Читать книгу Their Second Chance Love - Kat Brookes - Страница 10
ОглавлениеLogan Cooper grimaced as his gaze moved over the crisp white wedding invitation he held in his hands. One embossed with two shiny gold hearts with flowers woven around them. The matching fancy gold script announcing the specifics for his brother’s big day. A day filled with love and promises of happily-ever-after. But not all relationships had storybook endings. He knew that firsthand.
Nathan should know that, too.
A heavy sigh pushed past Logan’s lips.
How could his big brother have forgotten the depth of heartache that eventually came with loving someone? Either through something as painfully final as death, as was his brother’s case with his beloved wife, Isabel. Or by having the one who you love walk away, leaving your heart feeling as though it had just been trampled by a herd of stampeding cattle, as was the case with him and Hope.
Please, Lord, don’t let my brother be making a mistake by risking his heart again.
It wasn’t that Logan didn’t like Alyssa. She was everything good in a woman. Kind and caring. Compassionate and patient. All of which Nathan had needed desperately in his life. She’d brought him back from the brink of the emotional desolation he’d fallen into after Isabel’s death a little over two years before. Alyssa had even played a huge part in helping his brother find his way to the Lord again when no one else had been able to do so. But if something was to happen to her...
Logan shook the thought away. Nothing was going to happen to Alyssa. They wouldn’t let it. Setting the invitation and the fancy reply card that came with it onto the kitchen counter, he grabbed his truck keys, slapped his cowboy hat onto his head and headed outside. He had an order at Hope’s Garden to pick up.
Hope’s Garden. The local nursery, owned and run by Jack Dillan, had been named for Jack’s daughter, Hope, the girl Logan had once loved. He and Jack had been doing business together for years, despite the painful breakup that had gone on between Logan and Hope. Painful at least for him, because you had to love someone to be able to feel the pain that comes with losing them.
I don’t love you. Hope’s blurted-out declaration that day so long ago still rang in his ears. How had he been so wrong about her? About them? Shaking the ever-troubling past from his mind, he climbed into his truck and set off down the narrow dirt drive that fronted the three-bedroom log cabin his brothers had helped him build a few years before.
His gaze drifted upward as he peered out the front windshield, taking in the billowy dark clouds gathering in the morning sky above him. He prayed the rain would hold off until he’d picked up and delivered the trees he’d ordered for a job he was finishing up. Thankfully, the rain was expected to clear the area in a day or so, and temperatures were supposed to move up from the high fifties to the low seventies.
Thunder rumbled loudly in the distance as he turned off the main road and drove through the open gates of Hope’s Garden. “Hold off just a little longer,” Logan pleaded, casting a glance skyward. Loading and unloading trees in the cold and wet made for a miserable day.
A large greenhouse sat off to the left of the winding drive while rows of potted shrubs and trees lined the land to his right. Up ahead, the building that housed the checkout counter, and various fertilizers and assorted plant food options, looked an even brighter white against the darkening backdrop of that morning’s sky. To its right sat two more greenhouses, which held a large selection of potted annuals and perennials and thick, green ferns.
Parking near the entrance, Logan zipped up his jacket. raising its collar to protect himself against the bite of the spring wind gusting outside. Large drops of rain began to splatter across the windshield as he threw open the door, jumped down and made a sprint for the building’s entrance.
So much for beating the storm.
He hoped Jack had a fresh pot of coffee going. He could use a cup and he knew Jack would gladly offer.
Despite the unexpected and painful breakup he’d gone through with Hope nine years before, he and Jack had remained close. His friend had been every bit as stunned by the breakup as Logan had been. He’d fully expected them to marry after college and start working on a family of their own. When that hadn’t happened, Jack had given Logan a reason to get up every morning. He’d encouraged him to take what he’d learned while working for him at the nursery and start his own landscaping business.
