by Kim Koby
Her Second Chance Unforgettable Groom
Bachelor Texas Rebel Romances
Kim Koby
Foreword by Taylor Hart
Ohmygosh I love this book so much!
The way Jett loves his family and loves his bbq sauce just melted my heart!
Brandy’s journey back to love just opened my heart to how much pain we hold from the past!
You’ll want to cozy up, get your hot chocolate, and read this one slowly!
Hugs-
Taylor Hart
Best-selling author of Her Second Chance Prodigal Groom: Bachelor Texas Rebel Romances
Copyright
All rights reserved.
© 2019 Kim Koby
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews. The reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form whether electronic, mechanical or other means, known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written consent of the publisher and/or author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This edition is published by ArchStone Ink LLC.
First eBook Edition: 2019
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the creation 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.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Also by Kim Koby
About the Author
Chapter 1
Jett Warren knew what he had to do. There was no question in his mind.
The weight on his shoulders pressed down like a ton of bricks, even for a powerful defensive lineman like himself. Coming to a final decision was the hardest thing he’d ever done. It was the kind of decision nobody in their right mind would want to make.
It’d taken him months to reach this point.
Grief stricken and overwhelmed with guilt, the answer was clear. He made peace with his choice—the best he was able. The relentless hours he’d spent dwelling over his brother’s situation pushed and pulled between helplessness and doubt.
It wouldn’t go over well, but it wasn’t his life that was in the balance. If he’d been the one in a similar position, he’d want them to do the same.
He sighed heavily and dropped his head into his hands.
He couldn’t put it off forever.
They’d already waited too long, and his brother was counting on him. Pain seared deeply in his chest.
The San Antonio Rebel football player wouldn’t celebrate the upcoming holidays like everyone else, buying presents and attending fun gatherings. No, with a rare week off in December, he’d pace the quiet hospital hallways and try to find the strength to say the words that he needed to say aloud.
He knew a battle would ensue, but he’d stand his ground.
When the news first came, his family was shredded. But time passed, and nothing changed. His stomach twisted in knots. So much lately, it was like a tangled ball of yarn.
It was time to make the final call.
He’d never expected his younger brother to be on life support. He also never expected the owner of the San Antonio Rebels to die of a heart attack, way too young. Terry Jones was a leader who most looked up to. It came as a shock, knocking the entire football team off its feet.
Death and mortality slapped him across the face, leaving him questioning too many things. Why his brother? Why Terry? Why not him?
They were all still numb at last night’s charity event. The defensive lineman agreed with the rest of his teammates—it was a sign. DJ, Austin, Sy, Emmitt, and Jett were as thick as thieves. In honor of Terry Jones, they’d right a wrong. They’d each do something they’d been putting off, something that would erase a past regret. Terry Jones led a life of giving back and helping others and inspired their decision.
Jett’s deepest regret was not speaking up soon enough. Time lingered. He should have been stronger. He should have been the one to say something, but the unbearable pain made it seem impossible.
As for the team, the future was uncertain. Morale was low and had practically shattered after losing Terry. Normally, the playoffs were in sight, but this year things didn’t look good. If they wanted to bring the championship title home, it was time to make a change.
Jett grew up locally, so he didn’t have as far to travel as some of the others. Not that he was complaining. Being a hometown hero was a boon for his career. He’d played most of his professional years right there in San Antonio, Texas.
He palmed the steering wheel of his truck and stared out the windshield. Sun, rain, or snow, he wouldn’t have seen anything but the image of his brother anyway. He usually found his way to the hospital on autopilot. Even after all this time, it never got easier. Seeing Will in that hospital bed with so many wires and tubes was heartbreaking. It was like a sledgehammer to his chest.
He snapped out of his daze and started his truck. It roared to life. He pointed the large Ford Raptor toward the hospital.
He’d been avoiding this moment—this conversation.
With it being football season, he had a justifiable reason to stay away. His family understood his need to focus. This wasn’t some hobby sport, but a multi-million-dollar career on the line. He was an All-Star, an elite athlete, and letting his focus waiver wasn’t an option even in the worst of times.
Jett parked his truck and trudged through the hospital’s parking garage. He preferred to stay in the shadows. No need to draw attention to himself. This wasn’t the time or place to be noticed. Though at his height and weight, it was hard to be invisible.
The arguments were the hardest. The disconnect only made things more difficult.
His younger brother had been on life support for months. Eva, Will’s wife, was ready to say good-bye, where his parents begged for one more week, one more hour, one more minute or anything that would keep him here longer. There was no easy answer, no right or wrong, but a final decision needed to be made. It was time.
