Claiming The One (Meadowview Heat 3; The Meadowview Series 3)

by Rochelle French

  “What do you mean?” Liz asked. She gazed at Abbie, a girl so much like her but so different and unique. A girl who had been loved by so many all her life, whether she’d known it or not.

  Abbie flashed her an open, glittery-eyed smile, full of life and love and promise. She pointed to the word painted on the wall next to her and said, “My middle name is Hope.”

  The next few days were a flurry of activity. Abbie had spent the night in the hospital, under observation. She’d suffered a bad sprain to her ankle, and because of the smoke inhalation, the doctor had told her to rest her lungs—advice she promptly ignored the minute she was handed a cell phone, calling a “gazillion” friends.

  Apparently stealing a car, running halfway across the country, almost getting smashed by a tree felled by lightning, and nearly burning alive in a forest fire on her quest to find her birth parents made for one heck of a teenager’s fascinating tale.

  Darrin McHale had arranged to meet Abbie, Hunter, and Liz back in Denver. Gerald had offered his private plane and pilot to Liz and Hunter. They’d accompanied Abbie home to Colorado the next day, handing her off to a grateful though furious Darrin and terribly worried and thoroughly pregnant Ember.

  Liz and Hunter had stayed overnight at the McHale’s home, testing the waters between all five of them. Darrin and Ember impressed Liz with how they handled a willful and dramatic Abbie. Liz had been pleased and relieved to learn how much Darrin and his first wife had longed for Abbie, how grateful they’d been to Liz and Hunter for giving them the ultimate gift: a gift of life—Abbie Hope McHale.

  Darrin had also unknowingly given Liz an additional gift—the knowledge that at least some of the money Tina had taken had indeed gone to medical bills. That Tina had spent the rest on Liz’s college education had pleased Darrin, a college professor himself. Liz had been able to forgive her mother somewhat for the decisions she’d made. Hunter had been right: Tina, in her inept way, had tried to be a good mother to Liz.

  Yet during the visit to the hospital, the trip to and from the McHale’s, the long hours spent together, Hunter said barely a word to Liz.

  Her heart ached, both with the new sensation of opening herself to the vulnerability of love and loss by allowing Abbie into her life, but also with the pain of losing Hunter all over again. What they’d shared together had been profound, but it had also been fleeting, Liz realized.

  After saying goodbye to Hunter on the tarmac of the Meadowview airport, Liz had gone home to 35 Nightingale Lane and tucked herself into bed, indulging in a long and gut-wrenching cry. She had awoken refreshed and almost hopeful, even as her heart twisted inside.

  She shoved the sleeves of her cotton dress up her arms and leaned her elbows against the countertop in a familiar stance, staring out the window to the back yard. The scent of percolating coffee and a toasted bagel triggered her taste buds. Hope winged inside her, a feeling long dormant. But before she could begin her reborn life, wandering down whatever path fate chose for her, no longer pretending, she needed to close the chapter of the book that held the first half of her life.

  If Hunter couldn’t love her the way she loved him, she needed to let him go. But she hadn’t a clue how.

  She poured a steaming mug of coffee and dumped a shitload of Holiday Bliss creamer in until the contents turned almost milky white. Cupping the warmth in her hands, she stepped into the back yard, letting the screen door slam shut behind her with a long, piercing squeak. She put oiling the screen door hinges on her mental to-do list.

  Drawn to the meadow, she followed the secret deer path, ducking under branches still dripping from the rain, sucking in deep breaths of crisp, clean air. At the meadow, she placed the cup of coffee on a tree stump and turned to the sun, face tilted up, arms outstretched.

  “Praying to the sun god?”

  Hunter.

  Her heart lurched, fear and longing doing battle within her. She’d come to the meadow to find peace, to dig up enough resolve to let him go. What was Hunter doing invading her sanctuary? “Why the hell are you here?” she snapped, refusing to turn around.

  He stepped closer and placed his hands on her shoulders. She jumped at the touch. “As I’ve said before, you do have quite a way of making me feel welcome,” he said.

