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Lakeside Family
Lisa Jordan
HIS SECRET DAUGHTER In the space of a minute, Nick Brennan learns he has a nine-year-old daughter—and that she desperately needs his help. All this time, his high school sweetheart, single mother Josie Peretti, thought he knew about their child. And that he just didn’t care. About the ill little girl—or Josie, the woman he’s never forgotten.But Nick made a long-ago promise to never foresake his family the way his father did. A promise he vows to make good on now . . . if only Josie will bless him with a second chance.
His Secret Daughter
In the space of a minute, Nick Brennan learns he has a nine-year-old daughter—and that she desperately needs his help. All this time, his high school sweetheart, single mother Josie Peretti, thought he knew about their child. And that he just didn’t care. About the ill little girl—or Josie, the woman he’s never forgotten. But Nick made a long-ago promise never to forsake his family the way his father did. A promise he vows to make good on now... if only Josie will bless him with a second chance.
“Are you saying I can’t take care of my own daughter, Nick?”
“Our daughter, Josie. You need to remember I’m a part of her life now.”
“You didn’t know she existed until I told you.”
Nick frowned. “She’s still my responsibility. Your stubborn pride is getting in your way.”
“This has nothing to do with pride.” She pushed away from him and stared out the kitchen window. “You had no right to stick your nose in where it didn’t belong.”
“Would you listen to yourself? This has everything to do with pride, Josie. You’re so bent on doing everything for yourself that you won’t let me step in to help. What’s the big deal?”
She gritted her teeth and glared at him. “I didn’t ask for your help.”
“No, because you think you have to carry every burden by yourself.” He gentled his voice. “When are you going to look around and see how much people care about you?”
Why couldn’t he understand she couldn’t count on anyone but herself?
LISA JORDAN
has been writing for over a decade, taking a hiatus to earn her degree in early childhood education. By day, she operates an in-home family child-care business. By night, she writes contemporary Christian romances. Being a wife to her real-life hero and mother to two young adult men overflow her cup of blessings. In her spare time, she loves reading, knitting and hanging out with family and friends. Learn more about her at www.lisajordanbooks.com.
Lakeside Family
Lisa Jordan
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
May the God of hope fill you with all joy
and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
—Romans 15:13
For Lilly, my sunshine. You are the light of my blueberry. And the light of my heart. Thank you for teaching us
what special really means. For Lynn and Woody—
when God chose parents for Lilly, He couldn’t have made
a finer match. You are my heroes.
For Your glory, Lord. Without You, none of this is possible.
Acknowledgments
Michelle Lim, brainstorming queen, whom I have the pleasure to call friend and critique partner, thank you for helping me uncover Josie’s story. Your brilliance dazzles me.
Kym Mullins, your sacrificial gift gave someone
another chance at life. You are a blessing, friend.
Thank you for sharing your experience.
Kathy Hurst and Lon Hurst, thank you for the ambulance photos and information about EMTs. Any mistakes are mine.
Dr. Amy Lindberg, thank you for sharing information
about the National Marrow Donor Program.
More than that, I treasure your friendship.
Dr. Ronda Wells, thank you again for your medical wisdom. Any mistakes are my own.
Dr. Reba J. Hoffman and Beth K. Vogt,
thank you for your wisdom and red pens.
Susan May Warren and Rachel Hauck—Josie and Nick survived the Circle of Insecurity. Thanks for your
amazing mentorship and consistent faith in me!
Rachelle Gardner, my wonderful agent, and Melissa Endlich, my wonderful editor, thank you for believing in me and teaming to help share my books with readers.
Thank you to the rest of the Love Inspired team
for your hand in bringing my book to print.
As always, thank you to Patrick, Scott and Mitchell.
Your continued support and encouragement inspire me
to keep writing. I love you forever.
Contents
Chapter One (#u60d3f64c-3c38-5e44-a4ef-8cb85f2d2fe4)
Chapter Two (#u862c09d5-47ca-531e-8f31-7997efa6a13d)
Chapter Three (#u62d8ee53-8ff5-55b9-a80f-284899ac4d73)
Chapter Four (#u81558ef4-97b8-54f6-bd5a-fce8a6c8af3b)
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)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Josie had spent the past ten years trying to forget Nickolas Brennan existed. And now she needed him more than ever.
Hard to believe after all this time he worked less than two hours from where she lived.
