Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Praise for Margo Hoornstra and…
Dedication
Other Titles by Margo Hoornstra
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Night Stars and Mourning Doves
by
Margo Hoornstra
Dearly Beloved Series
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Night Stars and Mourning Doves
COPYRIGHT © 2013 by Margo Hoornstra
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Tina Lynn Stout
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Last Rose of Summer Edition, 2013
Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-797-7
Dearly Beloved Series
Published in the United States of America
Praise for Margo Hoornstra and…
GLAD TIDINGS, NEXT TUESDAY AT TWO, and
TO BE, OR NOT:
“Margo Hoornstra is talented with a capital "T"!!! I totally recommend...Ms. Hoornstra's stories. These stories are the perfect tellings of second chances and romance mixed with heartache and forgiveness. All are 5 Book Worthy, and captured me completely. I am now a forever fan of Ms. Hoornstra's work! I can't wait to see what she has in store for old and new fans.”
~Reviews by Molly
~*~
GLAD TIDINGS: “The romance is touching, melancholy and sweet and her readers will feel each emotion that her characters live through. Her love scenes are sensual and sexy, but full of sweet romance. Kudos to you Ms. Hoornstra for one incredible romantic ride.”
~The Long and Short Reviews (4 Books)
~*~
“Great job Ms. Hoornstra! You have made a first time reader a major fan. I highly recommend NEXT TUESDAY AT TWO.”
~The Long and Short Reviews (4.5 Books)
~*~
TO BE, OR NOT: “This is a very well written story of love lost and found again. The author does a great job of describing life in a small town with the added appeal of the atmosphere surrounding the workings of a minor league baseball team.”
~The Romance Studio (4 Hearts)
Dedication
To my true sister Karen Hoornstra DeVerna.
For support, for enthusiasm, for triumph.
You inspire me.
Other Titles by Margo Hoornstra
HONORABLE INTENTIONS
Samantha Wells is the last person single father Chase Canfield wants to chaperone his daughter. Not the beautiful stranger who came on to him with the promise of unfulfilled passion.
GLAD TIDINGS (Class of ’85)
Hospital CEO Jake Holbrook and physician Bethany Thomas confront their clashing philosophies to patient care. As the holidays near, she unknowingly betrays him and puts his job on the line.
NEXT TUESDAY AT TWO (Class of ’85)
Not for one minute can Blane Weston enjoy the trip back to her past when Matt Durand is so determined to dictate her future.
TO BE, OR NOT (Class of ’85)
As scandals of the past and present converge, can Barry and Amanda get beyond their differences to find their second chance at love?
Short Stories
All On Her Own
Forgotten Alliance
Grandma’s Friends
Happily Ever After
More Than A Memory
Oh, So Right
When The World Is Right
*A Nice Change of Pace
*Chance of Snow
*May Become Permanent
*FREE READS
All available at www.thewildrosepress.com
Chapter One
“Daddy. Where do stars live in the daytime?”
Eric Matthews glanced down at the small head nestled against his chest and swallowed. At four, his son’s questions about the world were endless. Not to mention at times a challenge to answer.
“Stars live in the sky all the time,” he began softly as the fan in his parents’ living room whirred against the early morning heat of summer. “It’s only after the sun goes down and the sky gets dark that we can see them.”
“Does Mommy live with the stars?”
Pulling the warmth of his son nearer, he shut his eyes. It had been a year since Jan died—along with their little girl—from complications after a miscarriage when she was six months along.
“She does now.” He pushed the words around the familiar ache that had become a permanent fixture by his heart.
With his son tucked close, he shuddered at the cruel reality of his loss. Jan was considered an older mother when she carried and delivered Jay as it was. They were advised about the risks of trying for another child, but his wife insisted and he relented. Something he never should have done.
“Can we go outside tonight and see her?”
Eric opened his mouth to reply but could only haul in a gasp of frustration. His heart squeezed. “Mommy doesn’t live at a place where you can see her exactly.”
Across the room, his father rustled the morning paper to the next page. Eric glanced that way for guidance but got only sympathy reflected on the older man’s face.
If losing his wife and unborn daughter hadn’t been enough to turn his world upside down. Three months later the police department where he’d worked for fifteen years dissolved under massive budget cuts, throwing him out of a job.
Unemployment was a blessing at first, one that gave him precious time to spend with Jay. But, the blessing soon turned to a nightmare as efforts to find another job met with failure upon failure. No job meant too much time on his hands to think. Thinking led to memories of Jan and reminders of his loss.
After too long without steady income, he had no choice but to move in with his parents. Although staying here wasn’t ideal for Eric, it was the best possible solution for Jay.
