Love Inspired May 2015 #1

by Brenda Minton

  “Yep, I’m back.” And there wasn’t anyone or anything that could make him leave again. At least not before he cleaned up the Donnelly family name and made amends to his brothers for bailing on them and his mother.

  * * *

  Becca kept an eye on Brendon and Ari from the kitchen window that overlooked the backyard as she put away the groceries she’d picked up in Ticonderoga. Her son was racing his bike around Ari and the jungle gym her father had built for them before he and her mother had moved to North Carolina. Probably pretending he was Jared. He and motocross racing were all Brendon had talked about on the drive home from Edna Stowe’s house.

  She closed the cupboard and walked out to the deck to call the kids in to get their things ready to go to their other grandparents’ for the night.

  “Hey, Mom, watch.” Brendon rode his bike up a small rise behind the jungle gym and sped down, yanking on the bike’s handle bars and doing a wheelie for several feet across the yard. She stifled a screech as he circled around and laid the bike down on the grass in front of the deck steps.

  “What do you think?” He beamed.

  What she thought was she was likely to be completely gray by the time she was thirty-five. “Impressive,” she said.

  “Do you think if I asked Dad, he would buy me a dirt bike for my birthday?”

  Becca closed her eyes and breathed in and out. If her ex-husband knew how much that thought terrorized her, he probably would and count the cost as child support. She’d never shared it with Matt, but her parents had instilled a fear of motorcycles in her when she was a child after a close friend of theirs had died in a bike accident.

  “I think you should wait a few more years on that one.” Brendon was only nine going on ten.

  “Aw, Jared could teach me how to ride. The story in the magazine said that he’s going to start a school to teach kids like me how to race motocross, with a real motocross racetrack and everything.”

  “I don’t think he’s building his racetrack here.” Jared Donnelly hadn’t been back to Paradox Lake for more than an occasional short visit since he’d left fifteen years ago. Even if he were in town for an extended visit, she doubted he’d build his motocross school here in the North Country where he could only operate it part of the year.

  The disappointment on Brendon’s face made her chest tighten. He was just a little boy, even though he often seemed older because of his self-appointed role as the man of the family since her ex had left them.

  She draped her arm over his shoulder, expecting him to duck out of her loose embrace, and her heart warmed when he didn’t. “You and Ari need to get ready to go to Grandma and Grandpa’s. They’ll be here soon to pick you guys up for the pizza movie night at church. Is Ian going?”

  “Yeah.” Brendon shrugged away. “His parents would probably let him get a dirt bike.”

  Back to that. Becca was pretty certain her son’s best friend’s parents would no more buy Ian a dirt bike than she’d let Brendon have one. “Go on and get your sleepover stuff ready. I’ll be right in with Ari.”

  Brendon stomped off.

  “Ari, we need to pack your things for Grandma’s.”

  “Okay, Mom.” She jumped off the swing and skipped up the stairs to the deck.

  A few minutes later, Becca watched her former in-laws and her kids drive away. Fortunately, they’d been running late, so she hadn’t had to talk with them much beyond finding out when they’d be bringing the kids back tomorrow. She walked to the kitchen, poured a glass of ice tea and took a carton of yogurt from the refrigerator before going back out onto the deck. Brendon had left his magazine on the umbrella table. She sat on the matching chair and leafed through the magazine to a page with a picture of Jared standing beside a racing bike with his helmet tucked under his arm. His hair was tousled as if he’d just taken off the helmet, and he oozed masculine bravado. In the accompanying article, Jared talked about starting a motocross school for kids, particularly underprivileged and fatherless kids.

  She closed the publication and placed it on the table. Brendon wasn’t underprivileged, but she often felt he was growing up fatherless. She’d taken her wedding vows seriously. Tried and prayed so hard to keep her marriage together, and, despite knowing better, couldn’t shake the final remnants of failure that she hadn’t been able to. As if to block out the pain, her mind went to Ari and Brendon sitting on either side of Jared on his grandmother’s couch looking at Ari’s storybook. A perfect family picture. Something beyond her reach. Obviously, she wasn’t cut out for marriage if she couldn’t make a go of it with someone she’d grown up with and had known as well as Matt. Or thought she’d known.

  The picture of Jared with her kids popped back into her head. She had no idea why her mind was flitting from him to marriage and back to him. Regardless of what he’d said at his grandmother’s about getting used to Adirondack winters again, she couldn’t imagine he was back to stay. What attraction, besides his family, could Paradox Lake hold for someone who’d traveled all around the world?

