Worse, she’d hurt Brady too. Just the defeated sound of his voice had broken her heart. To say nothing of the way he blamed himself. None of this was his fault. None of it.
Well, she was finally done fighting. She couldn’t live without him anymore. She was a hopeless mess. What else could she do but take her own advice? All she needed was a little courage. She’d dig through those memories and come to grips with her fear.
If he could put his heart on the line like that, surely she could find the strength to face her issues. Maybe medication could alleviate her symptoms, but the root of her problem was still there. It wouldn’t go away on its own. She had to face this once and for all.
She had to trust God with this. With her future. It might not be easy. But even if hard times came, God would get her through them just as He had when she’d lost Aaron.
Now that she’d made up her mind, she couldn’t get home soon enough. She bypassed the sluggish elevator in favor of the stairwell. Her footsteps echoed in the enclosed space, her flats squeaking on the clean, polished floor. She’d been wrong. She’d been a coward. But she’d make it up to him if only he’d have her back.
At the bottom of the stairs she burst through the doors and out into the rain. She ducked her head against the onslaught and didn’t look up until she reached the corner. She was looking both ways when she saw him.
He was standing across the way, under a streetlamp. He stared back at her, his hands tucked into his front pockets, his shoulders hunched against the rain.
Brady. Her heart gave a heavy sigh.
Of their own volition, her feet moved toward him. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the intensity on his face. She was halfway across the street when she broke into a run.
He held his arms out to her, and she fell into him. He wrapped her up in his arms, good and tight, lifting her off the ground.
“Oh, Brady.” Everything broke loose. She sobbed against his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s not you. You’re perfect. You’re wonderful. It’s all me. I’m a mess.”
“Shhh . . . ,” he said against her temple. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”
But it wasn’t. She couldn’t get hold of herself. She’d been hurting so bad, but she’d hurt him too, and that was so much worse. She couldn’t forget the pain in his voice as he’d sought her help on the air. He’d done nothing to deserve this. Only loved her.
Rain fell down her face, mingling with her tears. He gently stroked her back, murmuring words of comfort. But that only made her ache worse. How could he be so tender with her after she’d been so careless with his heart?
“Enough,” he said softly a while later. He set her back on her feet, took her face in his palms, and brushed the dampness with his thumbs. “That’s enough, honey. No more sadness. No more tears. I love you. We’re going to get through this.”
She grabbed his wrists, her vision going blurry. “Oh, Brady, I’m such a mess. You don’t even know.” It was deep inside where nobody could see.
He looked at her with those soulful eyes, his lashes spiky with rain or tears. “Then talk to me. Tell me everything. I’m a bit of a mess too, you know, but we’re in this together, Hope. I’m not going anywhere.”
It was time to come clean. Time to admit her weaknesses. He would love her regardless. She knew it with a surety that bolstered her strength.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you out of the rain.”
Inside the car he turned the engine over and cranked up the heat. He wrapped her in a baby blanket he found behind the seat and settled her in the warmth of his arms.
The rain pounded the roof, and rivulets of water trickled down the windshield. Once she started talking she couldn’t seem to stop. She told him about the fear. The nightmares, the panic attacks. The medication and side effects.
She tried to explain how desperately afraid she’d become of losing him the way she’d lost Aaron. She admitted her close calls with Sam, and her overwhelming fear that she’d cause him harm—how that had only compounded her panic.
“Oh, baby.” He listened. He held her. He murmured sympathetically and dried an unending stream of tears. He didn’t patronize her with advice or suggestions, and she loved him for that. Most of all . . . she just loved him.
She suddenly realized she’d never even said the words. She was finally warm, and the shivering had stopped. He’d been holding her quietly for several minutes, waiting patiently for her to continue. But there was only one thing left to say.
She pulled from his embrace and looked up into eyes that promised her forever. “I love you, Brady. I love you so much. I don’t ever want to lose you.”
“I’m right here, honey. And I love you too. So much.” He brushed her lips with his, once. Twice. Then he deepened the kiss, warming her from the inside out.
She leaned into him, never wanting it to end. Oh, how she’d missed this. Missed him. There were hard times ahead for sure, but he’d be there. That’s who Brady was. Strong and steady.
They’d started with only friendship, but a true and abiding love had grown from there. Friendship on fire. She’d heard the phrase but had never really understood it until now.
A short while later the windows were steamed over, and a pit stop at her apartment was tempting. But no. She wanted her boy. She wanted them all together under the same roof. The way it was supposed to be.
“Let’s go home,” she said against his lips.
He drew back, his eyes searching hers. “Are you sure? I can stay—I’m sure Zoe will keep Sam for the weekend.”
Hope huffed a laugh. “Oh, no way am I waiting another day to get my hands on my little punkin. I’ve missed him so much.”
