Their Second Chance Love. Kat Brookes
sweep a vehicle away. They were even more dangerous this time of year when floods weren’t prevalent. Folks tended to be far less cautious.
As soon as Hope had settled herself in the passenger seat, Logan closed the door and then jogged around to his side of the truck. “Jack still sleeping?”
“He woke up right after I talked to you. I debated leaving him, but he insisted I go home and get some rest. He also added that he was counting on me to run things while he was incapacitated.” That last part had her mouth turning downward.
He studied her from across the truck’s dark cab, the glow of the hospital entrance lights illuminating her pretty face. “That could be a while,” he said softly.
She nodded. “I know.”
“Does Jack?”
“You know Daddy,” she said. “He doesn’t let much keep him down for long. He’s already chomping at the bit to get back to the nursery.”
“Being away from there for any amount of time has got to be real hard on him,” Logan agreed. Working at the nursery day in and day out helped to keep the older man’s loneliness at bay. Jack had admitted as much to Logan one morning over coffee not long after one of Hope’s rare visits home. Logan understood. Putting his time and energy into his landscaping business left far less time to dwell on his own loneliness.
“It’ll drive him crazy,” Hope said, bringing Logan back to the present. “I’m hoping that not only will it motivate Daddy to think twice next time before taking himself off his prescribed medication, but that it will also push him to work hard in therapy so he can get back to doing what he loves. In the meantime, I’ll be staying in Braxton to see that he does just that and to see to the running of the nursery.”
Jack’s recovery could take weeks, months even, before he was physically back to the point he was at prior to his stroke. That meant there would be no avoiding seeing Hope again and again. Was he ready for that? Not that it mattered, he decided. It was what it was.
“Won’t they miss you at work?” he asked, hoping that maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t thought things out completely and would need to get back to San Diego sooner rather than later.
“I’ve got vacation time as well as personal time built up that I can use during my stay here. If I need more, I’ll just take time off without pay,” she told him. “Hopefully, I can remember everything Daddy taught me about running the nursery. It’s been a while.”
“Just like riding a bike,” Logan said as he pulled out onto the main street. “I can lend you a hand for the next couple of weeks,” he said without thinking. The last thing he wanted to do was spend time doing something that would bring back memories he’d just as soon forget. Memories of when he’d first started working at Hope’s Garden for Jack and the time he’d spent getting to know Hope as the two of them worked side by side. Laughing together. Sharing hopes and dreams. Their first kiss.
“You have your own business to see to,” she countered, her response giving him the out he needed.
He nodded. “I do. But I just had a landscaping job that was scheduled for next week get pushed back to early April,” Logan heard himself offering, despite his reservations. He was doing this for Jack. Putting his issues with Hope aside for his friend’s sake. “I can help cover for you while your daddy’s in the hospital. That’ll free you up to spend more time with him while he’s there. Once he comes home, we can take turns looking after him and the nursery.”
“I should refuse your offer,” she said, glancing his way.
“But you won’t,” he said knowingly.
“I can’t,” she answered honestly. “But I wanna pay you for your time.”
He shook his head, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “Not gonna happen. Jack’s my friend. I’m offering to lend a hand because of that.”
“You win,” Hope said with a sigh. “I have to focus on getting Daddy better right now. So whatever it takes, I’m willing to do it.”
He hadn’t won. If he had, the past nine years would have been a whole lot different. And winning wasn’t having a woman agree to keep you underfoot because she didn’t have any other choice.
He’d known when he’d made the offer that Hope would be a hard sell. Even Carter had tried to talk him out of spending any more time with her than he had to. But his momma raised him to be a good Christian. To help those in need. Just as his brother had helped Audra when she’d first arrived in Braxton.
Only in Logan’s case, there would be no happy ending. As soon as Jack recovered, Hope would return to the life she’d built for herself in San Diego. And he’d be left dealing with questions he knew going in that he’d never have the answers to.
“Logan...”
He glanced her way.
“I never really had the chance to tell you during the funeral services how very heartbroken I was over the loss of your momma and daddy. And Isabel, as well.”
That was because Hope had been in such an all-fire hurry to put distance between himself and her. There had been a quick hug followed by a teary-eyed “take care of yourself,” and then she was gone.
“You came,” he told her, his gaze returning to the road ahead. “That’s all that mattered. Momma would have been touched that you made the trip home for her service.”
“I loved her,” she said sadly, and he didn’t doubt her words in the least.
His momma had done her best to fill in for the friend she had lost far too soon, taking eleven-year-old Hope with her to teas and shopping and to get her hair done. All those things a mother and daughter would have done together. His momma had done those things, not only because of the love she’d had for the friend she’d lost, but because she’d just plain enjoyed spending time with Hope. She’d never had any daughters of her own to share those special moments with. Just three big, strapping boys who preferred camping, riding horses and long hikes in the woods.
“I loved both of your parents,” Hope added with a sniffle.
“I know you did.” It was him she couldn’t find it in her to love.
Silence fell between them the rest of the way to Hope’s Garden. The only sound came from the purr of the truck’s engine and the rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers as they pushed away the heavy rain.
When they turned onto the road that led to the nursery and Jack’s place just beyond, Hope sat up, her attention focused on the building ahead. “There are lights on in the office,” she said worriedly.
“I know,” he said, pulling up in front of the brightly lit building. Its warm glow filtered into the cab of the truck. “I was in such a hurry to get to the hospital this morning after the ambulance took Jack away that I forgot to shut them off. I did, however, remember to hang the Closed sign on the door and lock up before I left.” Cutting the engine, he undid his seat belt and reached into the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out Jack’s key ring. “You’ll be needing these.”
“He still has this?” she said, a bit misty-eyed as she ran her fingers over the pink daisy key ring, the colorful paint long since worn away along its edges. She lifted her gaze to meet his. “I gave him this for Christmas when I was in eighth grade.”
Logan eyed the key-laden piece. “Reckon it meant a lot to him for him to still be carrying it around.”
She laughed softly. “I probably should’ve bought him a cowboy boot key chain or something a little more manly. But I was big on flowers and anything and everything pink back then. I remember drawing pink flowers all over my school folders.”
“Back then?” he said with a snort as he reached for the handle on the driver’s door panel. “It went well beyond eighth grade. I seem to recall you doodling flowers all over my book covers when we were in high school.” His gaze