Love Inspired August 2014 – Bundle 1 of 2

by Ruth Logan Herne, Allie Pleiter

  She didn’t look happy. “Did I say something funny?”

  “No. Why?”

  “You were grinning,” she said haughtily, tilting her cute little nose in the air. “I’m totally serious about this. You should be, too.”

  She’d been serious about everything when they were growing up, too, he recalled grimly. Always studying, never allowing anyone to discover if she had a lighter side. Chilled by her frosty glare, Paul decided that despite the smile she’d given him earlier, she hadn’t changed all that much. Not that it mattered to him either way. The only approval he needed from her was financial.

  When Boyd ambled over to say hello to her, Paul warned, “Not now, boy. The lady has work to do.”

  To his amazement, she crouched down and offered a delicate hand to the lumbering hound. “Oh, I can take a break. Boyd, is it?”

  The big oaf woofed at her and collapsed onto his side in a shameless plea for a belly rub. With a quick laugh, she obliged. “There’s a good boy. How did you end up here, anyway?”

  “You mean, with me?” Paul poked a little fun at himself, hoping to share in her suddenly generous mood. “He wandered into the logging camp I was working at, half-starved but friendly as could be. I shared a cheeseburger with him, and here we are.”

  She gazed up at him with something he’d never expected to see from her in a million years: respect. “You saved his life. That’s amazing.”

  Actually, Boyd had done more for Paul than the other way around, but he wasn’t comfortable telling her that. Instead, he shrugged. “He’s a great dog, and he deserved a chance.”

  “But you’re the one who gave it to him,” she pressed, standing to look Paul squarely in the eye. He couldn’t imagine what might be going through that pretty head of hers right now, but he was fairly certain he was better off not knowing. In his experience, once you assumed you could determine what a woman was thinking, it was a sure sign you were headed for trouble.

  Big trouble.

  Hoping to appear nonchalant, he folded his arms and leaned against a support post. “So, any ideas for what I should claim I’m gonna do with that back room?”

  After a moment, she replied, “It should be something that generates revenue aside from the furniture business. The idea is to broaden your appeal and be less at the mercy of the outside retail market. An area for woodworking classes or a gift shop that sells specialty items people can only get here or on your website, something like that.”

  “Huh. I’ve done a lotta things in my life, but I’m not much of a teacher, and I wouldn’t even know where to start designing a website.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” she said, “what have you been doing?”

  “Let’s see. When I was in Oklahoma, I worked in the oil fields. In Missouri, I did some long-haul trucking. In Colorado, I worked on an alpaca farm.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. Word of advice—they might look cute, but they’re nasty when you rile ’em.” That got him a flicker of a grin, and he was pretty proud of himself. Until she gave him one of those troublemaker looks that made any guy with half a brain want to squirm.

  “Maybe you know someone who could help you with the retail part,” she said with an odd glint in her eyes.

  Crazy as it seemed, he wondered if she was fishing for details on his personal life. He wasn’t sure why she cared, but he decided to play along, just for fun.

  Rubbing his chin, he pretended to consider her suggestion. “Maybe I do. Could be dangerous to ask her, though, seeing as the last time I saw her she was in Phoenix, tossing my stuff out a window and chucking a lamp at my head.”

  That got him a withering feminine glare that made him feel about six inches tall. “I can’t begin to imagine why.”

  Her response caught him off guard, and he bristled defensively, which was completely out of character for him. Most of the time, he couldn’t care less what other people thought of him. Why did this snippy woman’s opinion matter so much? “That’s kinda harsh, don’t you think?”

  “Men are all the same,” she informed him, as if he needed the lesson and it was up to her to enlighten him. “You’re big teddy bears until something doesn’t go your way, then you’re on your way out the door. It’s a wonder any of you ever grow up enough to amount to anything.”

  “Hey, she kicked me out.” He pointed to his chest for emphasis.

  Chelsea’s eyes sparked like furious emeralds. “Did you ever ask her why?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but she traded me in for a guy with a Porsche. When I called her a greedy gold digger, she didn’t take it well.” It still stung that what he’d had to offer her hadn’t been enough. The blow to his ego hadn’t quite healed, and he was determined to avoid a repeat performance.

  “So you just walked out, packed up your truck and went to Oregon?” When he didn’t respond, she shook her head at him. “Same old Paul. Never happy with where you are, always looking over the horizon for something better.”

  The fact that she was at least partially right didn’t help his suddenly sour mood. “You haven’t changed, either. You’re still judging other people for taking risks you’d never even dream of. How’s that working for you?”

