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The Truth About Hope
Kate James


Who is Hope Wilson? Is she the girl her former hometown thinks she is? Or the girl Luke Carter once loved–and maybe still does?When Hope returns to Canyon Creek, Texas, to honor her father's last wishes, there's only one person on her mind: her high school sweetheart, Luke. The boy she lied to when she had to leave Canyon Creek as a teen, finding it easier to hide what she really felt than deal with the grief of loss. Her father's fortune could make a big difference to Canyon Creek–but Hope finds that the townspeople have a long memory when it comes to his misdeeds. With a plan to make amends on his behalf, Hope learns the truth about herself. And the truth about love.







Who is Hope Wilson?

Is she the girl her former hometown thinks she is? Or the girl Luke Carter once loved—and maybe still does?

When Hope returns to Canyon Creek, Texas, to honor her father’s last wishes, there’s only one person on her mind: her high school sweetheart, Luke. The boy she lied to when she had to leave Canyon Creek as a teen, finding it easier to hide what she really felt than deal with the grief of loss. Her father’s fortune could make a big difference to Canyon Creek—but Hope finds that the townspeople have a long memory when it comes to his misdeeds. With a plan to make amends on his behalf, Hope learns the truth about herself. And the truth about love.


“Hope? It’s really you? Ah...hi. What are you doing here?”

Luke reached out. With the utmost care, he clasped Hope’s elbow to help her up.

Hope mumbled a thank-you, and became absorbed in brushing off her legs and her clothes. Drops of blood welled on her knees. When Luke pulled a blue-checked bandanna out of his back pocket and held it out to her, Hope’s eyes shifted from the bandanna to Luke’s hand...free of a wedding ring. Appalled by her own thoughts, she frowned.

“It’s clean,” he assured her. “Go ahead. Use it.”

Her look had nothing to do with the bandanna and everything to do with bumping—literally—into the one person she was least prepared to see.

She didn’t move, so Luke bent down and, placing one hand behind her knee, gently dabbed at the abrasions.

That simple, impersonal touch made her feel as if a two-hundred-and-twenty-volt electric current surged through her body.


Dear Reader (#ulink_3fe812b5-c816-57d2-b6fd-7ef75af95f3d),

My heroine, Hope, and I have a number of things in common, most notably our love of animals. Veterinarians have worked miracles for our furry, four-legged family members. They restored our Malamute’s sight after a congenital disease rendered him nearly blind when he was barely a year old, saved our yellow Lab following a horrific adverse reaction to a vaccination, and years later cured his cancer.

When my husband and I had to say goodbye to our last three dogs, we were heartbroken. Then by happenstance we met Harley and Logan—both black Labs. They were eighteen and fourteen months old respectively at the time, didn’t know each other and had only lived in kennels up to that point in their lives. Whether we thought ourselves ready for more dogs or not, they stole our hearts, adopted us and have enriched our lives in so many ways.

I offer sincere thanks to Hope’s real-life counterparts—people who care for, rehabilitate and locate forever homes for the animals that find their way into shelters.

Thank you for choosing to read Hope’s story. Whether by email, a letter, a comment through my website or a Tweet—I would love to hear from you.

Happy reading!

Kate

Email: readers@kate-james.com

Website: kate-james.com (http://www.kate-james.com)

Mail: PO Box 446, Schomberg, Ontario, L0G 1T0, Canada







The Truth About Hope

Kate James






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


KATE JAMES spent much of her childhood abroad before attending university in Canada. She built a successful business career, but her passion has always been literature. As a result, Kate turned her energy to her love of the written word. Kate’s goal is to entertain her readers with engaging stories featuring strong, likable characters. Kate has been honored with numerous awards for her writing. She and her husband, Ken, enjoy traveling and the outdoors with their beloved Labrador retrievers. Watch for her upcoming trilogy featuring a K-9 unit.


To my parents.









Acknowledgments (#ulink_4cf14560-8925-506d-b494-1ce6eafe2228)

I am privileged to have Paula Eykelhof as my editor. Her brilliance, industry expertise and generosity of spirit never cease to amaze me. I can’t thank her enough for both teaching me and challenging me as I strive to perfect my craft.

I am also grateful to senior editor Victoria Curran and the entire team at Mills & Boon. They are a dream to work with!


Contents

Cover (#u3abeb357-16f5-5476-a9a5-e666bcaa74d3)

Back Cover Text (#uccfc1376-7625-5b93-9e91-412c8d9d46c3)

Introduction (#ua3915ecd-245f-5856-8c86-4b4898a69d95)

Dear Reader (#ulink_76c07f94-b8ab-51fd-bdb8-fd75eb1d5b7b)

Title Page (#u28b1a09c-3024-548a-8020-298491141568)

About the Author (#ufdcfdb31-a621-598f-868d-a2963c3fcb6d)

Dedication (#uf424972e-fa97-596f-8822-f0e27730bd1f)

Acknowledgments (#ulink_93c8f169-e488-529f-b3c2-7bdbfc175bc7)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_c317988e-f2fc-5401-b7a4-433d9aa33966)

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_1685fc98-a477-5bdb-88f9-e754ddf5db6e)

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_75f32488-6350-5360-a5ec-718361935de1)

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_3db52456-8bfe-51de-8ac1-0fc39bad3258)

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_4be3fcb7-eb6e-5002-9ee3-7927adc681d4)

CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_7026847a-56ff-577f-8eca-03cd88ecfcf4)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_3fbfe2c5-33a7-5a18-85f2-cbceae0e96ee)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_f230fffe-d6e7-5bc1-9c65-3323d510a968)

Canyon Creek, Texas August 2001

“I AM NOT moving to San Jose!” Hope Wilson surged out of her chair and sent it toppling.

Arthur Burrows raised a hand. “Calm down, please. I know this isn’t easy for you.”

Hope leaned forward, bracing her hands on the lawyer’s desk. “Isn’t easy for me?” Her eyes stung and she felt the familiar tightening in her chest, but she refused to let the tears come. The anger somehow made her feel alive again. “My mother’s funeral was yesterday, now you tell me this, and you say it’s not easy?”

