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Their Second Chance Love
Kat Brookes
A Lone Star ReunionHope Dillan thought she’d left the town of Braxton behind her—right along with the man she abandoned. But when her father falls ill, Hope anxiously flies home and finds former love Logan Cooper right where she left him. Being around Logan again feels like old times. The spark between them remains, but so does the secret that forced Hope to end things—one she knows will always keep them apart. When her father’s condition worsens, Hope feels the weight of everything she might lose. But how can she come clean to Logan without closing the door on their happily-ever-after again?
A Lone Star Reunion
Hope Dillan thought she’d left the town of Braxton behind her—right along with the man she abandoned. But when her father falls ill, Hope anxiously flies home and finds former love Logan Cooper right where she left him. Being around Logan again feels like old times. The spark between them remains, but so does the secret that forced Hope to end things—one she knows will always keep them apart. When her father’s condition worsens, Hope feels the weight of everything she might lose. But how can she come clean to Logan without closing the door on their happily-ever-after again?
“Logan!” she shrieked, arms folded over her head.
This time he was the one chuckling. “You ready to call a truce, little darlin’?” he asked as he shifted the hose’s aim to the plants on the table beside her.
“Yes,” she sputtered as she turned to face him. Water clung to the spiraling strands of her hair like a heavy morning dew. Coppery curls hung in sagging, wet tendrils to frame her pretty face.
A memory came rushing back from the past. One that had been very much like this moment. He and Hope in this very same greenhouse, both armed with hoses. Both soaked clean through by the end of their water play. Both falling in love. Or so he had thought.
Logan shut off the nozzle’s spray and tossed it onto the ground beside him. “You can take it from here. I’ve got work to do.” That said, he walked out of the greenhouse.
And away from the painful memories of her walking away from what they’d once had.
KAT BROOKES is an award-winning author and past Romance Writers of America Golden Heart® Award finalist. She is married to her childhood sweetheart and has been blessed with two beautiful daughters. She loves writing stories that can both make you smile and touch your heart. Kat is represented by Michelle Grajkowski with 3 Seas Literary Agency. Read more about Kat and her upcoming releases at katbrookes.com (http://www.katbrookes.com). Email her at katbrookes@comcast.net. Facebook: Kat Brookes (https://www.facebook.com/kat.brookes.5).
Their Second Chance Love
Kat Brookes
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, doesnot act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered.
—1 Corinthians 13:4–5
I would like to dedicate this book to my good friend Tammy Johnson, who talked me into submitting to Love Inspired after she sold her book to Love Inspired Suspense. Without her pushing me to take the chance, this book would not have been. I’d also like to thank my wonderful agent, Michelle Grajkowski from 3 Seas Literary Agency, and my two writing besties, Janice Lynn and Lisa Childs, for believing in me and brainstorming ideas with me for so many years.
Contents
Cover (#u4b2944d5-3139-58e1-b238-10d0c398f64f)
Back Cover Text (#u390648d4-ab7c-590c-8456-c0c736185fc9)
Introduction (#u00e70bbc-ade0-5749-8144-81b8db3e91df)
About the Author (#u5667d289-bb0c-5fd2-83c6-32969447f6f9)
Title Page (#ucd7333b1-e4ae-52df-b262-dcd99a21b988)
Bible Verse (#u379a7de7-d339-59a7-bd92-6a5731c45978)
Dedication (#u1b995b56-690d-5add-8b05-c402656fbe35)
Chapter One (#u6ce7ba54-3681-5784-84bc-19ed1b67a93e)
Chapter Two (#u32c0f109-6e14-59a8-a681-500cf7f06371)
Chapter Three (#u976fcbb4-a1ec-5e35-b240-9194f56c33ef)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_17fafcad-7edc-5443-86c2-f797e5a1929f)
Logan Cooper grimaced as his gaze moved over the crisp white wedding invitation he held in his hands. One embossed with two shiny gold hearts with flowers woven around them. The matching fancy gold script announcing the specifics for his brother’s big day. A day filled with love and promises of happily-ever-after. But not all relationships had storybook endings. He knew that firsthand.
Nathan should know that, too.
A heavy sigh pushed past Logan’s lips.
How could his big brother have forgotten the depth of heartache that eventually came with loving someone? Either through something as painfully final as death, as was his brother’s case with his beloved wife, Isabel. Or by having the one who you love walk away, leaving your heart feeling as though it had just been trampled by a herd of stampeding cattle, as was the case with him and Hope.
Please, Lord, don’t let my brother be making a mistake by risking his heart again.
It wasn’t that Logan didn’t like Alyssa. She was everything good in a woman. Kind and caring. Compassionate and patient. All of which Nathan had needed desperately in his life. She’d brought him back from the brink of the emotional desolation he’d fallen into after Isabel’s death a little over two years before. Alyssa had even played a huge part in helping his brother find his way to the Lord again when no one else had been able to do so. But if something was to happen to her...
Logan shook the thought away. Nothing was going to happen to Alyssa. They wouldn’t let it. Setting the invitation and the fancy reply card that came with it onto the kitchen counter, he grabbed his truck keys, slapped his cowboy hat onto his head and headed outside. He had an order at Hope’s Garden to pick up.