  She forced the tension out of her body, her shoulders sagging under his hands. Her stomach quivered—fear, she recognized. But fear of what? Of rejection?

  “I need to know, Hunter,” she said, tucking her chin to her chest and wrapping her arms around her stomach. “Why are you here?”

  Behind her he sighed, and let his hands slide down her arms, touching the tips of her fingers with his, curving his chest around her back. “I followed you.”

  “But why?” she pressed.

  “Because I’m a guy.”

  She pulled away, turned, and faced him. He stood with a hip cocked to the side. “Um…I think we’ve already established that fact. A long time ago, if I recall. You showed me yours and I showed you mine out behind the preschool sandbox.”

  He flashed a guarded grin and looked off in the distance over her shoulder. The blue of his Oxford shirt matched the penetrating blue of his eyes. He shoved one hand deep into the front pocket of his jeans. The other hand he ran lightly up her arm. But he still wouldn’t hold her gaze, she noticed.

  “I meant, I’m a guy and therefore a little clueless about my…you know…”

  “About your what?”

  He cleared his throat. “Uh, my feelings.” He slid his other hand behind her neck, entwining his fingers in the long strands of her hair.

  She melted a little, her hips swaying toward his. An unconscious reaction to his hands fiddling about at the back of her neck, maybe. Or to his breath, warm and sweet, filling the space between them. Was he playing a game with her? Tempting her with what she couldn’t have?

  “Hunter—”

  “Why’d you dump him?” he interrupted. He dropped his gaze to her throat.

  “Gerald?” She blew out a long, slow breath. “He’s a friend, so I can’t share his secrets, but I can tell you that he didn’t propose out of love. He didn’t want to marry me—he wanted a fake wife, and in creating Elizabeth Picard, we found someone to fit the image he wanted to project. And I didn’t want to marry him—I wanted the position being his wife would bring.”

  “I knew you didn’t love him,” Hunter said. “But he had money. Position. You could have had all those things if you’d stayed with him.”

  She shook her head. “I ended things with him because I was only pretending. Because I wasn’t me with him.”

  Hunter’s hands stilled. She saw him stiffen.

  “Mostly, I ended things because I could no longer live a life without love,” she whispered, tears pricking at the back of her eyes. She loved him. She always had, and always would.

  But did he? Did Hunter love her in return?

  His gaze shifted but wouldn’t meet hers. Her shoulders sagged as she slowly deflated.

  Hunter’s hands moved then, sliding forward to cradle her face as he slanted his mouth over hers.

  Like a lightning bolt left over from the storm from days ago, the kiss hit her with electric intensity. Her hands fisted against his chest, bunching his shirt. The heat of his mouth, of his tongue, against and in and on hers swept her up as if she were in a heady updraft of sensation.

  Hunter deepened the kiss and her knees went weak, threatening to buckle under her as she indulged in the taste that was pure Hunter. One of his hands left her face to reach behind her. He pulled her hips to him, pressed her body firmly against his, and held her there. A low hum sounded in the back of her throat and Hunter responded by sweeping his tongue deep into her mouth.

  Her knees buckled then and she slid, but he caught her, holding her tight, staring deep into her eyes. Fear nudged into her consciousness. “Is this your way of saying goodbye?” she asked, her voice small. She grew frustrated with herself for even saying the words. She didn’t want this to be the end
. She wanted to fight.

  “I thought it was my way of saying—”

  She wouldn’t let him finish. She clapped a hand to his mouth, and his surprised and amused eyes danced.

  “I have something to say to you, Hunter, and you need to listen.” She narrowed her eyes at him and he nodded. Her stomach fluttered with fear and cold raced through her veins. Could she do this? Could she open herself up one more time?

  Hunter blinked, waiting, and Liz knew. Of course she could risk everything. Of course she could. If he walked away, at least she would have spoken her truth, and not hidden behind a wall of artifice and pretense.

  “I love you,” she said, fighting against the emotion that threatened to spill. “I’ve loved you since I was fourteen. And before that, I loved you in the way snot-nosed kids love each other. You’re Romeo to my Juliet. But I don’t want the ending Shakespeare gave those two. This”—she gestured to the meadow, the creek, to them—“this needs to be a romance, not a tragedy. A long, long time ago, you promised me that. I can’t let you go. I won’t let you go. Not again.”

