Hill Country Reunion

by Myra Johnson

  Pulse thundering, Diana wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. “I never, ever stopped loving you.”

  “Then you have to believe as I’ve come to accept, that God brought us back together because we were never meant to be apart.” Easing from her embrace, Tripp drew something sparkly from his breast pocket, then took her left hand in his.

  She gasped. “Is that...a ring?”

  “I’ve been holding on to this for twelve long years.”

  “You mean—”

  “I bought it just a few days before my first serious hospital stay, before I learned I had Crohn’s.” Tripp’s eyes darkened. His voice grew thick. “When I called you to break up, I was clutching this ring against my heart. I’d convinced myself I had to let you go, but I was never able to part with this one tiny symbol of hope.”

  “Oh, Tripp.” Scarcely feeling the tears slipping down her face, she cupped his cheek. “If only you’d trusted me. If only you’d trusted our love.”

  “It’s a mistake I’ll never make again. I can’t undo the past, but if you’ll have me, we can start right now working on the future we always dreamed of.” Still holding her hand, he sank to one knee. “Marry me, Diana. Let’s not waste another minute.”

  Sinking down next to him, she threw her arms around his neck. “Yes, Tripp Willoughby, I will marry you—and the sooner, the better!”

  Epilogue

  One month later

  Making a rush trip to the ER was not the way Tripp envisioned spending his wedding day. At least this time it was for a much happier occasion than dealing with his personal health issues. Seemed Diana’s matron of honor, Christina Austin, insisted on going into labor three weeks early—and two hours before Tripp and Diana were supposed to say their “I do’s.”

  “Honey, sit down.” Diana looped her arm around his waist. “Wearing a groove in the waiting room carpet isn’t helping Christina and Seth in the delivery room.”

  “Maybe not, but it makes me feel like I’m doing something.” Tripp snuggled Diana under his chin. His stomach was in knots, and it had nothing to do with the Crohn’s. He couldn’t help imagining both the terror and the elation of someday being with Diana for the birth of their own child.

  Except there needed to be a wedding first, and the whole day had just been turned upside down.

  A sudden commotion drew his attention to the door. The widest grin Tripp had ever seen split Seth’s face. Wearing a blue paper gown over the dress pants and shirt he would have worn to the wedding, he strode into the waiting room. “Jacob and Elisabeth Austin have officially arrived!”

  A collective whoop of joy filled the room. Bryan and Marie Peterson rushed over with Seth’s older kids, Joseph and Eva. All four of them smothered Seth with laughter and hugs, while Diana squeezed Tripp until he almost couldn’t breathe. Eyes filling, he hugged her back. He’d calmly delivered any number of puppies and kittens during his years as a vet, but this was an entirely different kind of thrill—and it wasn’t even his baby.

  Diana tugged on his arm. “Let’s congratulate the new dad.”

  Joining Seth and his family, Tripp and Diana listened as Seth recited the statistics. “Jacob weighs five pounds, nine ounces, and Elisabeth is five pounds, two and a half ounces. And they both have healthy sets of lungs!”

  “How’s Christina?” Diana asked.

  “Tired, but so, so happy.” Seth still hadn’t stopped grinning.

  Tripp pumped Seth’s hand. “You look like you could use some rest, yourself, Daddy.”

  Eyes widening, Seth palmed his forehead. “Aw, man—your wedding!”

  “Hey, no worries. We’ll just reschedule.” Although delaying making Diana his wife was the very last thing Tripp wanted to do.

  Diana stretched up to give Seth a kiss on the cheek. “We should go. Give Christina our love, and tell her we’ll see her soon.”

  “I will. And thanks for being here.” Seth winked. “Once y’all tie the knot, I’ll be happy to return the favor someday.”

  After a round of goodbyes to Seth and his family, Tripp escorted Diana down to the parking lot. The January day had grown blustery as the sun sank toward the western hills, and Diana minced along in spiky heels, a short jacket and the shimmery waltz-length white dress Tripp wasn’t supposed to see until she started down the aisle at Shepherd of the Hills Community Church.

  She did look amazingly beautiful, though, and Tripp told her so for probably the twentieth time that day as he helped her into his SUV.

  “At least my dress is bought and paid for,” she said. “Your rental tux is due back tomorrow.”

  With a tight-lipped nod, Tripp closed her door, then dashed around to climb in behind the wheel. He sat there for a minute while his thoughts raced. “What if...what if we go over to the church right now and have Pastor Terry marry us in a private ceremony?”

  Diana stared at him, her brows forming a V. “Are you serious?”

  “Never more so.” He shifted to face her. “Unless you’d be too disappointed not to have your big church wedding?”

  She lifted her hand to his cheek and lightly kissed his lips. “The wedding isn’t nearly as important to me as spending the rest of my life as Mrs. Dr. Tripp Willoughby.”

  “Then...”

  Facing forward, Diana snapped on her seat belt. “Let’s do it.”

