Authors: Rosemary Cottage
Colleen Coble (38 page)
“Praise God,” he whispered in her hair. “I couldn’t bear to lose you, not now that I’ve found the love of my life.”
She swallowed hard. His heart beat strongly against her ear so maybe she hadn’t heard him right. “Did you hear what I said, Curtis? No children. Not ever. You’re a man who was made to be a father.” She couldn’t lift her head, couldn’t look him in the eye to see pity there where once she’d seen tenderness.
His big hands gripped her shoulders, and he pulled her away to stare in her face. His eyes were tender and earnest. “It’s a good thing we have Raine then, isn’t it? Because I can see that mothering spirit in you. And we could always adopt if we want more. There are lots of children in the world who need a home.”
Her mouth trembled. “But what about the cancer? What if it comes back?”
He drew her close and rested his chin on her head. “Honey, we have
this
day, this hour. And that’s enough. None of us can predict how long we have. I could die before you. We take what God gives us.”
She pulled away and stared into his face. “You still want me? Even barren?” She blinked at the burning moisture in her eyes. “I was engaged once. He was from a well-known family and was expected to produce an heir. He broke the engagement the day after my surgery.”
His fingers convulsed on her arms. “The scumbag.” His voice was tight. “His loss is my gain though.”
He bent his head and kissed her again. His lips held a sweet promise. She was breathless when he lifted his head. “Convinced?” His eyes were teasing.
“I’m not sure,” she murmured. “Maybe you’d better try that one more time.”
But as he bent his head, Tom exited the door of the house, shouting, “They’ve found Raine! Heather remembered something and rescued her. Let’s go!”
Adrenaline kicked Amy into action, and together they ran for the Jeep. “Thank you, God.”
Only one small house light twinkled in the dark landscape below. The chopper swooped down to land, and Curtis gripped Amy’s hand. In a few minutes, he’d have Raine back in his arms. “They said she was fine. I can’t believe it.”
“And Heather rescued her.” Amy shook her head. “I can’t wrap my head around that part. She’s just a kid herself, you know.”
On the flight, Tom had told them that the cocaine had been traced to Grant. He’d used Gina’s empty apartment for pickup after he’d gotten hooked on the drug himself. Ben had given him the key for a cut of the profit and some of the stash as well. At least Gina hadn’t been part of that. Preston had also been taken into custody for questioning about his part in Raine’s kidnapping.
The helicopter began to descend. Several people were on the porch of the house, and he strained to identify his niece, but it was too dark to make out more than just outlines. When the rails touched the ground and the rotor began to whir slower, he pushed open the door and jumped out, then turned to help Amy.
“Watch your head!” he shouted over the rotor noise.
Bent almost double, the two of them ran for the house. Emerging into the wash of light from the porch lamp, he stared at the figures on the porch. Edith held Raine.
Her face red and blotchy from happy tears, Edith lifted the little girl toward him. “She’s fine, Curtis, just fine!”
“Raine!” Curtis barely managed to whisper her name.
The little girl reached for him. His eyes stung as he stepped onto the porch and took her in his arms. Her small hands patted his face, and she kissed him. He inhaled the sweet scent of her,
the feel of her in his arms, and his eyes welled. “Oh, honey, are you okay?”
She babbled something he couldn’t understand and gave him a grin that melted him into a puddle right there. His throat closed, and he looked at Amy, who was weeping unabashedly. “Look who’s here to see you.” He turned Raine so she saw Amy.
The little one reached for Amy. “Mom.” She hesitated and clutched him again as though she couldn’t bear to let go of him. Which was fine with him.
Amy smiled through her tears. “She’s clean and looks well cared for, Curtis. God heard our prayers.” She reached out and caressed Raine’s silky dark curls. “We’re so glad to see you, honey.”
The baby babbled something again, then offered Amy the small doll clutched in her hand. Amy took it and put the doll on her shoulder. Raine smiled wider, then reached again for Amy, who quickly leaned over to brush her lips against the baby’s soft cheek.
Amy pulled away, and Raine clutched Curtis’s shirt again. Amy’s smile was wide. “I don’t think she’s leaving your arms. I know I never plan to.”
He put one arm around her and turned to speak with his aunt. “I wouldn’t let you anyway.”
Edith was still crying. “She’s home, Curtis. God took care of her.”
He wished he had another arm to hug his aunt. “I know, I know.” Amy’s eyes were smiling, and he knew she wanted Edith to know their good news. “Um, there are going to be changes at the house. But we don’t want you going anywhere.”
Edith’s eyes went wide and scared. “Changes?”
“A move is in our future.”
“Move?” Edith’s voice was careful.
“You’ve always loved Rosemary Cottage. How’d you like to live there? Well, as soon as we can arrange a wedding. And we’re both going to finalize Raine’s adoption.”
Edith’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my stars,” she said, punctuating every word.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” He scooped Amy closer.
Raine put her hand on Amy’s arm. “Stay,” she said in a contented voice.
I
’m so excited to share
Rosemary
Cottage
with you! The story has been a real labor of love. You may not know this, but I lost one of my brothers in a terrible lightning accident in 1990. My life was forever changed that day, and I still miss him. I often find myself daydreaming about him walking in the door, still alive. But I know Randy
is
still alive in heaven, more alive than he’s ever been.
