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“Hope,” he replied, shoving his cell phone back into his jeans pocket as he pushed away from the wall. Her wide green eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. Her normally beautiful, sun-kissed face void of color.
“I know I was supposed to call when I got in,” she said, sounding panicked. “But my flight was delayed and all I could think about when we finally landed was getting here as quickly as I could.”
“Your daddy’s gonna be okay,” he told her with less conviction than he’d like to have put across. He had to be. Hope needed him. He needed Jack, truth be told. The older man was like a second father to him.
Sniffling, she brushed away a stray tear that had started down her cheek. Then she looked up, searching his gaze. “Have you heard anything yet?”
Instinct had him wanting to reach out and comfort her. But it was better to keep his distance where Hope was concerned. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, to tuck away the emotions Hope never failed to stir in him. Hurt. Anger. Resentment. Longing.
“Logan,” she said, the urgent plea pulling him from his troubled thoughts. “Please tell me.”
He heaved a heavy sigh. “The doctor stopped by to look in on your daddy about thirty minutes or so ago. He told us that the tests they’d run so far have confirmed that Jack suffered a stroke.”
“A stroke?” Hope gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She shook her head in denial, sending long, coppery curls bouncing over her slender shoulders. “That can’t be. He’s not old enough. He doesn’t even smoke,” she went on as denial took hold.
He nodded. “I know. They’re still running a few more tests, but the doctor’s pretty confident Jack’s high blood pressure contributed to his having the stroke.”
Confusion filled her green eyes. “But Daddy doesn’t have high blood pressure.”
He frowned, knowing that Jack had probably kept that information to himself to keep Hope from worrying over him.
Understanding dawned in her eyes as she took in his reaction to her words. “He does,” she said, the words a mere whisper.
Logan nodded. “Yes.”
“And you knew about it?” she said, more a statement than an actual question.
“Jack made mention of it a while back,” he admitted.
“And you didn’t think to call and let me know he was having health issues?”
“I didn’t have your contact information,” he said soberly. “The only reason I was able to reach you today was because I got your number from Jack’s cell phone to make the call.”
“Oh,” she said, guilt lacing her tone. Her gaze dropped to the front of his shirt. “I’m sorry. None of this is your fault. I shouldn’t have snapped at you that way.”
“Don’t apologize,” he told her. “You’re upset. It’s understandable. We just have to keep in mind that this isn’t about us.”
“Agreed.”
“Our focus needs to be on getting Jack back on his feet.”
Her chin snapped up, her tear-filled eyes searching his. “So he really is gonna be all right?”
“He got to the hospital in time to put the odds back in his favor,” he explained, repeating the doctor’s earlier words.
“Thanks to you.”
“Thanks to the Lord,” he muttered. God had put him in the right place at the right time. “They need to get your daddy back on his medication, make adjustments as necessary to get his blood pressure under control. Once that’s done, he should be his old self.”
“Back on?”
“Apparently, Jack decided to stop taking his blood pressure medication about four months or so ago because he’d been feeling so well.”
“Oh, Daddy,” she groaned.
“There’s a good possibility he’s gonna require physical therapy of some sort, because he’s experiencing some muscle weakness on one side, mostly with his arm. Barring any unforeseen issues, he should make a near, if not complete, recovery.”
More tears sprung to her eyes. “I should get in there,” she said, her gaze drifting to the double doors leading into ICU.
“I’ll walk you back,” he said as he reached for the handle of her suitcase. “Jack’s in the first room on the left.” If one could call the small, glass-enclosed cubicle where patients could be monitored visually as well as with machines a room.
“Is he conscious?” she asked fearfully.
“Yes,” he answered with a nod as the ICU doors swung open. “However, he was sleeping when I stepped out here to return a few work calls.”
“Did you tell him I was on my way?” she asked as they entered the intensive care unit.
“He doesn’t know that you’re aware he’s in here,” he said evenly. “He didn’t wanna cause you any worry.”
“I’m glad you called,” she said. “Not that Daddy will be, I’m sure. The man’s too proud for his own good.”
Logan gave a shrug. “I did what needed done. He’ll get over it.” Jack had never been a man to hold grudges.
Hope stopped just outside the cubicle, staring at her daddy through the floor-to-ceiling wall of windows. “He looks so helpless. He’s never been helpless,” she said, biting at her bottom lip.
Logan stepped up beside her, his gaze focused on the man beyond the glass. “Don’t worry. You know Jack’s got more grit in him than most men I know. You’ve just gotta trust in the Lord to watch over him.”
“Where was the Lord when Daddy had his stroke?”
She sounded so bitter. Not at all like the Hope that he used to know. But the woman he’d thought he’d once known was little more than a stranger to him now. She’d seen to that.
