Second Chance Romance

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Second Chance Romance Page 19

by Jill Weatherholt


  Jackson released a loud breath. “Well, I’m glad I was at least part of the reason you decided to stay.” He kissed Melanie’s cheek and winked at Phoebe.

  Melanie wanted to keep the other reason between her and God. Their first outing, when Jackson brought her to this magnificent clearing by the river, she felt God’s presence for the first time since the accident. She knew then that God had brought Jackson and his daughter into her life. It was all part of His plan. He was offering her a second chance at happiness. When Jackson had dropped to his knee in the middle of the courthouse and proposed, she knew she’d finally captured her dream.

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed SECOND CHANCE ROMANCE,

  look for these other emotionally gripping

  and wonderful stories

  THE RANCHER’S TEXAS MATCH by Brenda Minton

  LONE STAR DAD by Linda Goodnight

  A FAMILY FOR THE FARMER by Laurel Blount

  Available now from Love Inspired!

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  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE RANCHER’S TEXAS TWINS by Allie Pleiter.

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  Dear Reader,

  Growing up in the suburbs of Washington, DC, one of my favorite areas was the Shenandoah Valley. The beauty of the valley was prevalent year-round, but autumn was always my favorite time to visit. The magnificent colors painted on the Blue Ridge Mountains were a constant reminder of God’s presence in my life.

  In 2015, when I heard about Harlequin’s Blurb to Book competition, I knew this was my opportunity to complete a project I started in 2010 but never finished. Like Melanie, who dreamed of having a family once again, my dream was to write a book.

  God created us to have goals and dreams. The funny thing was, my dream was to write a book, but I never dreamed of having it published. That’s what makes our God such an awesome God. He took my little dream and turned it into a magnificent gift just for me.

  I encourage you all to have dreams; God is listening and He knows your heart.

  I love to hear from readers. You can email me at [email protected] or follow my blog at jillweatherholt.com. I’m also a contributor at inspyromance.com.

  Blessings,

  Jill Weatherholt

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  The Rancher’s Texas Twins

  by Allie Pleiter

  Chapter One

  Gabriel Everett had one job.

  Well, two actually. One was standing in front of him, and the other was nowhere to be found. Spring in Haven, Texas, was shaping up to be one giant mess after another.

  “So you’ll consider it?” he said to the young woman sitting on the Haven Boardinghouse front porch. More like standing, for the pair of little girls at her feet hadn’t let poor Avery Culpepper sit still for very long as he tried to hold a serious conversation. “You’ll stay on just a couple more weeks until the celebration?” Gabe wasn’t much for pleading, but she’d talked of heading back home and there was a lot at stake here. He had no intention of being the failing link in the long chain of events that led to the future success of the Lone Star Cowboy League Boys Ranch.

  “Well,” said Avery, handing a marker to one of her girls, “there’s a reason I didn’t respond to Darcy Hill’s attempts to reach me. I didn’t really want any part of this to begin with. And now, I have to say this isn’t turning out well.” One of the little girls began bickering with the other over the red marker. “I can’t exactly put my life in Tennessee on hold while you all...look out!”

  The box of markers tumbled off the table, covering Gabe’s left boot in a cascade of colors. One of the girls lunged after the spill and careened into Gabe’s shin. Was it Debbie at the table, so Dinah was clinging to his leg? Or the other way around? He couldn’t keep the four-year-old twins straight—did Debbie have the darker hair or did Dinah? Then again, did it really matter which pair of hands was now smearing marker on his jeans?

  “Oh, Dinah, look what you’ve done.” Avery fished in her pocket and pulled out a lint-covered tissue as Debbie began to chatter an explanation—or an excuse. Gabe waved off the suspicious tissue and instead began wiping at the purple streak with his own handkerchief. His housekeeper, Marlene Frank, would have fun trying to get that stain out.

  Avery already sported three similar stains of her own. He’d met this young mother only a handful of times since Darcy had convinced her to come to Haven, but already it stumped him how the poor woman made it through the day with her sanity intact. Kids mostly annoyed him—how did she stand that whining hour after hour? A single mom with twin four-year-olds—that was the very definition of outnumbered in his book.

  Appeal to her practical side, maybe, he thought. “I find it hard to believe you don’t want to know what your grandfather’s will has in store for you. Could be an explanation. Or an apology for the way he wasn’t there for you. Or maybe he’s left you something significant, something you could really use.”

  She blew her chin-length brown hair out of her face with a frustrated huff. “What I could have really used was to have a grandfather in my life. I doubt there are any pleasant surprises in that will, Mr. Everett. And in all honesty, I’m starting not to care.”