“I know this is all very difficult. No one could’ve foreseen your mother passing away so suddenly. Why don’t you sit down?” he encouraged her. “Let’s finish going over your mother’s will.”

Instead, Hope spun around and moved to the window. Outside, the brilliant sunshine filtered through the high canopy of ash and oak trees. Wicker baskets hung from decorative lampposts, their profusion of flowers spilling over in bold sweeps of color. People strolled along the wide, cobblestoned sidewalks of Center Street, as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

How could everything look so normal when her life was over?

“Hope, please sit down,” Arthur repeated.

She was on the verge of another tirade but stopped herself. She couldn’t blame Mr. Burrows. He hadn’t caused her problems. He was her mother’s lawyer, and if anybody could help her find a way out of this predicament, it would be him. It certainly wouldn’t serve her purposes to antagonize him.

She turned from the window and strode to the chair, righted it and flopped down. Continuing to fight a battle with her temper, she could almost hear her mother’s admonition about being polite and respectful. It made her want to cry again. “Sorry about the way I behaved just now,” she said in a subdued voice. “But I’m not moving to San Jose.”

“Now, Hope.” Arthur sat back. “I’m afraid you don’t have much choice.”

“But my mother wanted Aunt Clarissa to take care of me. You said it’s in her will.”

“That’s true,” Arthur agreed patiently. “However, your father’s rights override your mother’s wishes in this case.”

Hope’s fury began to simmer once more, but it was overshadowed by a debilitating sense of anguish and fear, of being alone. “You can’t make me leave Canyon Creek. I’m not a child anymore,” she cried, but suddenly felt very much like one. Even to her own ears she sounded like one. She blinked furiously to stave off the tears.

“Look, Hope. I understand how upsetting this is for you, but you really don’t have a say in the matter. According to Texas law, at seventeen you’re still a minor. When I notified your father that Rebecca had passed away, his lawyer contacted me immediately. He was unequivocal about the fact that your father wants you to live with him.” Arthur’s voice turned conciliatory. “He’s your father. He’s family. Where better for you to be, with your mother gone?”

“He is not my family!” Hope raised her eyes to the ceiling and took three deep breaths. “He stopped being my father when he walked out on Mom and me, when I was two. I don’t even remember him. Don’t make me go,” she pleaded. “Mom had some money saved, and I have our house. I can work part-time while I finish school.”

“Hope, you don’t have to do that. Your father is a very wealthy man. Financially, he’s prepared to give you a lot more than the allowance your mother was receiving from him. He’s willing to take you in, pay for your education. You can’t imagine how hard that would be for you on your own, even if it was a possibility.”

“What about what he did when he left? Closing down his business and hurting all the people who depended on those jobs? He and my mother grew up with the people who worked for him. What kind of man does that to his friends? How guilty do you think that’s always made me feel? And you want me to go live with a man like that?”

“It’s not a matter of me wanting you to live with him. It’s what he wants.”

Hope swiped a hand under her nose. “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here. Aunt Clarissa said she’d move to Canyon Creek to be with me. You’re a lawyer. Can’t you figure something out?” she beseeched. “Other kids my age are allowed to live on their own.”

“It’s called emancipation and it’s rare. There has to be a reason for a court to grant that. I’m afraid there’s no compelling argument in your case. Take some time, Hope. Get used to the idea. I’m sure it’ll turn out just fine.”

* * *

LUKE CARTER PUSHED away from the bicycle rack he’d been leaning against as soon as Hope came out of the building. With his long strides, he was next to her almost instantly. “How did it go?”

“Okay,” she mumbled, walking past him.

“Hey. Hey!” He hurried after her and reached for her hand. “You don’t look like it went okay.”

She yanked free and stuffed both hands in her pockets to keep Luke from grabbing one again. Her head bent, she moved forward at a brisk pace.

“Hey!” He passed her and stopped directly in her path, grasping her shoulders. She kept her head lowered, her long mahogany hair hiding her face. Luke shook her gently and bent down to study her face. “It’s me. You can’t lie to me.”

When Hope remained silent, he gave her another light shake. “It’s me,” he said again. “You can tell me anything.”

On top of the pain and fear, Hope was now livid with herself. What was she doing, shutting him out? This was Luke. Her best friend since they were in grade school. Her boyfriend since last year. Luke had been there for her all her life. She knew firsthand how hard it was when people you cared about left you—as her father had and now in a different way her mother, too. How could she tell Luke that she was leaving Canyon Creek? That she was leaving him.

Hope let out a ragged breath. Through lowered lashes, she studied Luke’s perfect face, the thick mop of chestnut-brown hair and those expressive gold-flecked amber eyes that made her think of a lion. How was she going to do it? How was she going to break the news to Luke, explain to all their friends that she was going to live with the man who’d caused so much harm to their town and to many of their families?

She pulled one hand out of her pocket and placed it gently in the crook of Luke’s arm. “I just need a little time.” She saw the flicker of frustration on his face before compassion eclipsed it. He took a step back and to the side. “Yeah, okay. But remember I’m here. Whatever you need. We’ve always been there for each other.”

“I know.” She rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I appreciate it.”

Hope walked home alone to the little brick bungalow she and her mother had shared since they’d been on their own and let herself in.

Once inside, she stood very still. Everything was the same, but everything had changed.

She knew Aunt Clarissa was there because her Camry was parked in the driveway.

Aunt Clarissa, who lived in San Antonio about two-and-a-half hours southwest, had hurried to Canyon Creek to be with Hope when Hope’s mother had collapsed from a burst brain aneurysm a week ago, killing her without any symptoms or warning. Fortunately, as a survey associate for a market research company, Clarissa was able to work anywhere there was a telephone and an internet connection. They’d talked about Clarissa’s moving to Canyon Creek and becoming Hope’s legal guardian, as her mother’s will specified. With the lawyer’s bombshell, that was no longer an option.

Maybe if Clarissa was truly her aunt it would’ve been possible. But just like Hope, her mother had been an only child. Rebecca and Clarissa had become best friends as teenagers, and Clarissa was the closest thing to family that Hope had. She’d called her aunt since she was a toddler and loved her as much as she could’ve loved any family member.

