Season Of Hope. Lisa Jordan

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      “My sister, Kendra, is deployed overseas, so I have temporary custody of her four-year-old daughter, Annabeth. We need a...safe place to live. Staying with Aunt Claudia isn’t an option since her lease doesn’t allow long-term guests. Help me get the house ready to move into, and you can use the rest of the acreage for your project.”

      “Sell it to me. Then you can have the money for something that won’t need work.”

      “I don’t want to sell.”

      “Why not?”

      She raised her chin. “I have my reasons. That’s my offer. How are you raising awareness for your program?”

      “Haven’t had time for that yet. Still working on grant paperwork. We need funds to get the program started.”

      “I’ve planned awareness campaigns for charities and different organizations. I could do a fund-raiser for you. And I’m good at what I do.”

      “At what cost?”

      “No charge. A trade of services. It’s a worthy cause, and I want to help.”

      Jake retrieved his gloves and slid them on. He reached for the pitchfork and headed to the back of the barn.

      Tori tamped down the familiar feeling of rejection and walked over to where she’d kicked off her shoes. After sliding her feet back into them, she followed Jake. “You have twenty-four hours to think about it, then the offer’s off the table.”

      He jammed the fork into a bale and glared at her. He threw his hands in the air as his voice rose. “Man, Tori. Give me a break, will you? I haven’t heard from you in six years. You ignored my phone calls and letters when all I wanted was the answer to one simple question—why? Instead of hearing from you, I get divorce papers handed to me through my commanding officer with orders not to contact you or else face charges. So excuse me for being a little gun-shy.”

      “I’m sorry. That’s not how I wanted things to happen.”

      “You didn’t stop it.”

      Tori crossed to the open window that overlooked the barnyard. Tears blurred her vision as her voice dropped to a whisper. “I couldn’t.”

      Unwelcome memories swirled in her head, tangling with her thoughts and roping her emotions. She didn’t want to remember the pain ripping through her body or hear the whine of the ambulance as it rushed her to the hospital. Or relive the sympathetic tone of the doctor as he broke the news. Or the convincing tone in her father’s voice as he tried to suggest he had only her best interests at heart.

       Tell him.

      Not here. Not now.

      “Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t?” Jake stood behind her.

      She whirled around, fisted her hands on her hips, then poked a finger into his chest. “These last six years haven’t been a picnic for me either. There’s so much you don’t know. If I could change the past, I would. Since I can’t, all I can do is make a fresh start. A safe place to care for my niece while her mother finishes her deployment, and maybe, if it’s not asking too much, a chance to make amends. I’m sorry I hurt you, Jake. It was wrong, and I regret it more than anything. But I’ve lost a lot, too.” She brushed past him and caught her foot, turning her ankle. Pain lanced her leg. She reached down and rubbed her throbbing joint. “You were right about one thing, the barn is no place for a sundress and high heels. Twenty-four hours. You know where to find me.”

      “Wait.”

      She stopped, keeping her back to him. The fatigue in his voice nearly unraveled her. More than anything, she wanted to wrap her arms around him, but that was impossible. He didn’t want her around, let alone to be touched by her. She clenched her jaw, mentally preparing for another round.

      “Be here at nine thirty tomorrow morning. And wear something more appropriate for getting dirty.”

      Tori nodded, headed out the door and stomped back to her car.

      Like it or not, Jacob Holland, she was sticking around.

      Even though she knew it couldn’t be, her heart longed for that second chance.

      To fix what she’d broken. But that wasn’t possible.

      Because once he learned the truth—what they’d truly lost—he’d want nothing to do with her again. But, for now, she wasn’t ready to risk being out of his life forever. So she’d stay and prove she was good at keeping her word this time—with the wild hope it didn’t destroy them both. Again.

       Chapter Two

      Jake needed to have his head examined. Why did he tell Tori to be here this morning? Hadn’t he been tortured enough with seeing her yesterday?

      But this wasn’t about him.

      He’d suck it up, even if that meant spending time with the one woman he longed to forget.

      Like that was even possible.

      Jake finished hosing down the floor inside the milk house, directing the water toward the drain under the milk tank. Wiping his hands on the legs of his jeans, he grabbed his empty travel mug, headed outside and breathed in a lungful of cool morning air—a welcoming contrast to the warm, steamy milk house—and allowed the breeze to whisk over his sweaty face.

      A line of chickens clucked as they hurried to the coop next to the milk barn. Cows lumbered for the shade trees in the pasture across the road. Soon, his niece and nephew would be awake, and then there wouldn’t be any quiet until bedtime. Not that Jake cared. He loved hanging out with Olivia and Landon.

      Cuddles, a butterscotch-colored barn cat his niece had named, curled around his ankles. Jake scooped her up. Purring, she nuzzled his neck. “Good morning, Mama. Where are your kittens?”

      He glanced at the open barn door and found the three kittens batting at each other. Jake put her down and cut across the backyard to the farmhouse. He needed breakfast and coffee before facing Tori.

      Lots of coffee.

      He took the back deck steps two at a time and paused outside the back door to remove his barn boots.

      Even though Mom had been gone for five years, her rules remained. And that meant no barn boots in the house.

      Scents of fresh-brewed coffee mingling with fried bacon greeted him as he stepped into the kitchen.

      Still dressed in his blue paramedic’s uniform, Tucker, his younger brother by a year, stood at the stove, turning home fries in a cast-iron skillet. “Hey, man. Grab a plate. Your food’s ready.”

      Jake did as directed, handed the plate to his brother and then reached for the coffeepot to refill his travel mug. “Thanks, brother.”

      “Anytime.”

      Taking the food and the coffee to the large oak table, Jake sat and bowed his СКАЧАТЬ