting herself each day so she could sleep at night. Suppressing one’s needs was a common fault in her profession, and she was as guilty of it as most. Maybe more so since she had a past she wished she could forget.
A gaggle of chattering cheerleaders rounded the corner. They snapped to attention when they spotted Matt, then eyed him as they sashayed past, but he seemed blind to their flirtatious smiles.
Rachel watched them, her heart heavy with the unjustness of life. That old song was right. The good were the only ones who died young. When Rachel had irritated her parents to the point they could barely stand the sight of her, Hope had generously offered Rachel a home so she could attend normal American school for her senior year. Rachel had jumped at the chance to escape the vagabond life of near poverty in which she’d lived in the mission villages. Hope had bailed Rachel out of countless disasters, culminating in relocating to anonymous Atlanta to help Rachel hide the shameful consequences of a teenage pregnancy. Hope had taken her kindness even further by adopting Rachel’s daughter when Rachel had voiced her fears of relinquishing her baby girl to strangers.
A Soldier's Journey Page 27