Clarissa had wanted to accompany her to the meeting with the lawyer, but Hope knew Clarissa was in the middle of a project with a tight deadline. When a problem had arisen that morning, Hope had insisted she’d be fine on her own. Besides, Luke had offered to walk over to the lawyer’s office with her, to keep her company and then wait for her outside. In the end, Clarissa had agreed to stay home. Now Hope had to tell her what the lawyer had said. Unlike the way she had with Luke, she wouldn’t be able to forestall the inevitable with Clarissa.

Hope found Clarissa in the kitchen, bent over her laptop, fingers flying across the keys. Red-framed reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, and her hair looked as if she’d dragged her fingers through it more than once. Her foot tapped the tile floor to some silent beat. Clarissa always seemed to have limitless energy, yet just seeing her calmed Hope and eased her feeling of despair.

Clarissa had been there for her, as had Luke, in the long, dark days since her mother died. Now Hope would have to say goodbye to her, too. Canyon Creek and Clarissa’s home in San Antonio were a world away from where she’d be living in California. Hope’s throat clogged with unshed tears, and she tried to clear it with a little cough.

Clarissa’s fingers stilled. Noticing Hope, she jumped up and rushed over, pulling her into a comforting hug. “You’re back. How’d it go?”

“Not good” was Hope’s muffled response.

With a final squeeze, Clarissa stepped away and searched Hope’s face. The concern in her eyes was enough to make Hope lose control, and her body began to shake.

Clarissa slid an arm around Hope’s waist and guided her to the kitchen table. “Here. Sit. I’ll get you a cup of tea.” She passed Hope a box of tissues, fixed two cups of tea and sat next to her. “I knew I should’ve gone with you. I just knew it. Tell me what happened.”

Hope reached for a tissue and blew her nose. “The lawyer—Mr. Burrows—he says I have to live with my father. Move to San Jose,” Hope said in a strangled voice.

“Your father?” Clarissa appeared shocked. “How is that possible?”

Hope’s face crumpled, and another deluge of tears threatened. She managed to explain what the lawyer had told her. “He...he said I...I don’t have a choice.” Her voice sounded that of a much younger child rather than the adult she had so vehemently asserted she was to Arthur Burrows. “What am I going to do?”

Although they’d spoken about the possible scenarios, Clarissa had insisted she’d move to Canyon Creek so Hope wouldn’t have to leave her school and her friends. Now it seemed she’d be uprooted anyway, forced to live in a place she’d never seen, with a father who was a complete stranger to her. “This is so unfair,” she wailed. “Mom was only forty-three. Why did she have to die?”

Hope’s hands were busy shredding a damp tissue, and Clarissa enfolded them in her own. “There are no easy answers to your questions, honey. I’m not sure anyone knows what causes a brain aneurysm, and there’s no telling when or if it will rupture. It was sudden, which means your mom didn’t suffer. There should be some comfort in that.”

Hope pulled her hands back and dropped her head into them as she continued to weep.

Clarissa wrapped her arms around Hope and rocked her gently. “Oh, Hope. I’m so sorry.” When Hope’s tears slowed and her breathing leveled, Clarissa eased back. She got another tissue and mopped the moisture streaming from Hope’s eyes. “I should’ve gone with you.”

“No. No, it’s okay. It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Well, this isn’t right.” Clarissa rose. Riffling through the letters and notes in a basket on the kitchen counter, she located the lawyer’s business card.

Hope felt a glimmer of optimism. She held her breath as Clarissa had a mostly one-sided conversation with Arthur Burrows, concluding the call with “I see. Yes, tomorrow’s fine” and a curt “Thank you.”

“What did Mr. Burrows say?” Hope asked as Clarissa sat back down.

She smoothed a few tendrils of Hope’s hair from her forehead. “I’m going to see him tomorrow. We’ll see what can be done.”

* * *

HOPE WAS SITTING on the front steps of the house, a book on her lap, when Clarissa returned from her meeting with the lawyer. Clarissa lowered herself to the step and slid an arm around Hope’s shoulders, drawing her close.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Clarissa began. “I think Mr. Burrows is right. If your father wants you to live with him, there’s not much we can do.”

“But you said I could stay with you!”

“I did. But I never expected that we’d hear from your father—or that he’d insist on having you live with him.”

“Can’t we stop him? Can’t we get him to change his mind?”

Clarissa ran a hand down the length of Hope’s hair.

“I don’t think so. Your father has the law on his side. Jock’s lawyer made it clear to Mr. Burrows that he’s adamant. Mr. Burrows didn’t get the feeling that it was negotiable.”

“Can’t we take some sort of legal action?”

“Your father has money, lots of it. Even if we wanted to fight him in court, we’d run out of money long before Jock felt the slightest ripple in his net worth. I’m sorry, but I can’t see any way around it. It’ll be okay, honey,” Clarissa tried to reassure Hope.

“How can it be? I don’t know my father. I’ve never been to California. You and Luke and all my friends are here. It’s going to be awful.”

“I’m sure it’s not going to be that bad. We’ll only be a phone call, Skype or email away. I’m certain your father will let you visit, too.”

“That...that’s not...the same.” Hope could barely get the words out, she was sobbing so hard.

“Come here... Shh.” Clarissa held Hope tighter. “You’re going to be eighteen in less than a year. At eighteen, you’ll legally be an adult. If things don’t work out for you with your father, you can live with me then. But give it a chance first, okay?”

“It’s almost a whole year. My friends will forget about me. And Luke...Luke will have a new girlfriend.”

Hope thought about her father leaving her. Now her mother was gone, and it seemed that Aunt Clarissa was abandoning her, too, despite her promise. If she moved, Hope faced losing everyone close to her. She’d be all alone.


CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_324b3ed6-10a0-56e7-85ff-5d8fb0019acb)

SLEEP ELUDED HOPE that night. When she wasn’t crying, she was either staring up at the ceiling or out the window at the black velvet sky with its myriad of diamond-bright stars. By morning, her eyes were so puffy she could hardly open them, and it felt as if there was a jackhammer pounding in her head.