  Dismissing him, she pivoted on one of her fancy shoes and went down a set of steps to the side yard where they used to unload the trucks. Paul stood there for a while, trying to get control of his boiling temper before he made the situation worse by charging after her to continue their...argument? No, that wasn’t quite it, he admitted as he watched her through a window. It had been more like sparring, each of them testing the other before squaring up to land their best punches.

  Just like old times, he thought with a grimace. Her last name happened to come before his in the alphabet, so they’d often been teamed up for school projects. Their efforts had ended up being more competitions than collaborations, and although they’d scored well, every second they were forced to work together had been a teeth-grinding clash of wills. Now he needed her help or this restoration was dead in the water. Paul simply couldn’t let that happen.

  After battling cancer for five years, Granddad’s fight was rapidly coming to an end, and all he wanted was to see his cherished mill up and running before he died. Paul had driven across the country to make sure that happened, which meant he had to man up and apologize to Chelsea for insulting her. Searching for inspiration, he glanced down at Boyd, who was stretched out in a patch of late-morning sunlight, his brow wrinkled with what could only be described as concern. More than once, it had flashed through Paul’s mind that his canine buddy was more sympathetic than a lot of people he knew.

  “Whattya say, partner? Wanna go make nice for me?” Boyd let out a quiet groan, then closed his eyes to resume his nap. “Yeah, well, thanks for nothin’.”

  Groveling really shouldn’t be all that tough for him, he reasoned as he followed after Chelsea. He’d begged forgiveness from so many women over the years, he’d gotten pretty good at it. But as he watched her with her rolling measuring stick and camera, so intent on her task that she didn’t appear to notice him, his gut warned him that this time would be different.

  Because she was brighter than most, and she’d see right through his usual I’m-just-a-guy approach. That meant he’d have to go with the truth, which could be dicey when it came to the female species. But this wasn’t about him, he reminded himself as he glanced back at the half-restored mill. It was about answering Granddad’s prayers to get the family business back in working order. If Paul had to eat a little humble pie in the meantime, it was best to choke it down as quickly as possible and watch his mouth from here on out.

  Hoping to appear contrite, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and trudged down the steps. In the yard, he intercepted Chelsea. Summoning every sad moment o
f his life into his expression, he kept it simple. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” she countered tartly. “Being you? Please.”

  Sharp words leaped onto his tongue, and he sent up a quick prayer for patience. What he said to her right now would make or break this project, and he wasn’t averse to calling in a little divine help. “For being out of line. You obviously have a great life, and I had no right to talk to you that way. I hope you can forgive me.”

  The change in her was remarkable. He’d braced himself for a scolding, but what he got instead was a slowly dawning smile. By the time it reached her eyes, he glimpsed a sparkle in them he’d never seen before. How many guys had gotten that view of her? he wondered briefly before slamming the door on his curiosity. He had no intention of going anywhere remotely personal with her, so there was no point in even asking the question.

  “Thank you, Paul. That can’t have been easy for you to do, and I appreciate it. Believe it or not,” she added in a warmer tone, “I think your idea for this place has a lot of merit.”

  “That’s good,” Paul stammered, unable to believe what he was hearing.

  She gave him a nod, then got back to her measuring. While he appreciated her attempt to be encouraging, he was smart enough to realize it didn’t mean much in this situation. When it came to dollars and cents, banks were notoriously hard-hearted these days, which didn’t bode well for the Barretts.

  It wasn’t himself he was worried about, Paul thought morosely. He’d failed before—plenty of times—and as Chelsea had so deftly noted, he had a knack for burying his mistakes and moving on.

  But this time, he had to succeed. Knowing that scared him to death.

  Copyright © 2014 by Andrea Chermak

  ISBN-13: 9781460337448

  A HEART TO HEAL

  Copyright © 2014 by Alyse Stanko Pleiter

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  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. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

  www.Harlequin.com

  Learning To Love…Again

  Idyllic Goose Harbor, Michigan, offers a fresh start for broken-hearted Paige Windom. In addition to securing a teaching job at the high school, she’ll fulfill her dream of helping at-risk teens in a nearby inner-city mentoring program. But Caleb Beck, a handsome yet overprotective widower and the center’s founder, doesn’t want Paige anywhere near the place. He’s afraid she’ll get hurt—just like his late wife. Paige knows she can do a lot of good—for the kids and Caleb himself. If only she can show him how to let go of his fear, maybe they’ll both find a way to reopen their wounded hearts.