“But you said Mommy lived with the stars.”
He cleared his throat. “She does. But so far away, you can’t see her the way you used to. Like you can see me and Grandpa right now.”
Brown eyes, Jan’s eyes, stared back at him. “Then how can we see her?”
“Her light, Jay.” Sid Matthews spoke up. “You see her light all around you.”
“Oh.” The short reply held unqualified acceptance.
Eric pushed back the ever present tears as he cast his father a grateful look. “That’s right,” he whispered and brushed a kiss on top of the precious little head. “We can always see her light.”
“And there’s lots more light in the daytime too.” Jay sat up, eyes wide. “That means Mommy’s with us all the time.”
“All the time.” Eric couldn�
�t help but smile. His son’s youthful mind would fill in the blanks the adults in his world were unable to provide.
“Look at that, Jay.” In need of a diversion, he motioned out the front picture window. “Two mourning doves over there on the light pole. See them?”
The boy turned to crane his neck. “They’re pretty.”
“Yeah. They are.”
As the birds greeted each other with loving nudges, Eric’s chest tightened again. Lucky things. Not a care in the world except being together.
“Do you want Grandma to take you upstairs to get dressed, sweetheart?”
Eric looked up as his mother entered the room and didn’t protest when Jay jumped off the couch.
“Stars go to bed in the daytime, Gramma.” The child’s voice was matter-of-fact as he took her hand.
“They do, sweetheart? Isn’t that nice,” she replied before they disappeared around the corner and down the hallway.
“I hope we aren’t becoming a pain for her, me and Jay living here.”
His father looked up from the paper he’d gone back to reading. “If your mother doesn’t like something, she’ll tell you.” He chuckled as he collapsed the daily into his lap. “Believe me, she will.”
“You’re right there,” Eric agreed. Iris Matthews was known for speaking her mind when she thought it was warranted, especially in matters concerning her offspring. 'You need to go on for Jay.' It was the second thing she told him when he arrived on her doorstep, heartbroken and hopeless. 'You will get through this and learn to enjoy life again. Maybe find someone to share your future.'
That had been her opening promise but Eric hadn’t had the heart to tell her how very wrong she was.
“Anyway, you have the new job now.” His father’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Starts next week, right?”
“And Jay’s going to daycare for much of my work week,” Eric added. “Though Ma protested at first, she gave in when I agreed to enroll him in the one she suggested.”
“So there you go. You’re getting on your feet.”
“Jay says he ‘so wants to play with the kids’ as he puts it. He’s really looking forward to going.”
Me, on the other hand, not so much.
“The contractor mentioned the silver maple by the side yard has to be trimmed back.” His father changed the subject as easily as he’d been turning the pages of his newspaper. “Says the upper branches will end up in the middle of the roof on the new addition if we don’t.”
“Are you sure you want to go ahead with all this, Dad?”
“Why not?”
“Remodeling your home to accommodate Jay and me. Isn’t that a little extreme?”
Lips pursed, he shook his head. “Your mother and I have talked about adding on for years. Anyway, whatever we put into this house should increase its value eventually.” Setting aside the paper once and for all, his expression mellowed as he regarded his son. “Helping you out is helping us out.”
“It’s nice to hear you say that. And I want you to know I do appreciate what you’re doing for us. Especially Jay.”
“Losing your mother at any age is tough,” he replied as he stood. “It’s gotta be especially devastating when you’re as young as my grandson. He still needs someone to care for him like a mother, and Iris is more than up to the task.”
“She is that,” Eric began, then made himself quit talking.
Hard to admit, but he wanted someone to care for him, or at least listen when he needed them to. It wasn’t easy to look for a woman when you’re mortally injured and still require time to heal. Right now, it seemed all the time in the world would never make him whole again.
“Whatever it takes for you and Jay. We’re here.” The hand on Eric’s shoulder gave an affectionate squeeze. “I’m going outside to see about that tree.”
“I’ll be out as soon as I put on my shoes.”
As his father left through the front door, Eric walked into the kitchen on his way to the back entrance.
Jay sat at one end of the oval shaped oak table wearing his favorite T-shirt, the red one with a cartoon inspired race car on its front. His grandmother bustled nearby.
“Let me do that,” Eric told her. “You sit and I’ll bring you a cup of coffee or something.”
She waved a spoon in a shooing motion. “Don’t be silly. What else would I do?”
“I don’t know. You must be busy with Chris getting married in a few weeks.”
“Those arrangements are coming along just fine with very little help from me. Anyway, you know what they say. The only job the mother of the groom has is to wear beige and keep her mouth shut.”