She climbed out of her car, slammed the door and pulled her wool coat tighter. Flipping up the collar to ward off the chill slithering down her spine, Josie slid her purse over her shoulder and trudged through the slushy parking lot toward Twain Hall. The aged brick building, which housed the English department, crested a small knoll with a familiarity to the campus as worn leather patches on a tweed blazer.
Freezing rain stung her cheeks as she waited at the corner for a snow plow to lumber past, leaving a trail of salt on the icy blacktop.
She’d give up her family’s secret Italian doughnut recipe to be lying on a tropical beach somewhere. Anywhere. Didn’t matter as long as sun, sand and surf were involved. And she and Hannah could build sand castles that withstood the constant crashes of life’s harsh realities.
Someday.
She hurried across the street and stared at Twain Hall, with its arched stone doorway and faded redbrick exterior. Evergreen shrubs lipped the building. Two stout trees guarded the wide steps, their bare limbs hunching over the sidewalk, bearing winter’s burden.
No going back now.
Passing through the double doors, she paused to wipe her wet feet on the nubby industrial mat. The scent of disinfectant scorched her throat. Varnished wood molding, walls painted the color of aged parchment and gleaming tile floors greeted her. Photos in heavy wooden frames of men and women wearing stern expressions eyed her from the opposite wall as she passed by. Was Nick’s picture among them? She didn’t stop to check.
Upholstered chairs clustered around a circular table dotted with Starbucks cups where a small group of students gathered. Several balanced open laptops while leafing through textbooks and scribbling in notebooks. One guy lounged with his stretched-out legs crossed at the ankles and head back. His snores bounced off the frosted windows.
A woman, who appeared to be a little older than the other students, sat away from them, but watched with a wistful expression on her face. Josie caught her gaze and smiled, totally understanding how it felt to be on the outside of the circle.
While her friends had shopped for homecoming gowns and pedicures, Josie had bought maternity clothes and put together a nursery. Forget about graduation. Too humiliated to return to school, she had begged her father to homeschool her during her senior year. Her diploma came in the mail.
Josie shelved the memory and focused on her reason for being on campus. She followed the signs to the office and nearly choked on the floral perfume that saturated the air.
A young woman with straight salon-highlighted hair and wearing a black-and-silver Linwood Park Knights hoodie stood behind a counter, texting on her cell phone. Seeing Josie, she closed her phone and tucked it into the back pocket of her skinny jeans. “May I help you?”
Josie closed her fingers around the scrap of paper with Nick’s office address, gripping it as if it were a lifeline. “I’m, uh, looking for Dr. Brennan.”
“He’s not in.” The girl, probably a work-study student, pulled out her phone as if to say their conversation was over.
Not so fast, honey.
She should’ve called. But she couldn’t risk him refusing to see her. He had to say yes. Had to.
Josie peeled off her turquoise leather gloves and shoved them in her coat pocket. “Do you know when he will be back?”
“He has class on Monday at eight.” She blew a pink bubble and popped it, not even bothering to look up from her texting.
She couldn’t wait until Monday. She needed to talk to him now.
Josie gripped the edge of the counter and fought to keep her voice calm. “Is there a way to reach him?”
“Leave him a voice mail, I guess.”
“I really need to talk to Dr. Brennan.” Josie cringed at the desperation seeping into her voice. She paused a second to regroup. “If I leave my number with you, would you call him and ask him to contact me as quickly as possible?”
“I guess.” Again, she didn’t bother looking up from where her thumbs danced across the keypad.
Josie balled her hands to keep from reaching over the counter and snatching the phone out of the girl’s hands. “You guess? Listen, honey. Talking with Dr. Brennan is about the last thing on my want-to-do list for today, but my daughter’s life depends on it. So, how about if you stow your phone along with your snotty attitude and try to be a little helpful?”
Campus Barbie rolled her eyes. She closed her phone and shoved it into her back pocket. She flashed a toothpaste commercial smile. “How can I help you?”
If she didn’t need to see Nick so badly, she’d tell the girl exactly how she could help. But Hannah depended on her.
Josie pulled out a business card, scribbled her cell phone number on the back and slid it across the counter. “He can reach me at this number—day or night. Please contact him and have him call me as quickly as possible.”
The girl took her card and nodded toward an older woman wearing a navy suit sitting at a computer with a phone cradled on her shoulder. “I’ll give it to Irene. I have to head to class in ten minutes.”