  “Can I talk now?” Hunter asked, his voice muffled behind her palm. Slowly, she lowered her hand. But not before Hunter sneaked a kiss on her fingertips.

  “What I was trying to say earlier when I told you I was a typical guy, clueless about my feelings, was that I finally figured something out.”

  She waited, hoping, but unable to look at him. If he was going to tell her it was over, she could bear the news, but she wasn’t a masochist—she couldn’t watch him as he voiced his rejection. Overhead one thin cloud, light and airy, drifted across the sky.

  He kissed the tip of her nose. She couldn’t help it—she looked at his face. His eyes held a warmth and brightness that sparkled like the early morning sun.

  “I hated you for so many years, but that hate masked the fact that I still loved you. Always have. And when I needed you to help me with Abbie and you wouldn’t, well…”

  “You hated me even more,” she guessed.

  “No,” he said, his eyebrows shooting upward. “Well, yeah, I was mad that you didn’t want to help, but then I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And I realized I’d fallen in love with you once more. But you didn’t want me.”

  She shook her head briskly. “No, I was scared. Too scared to follow my own heart.”

  “Yeah.” He grazed her jaw line with the knuckles of his hand. “I got that.”

  “But you would hardly talk to me when we brought Abbie back. I thought…I mean…”

  His jaw lifted, a sharp and quick motion. “I thought you were still with Gerald.” He waved a hand, cutting off her words before she could speak. “I know you dumped him when I was out looking for Abbie. Michelle and Dan told me. But until this morning, I wasn’t sure how serious you were about ending that part of your life. How serious you were about being yourself again.”

  She gave him a questioning look. “I don’t understand. What happened this morning?”

  He smiled. “Michelle called. She told me you took 35 Nightingale Lane off the market. That you were moving back to Meadowview. Back home. I knew then that you were back. You, as in the person I once knew. My Juliet. The person I hoped to spend the rest of my life with.”

  Bubbles of happiness floated through her veins. “You mean…” She couldn’t say the words, couldn’t articulate her thoughts.

  “I mean, welcome back to Meadowview, Liz Pritchard. My Juliet, my Lizzie. Welcome home.”

  He kissed her, adding, “If you want, together we can rewrite Shakespeare.”

  Her heart warmed, bathing her veins with love. She shook her head, a wide smile plastered across her face. “Forget Romeo and Juliet. No more pretending. No more playing roles. We have something far better. We have us.”

  Four years later…

  “Hissy! Hissy, wait for me!” At the Denver High football field, surrounded by a throng of cheering teenagers, a ponytailed four-year-old ran on chubby little legs toward a towering teenager dressed in a blue graduation gown and wearing a mortarboard.

  “Leah is trying to say ‘Sissy,’ but the word always seems to come out ‘Hissy.’” Next to Liz, the soft-spoken Hispanic woman with auburn-streaked hair, Ember, spoke warmly with a soft smile on her face. “Given Abbie’s reputation for massive hissy fits, the name seems to fit. We’re hoping that’s one attribute Abbie won’t pass on to her little sister.”

  Liz smiled in acknowledgment. She’d been the recipient of a few Abbie McHale hissy fits over the years herself. Her attention was caught by a loud laugh. A few feet away, Hunter clapped Darrin McHale on the back. Both men tipped their heads back, shoulders shaking. Most likely laughing over an Abbie story, she thought, a flush of warmth expanding her chest.

  She turned her attention back to Leah and Abbie. Abbie had picked the little girl up in her arms and was swinging her about, much to Leah’s delight.

  Liz’s smile widened when Hunter came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She felt a rush of warmth flow through her chest, the way it always did when her husband touched her.

  After Abbie had shown up in their lives four years ago, much had changed. It had taken a while, and there’d been plenty of rocky moments, but somehow everyone had grown together. Therapy had helped the McHale family—especially Abbie—blend the edges of their family together seamlessly. Hunter and Liz had been welcomed into Abbie’s life, where they perched on the periphery, always in support of Darrin and Ember, but forever there for Abbie.