Despite the sleepless night, she hadn’t come up with a way to resolve her dilemma. Based on what the lawyer and Aunt Clarissa had told her, she had a week. In that time she’d have to pack whatever she was taking to California, leave everyone who mattered to her and prepare for her life to end.

Hope groaned when she saw her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She splashed cold water on her face, cleaned her teeth and ran a brush through her hair. She didn’t look much better, but it would have to do.

The long, sleepless night had driven one thing home: there was no alternative. This was her reality.

Aunt Clarissa had breakfast ready by the time Hope shuffled into the kitchen, although it was still shy of six. They ate in silence, neither of them knowing what to say.

While she played with the food on her plate, Hope tried to find the words to tell everyone, but didn’t come up with anything workable. Worst of all, she had no idea how she was going to say goodbye to Luke. She had to see him first. She knew how quickly news spread in their small community, and she didn’t want to risk having Luke hear it from someone other than her. Malcolm Rutledge, Luke’s best friend and as close to her as a brother, would be next.

Then she’d figure out the rest.

After helping Clarissa with the dishes, she pulled her backpack out from the bottom of her closet. She stuffed in a bottle of water, a notepad and pen, her mobile phone and the book she was currently reading. She put on a pair of sunglasses and set out.

But she wasn’t ready to face Luke. She followed the road until it intersected with McCullock Street. With no definite plan, she turned left and continued walking until the street started to rise. There she took a right onto Yardley Drive and walked all the way to the end. The road dead-ended on a promontory, which had been made into a park and observation area. It was the highest point in Canyon Creek, and it provided a panoramic view of the whole town, Gulch River snaking around its perimeter and, in the distance, the silvered surface of Stillhouse Hollow Lake.

It was early and the park was tranquil. It would be at least an hour before the chatter of preschoolers and the exuberance of dogs would shatter the quiet. For now, it was just her and a handful of joggers taking advantage of the relatively cool temperatures.

Hope flung her backpack on a wooden bench and sat beside it. The early-morning sun gilded homes, land, river and lake, giving it all an ethereal luminosity. She’d heard that Northern California was beautiful, but how could it compare to her hometown? She’d never been outside Texas. She’d never wanted to be.

A bubble of panic formed in her belly, and she pressed a hand over it. No, she wouldn’t let herself fall apart again. It was too important to handle her discussions today with a level head. She kept her eyes on the vista before her. The town that was her home, the town that in one short week she might never see again.

She blinked back the tears.

No! That couldn’t be. Of course she’d see the town again. She’d be back to visit her friends and, as Clarissa had pointed out, in less than a year she’d be an adult and could do as she pleased. She could come home if she wanted, and she did. Everything she knew and cared about was here. She’d just have to get through the next year and—

“Well, you’re up early.”

Twisting on the bench, Hope saw Suzie Walbridge behind her. Suzie, obviously in the middle of a run, was bent at the waist, hands on her knees, head lowered. She wore cropped, black spandex pants and a hot-pink tank top. The color of her Nikes matched her top. Her long blond hair was tied in a ponytail that hung over her head, its ends skimming the blades of grass.

Hope and Suzie were classmates, but Suzie didn’t like her. Hope suspected it might have had something to do with Luke. Suzie had never had a kind word to say to her in all the years they’d known each other. The last thing Hope wanted right now was a confrontation. She needed all her wits and energy for what lay ahead.

“Look, Suzie. It’s a big park. Can’t you find somewhere else to take a rest?”

Suzie lifted her head and flipped back her ponytail. Her vivid blue eyes drilled into Hope’s. “I could...but I don’t want to.” She straightened and tugged her water bottle out of its holster on her belt and took a long drink. “This is where I always take my break. I don’t plan to change my routine for you.”

Hope shrugged and tried to ignore her.

The sun had crept up in the sky. The gold sheen it had cast over land and buildings had faded. Focusing on the silver-blue surface of the lake in the distance, Hope willed herself to stay calm. She was doing a pretty good job until Suzie stepped into her line of vision.

“Go away, Suzie, and leave me alone.”

Suzie placed her hands on her trim hips and bent backward from her waist, moving her torso in small circles. “You want to be alone, huh? Shouldn’t be too hard. Who’d want to hang around with you anyway?”

Hope had just about had enough. She tried for calm one last time. “Can we not do this today?”

“Why not?” Suzie narrowed her eyes. “Hmm...you know, you don’t look so good this morning. Did yummy Luke see you like this and tell you to get yourself together or he’d break up with you?”

Hope shot to her feet, clenching her fists at her sides. All the years of conflict with Suzie converged in that single moment, bound up with Hope’s anguish at losing her mother and her fear of losing everything she knew. “This has nothing to do with Luke!” She bent over to lift up her pack, but Suzie pulled it out of her reach.

“I bet it does,” Suzie taunted.

Hope felt the pressure build in her chest at the thought of leaving him. It was for only a year, she tried to convince herself, but her thin thread of control finally snapped. “Leave me alone,” she repeated. “In a week, I’ll have left Canyon Creek.”

She unclenched her fists and went very still. Had she really said that? Had she blurted out to Suzie, of all people, that she was leaving?

“Where are you going?” Suzie asked. “Like a vacation?”

Hope’s body remained rigid but her mind worked furiously. What should she say? How should she handle this so Suzie wouldn’t see her as a helpless victim? She couldn’t bear to let her think that. “It’s not a vacation. I’m moving,” she said. “I...” She was still searching desperately for a way out. It was bad enough that everyone already felt sorry for her because of her father and now her mother. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, let Suzie know the depth of her misery. “I’m going to live with my father.”

“Your father?”

Hope nodded. “Yes. My father. In San Jose.”

“You’re going? Just like that?”

Hope had to save face. She couldn’t bear the idea of explaining to Suzie that she didn’t have a choice. “This is my big chance,” she improvised. “You can’t imagine how rich my father is. He could buy this whole town, if he wanted to!” Suzie’s obvious glee was replaced by...what? Envy? It didn’t matter. Hope was on a roll. “Me? I’m tired of just hanging around here.” She made a sweeping motion with her arm toward the town spread out below the precipice. “I’m going to be rich, like my father. Do you realize how great San Jose is?” She’d checked it out on the internet; she’d been able to see her father’s place on Google Earth. “My father has a huge house,” she boasted.