Hope’s Garden. The local nursery, owned and run by Jack Dillan, had been named for Jack’s daughter, Hope, the girl Logan had once loved. He and Jack had been doing business together for years, despite the painful breakup that had gone on between Logan and Hope. Painful at least for him, because you had to love someone to be able to feel the pain that comes with losing them.
I don’t love you. Hope’s blurted-out declaration that day so long ago still rang in his ears. How had he been so wrong about her? About them? Shaking the ever-troubling past from his mind, he climbed into his truck and set off down the narrow dirt drive that fronted the three-bedroom log cabin his brothers had helped him build a few years before.
His gaze drifted upward as he peered out the front windshield, taking in the billowy dark clouds gathering in the morning sky above him. He prayed the rain would hold off until he’d picked up and delivered the trees he’d ordered for a job he was finishing up. Thankfully, the rain was expected to clear the area in a day or so, and temperatures were supposed to move up from the high fifties to the low seventies.
Thunder rumbled loudly in the distance as he turned off the main road and drove through the open gates of Hope’s Garden. “Hold off just a little longer,” Logan pleaded, casting a glance skyward. Loading and unloading trees in the cold and wet made for a miserable day.
A large greenhouse sat off to the left of the winding drive while rows of potted shrubs and trees lined the land to his right. Up ahead, the building that housed the checkout counter, and various fertilizers and assorted plant food options, looked an even brighter white against the darkening backdrop of that morning’s sky. To its right sat two more greenhouses, which held a large selection of potted annuals and perennials and thick, green ferns.
Parking near the entrance, Logan zipped up his jacket. raising its collar to protect himself against the bite of the spring wind gusting outside. Large drops of rain began to splatter across the windshield as he threw open the door, jumped down and made a sprint for the building’s entrance.
So much for beating the storm.
He hoped Jack had a fresh pot of coffee going. He could use a cup and he knew Jack would gladly offer.
Despite the unexpected and painful breakup he’d gone through with Hope nine years before, he and Jack had remained close. His friend had been every bit as stunned by the breakup as Logan had been. He’d fully expected them to marry after college and start working on a family of their own. When that hadn’t happened, Jack had given Logan a reason to get up every morning. He’d encouraged him to take what he’d learned while working for him at the nursery and start his own landscaping business.
Logan had taken the suggestion to heart, using his passion for trees and plants and flowers to build up a business that had taken root and had long since become one of the most sought-after landscaping service companies in the county. Logan would be the first to admit that he wouldn’t be where he was today without the unwavering trust and faith Jack had placed in his ability to start a business of his very own.
“Hello!” he called out as he pulled the glass entry door closed behind him.
Country music blared from the back office.
Grinning, Logan called out a little louder, “What’s a man gotta do to get some service around here?”
When Jack didn’t reply, he shook his head with a chuckle. His friend really did need to consider having his hearing checked. They’d made jokes about it in the recent months, but, in all seriousness, how did he expect to hear his customers when they came in with the radio blasting the way it was?
Logan rounded the counter and made his way down the short hallway to Jack’s office. One they had spent many a morning in before starting their workdays, talking over a cup of coffee and an occasional donut if Logan had time to run into town to pick some up for them on his way.
Reaching the office, he noticed the door had been left slightly ajar. The heady aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifted out into the hallway to join the music. Eager for a cup, Logan stepped into the room.
He’d no sooner opened his mouth to ask if his friend was trying to burst both of their eardrums with the radio cranked up so loud when his gaze dropped down from the vacant desk chair to the unmoving form on the floor beside the old oak desk.
“Jack!” Logan gasped, his gut twisting as he took in the sight of Hope’s father lying motionless on the cool, hardwood floor a few feet away. The radio lay on its side next to him along with an upturned aloe plant and the clay pot and soil it had once been nestled in.
Dear Lord, please don’t let Jack be gone.
* * *
The ringing of her cell phone had Hope Dillan stepping away from the filing cabinet where she’d been pulling several client files for the lunch meeting she had scheduled with the rest of Complete Solar Management’s marketing team that afternoon. Reaching into her desk, she dug inside her purse for her phone, wondering if there had been a change in place or time for their meeting.
A glance at the screen displayed a number she wasn’t familiar with. Bringing the phone to her ear, she said, “Hope Dillan speaking.”
“Hope, it’s Logan.”
She froze, anxiety immediately filling her. How had he gotten her cell phone number? Surely, her daddy wouldn’t have gone against her wishes and given it to him. Not after all these years. Years she’d spent doing everything she could to avoid crossing paths with Logan Cooper. Even changing her cell phone number, because Logan wasn’t a quitter and she wasn’t as strong as she’d like to be when it came to cutting all of her heartstrings where he was concerned.
Logan was the kind of man who, when he loved someone, did it with his whole heart. Even after she’d gone and broken it. If only things could have been different. If only God hadn’t decided to shatter her dreams. Their dreams.
“This really isn’t a good time,” she managed, her eyes tearing up as she spoke the words. She prayed she sounded less affected by his unexpected call than she felt at that moment. Because she was anything but unaffected. Her furiously pounding heart was proof enough of that.