  Becca pushed Jared and her failed marriage out of her head. Looking past her yard beyond her property to the meadow and woods that Bert Miller had owned, she wondered what would become of the acreage. Her ex-mother-in-law had been sure Bert would leave it to her, his only relative. But that didn’t seem to be the case. She placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her entwined fingers. Last year, she and the two other families on Conifer Road had heard Bert was considering selling it to a resort syndicate that was vying for one of the gambling casino licenses New York State had up for grabs at the time. They’d banded together in an informal homeowners association, ready to oppose that project or any other undesirable one that might endanger the quality of life they wanted for their families.

  She hoped it wouldn’t come to anything like that. Recently, hanging on to her property had become enough of a fight for her. She didn’t need another one. Raising two kids and paying the mortgage on the dream house she and her ex-husband had built was tough on a teacher’s salary, especially a teacher’s salary at a small school such as Schroon Lake. She nudged a stone under the table with her toe. Getting the job she’d applied for running The Kids’ Place at church for the summer would really help. Disappointment welled inside her. She’d thought she would have heard back by now. The only other jobs available were in the tourist trade and wouldn’t pay enough for her to make any money once she’d paid for day care. Unless she asked her ex-mother-in-law to watch them, which she wasn’t about to do. Ari and Brendon could come with her to The Kids’ Place. She kicked the stone and watched it arch up and hit the deck rail before landing on the grass several feet away.

  She rose to go inside. Why did she always have to second-guess herself and overthink everything? Why couldn’t she simply accept God’s plan for her? Her mind flashed back once more to Jared reading to her kids and she halted midstep. That couldn’t possibly be what He had in mind for her.

  Copyright © 2015 by Jean Chelikowsky Gordon

  ISBN-13: 9781460381472

  The Single Dad Finds a Wife

  Copyright © 2015 by Felicia Mason

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  www.Harlequin.com

  Building a Romance

  Young widow Lainie Hollings will do anything to protect her daughters—even if it means accepting help from Shaw McKinney. Though she blames Shaw for her husband’s death, he’s the only one she can turn to when a robbery forces her to take shelter in his home. Soon she’s surprised by the handsome contractor. He’s kind, charming and determined to protect her and her girls. Being with Lainie makes Shaw want to give up his bachelor life and become a family man. But he’ll need to win over the pretty librarian and prove to her he’s the right man for her future.

  “Give me your hand.”

  She couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of this rugged guy sporting blue nail polish. She took the bottle of nail polish remover from the cupboard along with several cotton balls.

  She forced herself to look only at the nail she was working on and not his face. But with each swipe of the cotton ball, she grew more and more conscious of how nice his hands were.

  Touching him stirred an unwelcome attraction. But she was impressed with his willingness to let the girls cover him in stickers and paint his fingernails. She wouldn’t have expected that from a die-hard bachelor. Aware of the tension between them, Lainie cleared her throat and attempted light conversation. “My girls can be very persuasive.”

  “A couple of little charmers. They told me this color matched my eyes.”

  “Oh, no. Your eyes aren’t sky blue, they’re cobalt like those old bottles…” She froze. What was wrong with her?

  “I’m partial to brown eyes myself.”

  She had brown eyes.

  Lorraine Beatty was raised in Columbus, Ohio, but now calls Mississippi home. She and her husband, Joe, have two sons and five grandchildren. Lorraine started writing in junior high and is a member of RWA and ACFW and is a charter member and past president of Magnolia State Romance Writers. In her spare time she likes to work in her garden, travel and spend time with her family.

  Books by Lorraine Beatty

  Love Inspired

  Home to Dover

  Protecting the Widow’s Heart

  His Small-Town Family

  Bachelor to the Rescue

  Rekindled Romance

  Restoring His Heart

  Bachelor to the Rescue

  By Lorraine Beatty

  Search me, God, and know my heart;

  test me and know my anxious thoughts.

  —Psalms 139:23

  To my sisters—Linda, Brenda, Tina and Kathy. We may not be related by blood but I love you all as if we were.

  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

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  “Mommy, can we go home now? I’m tired of coloring.”

  Lainie Hollings fought back the nausea churning in her stomach and gently stroked her youngest daughter’s hair. “Not yet, Chrissy. Why don’t you use the green crayon for a while?”

  A weary sigh accompanied the nodding of the little head. Lainie watched her girls, six-year-old Natalie and four-year-old Christiana, as they scribbled on the pages the officer at the Dover Mississippi Police Station had given them to keep them entertained. They couldn’t go home because they had no home to go to. Her job as assistant to Mrs. Forsythe, a wealthy businesswoman in Memphis, Tennessee, had ended when her employer had moved away for health reasons. Thankfully, Lainie had quickly landed the position as head librarian for the Dover Public Library.