  Goose Harbor: Love is in big supply on the shores of Lake Michigan.

  Paige wondered what Caleb was thinking.

  “After tonight,” he said, “after actually seeing this place…do you still want to be involved with the center?” He spoke so quietly, she had to lean even closer.

  Did she? Paige bit her lip. “Yes. Of course.” If only to prove she could.

  “But I don’t understand,” he said. “You’ve now—”

  “You don’t just back down from something you’ve thought about for years.” Paige tried to keep the quiver out of her voice.

  “It’s not safe, Paige. Don’t you see that?” He braced one hand on her car and one hand on his truck. “For instance, tonight—what if I hadn’t stayed and made sure you got to your car safely? This is a dangerous city.”

  “So you keep saying.”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ll continue to remind you of that until you get it.”

  Paige folded her arms, hiding her hands so he wouldn’t see that they were shaking.

  Why couldn’t he understand?

  Books by Jessica Keller

  Love Inspired

  Home for Good

  The Widower’s Second Chance

  JESSICA KELLER

  A Starbucks drinker, avid reader and chocolate aficionado, Jessica writes both romance and young adult fiction. As a child, Jessica possessed the dangerous combination of too much energy coupled with an overactive imagination. This pairing led to more than seven broken bones, countless scars and even more story ideas. Jessica holds degrees in both communications and biblical studies. She lives in the Chicagoland suburbs with her amazing husband, beautiful daughter and two annoyingly outgoing cats. Jessica loves interacting with readers. Find all of her contact information at www.jessicakellerbooks.com.

  THE WIDOWER’S SECOND CHANCE

  Jessica Keller

  He who was seated on the throne said,

  I am making everything new.

  Then he said, Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.

  —Revelation 21:5

  First and foremost, thank you and love to my husband and beautiful daughter, who overflow my heart with love, making it possible for me to have the energy and encouragement to keep writing. Also to the members of the BCGE who helped me brainstorm and add layers to both Caleb and Paige, the story wouldn’t have been written without you all. Many thanks to my parents, who are always happy and willing to watch my baby so I could write—you both believe in me, and that has made all the difference in my journey. Lastly to the lovely Lisa Marie, who has asked me for years when I’d start writing “those stories about the tourist town in Michigan” that I told her about back in our college days. For you, Lisa, Goose Harbor now lives.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dear Reader

  Questions for Discussion

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  That sure smelled like fire.

  Caleb Beck backed out from his crouched position under the sink and laid down the wrench. Hopefully the patch on the pipe would work. “Mags! Are you cooking something?”

  He clomped over to the industrial oven he’d installed at the bed-and-breakfast a few years ago. Cool to the touch. He peeked inside, just in case. Empty.

  The inn had seven guest bedrooms, and four of the rooms had their own fireplaces. He sniffed the air and turned in a circle, his fingers looped on his tool belt. The smell didn’t come from upstairs. Out the window over the kitchen sink, Caleb spotted the inn’s owner, Maggie West, working in the garden. It would be just like his absentminded sister-in-law to not foll
ow city code and burn something out in the yard.

  He yanked open the back door. “Maggie. Are you burning something? Leaves, maybe?”

  Maggie rolled her eyes at him, her hands on her hips and her curly brown hair puffing out in every angle imaginable. “Burning leaves at the end of summer? We have months yet for that. Don’t tell me you hit your head in there.”

  Caleb growled. Should have known he wouldn’t get a straight answer out of her. Maggie had been stubborn since they were kids playing on the beaches of Lake Michigan together.

  He let out a long breath. Be patient. “Well, something is burning, and if you’re just going to stand there...”

  “It’s probably faulty work done by my handyman.” A laugh in her voice, she bent back down to tend to her garden.

  “But I’m your handyman.”

  “Like I said.”

  He shoved through the back door and his eyes landed on the door that led to the basement. Of course. These old Victorians came complete with ancient and terrible wiring. Sure, the homes filled the tourist town of Goose Harbor with charm, but the laws against changing historical landmarks made it difficult to improve the buildings when safety came into play. Maggie might not take him seriously, but the whole place could go up in a heap of smoke if he didn’t act fast. Caleb hurtled down the stairs, taking them two at a time.

  The sight that met him made him freeze for a moment.

  A woman he’d never seen before hunched over a metal tub in the middle of the cold floor. Her blond hair splayed across her face and blocked him from seeing her expression. Pieces of paper fanned out in all directions around her.

  He took a step forward. She didn’t look up. Caleb scooped up one of the papers. A letter.