The closer he got to his brother’s room, the bigger the ache in his chest. He’d been tackled by the toughest men out there, but nothing could touch the kind of pain he felt on seeing his brother fade away. The raw emotion tore at his core, leaving him broken, shattered, and confused.
He stepped into his brother’s room.
The rise and fall of a breathing machine caused his shoulders to stiffen. The rhythmic beep of monitors filled the space. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself. The familiar scent of sanitizer flooded his senses.
Jett rolled his hands into fists to help control the trembling. Those first few minutes were always the hardest. Will was lifeless and pale, like a crinkled sheet of paper.
The skiing accident left him with too many broken bones to count and severe brain damage. He
shouldn’t have survived, but he did. They stopped the internal bleeding, set the bones that they could, and placed him on life support. He’d been crushed after hitting a tree at a high rate of speed. Bones heal. His brain damage wouldn’t.
Early on, his family grasped onto a sliver of hope—maybe false hope—but it was something. They deluded themselves. It was easier than the alternative. “There was always room for a miracle,” his mother would say.
Too much time passed. Nothing changed. A miracle never came. He was still completely unresponsive.
Jett’s chest tightened. He drew in another deep breath, trying to adapt. It never got easier seeing his brother that way. Never.
His mother hunched next to Will in a plastic visitor’s chair. She was frail, translucent, and not taking care of herself. He hated seeing her this way. She was once a vibrant, colorful woman. All that remained was the shadow of herself. Her face showcased new tiny lines around her eyes, though the dark circles beneath them hadn’t left for months.
He walked over, leaned down, and gave her a gentle hug. “Any changes?”
He knew the answer before she spoke.
Her voice was haunted as she stared ahead. “No.”
It was a long time coming. He’d practiced what he’d say on the drive over, but nothing sounded quite right. What he was asking of his mother was beyond anything he could comprehend...and yet, there was no other choice.
“Mom. We’ve waited. We’ve prayed. There’s been no significant change in months. I think it’s time.”
She scolded him with an icy stare. “Don’t you dare say that. That’s my son. I refuse to give up on him. I’d do the same for you. Besides, I squeezed his hand a few weeks ago, and I’m positive he squeezed mine back. Don’t tell me he didn’t. I don’t care what the doctors said, Will is my flesh and blood. Somebody needs to watch for his best interest if his wife won’t.”
“The doctor said it was an involuntary movement. Don’t read into that. They did a scan. Nothing’s changed. You know that,” he gently reminded.
Her icy demeanor cracked. She looked up at him, her eyes welling with tears. “Don’t make me say goodbye to my baby. God is capable of miracles. There’s still a chance.”
“If there was a miracle in the works, it would have already happened, Mom. It’s been too long.”
She stiffened as tears streaked her face. “So, you want me to go to a cemetery to see your brother? What will I see? Tell me! A slab of granite with his name on it? Right here, I can see my son. I can look at his face. I can still have a piece of him.”
Jett’s voice softened. “He wouldn’t want to live this way. We held on all this time thinking and hoping for a different outcome, but it didn’t come to pass. Eva has a right to make this decision. She’s his wife.”
“And I’m chopped liver? You’re taking her side now?” Her lip quivered as she looked away.
“I’m taking Will’s side, Mom. I wouldn’t want to live this way. Would you?”
She sighed, then tried to reason with him. “Don’t take him away from me. Don’t encourage Eva, Jett. Let me keep my son alive. He might come back.”
Jett hugged his mother. “He’s not coming back, Mom. We both know that.”
She shook her head vigorously, annoyed with the new direction her son had taken. “Don’t. Don’t you dare give up on him. I refuse to give up. I believe in miracles. They happen all the time. I’ve got enough hope and faith for the both of us.”
Jett’s shoulders tensed. He knew it would be a tough fight, but when it came down to it, arguing about it didn’t solve anything.
“Did you tell your father you’re supporting Eva, now? And what about your family? What about us?”
“Eva is family. And Will’s gone. He’s not here, Mom. It’s his body. He’s moved on. Let him rest in peace, not hooked up to a bevy of machines. If he has the means of surviving on his own, without the machines, so be it. Take him off them and see if he can breathe. See if he can eat. See if his body shuts down. See where he’s at without the mechanical help.”
“I don’t even know you anymore,” she snapped. Pain painted her face, an ache that she wore on the outside as well as inside.
“Mom, please consider other options.”