“He was there,” he assured her. “I know it’s hard to see your daddy all hooked up to wires and tubes, but you’ve gotta stay strong for his sake,” he told her, resisting the urge to reach for her hand as he would have done back when they were a couple. Back when he was a naive teenage boy who thought he knew what true love was.
He watched as she shored up her slender shoulders. No doubt gathering the emotional courage to step into the room, into the reality of the situation she found herself in.
Logan followed, wheeling her suitcase up against the glass wall by the entrance where he stood waiting, giving Hope a moment of privacy as she moved to stand beside Jack’s hospital bed.
Reaching for Jack’s limp hand, Hope covered it with her own. “Oh, Daddy,” she said as her worried gaze took in the medical equipment that surrounded the head of his hospital bed. Leaning over the bed rail, she said softly, “Daddy, it’s Hope. Can you hear me?”
He stirred, his lashes lifting slightly as he peered up at his only child. “Baby girl?” he said, his thick brows furrowing in confusion.
She managed a bright smile, as she settled into the chair next to the bed rail. “You gave me a scare.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked in surprise.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
“But how did you know I was...” His words trailed off as his tired gaze shifted to where Logan stood waiting. One lone salt-and-pepper brow lifted. “You called her?”
He nodded. Not that he’d wanted to. “She had a right to know.”
“Not one for sticking to the plan, I see,” Jack grumbled.
“No, sir,” Logan replied with a shake of his head as he stepped closer. “Not when it means keeping something this serious from your daughter.” No matter how poorly things had ended between the two of them, he knew what it was like to lose a parent. Hope had already lost her momma. If Jack, God forbid, took a turn for the worse, she deserved the chance to say goodbye. Even if she had pretty much abandoned Jack when she’d moved away, her visits too few and far too short. Jack deserved more from his only child.
“I see,” his friend said with clear disapproval.
Betraying Jack wasn’t something Logan had done lightly. But his momma had raised him to do the right thing. This, in his opinion, had been the right thing to do, whether Jack liked it or not. “I’d do it again if the situation called for it,” he admitted.
Hope turned her head, looking up at him. “And I thank you. I’m sure it wasn’t an easy call to make, seeing as how Daddy asked you to keep this to yourself.”
She had no idea how difficult. Not only because of the news he’d had to give her, but also because hearing her sweet voice again had succeeded in twisting him up in emotional knots all over again. It had also stirred up the bitterness and hurt he’d long since tucked away.
“If not for your finding Daddy...” she continued, emotion drawing her voice tight.
“Yes,” Jack agreed with a nod. “If you hadn’t been there... Thank you, son. For everything.”
“Don’t thank me,” he told the older man with a smile. “Thank the man above. Appears He’s still got plans for you.”
“Appears that way.”
“Well, now that you’ve got family here, I’ll be on my way,” he said, needing to put some distance between himself and Hope. Pulling Jack’s smartphone from the front pocket of his flannel shirt, Logan placed it atop the narrow lap table that hovered over the foot of Jack’s hospital bed. “In case you need to reach me. Take care of yourself, Jack. I’ll be by tomorrow to check on you.” Looking to Jack’s daughter, he tipped his hat. “Hope.” Then turning, he made his way toward the open doorway.
“Logan,” Jack called after him, his voice weak.
He stopped then turned to find knowing eyes watching him.
“Everything will work itself out, son. The good Lord’s got plans for you, as well.”
He didn’t miss Hope stiffening at her daddy’s words of faith in the Lord. Just as she had earlier.
He acknowledged Jack’s words with another nod and then walked out of the ICU room. Back to what he knew best—landscaping.
But when his thoughts should have turned to that day’s business, they stubbornly refused. They were caught up in the change he’d seen in Hope. She wasn’t the sweet, smiling girl he remembered. The one he’d spent countless Sundays sitting beside in church all those years ago. The one he’d laughed with. Learned with. Loved. No, the woman he’d seen today had lost that spark of joy that used to light her green eyes. Even more troubling, she seemed to have lost her trust in God’s will.
He sighed, wishing he could push the troubling thoughts away. Getting caught up in Hope again wasn’t something he would ever allow to happen. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t affected by her rejection of a faith she’d once held dear.
Granted, there had been a time when her trust in the Lord had been shaken. Right after her momma had lost her long, courageous battle with cancer. But she’d been young and scared and hurting. His momma, who had been close with Hope’s, had done her best to step in and help fill in some of the void. She’d also been there to help an eleven-year-old little girl understand and accept that the Lord had a far greater plan for her momma.
Now he had to wonder if Hope had ever really accepted that. Had she merely put on a front about having faith all these years just as his own brother had done after the loss of his wife? Logan couldn’t even begin to guess what was going on inside her head. He’d already been so wrong about so many things where Hope Dillan was concerned. Best thing for him to do was keep his distance.