Suzie stared at her, speechless.

Hope pushed her sunglasses higher on her nose and fixed what she considered a gloating smile on her face.

Suzie opened her mouth, then closed it again. Finally, she mumbled, “Good for you” and jogged away.

Well, she’d done it. This wasn’t the way Hope had wanted to communicate things, but at least no one would feel sorry for her—and there wasn’t much she could do about it now. Not only was Suzie unkind, she was an incorrigible gossip. Their conversation would be town fodder in no time.

Then the realization struck her. She hadn’t told Luke yet! “Oh, my gosh,” she exclaimed. She had to speak with Luke.

Hope grabbed her pack and raced across the field, down Yardley Drive and toward Luke’s house. While she ran, she tried to figure out what to say. She didn’t like being helpless. She didn’t like not being in control. She didn’t want him feeling sorry for her.

She came to a sudden stop and tried to catch her breath.

What if he wanted to go with her? They’d talked about where they’d go to college. Luke had insisted that he’d go wherever she did.

Would he do that? Go to San Jose with her? Her mood brightened. He was the one person who wouldn’t desert her. Then she wouldn’t be all alone.

But that was selfish. His family was struggling to make ends meet since his father had left them. That was a common bond they shared—the fact that they each had only a mother. But he had a younger brother, Travis. Luke worked after school, on weekends and all through the summer to help out. Travis wasn’t old enough to have a job; he did his share by looking after the chickens and goats they raised. How would his family get by if Luke left? Besides, how could he afford to live in San Jose and finish school? No, it was out of the question.

Hope loved Mrs. Carter almost as much as her own mother. Yes, Luke would be going to college in another year, but Hope couldn’t be responsible for his leaving before that, making life even harder for his mom and younger brother.

The more Hope thought about it, the more she realized how easy it had been to let Suzie think it was her own decision. That she wasn’t a victim, and she needn’t be pitied.

That would be her story. Now that she’d told Suzie, everyone would know what she’d said anyway. Why not just let them believe it?

Suzie had probably told lots of people by now. No longer having to race against the clock, Hope walked resolutely to Luke’s house.

She found him outside, working in the chicken coop. He was hunched over, his back to her, collecting eggs. He was so tall, so strong, things that had attracted her when they’d already been best friends. “Hey,” she called out.

Luke jerked upright, banging his head on the two-by-four beam at the top of the opening. He grunted loudly. Rubbing his head, he backed out of the coop and straightened. His look of mild irritation turned to pleasure when he saw her. “Hey to you, too, Sprite,” he responded, using his nickname for her. He hurried over and brushed his lips lightly across hers. “Here, I’ll take that.” He reached for her backpack.

She moved the strap farther up her shoulder. “No. It’s okay.”

His eyes narrowed briefly, and then the smile was back on his face. He gently set the bucket of eggs down on the grass and slung an arm around her shoulders. Since his arm nestled her tightly against his side, it would’ve been awkward to resist, so she let him lead her. And it felt so good. She wished she could turn into his arms and he’d tell her everything would be okay. She resisted the temptation. It wasn’t going to happen. Nothing was going to be okay ever again, she thought as they walked along.

Hope could guess where they were going. To the swimming pond on the Hawkins ranch abutting the Carter property. All the kids were welcome to use it. The large rock at the edge of the pond was one of their favorite spots. That was where they’d first kissed. Where they’d first said they loved each other. It was a special, magical place for her, and she knew it was for Luke, too.

She stopped abruptly. If that was where she told him, the magic would be gone. It didn’t matter to her, or so she tried to convince herself. But was it fair to ruin it for Luke? On the other hand, maybe that was fitting. Maybe it had to happen there. Where it all started would be where it ended, too. Where she’d shatter their dreams.

They walked in silence, the only sounds the crunching of the dry grass beneath their feet, the whinny of a horse in the distance and the mournful cry of a dove gliding overhead.

When they reached the rock by the cattail-edged blue-brown water, Luke dropped his arm. As Hope slipped off her backpack and climbed up, Luke took a small bag of crumbled bread from his pocket, which he habitually kept there for the chickens, and held it out to her. She grabbed a handful and began tossing it into the pond. They watched the koi leap and dance as they fed.

Luke nudged Hope with his shoulder. “So, are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?”

It was now or never. “I’ve been thinking... With Mom gone...it changes things.”

“Oh, Hope...”

He reached for her, but she pulled away. There was no easy way to do it. She just had to get it out. “I’m leaving Canyon Creek.”

“What?” The word exploded from Luke’s mouth. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”

She inched farther away from him. She couldn’t go through with it if she could feel him next to her, touching her. His nearness made her resolve waver. Her heart was racing, and there was a terrible constriction in her chest that made breathing almost impossible, but she tried to keep her voice unaffected. “I’m going to live with my father in California.”

Luke jumped off the rock. Bracing his arms on either side of her legs, he caged her in. “Your father? The man you can’t remember? The man who practically destroyed this town?”

“He’s still my father.”

Luke shook his head, but kept his eyes, intense and angry, on hers. “What kind of sick joke is this?”

Hope broke eye contact, focusing on a spot over his left shoulder. She couldn’t continue, if she had to keep looking into his furious gaze. “It’s not a joke.”

“You’re not making sense. Why would you do that?”

“Because he asked.”

Luke turned, picked up a large stone and heaved it into the water, where it landed with a splash. He watched the ripples spread before turning back. His voice was more controlled when he spoke again. “Hope, what’s this all about? You don’t want to live with your father.”

He knew her too well. She nearly shrieked that, no, she didn’t want to. She almost begged him to make it all go away. Instead, she nodded slowly. “Yes. It is what I want.”

“It makes no sense. Why?”

She slid off the rock and threw up her arms. “I’m tired of living in a place that’s so small everyone knows your business. I’m tired of not being able to buy a new pair of sneakers or go on a school trip because I can’t afford it.” More calmly now, and with full honesty, she added, “And I can’t impose on Aunt Clarissa. I can’t expect her to move here and give up her life to take care of me.”