“No. I won’t give in. That’s my son.”
Will was only the casing of his former self. He’d prided himself on taking care of his body, but now he wasted away like an empty vessel. His sister-in-law and mother watched over him like he was the centerpiece of an art exhibit—almost afraid to look away in case his finger twitched.
All eyes were on him, desperate for any sign of change. His life was essentially over, but his mother pushed to keep him alive. “Maybe with enough prayer,” she’d say.
The impact of the accident should have killed him. They’d been away, enjoying a long weekend in Colorado. Eva arranged for him to be moved when they realized the situation. She wanted him to be near family. They’d tried a private facility, but after a bad experience, Jett pulled strings to get him back to the local hospital that they knew and trusted.
Jett’s mother, on the other hand, refused to let go. She visited him regularly, holding out hope, praying at Will’s bedside, convinced her son would return to her fully at some point. When Eva made the decision to take Will off life support, Jett’s mother threatened an injunction and pushed the issue. Eva held on as long as she could, but it was draining her soul. She had nothing left. Spending every waking hour that she could at the hospital, between work and taking care of herself, she was as empty as Will.
The stress of his brother’s life hanging by a thread wore heavy. The ongoing dispute between his mother and sister-in-law didn’t help matters. He’d finally come to a decision that he was almost afraid of. Would his brother understand? There was a slice of guilt that went along with letting go. And yet, this wasn’t living. There was no quality in Will’s life. He was an empty body in a bed. Siding with Eva put him in a precarious situation.
Let him die with dignity. Pull the plugs. It was the right thing to do. He hoped God forgave him, but nature would dictate the final call when the machines were turned off.
While other families would celebrate the Christmas season with decorated trees, gifts, and laughter, Jett would spend it saying goodbye to his best friend and brother.
Chapter 2
St. Mary’s. He knew every hallway of the hospital. After Will was transferred, Jett spent each waking hour he had available there, but life continued, as did his contract with the Rebels. Football was life, and the one place where he could let his stress out. Every workout, every game, every moment he was focused on football he could forget that his brother was nearly dead.
His insides twisted into a knot. Nearly dead.
Will’s life hung in the balance, barely attached by an unraveling thread.
Jett turned down another familiar hallway. They’d tried to spruce things up, but there was no hiding the environment, even with the steady stream of artwork that dotted the walls. Landscapes, pretty sunsets, and orchards all trying to offer you the vision of being elsewhere. If you were at the hospital, you were ill or visiting somebody ill. The pictures did nothing to change that fact.
Besides, the scent of “hospital” lingered in his nostrils, something he couldn’t seem to escape anywhere in the building. It was some odd mix of disinfectant that tried to mask itself as a fresh fragrance and something reminiscent of bleach.
He stopped at the small chapel within the hospital and pulled open the door. It was a small room with a golden tinged carpet showcasing tiny burgundy accents in a simple pattern. A chapel housed a couple of short mahogany pews, each no more than six feet in length. Stained glass of varying color covered the two small windows near the front of the room. They let in streams of colored light. A simple wooden cross was positioned at the front of the chapel on the wall between the windows.
The door closed behind him as he stepped inside. Jett slammed his fist on the back of a pew. He
forced air from his lungs. He’d been holding his breath as tension wrapped tightly around him like a python forcefully squeezing him. Would his brother ever find peace?
Jett moved to the other side of the pew and sat down. He dropped his head in his hands, looking for answers he didn’t have.
Was his mother right—had he given up too soon?
His heart weighed heavy with burden. He closed his eyes and said a prayer and hoped God was listening.
The door opened behind him. He turned to look at who came in. She was the last person he expected to see. “What are you doing here?”
“Jeff, is that you? What’s it been, ten years?” Brandy stepped in closer to him. Her jaw dropped in shock. “I…You…Are you okay?”
“Nobody’s called me Jeff in years. I’m okay.” Stunned, he scanned her up and down. Last time he’d been with her, she’d torn his heart into tiny pieces and left them on the floor for him to pick up. He was still reeling, trying to make sense of the fact that Brandy Summers was standing beside him. Stunned was an understatement.
“What brings you here? Is your mom okay? Your dad?” she asked.
Jett struggled for the right words. He wanted to make a snide comment about the last time he’d seen her, but that wouldn’t do either of them any good. Instead, he reminded himself of the reason he was sitting in St. Mary’s hospital chapel. “My brother was involved in a skiing accident. It’s not looking good.”
“Oh, no!” Brandy moved closer, then seemed to hesitate.