  * * *

  When they arrived back at the church, Diana spotted her parents’ car outside the fellowship hall and figured they had stayed to pack up the reception food and decorations.

  “That looks like Brooke’s rental car, too,” Tripp said.

  “Great, they’re all here. I’ll go tell them the plan while you track down Pastor Terry.” With a quick kiss, Diana shoved open her door.

  Hurrying into the fellowship hall, she shouted, “Mom, Dad, everybody! The wedding’s still on.”

  “What?” Brooke whirled around and nearly toppled a floral arrangement. “I thought you’d decided to postpone.”

  Diana’s mother rushed out of the kitchen. “Everyone’s already gone home, honey. And the food’s all packed for freezing.”

  “None of that matters.” Diana took Brooke’s hand on one side and her mother’s on the other, then smiled toward her father and future father-in-law as the men strode over. “Our families are here, and Tripp’s rounding up Pastor Terry. We’ll save the food and hold a reception in a week or two, after we get back from the honeymoon.”

  “I’m so glad,” Brooke said, beaming. “I didn’t know how I’d get time off work again so I could make the trip to be your bridesmaid.”

  The door flew open and Tripp marched in, the pastor in tow. He swooped Diana into a hug. “Let’s get married!”

  “Wait,” Diana burst out. “There’s still one person missing. Aunt Jennie will be so disappointed if she misses my wedding.”

  Mom shook her head. “We took her back to her apartment hours ago. I’m not sure she’s up for another outing so soon.”

  “Then let’s take the wedding to her.” Diana looked to Pastor Terry for confirmation.

  He nodded in agreement. “I’ll call the administrator right now and explain what’s happening.”

  Tripp pulled Diana aside. “With this last-minute change of plans, I’ve got something else I need to take care of. I’ll meet you at the center in a few minutes, okay?”

  Arching a brow, Diana straightened the boutonnière pinned to his lapel. “Might this have anything to do with a surprise wedding gift?”

  “It might.” He winked. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  Already feeling as if her heart would float right out of her chest, Diana did her best to contain her curiosity.

  By the time everyone arrived at the assisted-living center, an aide had brought Aunt Jennie to the community room. A few other residents had also gathered, which was fine wit
h Diana since she’d gotten to know them during the regular therapy pet visits. They seemed almost as excited as Aunt Jennie to be able to attend Diana’s wedding.

  Even some of the staff looked on as Diana and Tripp recited their vows. Following the brief ceremony, the family joined Aunt Jennie in the dining room for the evening meal. Diana’s mother had brought the wedding cake, and everyone applauded as Diana and Tripp fed each other the first few bites from the upper tier, specially made with Crohn’s-friendly ingredients. Afterward, the staff served generous slices to the residents.

  As they sat around the table finishing their cake and sipping decaf, Tripp leaned close to kiss Diana’s cheek. “Be right back, okay? By the way, this would be a good time to invite everybody back to the community room.”

  “Tripp...what are you up to?”

  His only reply was a mischievous grin.

  A few minutes later, with Aunt Jennie settled in a comfortable chair and other residents filtering in from the dining room, Diana glanced toward the foyer to see Kelly Nesbit, Vince and Janice Mussell, and a few other therapy pet volunteers with their dogs. Before Diana could gather her wits to ask what was going on, the grinning volunteers paraded into the community room. One by one, they peeled off to stop and say hello to the elderly residents, who were delighted by the unexpected visit.

  Then Tripp entered, a perky tan-and-white corgi prancing alongside him. He and the dog headed straight for Aunt Jennie. Yipping with excitement, Ginger danced on her hind legs as she stretched up to shower Aunt Jennie with doggie kisses.

  “Oh, my Ginger! My sweet little Ginger-dog!” Tears streamed down Aunt Jennie’s face as she cuddled the companion she’d missed so much.

  Dumbfounded, and loving this man more than ever, Diana captured Tripp’s hand. “When did you do this?”

  “I made a quick trip to see Mrs. Doudtman in San Antonio few days ago. Kelly’s been keeping Ginger for me until I could spring the surprise.” He slid his arm around Diana and tilted her chin for a kiss. “We can always use another therapy pet, right? Besides, I told you when I bought the house that it had a great yard for dogs.”

  “Yes, I do seem to remember that. I just hope Ginger will make up quickly with my menagerie.”

  “Mrs. Doudtman said she adapted very well to both her shelties and a cat she adopted recently. Her grandkids, too, so I’m not anticipating any problems.”

  “Good.” Diana squeezed in closer. “Because I also remember you said something about having kids of our own someday.”

  “Speaking of which...” Passing the leash to Diana’s father, Tripp nudged her toward the exit. “What do you say we get started on our honeymoon, Mrs. Willoughby?”

  “Why, Dr. Willoughby, I thought you’d never ask!”

  * * * * *

  If you loved this tale of sweet romance,

  pick up these other stories

  from author Myra Johnson:

  RANCHER FOR THE HOLIDAYS

  HER HILL COUNTRY COWBOY

  Available now from Love Inspired!

  Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com

  Keep reading for an excerpt from HER SECRET DAUGHTER by Ruth Logan Herne.

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  Dear Reader,

  I hope you enjoyed this visit to Juniper Bluff in the Texas Hill Country as much as I did. Not long after Diana Matthews first appeared as a supporting character in Her Hill Country Cowboy, I knew I needed to write her story. A hardworking small-town business owner, still single after all these years? Must have been some heartbreak in her past. That gave me the idea for a reunion story, and into my plot walked Tripp Willoughby.

  After Tripp ended their college romance, Diana spent years struggling with doubts, confusion and resentment. Can you relate to her fears of opening her heart again? Can you identify with Tripp’s fears about the future, his need to spare the woman he loves from the possibly life-altering complications of his health condition?

  Fear is a powerful motivator, but often the things we’re most afraid of are only vague uncertainties, events that may never come to pass. If we truly trust God, though, those fears don’t have to rule our lives. Scripture tells us, “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear” (1 John 4:18a). So if fear is holding you back from something potentially good in your life, try courageously stepping out in the full assurance of God’s perfect love. Even if things don’t turn out as hoped, it doesn’t mean God has abandoned you. We can’t see the bigger picture, but God can. Just keep trusting and praying for His purposes to unfold in your life.

  Thank you for joining me for Tripp and Diana’s story. I love to hear from readers, so please contact me through my website, www.MyraJohnson.com, or write to me c/o Love Inspired Books, Harlequin Enterprises, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.

  With blessings and gratitude,

  Myra

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.

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  Her Secret Daughter

  by Ruth Logan Herne

  Chapter One

  Josie Gallagher gripped the letter from the county manager’s office with tight hands.

  She already knew the contents. Cruz Maldonado, her cousin Rory’s husband and a lawyer, had called with a heads-up the night before. She’d lost her battle against the hotel giant erecting a five-star resort just south of her popular lakeside barbecue joint. Her little place stood in the way of progress, which meant she’d have to re­locate the Bayou Barbecue. She tore open the envelope, and her gaze landed on four distinct words. “Eminent domain petition granted.”

  Gone.

  Just like that. Her hard work, dedication and years of working with some of the best chefs in New Orleans had dissipated like a whiff of hickory smoke because the boat-launch site on her land was a better match for the major hotelier. Her lake access was about to become the property of Carrington Hotels & Inns for a tidy sum to help her launch a new spot, but new spots weren’t

  exactly a given along the waterfront, and real estate had gone sky-high in Grace Haven, New York.

  “Bad news?” Her cousin Kimberly came in through the side door of Josie’s tiny apartment. The three-room living quarters was attached to the Southern-style eatery she’d spent years building, which meant she wasn’t only out of a job. She was also out of a home. “Is that from the county?”

  Josie fought back a wealth of angry words she’d like to say. Clutching the stupid paper, she nodded. “Yup.”

  “Oh, Josie.” Kimberly hugged her, and it felt good to be hugged. “I’m so sorry. Are you sure we can’t continue to fight? Take it further?”

  They’d already gone
the legal route Cruz had recommended, but he’d been honest from the beginning. If the county saw a need for this strip of land to provide the proper spacing for a major player, it’d have Carrington pay fair market value and take the land. End of story. “It’s done.”

  “How long have you got to vacate?”

  “Thirty days.”

  “Thirty days?” Anger darkened Kimberly’s gaze. She was nearly nine months pregnant with her second child, and Josie didn’t want to tip her into labor, but at least a new baby would be a happy end to an otherwise wretched day. “They can’t possibly expect you to take care of moving everything from your home and business and find a new place in thirty days. Can they? That’s preposterous, Josie, even for Southerners.”

  A deep and distinctly Southern drawl interrupted them from the screened door. “It would seem less preposterous had you taken the initial offer six months ago.”

  The women turned. A man stood at the door, mid­thirties. Crazy good-looking. He had an official-­looking folder in his left hand, which meant he was most likely another Carrington Hotels henchman. Kimberly must have sensed the same thing because she folded her arms above the baby bump in total defensive Gallagher posture.

  Josie Gallagher moved forward, determined to save Kimberly from herself. “This is a private meeting, and I’m pretty sure you weren’t invited, sir.”

  The man pointed south. “Carrington Hotels has been nothing but courteous about this whole thing. We approached you personally, and you laughed at our representative, and from what I’ve heard, possibly also shut the door in his face.”

  She’d done exactly that, and she would have done it again if they had reapproached with that number. They’d lowballed the initial offering, hoping she was stupid. She wasn’t. “The original offer was deserving of that, I believe.”

  “It was too low, and I apologize for that,” the man said. He looked honest, but Josie had found out the hard way that honesty should never be taken at face value, and despite this guy’s classic good looks—tall, broad-shouldered, curly light brown hair and blue eyes—she wasn’t going to be fooled this time, either. Or ever again.