“She’d do it. She loves you. Or you can live with us. Mom won’t mind. Travis would love it.”

“No, Luke. I’m leaving,” she said emphatically. And with finality.


CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_e5415133-e07c-5018-821a-04cc401bfcdd)

IT WAS HOPE’S first time on a plane. With every passing minute, she was inexorably transported toward an uncertain and terrifying future. The distance between her and everything she knew and loved increased. Far below, the ranches formed a patchwork quilt of greens and browns. The occasional ribbon of blue water haphazardly transected the rectangles of varying textures and sizes. Gauzy white clouds drifted by.

Hope leaned her forehead against the cool window and thought about her mother as she watched the ground rush by. It still didn’t seem possible that she wouldn’t see her bright, vivacious, loving mother again. When reality did come crashing down on her, the weight of it seemed too much to bear. Her reflections turned to her father, what she’d known and what she’d learned over the past week.

Jock Wilson had left her and her mother when Hope was barely two. She wasn’t aware of the details because her mother never talked about it. Aunt Clarissa didn’t know much either or, if she did, she wouldn’t say. Her father had taken off to make a fortune with the internet. Hope had no idea if he’d wanted them to move with him and her mother had refused, or if he’d simply left without giving them a choice. Hope wondered if he’d enlighten her, but did it really matter?

Her father had owned and operated a computer components manufacturing plant in Canyon Creek. He was reputed to be one of the most successful businessmen in the area at that time. Evidently it hadn’t been enough for him. She and her mother hadn’t been enough.

Manufacturing was a huge contributor to the Texas economy, and a lot of people in Canyon Creek had earned their living at her father’s plant. His company had been one of the largest employers in town. As a consequence, her father’s leaving—or more accurately, the closing of his plant—had created considerable hardship. Nearly everyone in Canyon Creek had been negatively affected.

Hadn’t Luke thrown it at her when he’d mentioned her father’s having destroyed the town? Many people had lost their jobs, Luke’s father among them. The impact on the local economy was still talked about fifteen years later.

Hope had heard, too, that her father’s employees wanted to buy the business from him, but he’d refused their offer. Instead he’d closed the plant.

She would’ve thought he’d want the proceeds from the sale of his business, either to his employees or a competitor. Aunt Clarissa told her it had to do with some sort of financial advantage folding the company would create for him. Apparently he wanted to show he’d lost money on it. One thing she understood about her father was that he was a shrewd businessman. It must have made sense for him from a business perspective, if not a human one.

The building had sat empty for years until it was finally torn down. Now there was a Taco Bell and a gas station where the plant had been.

After Jock Wilson left Canyon Creek, no one heard from him again, as far as Hope knew. If he’d had any contact with her mother, Hope was unaware of it. Her mother had received some sort of financial support, but again the details were sketchy, and it couldn’t have been much. Hope speculated that might be part of the reason her father had wanted to show a business loss, to decrease the amount of support he’d have to pay.

Whatever the circumstances behind her parents’ split, it had obviously been acrimonious. There hadn’t been a single picture of her father in their home. The only images Hope had of him were those she’d found on the internet.

He was a tall, distinguished-looking man, slender, with short, slicked-back hair. She guessed the color of his hair would’ve been close to hers at one time, but now it was streaked with gray. His eyes weren’t anything like her deep brown ones, though. They were a piercing slate gray. There was no warmth in them, judging by what she could see in the pictures. Even when he smiled, it never touched his eyes. She pulled a picture from the side pocket of her backpack to refresh her memory of the man who was her father.

Examining the picture, Hope resented the guilt she felt every time she remembered what her father had done. But was she any better? Here she was, leaving Canyon Creek, too. As far as everyone was concerned, her reasons weren’t very different from her father’s—and she was the one who’d convinced them of that.

A few days after her run-in with Suzie, Hope had come to appreciate the significance of her impulsive actions. She’d been prepared to endure the move to San Jose, with the expectation that when she turned eighteen, she’d come home again. But what she’d done—what she’d said—made that impossible.

With the pretense she’d created, there was no way she could return. The dynamics had already shifted during the week since her “revelation.” People treated her differently.

What she had done weighed heavily on her. Aunt Clarissa had urged her to tell everyone the truth, but Hope couldn’t bring herself to do it. She just didn’t have the strength or the energy to set things right. Still believing that moving to San Jose was her decision, Luke had tried to change her mind until the very end. She couldn’t forget the look of hurt and anger—and astonishment—on his face when she’d seen him that last time. When she’d told him there was nothing left in Canyon Creek for her. In some respects that was true. Her father had made all the arrangements to settle her mother’s estate, what there was of it, and sell their small house and its contents. She was on her way to her father’s with nothing more than a few suitcases and no idea what lay ahead.

Usually she looked forward to summer. Being out of school, working with her mother at the garden center where she was a manager and being with Luke. But now the months without classes stretched unnervingly ahead of her.

The plane was soaring higher, shrouded in dense white clouds. She put in earplugs, laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes—until she suddenly jolted awake. Confused, she glanced outside and saw that they were on the ground and the tarmac was rushing past at an alarming speed. She clasped the armrests to steady herself and wondered where they were. Hadn’t they just taken off? Checking her watch, she was surprised to find that she’d been asleep for over three hours.

The plane slowed and pivoted, and the terminal building came into view; they were at the gate in minutes.

As soon as the flight attendant announced that it was safe to do so, Hope gathered her belongings. Having been seated in business class, she was among the first passengers to deplane. She made her way to the baggage carousel, searching for her father.

There was no tall, slender, silver-haired man that she could see. A hint of panic shot through her. Then she noticed a man in a dark blue suit walking toward her. Surely this wasn’t her father. He couldn’t be. He was shorter than she’d imagined, had a stockier build, and his hair was thick and black. Most significantly, he couldn’t have been much older than thirty.

But he was definitely headed in her direction. She took an involuntary step back as he reached her.

He swept his gaze over her. “Are you Ms. Hope Wilson?”

She wanted to take another step back but resisted. “Yes.”

He nodded. “I’m Mr. Wilson’s chauffeur, Morris. I’ll take you to his home.”