Logan had taken the suggestion to heart, using his passion for trees and plants and flowers to build up a business that had taken root and had long since become one of the most sought-after landscaping service companies in the county. Logan would be the first to admit that he wouldn’t be where he was today without the unwavering trust and faith Jack had placed in his ability to start a business of his very own.
“Hello!” he called out as he pulled the glass entry door closed behind him.
Country music blared from the back office.
Grinning, Logan called out a little louder, “What’s a man gotta do to get some service around here?”
When Jack didn’t reply, he shook his head with a chuckle. His friend really did need to consider having his hearing checked. They’d made jokes about it in the recent months, but, in all seriousness, how did he expect to hear his customers when they came in with the radio blasting the way it was?
Logan rounded the counter and made his way down the short hallway to Jack’s office. One they had spent many a morning in before starting their workdays, talking over a cup of coffee and an occasional donut if Logan had time to run into town to pick some up for them on his way.
Reaching the office, he noticed the door had been left slightly ajar. The heady aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifted out into the hallway to join the music. Eager for a cup, Logan stepped into the room.
He’d no sooner opened his mouth to ask if his friend was trying to burst both of their eardrums with the radio cranked up so loud when his gaze dropped down from the vacant desk chair to the unmoving form on the floor beside the old oak desk.
“Jack!” Logan gasped, his gut twisting as he took in the sight of Hope’s father lying motionless on the cool, hardwood floor a few feet away. The radio lay on its side next to him along with an upturned aloe plant and the clay pot and soil it had once been nestled in.
Dear Lord, please don’t let Jack be gone.
* * *
The ringing of her cell phone had Hope Dillan stepping away from the filing cabinet where she’d been pulling several client files for the lunch meeting she had scheduled with the rest of Complete Solar Management’s marketing team that afternoon. Reaching into her desk, she dug inside her purse for her phone, wondering if there had been a change in place or time for their meeting.
A glance at the screen displayed a number she wasn’t familiar with. Bringing the phone to her ear, she said, “Hope Dillan speaking.”
“Hope, it’s Logan.”
She froze, anxiety immediately filling her. How had he gotten her cell phone number? Surely, her daddy wouldn’t have gone against her wishes and given it to him. Not after all these years. Years she’d spent doing everything she could to avoid crossing paths with Logan Cooper. Even changing her cell phone number, because Logan wasn’t a quitter and she wasn’t as strong as she’d like to be when it came to cutting all of her heartstrings where he was concerned.
Logan was the kind of man who, when he loved someone, did it with his whole heart. Even after she’d gone and broken it. If only things could have been different. If only God hadn’t decided to shatter her dreams. Their dreams.
“This really isn’t a good time,” she managed, her eyes tearing up as she spoke the words. She prayed she sounded less affected by his unexpected call than she felt at that moment. Because she was anything but unaffected. Her furiously pounding heart was proof enough of that.
The last time they’d spoken had been after the tornado struck Braxton, taking with it his parents, his sister-in-law and their neighbor, Mr. Timmons. She’d returned home for the funerals. How could she not? His family had been like her own.
“I had no choice,” he said. There was no missing the unsteadiness to his voice.
“Logan, we—”
“This isn’t about us,” he said, cutting her off. “I’m calling about Jack.”
“Daddy?” she said, her sense of panic shifting as his words settled in. “What about Daddy?” she demanded anxiously. She had just spoken with him the evening before and he had been his usual teasing self.
“He’s had some sort of spell.”
“What sort of spell?”
“I don’t know,” he said with a sigh. “I stopped by to pick up an order and found him on the floor in his office.”
A sob caught in her throat.
“I’ll know more once I get to the hospital,” he said.
The hospital?
“The ambulance just left,” he continued. “They’re taking him to County General as we speak. I’m headed there as soon as I close up the nursery.”
Hope shut her eyes, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. “Was he conscious?”
There was a brief hesitation on the other end of the line before Logan replied, “Not when I found him. But he was when they were loading him into the ambulance. He told me not to bother you at work, but I thought you would wanna know.”