“I’ve met Angela. She certainly doesn’t seem like the bridezilla type.”
In fact, in Eric’s mind the woman his younger brother had chosen to spend his life with had all the qualities he’d once sought in a wife.
“She’s as far from being that as any bride can get. And I’m kidding about the mother of the groom stuff.”
“What’s it like working with her mother?”
“I wouldn’t know. Since there is no mother of the bride. Just a sister who flew in recently from somewhere out west, Los Angeles, I think.”
He collected his cross-trainers and sat down at the other end of the table from Jay. “Angela has a sister?”
In place of answering, she addressed her grandson. “Do you want cereal for breakfast, sweetheart?”
“Yeah.”
Eric lifted his head to stare across the table. “Not, yeah, yes. And yes, what?”
The boy looked at him then his grandma. “Yes, please.”
“Nice work,” Eric said and returned to tightening laces.
His mother set a bowl of cereal down in front of Jay then pushed the child’s chair closer to the table. “Angela had us over for dinner to meet her one day last month.” She poured milk on the cereal and set down the spoon she’d been holding. “Orange juice or apple, sweetheart?”
“Apple.” He glanced at both adults. “Please.”
“The sister moved to town shortly after Chris and Angela became engaged, though Angela says there’s no connection between the two events.”
Eric began to tie his second shoe. “What’s her name? The sister.” He had no clue why he wanted details. Curiosity about the family his brother was about to join maybe.
“Elyse. She’s very nice.” For the first time since his arrival in the kitchen, she straightened to look him square in the eye. “Someone you might like to meet, even get to know.”
He stood, too, then couldn’t back up fast enough. His thighs hit the chair he just vacated and knocked it sideways. “I’m sure I’ll meet her eventually.”
Getting to know her, or any woman just now, was flat out of the question. On the off chance he decided someday to care about someone again—which he seriously doubted would ever happen—the pursuit would be on his terms and no one else’s.
“Elyse is the only family Angela has. Both of them have gone out of their way to include me in many of the wedding decisions. They’re being very gracious.”
Eric righted the chair and wished for a gracious way to exit this conversation with his mother who seemed so intent on pushing him back into a social scene he wanted no part of.
'You can’t hole up in here forever,' she advised on what seemed to be a daily basis. 'It’s not fair to either of you.' Then she’d ended with the zinger, 'Especially Jay.'
“I’ll get back into the swing of things eventually.” He spoke up as if the imagined conversation actually took place.
“I’m sure you will.”
“As far as the wedding party, I know all the groomsmen, myself included as best man. Jay as ring bearer.”
“Yes, you do.” She replaced the half gallon of milk to the refrigerator door she eased shut.
“And Ginger, one of her bridesmaids. She’s married to Randy Watts. We hung around together in high school. I’m pretty much up to speed.”
“By the way
. Elyse will also serve as her sister’s matron of honor.”
Jay looked up from his latest spoonful of cereal and milk. “What’s that, Gramma? A matron honor?”
“That’s someone, a lady, who stands up as a helper for the bride at a wedding ceremony. A lady who’s already been married herself.”
The explanation entered Eric’s brain where it began to glow with the brightness of an incandescent bulb.
Married! As in out of circulation, taken, spoken for. Exactly how he preferred individuals of the opposite sex who entered the periphery of his current existence. Unavailable!
He glanced up to see his mother watching him and figured he’d better say something. “That’s nice, but right now—”
“Why you son of a—!” A continued string of harshly spoken expletives shot up from the side yard and into the opened window above the sink. “I just—” Another colorful tirade was followed by a cry of alarm, the sharp rustling of leaves.
Thud.
Headed for the back door, Eric broke into a run. As fast as he was going, he couldn’t move fast enough toward what had become unintelligible mutters. Rounding one corner of the house, he jerked to a stop. His father lay flat on his back at the foot of the silver maple. In its branches above his head, a cross-cut saw dangled from a partially cut limb. Before Eric could reach him, he righted himself to a sitting position then raised his eyes and shook his fist.
“Stupid piece of junk. You’re supposed to cut through wood. Not get stuck in it.”
“Dad.” Eric stepped over some already downed branches to help his father to his feet. “The contractor said he’d trim what needed to be out of the way for fifty bucks with a chain saw.” He pointed up at the tool still securely in the tree. “That antique belongs on a wall somewhere for decoration.”
The older man pulled away to stand alone. “I planted this tree. I guess I have a right to cut it down.”
“You’re not cutting it down, Dad,” Eric reminded him. “Just trimming it back a little to make room for the addition to the house.”
Night Stars and Mourning Doves (Dearly Beloved) Page 1