“Oh” was all she could say. It came out as a squeal. Here she was, leaving her life behind, and her father couldn’t meet her himself? She didn’t think she could’ve been more disappointed, but she’d been wrong. And the chauffeur hadn’t said “your father.” Or “your home.” She hadn’t realized that she’d nurtured some small kernel of hope that maybe—just maybe—her father wouldn’t be as bad as she dreaded. That he’d welcome her and they’d be able to find some common ground.

Instead, he’d sent his chauffeur. Hope had an overwhelming urge to run back up the bridge, back on the plane. But that wouldn’t have accomplished anything.

With a sinking heart, she knew her only option was to go with this Mr. Morris, to a house that wouldn’t be her home, to a man who’d be a father to her in name only.

She wouldn’t let them see her pain and disappointment. She straightened her spine. “Thank you, Mr. Morris,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

“It’s just Morris, miss,” he clarified, as he took her backpack and arranged for a porter to carry the rest of her luggage to the sleek, silver limousine waiting at the curb.

Soon they were driving through a residential area with gated properties, pristine lawns, tall hedges and sprawling gardens. As Morris signaled a turn into one of the entrances, Hope shifted forward to get a better look. Black wrought-iron gates opened smoothly to let them pass and they drove along a textured concrete surface intersecting areas of brilliant green, perfectly trimmed turf. Rows of towering palm trees marched along on either side. As they rounded a curve and the house came into view, Hope sucked in a breath. It wasn’t a house. It was a mansion.

Grand and imposing, it had turrets and balconies and iron railings. The walls were warm, butternut-yellow stucco, the roof deep-red clay tile and the wood of the doors, shutters and trim a rich coffee brown. Flowering shrubs abounded. Although it was just early evening, lights glowed cheerful and inviting.

Morris pulled up adjacent to a set of wide stone stairs leading to the front portico and ornately carved double doors.

Hope was so stunned by the magnificent mansion her father called home that she sat motionless, even when Morris held the car door for her.

“Miss,” he prompted, and she glanced up, having almost forgotten he was there.

She exited the car, grateful for the hand he offered. She moved toward the trunk, but Morris forestalled her. “I’ll take care of your luggage. You go on in.”

Hope climbed the steps, and before she reached the landing, the door opened. A woman in her early thirties, with a pleasant, serene face, shoulder-length brown hair and wearing a pale blue uniform, stood in the entryway. A small smile curved her lips and she seemed to curtsy, more a bob of her head. “Welcome to Glencastle, Miss Hope. I’m Priscilla. We’re happy to have you here.”

Those simple words pierced Hope’s heart. If only her father was glad to have her, things might’ve been tolerable. But she didn’t believe it for a moment. If he’d been happy, why wouldn’t he have met her at the airport or at least greeted her here?

She forced herself to be more positive. Maybe there was a good reason for his absence. He was an important businessman. Maybe he had an unavoidable meeting. “When will my father be home?” she asked timidly.

“He is home, miss. Come in, please.” Priscilla gestured for Hope to enter the vestibule and left the door open for Morris, who was right behind them with some of Hope’s luggage.

Hope’s heart sank further. Her father was home and didn’t consider it important enough to meet her? “Will you take me to him?” she asked, unsure of herself.

“That’s not possible. He’s busy right now. You’ll see him later, as he made sure he’d be dining at home, since this is your first night here. Well, come with me. I’ll take you to your rooms.”

Hope followed Priscilla up an elaborate circular staircase. An enormous chandelier hung overhead, dripping with sparkling crystals, and paintings with bold slashes of color decorated the curved walls. Priscilla led her down a hall and through a doorway.

“These will be your rooms,” Priscilla announced. “If there is anything that’s not to your liking, please let me know and I’ll take care of it.”

Hope hugged her backpack tightly to her chest and entered the enormous room. Or rather, suite of rooms. There was a sitting area with a large flat-screen TV and sound system, an alcove with a desk, and a large bedroom, with an adjoining bathroom. Morris must have taken another stairway, as two of her suitcases were already inside, next to the corridor leading to the bedroom.

“Would you like me to unpack for you?” Priscilla offered.

“Oh, no, thank you.” Hope managed a smile, grateful for this small offer of kindness. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to rest for a while.”

Priscilla nodded. “I should’ve realized you’d be tired. You’ve been traveling, and it must all be very difficult for you. Can I get you anything?”

“A cold drink would be nice, thank you.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” Priscilla executed another little head-bob as she backed out of the room. No sooner was she gone than Morris appeared with her other suitcases.

Hope had barely had time to open her first bag before Priscilla was back with a silver tray holding a pitcher of iced tea, a glass and a plate of sugar cookies. She placed it on the coffee table in the sitting area. Pulling a small cell phone from her pocket, she set it next to the tray. “I’ll leave this for you. I’ve put my number in it. If you need anything, just call.”

“Thank you,” Hope murmured. She imagined she looked as forlorn and miserable as she felt, because Priscilla gave her a reassuring smile. “You’ll get used to it here. Take all the time you need to settle in.”

Rather than easing Hope’s trepidation, Priscilla’s compassion threatened to destroy what was left of her composure. “I...I...” To her horror, tears welled in her eyes. She dropped her backpack and covered her face with her hands.

Seconds later, Hope felt Priscilla’s arms around her. The woman smelled of lavender and cinnamon. She rubbed Hope’s back reassuringly. “Shh. Shh,” she soothed. “You’ve been through a lot. Take a rest or a bath. Leave the unpacking. I’ll take care of that for you later. Just relax for now.”

Hope accepted her comfort for a minute before stepping back and brushing at the moisture on her cheeks. “So I get to meet my father at dinner?”

Priscilla reached forward, then seemed to reconsider and dropped her hand. “Yes. It’s at eight, as it is every night Mr. Wilson dines at home. I’m supposed to finish work at five, but I often don’t leave until well after. I’ve made arrangements to stay late this evening. I’ll come and get you shortly before eight to escort you to the dining room.”

Priscilla’s gaze skimmed over Hope’s T-shirt, jeans and sneakers. “You might want to wear something else. A dress, maybe. Your father believes in dressing for dinner.” Priscilla’s face softened. She motioned toward the cell phone. “Please call if there’s anything I can do.”