I loved how Amy struggled with being real in her life. That’s such a common thing in our society, isn’t it? I struggle with it myself. I’m a positive person and hate to complain or bring someone else down. But being real is how we’re supposed to behave. I’ll work on it if you will, okay?
I’m a bit of a “healer” myself and am always trying to solve health problems for my friends. I’m very interested in natural medicine, and it was fun to put some of my obsessions into Amy’s character—like Bulletproof Coffee made with Toomer’s infrared roasted coffee. That’s coffee with MCT oil and butter whipped in the blender. I know it sounds terrible, but it tastes a lot like coffee with cream, and it’s so good for you. I drink it every day. And I’ve recently discovered the benefits of cold immersion (thanks to Dr. Jack Kruse) so I had to have Edith surfing in cold water. I tell everyone that nothing is sacred when it comes to writing. Anything my
family does or I do ends up making its way into the pages of one of my books!
As always, I love to hear from you! E-mail me anytime at [email protected].
Your friend,
Colleen
1. What is your favorite part of the Hope Beach setting?
2. How well do you think you know your siblings or other people close to you? What would shock you?
3. Is there someplace from your childhood where you would want to go to find solace? What is special about it?
4. What did you think of Curtis’s decision to keep Raine’s parentage to himself?
5. Have you ever kept something to yourself because it was too painful to talk about? What helped you get past the pain?
6. Do you know a midwife or have you had any experience with home birth?
7. Amy was a natural healer. Have you ever known anyone like that, or are
you
like that?
8. Heather was taken in by Grant’s smooth talk and good looks. Why do you think she was so easily persuaded?
M
y team at Thomas Nelson is a dream to work with. I can’t imagine writing without my editor, Ami McConnell. I crave her analytical eye and love her heart. Ames, you are truly like a daughter to me. Our fiction publisher, Daisy Hutton, is a gale-force wind of fresh air. Love her already! Marketing manager Katie Bond is always willing to listen to my harebrained ideas and has been completely supportive for years. I wouldn’t get far without you, friend! Fabulous cover guru Kristen Vasgaard works hard to create the perfect cover—and does. You rock, Kristen! And, of course, I can’t forget my other friends who are all part of my amazing fiction family: Amanda Bostic, Becky Monds, Jodi Hughes, Kerri Potts, Ruthie Dean, Heather McCulloch, and Laura Dickerson. You are all such a big part of my life. I wish I could name all the great folks at Thomas Nelson who work on selling my books through different venues. I’m truly blessed!
Julee Schwarzburg is a dream editor to work with. She totally gets romantic suspense, and our partnership is a joy. Thanks for all your hard work to make this book so much better!
My agent, Karen Solem, has helped shape my career in many ways, and that includes kicking an idea to the curb when necessary. Thanks, Karen, you’re the best!
Writing can be a lonely business, but God has blessed me with
great writing friends and critique partners. Hannah Alexander (Cheryl Hodde), Kristin Billerbeck, Diann Hunt, and Denise Hunter make up the Girls Write Out squad (
www.GirlsWriteOut.blogspot.com
). I couldn’t make it through a day without my peeps! Thanks to all of you for the work you do on my behalf and for your friendship. Thank you, friends!
I’m so grateful for my husband, Dave, who carts me around from city to city, washes towels, and chases down dinner without complaint. As I type this, he has been free of prostate cancer for nearly two years, and we’re so thankful! My kids—Dave and Kara (and now Donna and Mark)—and my grandsons, James and Jorden Packer, love and support me in every way possible. Love you guys! Donna and Dave brought me the delight of my life—our little granddaughter, Alexa! She’s talking like a grown-up now, and having her spend the night is more fun than I can tell you.
Most important, I give my thanks to God, who has opened such amazing doors for me and makes the journey a golden one.
I
t was days like this, when the sun bounced off Lake Superior with an eye-squinting brilliance, that Bree Nicholls forgot all her qualms about living where the Snow King ruled nine months of the year. There was no other place on earth like the U.P.—Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. With Keweenaw Peninsula to the north and Ottawa National Forest to the south, there could be no more beautiful spot in the world. The cold, crystal-clear waters of the northernmost Great Lake stretched to the horizon as far as she could see.
But she’d never find those kids by focusing on the seascape. Pressing her foot to the accelerator, she left the lake behind as she urged her old Jeep Cherokee forward along the rutted dirt track. Bree’s best friend, Naomi Heinonen, steadied herself against the door’s armrest and looked over her shoulder at the two dogs still safely confined in their kennels. The Kitchigami Wilderness Preserve lay to the east, past Miser, a drive of only fifteen miles or so, but on this washboard road, it took longer than Bree liked.
“Don’t kill us getting there,” Naomi shouted above the road noise.
Bree didn’t reply. These lost children weren’t some vacationers without ties; they were residents of Rock Harbor, two of their own. And night would be here soon. If Naomi were driving, her foot would be heavy on the accelerator too. The preserve was a formidable tract that could swallow up two kids without a trace.
The wind churned autumn’s red and gold leaves in eddies
and blew them across the road like brightly colored tumbleweeds. Equally colorful trees crowded the hills like giant banks of mums. The U.P. in autumn was Bree’s favorite time, except when evershorter days put strangleholds on their search efforts.