I don’t know who you are, other than your name. Tanner Hamilton?”
His expression clouded with confusion.
“Of course, I’m—” He paused. “Wait. Are you trying to say you really don’t know your own husband?” He removed his hat by the crown and threaded his fingers through his thick blond hair.
He needed a haircut, Rebecca thought, but then realized what an odd observation that was for her to make. It was somehow...personal.
This is my final story from Serendipity, and Texas’s First Annual Bachelors and Baskets Auction benefiting the senior center. Tanner and Rebecca have a much different relationship than my other heroes and heroines. They’re a married couple, separated by time, distance and heartbreak. But when Rebecca comes back to town with a case of amnesia, will they find their second chance?
This book was difficult for me to write. I always have humor in my books, but this one dealt with the heartbreaking subjects of infertility and stillbirth. I pray that any of my readers who’ve experienced infertility or stillbirth will find comfort in our Savior’s arms.
I’m always delighted to hear from you, dear readers, and I love to connect socially. To get regular updates, please sign up for my newsletter at www.debkastnerbooks.com. Come join me on Facebook at www.Facebook.com/debkastnerbooks, and you can catch me on Twitter @debkastner.
Please know that I pray for each and every one of you daily.
Dare to Dream,
Deb Kastner
If we believe not, yet he abideth faithful: he cannot deny himself.
—2 Timothy 2:13
To my husband, Joe.
I almost lost you to a double stroke.
I praise God every day that He’s given us a second chance.
You are my love and my best friend forever.
Contents
Note to Readers
Everybody knew.
Tanner Hamilton stood stiff-spined, arms crossed and his knees locked tight, front and center on the makeshift auction block located on the community green at Serendipity, Texas’s First Annual Bachelors and Baskets Auction, and scanned the entirely too enthusiastic audience. Sweat beaded his brow and made his black T-shirt stick to his skin.
It was ripping him up inside to be standing out here at the center of a public venue with everyone’s eyes upon him. If they weren’t judging him, then at the very least he spotted pity in some of their eyes. It was a small town. His friends and neighbors—everyone in his acquaintance and probably some who weren’t, had heard about poor Tanner Hamilton.
It wasn’t like he was the only man in the world whose wife had ever left him, but he
