“Do you believe this sky?”
Nadine pointed at the stars above her and Lamont.
“I hope it’s this clear tomorrow tonight,” he said.
She looked at him, and sent his heart into overdrive. “Why?”
“Might be inclined to throw a couple of steaks on the grill…if you’ll share ’em with me.”
Nadine turned to face him. “Lamont London,” she said, her blue eyes boring into his, “are you asking me out on a date?”
Suddenly, Lamont stared at the floorboards beneath his boots, trying to make sense of everything that was going on in his head and his heart.
“I like you, Nadine.”
She reached over and gently squeezed his forearm. “And I like you, too. You’ve always been a good neighbor, and I count myself lucky to call you ‘friend,’ too.”
Friend? The term made him feel like a schoolboy, because he wanted this to be so much more. He’d broken bones and tamed wild stallions. But something told him trying to woo Nadine might be his greatest challenge yet….
LOREE LOUGH
A full-time writer for many years, Loree Lough has produced more than two thousand articles, dozens of short stories and novels for the young (and young at heart), and all have been published here and abroad. She is also an award-winning author of more than thirty-five romances.
A comedic teacher and conference speaker, Loree loves sharing in classroom settings what she’s learned the hard way. The mother of two grown daughters, she lives in Maryland with her husband.
An Accidental Family
Loree Lough
And then I will welcome you, and I will be a father
to you, and you will be My sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.
—2 Corinthians 6:18
Every time I watch the Oscars,
I empathize with the actors who try— in a very short time span—to thank everyone who made their careers and awards possible… without leaving anyone out! I pray you’ll bear with me as I make the same attempt to show my gratitude for the individuals who helped Accidental Family come to pass:
My faithful readers (many of whom became
cherished friends over the years), my amazing editor, Melissa (who knows a good story when she reads one), the creative guys and gals at Love Inspired (whose talents made this beautiful cover possible), my real-life hero-husband (whose support grows stronger and steadier by the year), my loving daughters (for believing in me even when I didn’t), and their kids (who provide thousands of “braggy grandmom” moments), and Katharine Grubb (“The 10-Minute Writer,” who shared a few words that sparked an idea and solved a problem for the heroine). Last, but certainly not least, to our heavenly Father, who blessed me with a career that allows me to enjoy every working moment and allows me to share His word!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
Lamont had never felt more alone in his life.
Strange, since the church bulged with longtime friends, family and neighbors, here by invitation to witness his youngest daughter’s wedding.
They stood at the back of the church, just the two of them, waiting arm in arm for their cue to march toward the altar. Lily smiled up at him through the gauzy mist of her veil. “I love Max like crazy, Daddy,” she said, tears shimmering in her big green eyes, “but you’ll always be my best guy.”
He wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, that he was proud of the woman she’d become, that her mama would have been proud of her, too, but a sob caught in his throat. He patted her tiny, white-gloved hand and ground his molars together as those first strains of “The Wedding March” came through the closed chapel doors.
The roses and lilies of the valley in her bouquet began to quake, and he tried again to come up with something, anything that might calm and comfort her. But now the choking sob had made its way to his brain, making him feel just plain stupid as he continued patting her hand.
Then the doors opened, and a couple hundred parishioners turned simultaneously in their pews, smiling and craning their necks to get that first glimpse of the bride and her dad. Evidently, his hearing was pretty good for a guy in his fifties, because despite the window-rattling crescendo of the music, he could make out “Isn’t she pretty?” and “He’s so handsome in a tux,” rushing down the aisle like an ocean wave.
Next thing he knew, Lamont found himself at the altar, lifting her veil, kissing her forehead…and handing her over to the young man who’d take care of his Lily from this day forth.
“Who gives this woman?” the preacher asked.
They’d practiced this, just last night, but Lamont didn’t want to spout the two simple, one-syllable words they had assigned him. “She’s not a woman,” he wanted to shout instead, “She’s my baby girl!”
But after his mechanical “I do,” he walked woodenly to his seat, and sat tugging at the stiff collar of the tuxedo’s white shirt, trying to pay attention as Lily recited her vows and exchanged rings with Max, trying not to blubber like a toddler when the bride and groom shared their first kiss as man and wife.
When they faced the congregation, Lily looked at him and sent a silent reminder: “You’ll always be my best guy, Daddy…”
It put a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes,