  She seemed so weary and bitter, Gabe found himself amazed Darcy had gotten her here at all. “What if it’s enough money to get you well settled with the girls?”

  “Who says I’m not well settled in Tennessee? I have a job, Mr. Everett. I have clients and decorating jobs waiting on my return. We have a house in Dickson. It may not seem like much to a big rancher like you, but it’s the place the girls have known all their lives. I can’t imagine needing whatever is in that will.”

  He noticed she had not mentioned friends or family. And she’d said house not home. Avery Culpepper might not have muc
h, but she surely had her pride. “Please stay,” he said as congenially as he knew how. “I know it’s asking a lot, but lots of boys’ welfare depends on us meeting the requirements of your grandfather’s will. And you’re one of those requirements, even though I know that doesn’t sit well with you.”

  “You’re right. It doesn’t.”

  “Haven’s full of good people. Kind folks I know would help with the girls while you’re here and all.” He was desperate for any argument that would convince the woman not to head back to Tennessee.

  Exhaustion pulled at her pretty features. His mother had worn herself thin trying to raise him all on her own, and there had been only one of him. Almost every memory he held of his mother contained the same bone-tired countenance Avery Culpepper now wore. The pain that singed her brown eyes told him she was feeling alone, used and overwhelmed.

  Could he really blame her for being ready to put the drama of Haven behind her? Her estranged grandfather, Cyrus Culpepper—who was evidently just as ornery on both sides of the grave—had ignored her all her life only to demand her appearance now. Half the town had been on a wild-goose chase to find her and bring her here. And to receive what? So far Cyrus had bequeathed her just a run-down cabin. True to Cyrus, he’d hinted that there might be more. Only how much more—and what—was anybody’s guess until they opened a designated envelope at the seventieth anniversary celebration of the boys ranch a few weeks from now.

  An unusable half an inheritance with a commanded appearance for a mystery other half—that was pure Cyrus. It was just like him to pull some ridiculous stunt as a final goodbye to the town that had put up with his bullheadedness all his life.

  Gabe hated having to plead with this poor young woman. Was Cyrus fool enough to think an inheritance could make up for years of being ignored? At least Gabe had a mom—even if it was a tired one; Avery had been shuttled from foster home to foster home from what he’d heard.

  No, Avery had dozens of reasons not to go along with that old curmudgeon’s ridiculous set of final demands. Only Gabe didn’t have the luxury of her refusal.

  The eyes of the ranch’s residents—problem kids through little fault of their own, just like he’d been—seemed to stare down the back of his neck as if the boys stood behind him. Tomorrow is March 1. The clock was ticking on the March 20th deadline for the anniversary celebration. Keep her here. Do whatever it takes. Grinding his teeth, angry that a coot like Culpepper could still stir up such trouble from the grave, Gabe tried again. “Please say you’ll stay. Just until we get this all straightened out. We’ll all pitch in to make it as easy on you as possible.” He hated that it sounded like he was begging. He hated even more that he was begging.

  “I don’t know.” She didn’t look at all convinced. She was barely paying him any attention with the wiggly girls skipping all around the porch as they played some noisy singsong of a game. Mercy, but there was a good reason he’d never married or started a family. Gabe’s fingers twitched as if he could reach out and grab Cyrus’s spindly neck and shake the endless meanness from the man. “Honestly,” she continued as she grabbed Debbie just before the girls started skipping in circles around each other. “I just can’t see how...”

  The porch door swung open and a very irritated Roz Sackett emerged holding a frilly doll. Oh, no. Roz owned the boardinghouse, and her doll collection was her pride and joy. Everyone in town knew it. Everyone also knew Roz was not a woman known for grace or patience. One look at the colored smears on the doll’s china face told Gabe that Roz had reached the end of her already-short fuse.

  “Miss Avery,” the innkeeper began in a clipped tone, “I’ve told you more than once to keep those girls away from my collection.”

  At the sight of what was evidently her handiwork, Dinah left her skipping to head over toward the delicate doll. “She’s pretty. Can I hold her?” Gabe grabbed the girl before she could reach her target. Nobody dared mess with Roz’s precious doll collection—but Debbie and Dinah didn’t know that.

  Debbie, not to be bested by her sister, squealed, “Me first!” and darted around the table, rocking it and sending more markers rolling out over the porch floor.

  Roz cried out in alarm, holding the doll above her head as if the thing was in mortal danger. While still holding Dinah by one elbow, Gabe managed to wedge a leg in front of Debbie. He’d hoped to simply impede her progress, but ended up tripping her instead, which sent her to the porch floor in tears. Naturally, Dinah began to cry, as well.

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Sackett,” Avery called over the increasing wails as she ducked around Gabe to reach Dinah and pick up Debbie. “It won’t happen again.”