The last time they’d spoken had been after the tornado struck Braxton, taking with it his parents, his sister-in-law and their neighbor, Mr. Timmons. She’d returned home for the funerals. How could she not? His family had been like her own.
“I had no choice,” he said. There was no missing the unsteadiness to his voice.
“Logan, we—”
“This isn’t about us,” he said, cutting her off. “I’m calling about Jack.”
“Daddy?” she said, her sense of panic shifting as his words settled in. “What about Daddy?” she demanded anxiously. She had just spoken with him the evening before and he had been his usual teasing self.
“He’s had some sort of spell.”
“What sort of spell?”
“I don’t know,” he said with a sigh. “I stopped by to pick up an order and found him on the floor in his office.”
A sob caught in her throat.
“I’ll know more once I get to the hospital,” he said.
The hospital?
“The ambulance just left,” he continued. “They’re taking him to County General as we speak. I’m headed there as soon as I close up the nursery.”
Hope shut her eyes, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. “Was he conscious?”
There was a brief hesitation on the other end of the line before Logan replied, “Not when I found him. But he was when they were loading him into the ambulance. He told me not to bother you at work, but I thought you would wanna know.”
“I appreciate your calling,” she said, shaking as she grabbed her purse from the open drawer. Then pushing away from her desk, she shot to her feet. “I’ll be there as soon as I can book a flight,” she said with forced calm, trying to hold it together when inside she was on the verge of falling apart. She couldn’t lose her daddy. He was all she had.
“Call when you get close to the hospital,” Logan said flatly. “I’ll make sure I’m gone before you get here.”
His stiffly spoken words broke her heart, knowing she had made him this way. Distant, almost hard. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Before she could respond, before she could tell him there was no need to leave on her account, he was gone. The line every bit as empty as she felt inside.
* * *
Logan sat next to Jack’s hospital bed, feeling helpless. A feeling that didn’t sit well with him. There had to be something more he could do for his friend. Jack had given him his first job. Had taught him everything he knew about flowers and plants and trees. And after encouraging him to take his passion for those things and start his own landscaping business, Jack had gone so far as to loan Logan the money to start that business up. He had long since paid Jack back the money he’d lent him. His business, Cooper Landscaping, had taken firm root. He had no doubt that his company’s success was due in large part to Jack Dillan’s support and guidance over the years, as well as his brothers’ bringing him in on several of their company’s construction projects. If the businesses or home owners contracting work through Cooper Construction were in need of landscaping to go with their newly built homes or businesses, Logan’s company was at the top of the recommended landscaper list his brothers provided to their clients. Being the only local landscaping company in the immediate area had no doubt helped, as well.
The steady hiss of oxygen being fed through the tube in Jack’s nose had Logan’s brow creasing in concern. He hated seeing his friend this way. Jack Dillan, at fifty-nine years of age, was still in his prime. He wasn’t the kind of man to sit around having others do things for him. He was a doer, grumbling anytime someone fussed over him. Except when Verna Simms stopped by to bring him some of her homemade chicken soup because she’d heard that he was suffering from a bout of the sniffles. He didn’t seem to mind the pretty widow and owner of Big Dogs, the local diner, coddling him. Not that Jack would ever admit to having a liking for the attention she paid to him. He was too set in his ways. But Logan knew better. Maybe he ought to give Verna a call. She’d have him back to his old self in no time. The thought of it brought a semblance of a smile to Logan’s tightly pressed lips.
Closing his eyes, he prayed for the Lord to give Jack the strength to pull through this health crisis. It had been hard enough having to call Hope with the news that her daddy was in the hospital. Now he was going to have to stick around, despite preferring to be gone when Hope arrived. Jack had asked him to call and tell Hope he was under the weather in case she tried to reach him, sugarcoating the truth and leaving out the details, which Logan refused to do. Hope needed to know the whole of it. Dragging a hand back through his own dark, wavy hair, he took in Jack’s pale face as he lay asleep in the hospital bed. “You’d best get to mending, old man. A lot of folks are gonna be counting on you for their garden flowers with spring being just around the corner.” He was gonna be counting on Jack to be there.
His gaze flicked to the clock on the wall, watching as the second hand made its painfully slow trip around the circle of numbers. Over and over. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Unable to sit there listening to the hiss of the oxygen and the beeping of the monitors any longer, Logan pushed out of the hospital chair and straightened his six-foot-four-inch frame. Casting one more glance down at his friend, he turned and made his way out of ICU. He figured he’d return a few work calls that had come in that morning. Anything to fill the time and keep his concern at bay.
The automatic doors eased closed behind him as Logan stepped out into the hallway. Digging into the front pocket of his jeans, he grabbed for his cell phone and had just settled back against the brightly lit corridor’s wall outside when a very feminine, all-too-familiar voice called out to him.
“Logan?”
His hand, still curled around his phone, dropped down to his side, his gaze shifting in the direction of the approaching hospital visitor. Hope. He stood frozen for a long moment, drinking in the sight of the woman he had once loved as she made her way toward him, wheeling a small floral suitcase behind her.