“I appreciate your calling,” she said, shaking as she grabbed her purse from the open drawer. Then pushing away from her desk, she shot to her feet. “I’ll be there as soon as I can book a flight,” she said with forced calm, trying to hold it together when inside she was on the verge of falling apart. She couldn’t lose her daddy. He was all she had.
“Call when you get close to the hospital,” Logan said flatly. “I’ll make sure I’m gone before you get here.”
His stiffly spoken words broke her heart, knowing she had made him this way. Distant, almost hard. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Before she could respond, before she could tell him there was no need to leave on her account, he was gone. The line every bit as empty as she felt inside.
* * *
Logan sat next to Jack’s hospital bed, feeling helpless. A feeling that didn’t sit well with him. There had to be something more he could do for his friend. Jack had given him his first job. Had taught him everything he knew about flowers and plants and trees. And after encouraging him to take his passion for those things and start his own landscaping business, Jack had gone so far as to loan Logan the money to start that business up. He had long since paid Jack back the money he’d lent him. His business, Cooper Landscaping, had taken firm root. He had no doubt that his company’s success was due in large part to Jack Dillan’s support and guidance over the years, as well as his brothers’ bringing him in on several of their company’s construction projects. If the businesses or home owners contracting work through Cooper Construction were in need of landscaping to go with their newly built homes or businesses, Logan’s company was at the top of the recommended landscaper list his brothers provided to their clients. Being the only local landscaping company in the immediate area had no doubt helped, as well.
The steady hiss of oxygen being fed through the tube in Jack’s nose had Logan’s brow creasing in concern. He hated seeing his friend this way. Jack Dillan, at fifty-nine years of age, was still in his prime. He wasn’t the kind of man to sit around having others do things for him. He was a doer, grumbling anytime someone fussed over him. Except when Verna Simms stopped by to bring him some of her homemade chicken soup because she’d heard that he was suffering from a bout of the sniffles. He didn’t seem to mind the pretty widow and owner of Big Dogs, the local diner, coddling him. Not that Jack would ever admit to having a liking for the attention she paid to him. He was too set in his ways. But Logan knew better. Maybe he ought to give Verna a call. She’d have him back to his old self in no time. The thought of it brought a semblance of a smile to Logan’s tightly pressed lips.
Closing his eyes, he prayed for the Lord to give Jack the strength to pull through this health crisis. It had been hard enough having to call Hope with the news that her daddy was in the hospital. Now he was going to have to stick around, despite preferring to be gone when Hope arrived. Jack had asked him to call and tell Hope he was under the weather in case she tried to reach him, sugarcoating the truth and leaving out the details, which Logan refused to do. Hope needed to know the whole of it. Dragging a hand back through his own dark, wavy hair, he took in Jack’s pale face as he lay asleep in the hospital bed. “You’d best get to mending, old man. A lot of folks are gonna be counting on you for their garden flowers with spring being just around the corner.” He was gonna be counting on Jack to be there.
His gaze flicked to the clock on the wall, watching as the second hand made its painfully slow trip around the circle of numbers. Over and over. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Unable to sit there listening to the hiss of the oxygen and the beeping of the monitors any longer, Logan pushed out of the hospital chair and straightened his six-foot-four-inch frame. Casting one more glance down at his friend, he turned and made his way out of ICU. He figured he’d return a few work calls that had come in that morning. Anything to fill the time and keep his concern at bay.
The automatic doors eased closed behind him as Logan stepped out into the hallway. Digging into the front pocket of his jeans, he grabbed for his cell phone and had just settled back against the brightly lit corridor’s wall outside when a very feminine, all-too-familiar voice called out to him.
“Logan?”
His hand, still curled around his phone, dropped down to his side, his gaze shifting in the direction of the approaching hospital visitor. Hope. He stood frozen for a long moment, drinking in the sight of the woman he had once loved as she made her way toward him, wheeling a small floral suitcase behind her.
“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.