His mouth curved into a grin. And she could just about drown in the soulful eyes that stared back at her. Oh yeah. She could see herself looking into those eyes for many years to come. Could see herself seeking and finding security in the strength of his embrace. Could see another little punkin or princess in their future if Brady was game. She hoped he was game.
He brushed his thumb over her cheek. His eyes pierced hers, making her heart roll over.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
Epilogue
Hope braked at the stoplight in the heart of Copper Creek. She was supposed to be heading toward Atlanta right now, but she had to see Brady. She couldn’t wait to share her news.
She pulled a tissue from her purse and gave a hearty blow. It had been another rough counseling session with her therapist, a colleague her friend Brianna had recommended. There was nothing easy about digging up your most painful memories, but Hope was making headway, having breakthroughs.
Today she’d had a breakthrough of a different sort. The light turned green, and she accelerated past the brick storefronts and colorful canopies jutting out over the sidewalks.
January had brought colder temperatures and a bit of snow. But the morning sun had already melted it away. She and Brady had made it through the rushed holidays and Sam’s first birthday. Their little guy was walking now and into everything. Climbing on furniture, putting everything into his mouth, and generally scaring the daylights out of both of them. His first word was neither Mama nor Dada, but no. He used it on every occasion.
Hope was still working at WKPC through the week and traveling home on the weekends. It was getting to be a little much. She missed her little family during the week—especially when Sam had visitation with the Parkers on the weekend. Or when she missed a milestone. She’d been in Atlanta when he took his first steps.
They’d had long discussions about her job at the station, but Brady didn’t want her to give up something she loved so much. He was amazing that way.
A few minutes later she turned down the lane that led to his garage, gravel popping under her tires. Her heart thudded in excitement. In anticipation of seeing him. She had to leave soon for Atlanta, but they had a bit of time.
When she reached the barn she braked, and he emerged from the structure, wi
ping his greasy hands on a dirty rag. A frown pulled his brows low over his eyes as she got out of her car.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. When they’d parted this morning, he hadn’t expected to see her until late Friday night.
“Not a single thing.”
“Why’d you come back?” His gaze sharpened on her, and his frown deepened. “You’ve been crying.”
He usually didn’t have to witness the aftermath of her Monday-morning appointments. For that she was grateful. Right now he looked like he wanted to shake her counselor.
She waved away his concern. “It’s just your normal therapy tears. You got a minute?”
“Of course.” When she reached him he put his arms around her. “All the time you need. You want to go in the house? Have a cup of coffee?”
“No, I can’t stay that long.” She leaned back in his arms, grasping his biceps, seeking his eyes. “Brady . . . I know what I want to do. I want to counsel people—like my therapist does. Not in one-hour radio segments. Not five or ten minutes with an anonymous caller. I want to counsel all day long. Give people real help. Real hope.”
His eyes smiled just before the corners of his lips ticked up. “Sweetheart. That’s wonderful.”
She gave her head a fervent shake. “Before you jump on board, you should know . . . It’ll mean more school. I’ll need my doctorate, and after that comes a bunch of supervised hours of practice and an exam that’ll probably have me on the crazy train for months.”
He gave a mirthful smile, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I say, all aboard.”
“I don’t know if you know what you’re signing up for here. This could take a long time, Brady. We need to give it some thought. It’ll have a big impact on all of us.”
He gave her a long, steady look. “I don’t need to think about it. You’ll make a wonderful counselor, Hope. You have such a big heart. And who knows better than you the kind of courage it takes to seek help?”
A shiver ran through her at his insight. She loved him for thinking of that.
“My only concern is, how are you going to fit that into your already busy schedule? Have you considered that?”
“Well . . . yes. That’s another thing. I could take classes in Atlanta during the week. It would take a while to get through them with a full-time job, though. Or . . .” She bit her lip, giving him a sheepish look.
He searched her eyes, hope gleaming there. “Or . . .”
“Do you think we could make it on one income again, Brady? If I quit the station I could get my degree a lot faster. I could always go back to working at the Rusty Nail on weekends—and I’d promise to keep my shoe fetish under control.”
A wide grin split his face, and he tightened his arms around her. “You don’t need to work weekends if you don’t want to. We’ll do just fine. I’m all for having you home again. I miss you when you’re gone, Hope.”
“Are you sure? Because going down to one income, giving up my paycheck will be a huge—”
He placed a finger over her mouth and gave her a pointed look. “Blessing.”
She tilted her head and studied him. He was a beautiful man, inside and out. He was so supportive. He’d hardly complained about all her traveling even though she knew it placed a big burden on him.
She grabbed his finger, kissing it. “You’re pretty wonderful, you know that?”
His countenance grew serious. “I only have one serious reservation about this new plan of yours.”
If it wasn’t the money, she had no idea what the holdback was. She shook her head. “What is it?”