  For three summers in a row, Abbie had come to stay with them in Meadowview. She spent her time swimming at the river with newfound friends, unsuccessfully begging Hunter to let her ride in the fire truck when he went out on calls, and critiquing with snark Liz’s summer school students’ literature essays.

  “Hey, guys, did you like my speech?” A breathless Abbie dumped a squealing Leah at their feet.

  “I can see why you’re the valedictorian,” Hunter said, ruffling her long red hair. “Brains, beauty, and a great sense of humor.”

  Abbie grinned at him and Liz felt her heart melt, touched by the love in the girl’s eyes. Another second longer and she’d start bawling her eyes out. “Here,” she said quickly, handing Abbie a card.

  “A graduation present?” Abbie said, a grin on her face. She opened the envelope, pulled the card out, and read the front out loud. “To a new beginning…”

  Liz held her breath as Abbie opened the card. The girl’s face went from carefree joy to shock, then amazement. For a moment, it seemed as if time stood still. Then, with trembling fingers, Abbie held up the sonogram.

  “I’m going to have a…” Her eyes went wide, dark pupils in a sea of green.

  Liz nodded. Her voice trembling, she finished the girl’s sentence, saying, “…a baby sister. We’re not far along, but—”

  Abbie’s enveloping hug cut off whatever it was Liz had planned to say. All thoughts flew out of her head when Abbie whispered in her ear, “Oh, Mom,” over and over again.

  And Liz Thorne knew then what her second daughter’s name would be.

  Joy.

  * * *

  * I hope you enjoyed reading Claiming the One! If you had fun during your stay in Meadowview and think others should learn about this quaint and quirky town, please consider taking a moment to leave an honest review, even if it’s just a few words, by going here.

  * Join my mailing list to keep up on all the latest releases and news—and have a chance at some freebies!

  Up next in Meadowview…

  Country-girl Chessie Gibson’s always been a giver. Billionaire Theo Courant’s always been a player. The two of them are opposite in almost every way imaginable. But wow—the chemistry between them is hot! Find out what happens when Theo breaks both wrists and ankles in a snowboarding accident and Chessie’s asked to care for her best friend’s older brother in Tempting the One. Keep turning the pages to read an excerpt from the next book in the Meadowview Heat series!

 
Meadowview: The Meadowview Heat Series: When friends (and enemies) return to the same small town where they grew up, sparks fly! Meet three best friends and their younger sisters (and the girl the boys once protected) and discover what happens when the past becomes the present. The little town of Meadowview will never be the same when love takes center stage!

  Also by Rochelle French

  (by town)

  MEADOWVIEW

  The Meadowview Heat Series

  When friends (and enemies) return to the same small town where they grew up, sparks fly! Meet three best friends and their younger sisters (and the girl the boys once protected) and discover what happens when the past becomes the present. The little town of Meadowview will never be the same when love takes center stage!

  Forever the One (Ethan and Sadie)

  Trusting the One (Lia and Jack)

  Claiming the One (Hunter and Liz)

  Tempting the One (Theo and Chessie)

  The Meadowview Heroes Series

  The quirky town of Meadowview finds itself wrapped up in a whole heap of happy when a few sexy newcomers arrive to challenge the status quo of a by-the-books sheriff, a reluctant artist, and a firefighter headed for destinations unknown. A thieving goat, a missing horse, and a porcupine with a tendency for trouble help make for a rocky and oh so fun path to love.

  Finding the One (Mac and Trudy)

  Always the One (Remy and Coraleen)

  Charming the One (Peter and Neva)

  Treasure the One (coming soon!)

  VINEYARD SPRINGS

  The Vineyard Springs Series

  Welcome to Vineyard Springs, a town where love is always in the air! Sometimes it’s about knowing when NOT to do something, as the heroes and heroines learn in this contemporary romance series.

  What NOT to Do in Bed (Cooper and Victory)

  How NOT to Fake a Fiancé (Oliver and Juliet—2016)