  Today was their moving day. This morning, she had been filled with excitement and bursting with hope. This move marked the culmination of a dream she and her husband had once shared. They’d planned to leave Baton Rouge and its big city life behind and move to a small town where they could grow their family in a friendly, nurturing environment. They’d been saving for a house, but she had been forced to use the money for Craig’s funeral instead. Alone and pregnant with their second child, she’d moved to Jackson, Tennessee, to live with her mother and gone back to school at night to get her degree.

  The past five years had been difficult, moving from place to place, job to job. The librarian position was her chance to find a permanent home.

  So, they’d come to Dover a few days early to find a place to live and check into child care. It was supposed to be a fun trip discovering their new home. Instead, they were sitting in a police station, the victims of a crime. As they had been leaving a local restaurant, a man had shoved Lainie against her car, waved a gun in her face, then yanked her purse from her arm and fled. Thankfully, she’d already put the girls in the car. But all she had left were the car keys she held in her hand, and eight dollars and thirty-four cents—change from lunch, which she’d shoved into the pocket of her cotton slacks.

  The moment replayed in her mind like a scene from a horror film, tightening the vise of fear around her chest. She lowered her head into her hands, fighting to keep the rising panic at bay. How was she going to take care of her girls? Where would they stay? She’d set aside money for a motel, but now, without a credit card or cash, that was impossible. Tears welled in her eyes and she brushed them away quickly, not wanting the children to see her upset. But she was barely holding it together.

  “Look, Mommy, I colored it purple.” Chrissy’s blue eyes sparkled from behind her glasses.

  “Good job, sweetie.”

  Looking at her precious girls, her throat constricted again. What if the thief had taken the car with the girls inside? What if he’d killed her? Lainie forced the terrifying thoughts aside. She couldn’t give in to the fear. They were all fine, but destitute. She had no phone, no ID and no money. The only person she knew in town, Mr. Bill Ogden, mayor and president of the library board who’d hired her, was out of town for the weekend. They were on their own.

  Unless Shaw McKinney showed up.

  The knot in her chest grew. She clasped her hands together, squeezing tightly. While paying her bill at the restaurant, she’d noticed several business cards on display. One had a familiar name printed on it. Goudchaux McKinney Construction. Shaw McKinney, contractor. She’d picked up the card, the name unearthing anger and resentment she’d thought long buried. If it weren’t for him, Craig would still be alive and her daughters would have a father. She’d shoved the card into her pocket along with the change. Shaw was the last person on earth she wanted to ask for help, but he was her only option. She’d given the card to the officer and asked him to call.

  “Mommy, I have to go.” Natalie wiggled in her chair.

  Chrissy looked up, pushing her tiny glasses up on her little nose. “Me, too.”

  Lainie stood and looked around for her purse, wincing when she remembered it was gone. “Come on, girls.” Lainie took their hands and walked down the hall to the restrooms. She tried to quell the nervousness swirling in her stomach as she helped Chrissy wash her hands. Maybe when she returned to the lobby, Shaw would be here. She didn’t want to think about what they would do if he didn’t come. Worse yet, what if he did? Turning for help to the man responsible for her husband’s death was repugnant.

  Settling into the molded plastic chair again
, she glanced toward the lobby entrance as yet another stranger walked in. She’d repeated this motion so often she now recognized the distinct squeak and swoosh of the door when it opened and closed. This time, it ushered in a gray-haired man carrying a large envelope.

  “Mommy, can you draw me a rainbow?”

  Lainie took one of the crayons and drew arched lines across the paper. “What’s Shaw doing here in Dover, Mississippi, anyway?”

  “What, Mommy?”

  “Nothing, sweetie. I’m just talking to myself.” The last time she’d seen Shaw was in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Craig had hired on with Beaumont Construction, determined to learn carpentry so he could eventually start his own contracting firm. Shaw had been his instructor, the one assigned to show him the ropes and keep him safe as he navigated the dangers of the job. But he hadn’t, and Craig had died.

  Lainie pressed her lips together. They’d been sitting in the police station for two hours, filling out forms, answering questions. She had to face the possibility that Shaw might not come. He probably didn’t remember her. She’d have to find another way to survive until she started her job next week. Maybe there was a homeless shelter in town. The idea made her sick. She’d worked hard the past five years to take care of her girls, and she’d done a decent job so far. But this wasn’t the time to let pride stand in her way. Perhaps there was a church in town that could help. Their last resort would be to spend a few nights in the car until the mayor returned. Hopefully, he’d let her start work early or give her an advance to tide her over.

  Closing her eyes, she clasped her hands in front of her mouth. Lord, help me. I have no one. Nowhere to turn, but You. You’ve seen me through these past five years. Please don’t abandon me now.