  “Oh, yes, it will,” countered Roz as she continued to hold up the doll, out of little hands’ reach. “Bless your heart, child, I know you’ve got your hands full, but this simply won’t work. They’re too rambunctious.” Given everything that had just happened, Gabe found himself surprised Roz hadn’t called the girls flat-out wild. “I’m at my wit’s end!” the innkeeper declared, throwing up her free hand.

  She wasn’t wrong. The girls were wild. That wasn’t necessarily Avery’s fault. From what Gabe knew about four-year-olds—which was next to nothing since the youngest guests of the boys ranch were in first grade—preschoolers didn’t come any other way but rambunctious.

  Avery’s eyes went narrow with hurt. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to head back to Dickson.”

  Gabe threw Roz a look he hoped said “we can’t let her leave.” The Blue Bonnet Inn—the only other place in Haven to stay—was full up and, as fancy as it was, would be no place for these youngsters.

  Roz threw back an exasperated glare. “Well, I’m sorry to say it, but you can’t stay here.” She didn’t look one bit sorry to have said it. Avery Culpepper didn’t need anyone handing her reasons to leave. Didn’t Roz realize half the town had been working toward meeting Culpepper’s absurd ultimatums—which meant finding Avery and keeping her here—since October?

  Do something. Anything. It jumped out of his mouth before he had even a moment to think better of it, the foolish notion of a desperate man. “You don’t need to head back. You can come stay at Five Rocks.”

  Roz Sackett’s eyebrows nearly popped through her hairline at the offer. If a face could shout impropriety for no good reason, it was hers.

  “With me and Jethro and Marlene,” he clarified immediately, adjusting his hat, which had gone askew in the mayhem. “My housekeeper and her husband live on my ranch with me, remember?”

  “Stay with you?” Avery looked shocked. She ought to. He was still shocked he’d made the offer at all.

  “No,” Gabe clarified a second time, “with me, my housekeeper and her husband.” When both Avery and Mrs. Sackett still stared at him, he reached down and began gathering the markers off the floor. “If nothing else, four adults might give you a fighting chance against these two.”

  Debbie reached over and began picking up markers herself, but ended up knocking Gabe’s hat off his head.

  They all fell into stunned silence. No one, especially not a preschooler, knocked a cowboy’s hat off his head. Gabe felt his face tighten into a frustrated scowl before he could stop it. Debbie, cued by his frown, caught on to the grievous nature of what she’d just done. Her bitty blue eyes went wide, the tiny pink lip below them jutted and quivered, and she dissolved once again into tears.

  Gabriel Everett now added host to his list of demanding jobs—and it was the one that just might be the death of him.

  * * *

  Avery was sure she looked exasperated. Mostly because she was. Some days it felt like she hadn’t known a moment’s peace since Danny left.

  No one should have to raise two precious little girls on her own. Debbie and Dinah should know their father, should see every day how much daddies loved mommies. How could any man she had been so sure she loved be capa
ble of what Danny had done? Just up and decide that two children at once were too much? Had all his “faith” been false? He’d never been overly free with affection, but lately she wondered if he’d ever really loved her at all. Did the man ever give a thought to his dear daughters and how they fared?

  Only her pride made her go on about needing to get back to Tennessee. Dickson was where she lived, where she was trying to make a life without Danny, but the truth was, precious little was back there. A house, a smattering of clients, some acquaintances, but no true friends.

  Not that she’d admit any of that to anyone here. Successful businesswomen didn’t up and leave their enterprises for weeks at a time to help with some charity case. She’d end up a charity case herself if she kept that up. Every eye in Haven seemed to stare at her in either expectation or suspicion. And as for the whole town being ready to help, she didn’t much believe that. Not after Mrs. Sackett’s persnickety scrutiny.

  “Avery?” Gabe was clearly expecting an answer to his startlingly generous offer. It was clear he would do anything to get her to stay, and the pressure of that choked any reply.

  Life had dropped too many emotional bombs since her arrival here to let her think clearly. Coming to Haven had felt like stepping into a crammed-full kind of chaos. Really, who ever discovers they’ve been impersonated? Some gold-digging woman had actually come here earlier claiming to be her. Clearly, she was supposed to be someone important. The whole town was in an uproar over the fate of her grandfather Cyrus’s estate. It had been set—along with a mountain of stipulations, one of which included her presence—to become the new home of a ranch for troubled boys. The huge house went to a worthy cause, while she, evidently his only surviving relative, got a run-down cabin. Everyone wanted something from her despite the fact that she was just trying to hold her life together. Someone important? Ha! The number of nights she fell into bed exhausted and near tears ought to be illegal.

 

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