His eyes tightened in a wince. “Am I going to have to call you Dr. Collins? Because I’m not sure I could do that.”
She quirked a saucy brow. “Of course not. Dr. Hope will do just fine.”
A chuckle broke loose, low and delicious, and his gaze roved over her face like he loved her or something. “I think I can manage that.”
“Oh yeah?” She pressed closer, delighting at how quickly all amusement slid from his face. When she had his full attention she laid a long, slow kiss on him.
By the time Hope pulled away her lungs were empty, but her heart was full to the brim. She took him in, reveling in his adoring gaze, in the sweet fall of his breath on her lips. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve his love, but she was going to make sure he didn’t regret giving it.
“You know what, Collins?” she whispered, her eyes piercing his. “You’ve gone and made all my dreams come true.”
His eyes softened, his lips turning up just an instant before he claimed her mouth again, his kiss filled with promises she knew he would keep.
Discussion Questions
1. Who was your favorite character? Why?
2. What was your favorite scene in the book? Why?
3. How did Hope’s loss of her high school sweetheart affect her ability to love again? Do you think such a reaction is realistic? Have you ever been afraid to love someone?
4. Back in high school Hope planned her own future around Aaron’s. How were you feeling when she agreed to marry Brady, even though she thought she’d have to give up her dream job? Have you ever made such a choice?
5. Discuss the role of faith when dealing with issues of fear. Do you struggle with fear? How have you overcome it?
6. When Hope realized she’d fallen in love with Brady, she began to deal with severe anxiety. She knew she needed therapy but was reluctant to dig up her painful past. Have you ever known you needed help and lacked the courage to seek it? What advice would you give someone in that situation?
7. Do you think Brady treated April, his biological mother, fairly? Do you think he should’ve been more or less accepting of her when she returned to town?
8. Brady never quite felt like he belonged in the family that adopted him. Why do you think that is? Do you think his adoptive family contributed to that? Do you think his biological mom’s disruption in his life played a role? Have you ever felt as if you didn’t quite belong?
9. Brady felt as if he’d been deserted by all the women in his life. Have you ever felt abandoned? How did it affect you?
10. If you could call in to Hope’s radio program, Living with Hope, what question would you ask her? If you could host your own radio program, what would the subject be and what would you call it?
Acknowledgments
Writing a book is a team effort, and I’m so grateful for the fabulous team at HarperCollins Christian Fiction, led by publisher Amanda Bostic: Jocelyn Bailey, Matt Bray, Kimberly Carlton, Allison Carter, Paul Fisher, Kristen Golden, Kayleigh Hines, Jodi Hughes, Karli Jackson, Becky Monds, and Kristen Ingebretson.
Thanks especially to my editor, Karli Jackson, for her insight and inspiration. I’m infinitely grateful to editor LB Norton, who saves me from countless errors and always makes me look so much better than I am.
I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Christopher A. Flowers, Esq., of Smith and Flowers Law, P.C. He generously answered my numerous—and I do mean numerous—questions about family law in Georgia and was kind enough to read the court scenes for accuracy. Thank you also to Mandy Fehman and DJ Melissa Montana of Star 88.3 for all your help with the radio aspects of the story. Any errors that made it to print are mine alone.
Author Colleen Coble is my first reader. Thank you, friend! Writing wouldn’t be nearly as much fun without you!
I’m grateful to my agent, Karen Solem, who’s able to somehow make sense of the legal garble of contracts and, even more amazing, help me understand it.
Kevin, my husband of twenty-nine years, has been a wonderful support. Thank you, honey! I’m so glad to be doing life with you. To my kiddos, Justin, Hannah, Chad, and Trevor: You make life an adventure! It’s so fun watching you step boldly into adulthood. Love you all!
Lastly, thank you, friend, for letting me share this story with you. I wouldn’t be doing this without you! I enjoy connecting with friends on my Facebook page, www.facebook.com/authordenisehunter. Please pop over and
say hello. Visit my website at the link www.DeniseHunterBooks.com or just drop me a note at [email protected]. I’d love to hear from you!
About the Author
Photo by Neal Bruns
Denise Hunter is the internationally published bestselling author of more than thirty books, including A December Bride and The Convenient Groom, which have been adapted into original Hallmark Channel movies. She has won The Holt Medallion Award, The Reader’s Choice Award, The Carol Award, and the The Foreword Book of the Year Award and is a RITA finalist. When Denise isn’t orchestrating love lives on the written page, she enjoys traveling with her family, drinking green tea, and playing drums. Denise makes her home in Indiana, where she and her husband are currently enjoying an empty nest.
DeniseHunterBooks.com
Facebook: authordenisehunter
Twitter: @DeniseAHunter
Honeysuckle Dreams Page 25