* * *
Hope watched him go, tears pooling up in her eyes. Logan Cooper was no longer the boy that she had fallen in love with all those years ago. He was a full-grown man. Tall, lean, broad-shouldered and with an even greater ability to make her heart pound. He was everything she had always dreamed about. Everything she could ever hope for. Not that it mattered. She had lost him long ago.
Frowning, she turned back to her daddy, who was watching her, his tightly pressed lips pulling downward. “Are you hurting?” she asked worriedly, forcing all thoughts of Logan Cooper from her mind.
“I’m thinking I should be asking you that question,” her daddy said.
She forced a smile. “I’m not the one lying in a hospital bed. Now stop worrying yourself over me.”
“No can do, honey,” he replied. “You’re my baby girl. It’s my job to worry over you.”
“Well, there isn’t anything to be concerned about,” she said, wondering if she was trying to convince her daddy or herself. Seeing Logan again, talking to him again, being so near to him, had left her thoroughly shaken. Pushing thoughts of him from her mind, she said, “And it’s my turn to worry about you. Not the other way around.” Standing, she reached out to dim the light over the hospital bed. “Now get some rest. We can talk more later.”
Jack nodded, his heavy-lidded eyes drifting shut.
Hope sat watching him for a long time, knowing how close she had come to losing him. The thought of no longer having him in her life had shaken her to the core. The Lord had already taken her mother away. A hurt that had only deepened when she’d learned she would probably never be a mother herself.
As it had so many times over the past nine years, a deep ache filled her at the thought. Her hand moved to smooth over her flat stomach, unshed tears filling her eyes. It would never grow round with a child. She would never feel the stirrings of life that came with carrying a baby of her own. Never find the true happiness she’d come so close to having before her life as she had known it came crashing down around her.
Chapter Two (#ulink_04e92e99-ceb6-5c63-a0d6-052284bbd811)
“Logan?” his brother said, concern knitting his brows as he studied Logan from across the door’s threshold. Boone, the bloodhound mix Carter had adopted from the pound for Audra’s children, stood faithfully at his side.
“I know it’s late,” Logan began apologetically as he reached down to give the dog a scruff behind his ear.
“It’s never too late for family,” Carter countered. “Come on in.” He stepped aside, Boone moving with him as he swung the front porch door open wider.
Removing his cowboy hat, Logan made his way inside, his gaze sweeping the entryway of the old farmhouse his brother’s wife had purchased when she’d moved to Texas from Chicago with her two young children. Carter, who co-owned Cooper Construction with their brother, Nathan, had helped Audra with renovations on her house and the two had ended up falling in love. Now married and on the verge of adding to their already existent brood, Carter was happier than Logan had ever seen him.
“Audra in bed already?” Logan asked with a glance toward the stairs. He knew the children would be for sure. They both had school in the morning.
“Not yet,” his brother replied. “She’s in the kitchen cleaning up after the finger painting session she had with our little artists in the making after dinner. Who knew my wife was such a messy finger painter?”
“Maybe Alyssa could give her finger painting lessons,” he suggested with a grin. Their oldest brother Nathan’s fiancée had a degree in interior design and had taught art classes to children at the rec center where she used to live while working part-time for an interior design firm. Not wanting to be so far away from his brother and his little girl, Katie, Alyssa had left the life she had built for herself in San Antonio and was now teaching art classes on weekends at Braxton’s newly built recreation center. She was also in charge of interior design for any of Cooper Construction’s projects that called for it.
His brother nodded. “Might have to consider that.”
Logan cast a glance toward the front door. He really should go. Not stick around to lay his problems at his brother’s feet. Carter already had his plate full with a new wife, helping to raise her two beautiful children, whom he’d recently adopted, and a baby on the way.
“I know that look.”
He looked back at his brother. “What look?”
“The one that says you’re considering making a run for the hills,” Carter replied.
When they were teens and something upset them, one or all of them would take to the hills where they’d hike and camp and work through whatever it was that was bothering them. There was just something about the peace and tranquility of being surrounded by nature, not to mention the feeling of being closer to God that being higher up in the hills gave a man. But when it came to his troubled thoughts where Hope was concerned, there would be no answers.
“I feel like it,” he answered honestly. If he thought it would help to clear his head, he’d be driving up into the hills right now. Instead, he’d come seeking his brother’s counsel.
“So what’s up?”
“Jack’s in the hospital,” he said with a heavy sigh, struggling to keep the tide of emotion from washing over him.
Concern immediately lit Carter’s eyes. Understandably so. They were all close with Jack Dillan. “What happened?”
Logan dragged a hand back through the thick waves of his hair. “He suffered a stroke at work this morning. I found him on the floor of his office when I stopped by to pick up an order.”