* * *

HOPE WAS WEARING her best dress, a pretty floral print her mother had bought for her seventeenth birthday. Simply seeing the dress made her long for her mother, but she’d managed to contain her grief by the time Priscilla came to fetch her shortly before eight. Walking into the spacious, formal dining room, Hope noted that everything appeared old and staid, in stark contrast to the modern feel of what she’d seen of the rest of the house. There was a well-worn carpet on the floor, an imposing wooden table with matching chairs upholstered in rich brocade, and deep-rose velvet drapes edging the tall windows.

Soft music, something classical, was playing in the background.

Seated at the head of the long table was her father. He had a narrow, chiseled face and short-cropped gray hair. He wore a charcoal suit, white shirt and a yellow-and-blue paisley tie. There was a stack of papers in front of him and he held a multifaceted crystal tumbler filled with a rich gold liquid. A man, formally attired in a black suit and tie and wearing white gloves, was standing behind her father. For some reason Hope wanted to giggle. Instead, she said a silent thanks to Priscilla for her advice about what to wear. In her jeans, she would’ve been seriously underdressed and would’ve felt at an even greater disadvantage. Self-consciously she smoothed her hands down her skirt.

Her father’s eyes shot up, a pale gray, no warmer than they’d been in the photographs she’d seen of him.

“Well, don’t just stand there.” Her father’s voice boomed across the great expanse of the room. “Come, come.” He gestured toward the place setting to his right without rising. “Have a seat.”

Priscilla pushed Hope gently from behind. “Go ahead. It’ll be fine,” she murmured in her ear. “He won’t respect you if he thinks you’re afraid of him,” she added in a whisper.

Hope felt her knees wobble and was relieved that they weren’t actually knocking together so that her father would notice. When she reached the chair, the black-suited man pulled it out for her. She mumbled a thank-you and began to sit—only to spring up again as she felt the chair hit the backs of her legs, presumably because the man had pushed it in for her.

She squirmed a little and had just settled in her chair, when Black Suit draped a napkin across her lap.

Her father set his papers aside, finished his drink, and the butler, or whatever he was, removed the empty tumbler and replaced it with a crystal goblet into which he poured a small amount of deep-red wine. Her father tasted the wine, and at his nod, Black Suit topped up the glass. He then held the bottle questioningly toward Hope.

She stared at him, unsure what was expected of her.

“Well? Would you like some wine with your dinner?” her father demanded.

“I’m only seventeen,” she squeaked.

“I know precisely how old you are. I was there when you were born, but that doesn’t answer the question. Billings can’t be standing there all night with the bottle in his hand.”

“Um...no, thank you.”

“Well, then.” Her father took a long, appreciative drink of his own wine, while Billings removed her wine goblet and poured water from a silver pitcher into another glass. Next Billings placed bowls containing a rich, fragrant, ginger-colored soup in front of her and her father. A delicious aroma wafted up. Not having had anything to eat since she’d left Canyon Creek that morning, other than a couple of the cookies Priscilla had brought her, she could hear her stomach grumble in response. Mortified, she glanced at her father and clasped her hands across her belly.

Her father’s eyes met hers. Without comment, he picked up the bread basket and offered it to her. She hesitantly selected a roll.

He kept his gaze on her, long and intense. Hope had the urge to squirm again.

“You look just like Rebecca,” he finally proclaimed. “Your mother was an extraordinarily beautiful woman. You resemble her.” He nodded, as if in approval, and reached a hand toward Hope. She nearly jumped when he took a lock of her hair and slid it through his fingers. “You’ve got her hair, too. It was, as they say, her crowning glory.”

Hope thought his expression was wistful, but that was probably wishful thinking on her part. Her sense of grief and loss intensified, and she averted her eyes and spooned some soup into her mouth.

“Tell me about yourself,” he commanded before she had a chance to swallow. “And let’s see if you’re like her in other ways, too.” The last comment was flung at her like an insult. “Then we’ll talk about how our living arrangement is going to work.”


CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_4a57f58e-c796-55f7-9385-67bbc31c7f78)

SOMEHOW, HOPE MADE it through dinner. She couldn’t remember what she’d eaten or much of the conversation. Stamped on her mind was a pair of hard, assessing eyes.

When she returned to her room, she found that Priscilla had unpacked her belongings.

Wandering around the beautifully furnished, spacious suite—lifting a ceramic bowl, trailing her fingers across the gleaming surface of a credenza—she felt completely adrift.

In the bedroom she noted that the bed had been turned down, the pillows fluffed, and her childhood teddy, Sebastian, well-worn from being well loved, sat in the center of the bed. That small gesture, from a woman who must’ve understood how lonely she was, made her want to cry.

She saw the photographs—of her and her mother, Aunt Clarissa, her and Luke together, and her other friends from Canyon Creek—arranged on the dresser. Uncannily, her favorite picture of her mom had been placed on the nightstand. Next to it was a glass of milk and a small plate of cookies. Her mother used to do that when Hope hadn’t been feeling well or just needed her spirits lifted.

She reached for the silver-framed photo on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed. She ran a fingertip across the image of her mother. Her father had it right; she did look like her, especially now that she was older. Pride crowded out some of the pain. But she was even prouder of being like her mother, something her father apparently derided. Her mother had been beautiful, but more important, she’d been lovely inside, a kind and gentle person. Hope missed her more than ever.

She wished her mother had told her about Jock. She knew very little about her father, and she couldn’t understand his reaction. He had wanted her to live with him. Then why did he seem so cold and uncaring, so...hostile? It made no sense.

Her father thought she was like her mother, and that seemed to elicit his scorn. He had her future mapped out, too. The schools she’d attend, the courses she’d take, even the people she should be friends with. All of that he’d discussed—no, discussed was the wrong word. He’d informed her over dinner.

Hope sighed heavily. Replacing the picture frame, she reached for Sebastian and hugged him. Nestling back against the soft pillows, she closed her eyes.

* * *

HOPE BOLTED UP in bed and looked around, disoriented. Recognition came with a sense of alarm. She was in the room she’d been assigned in her father’s house. She heard a soft knock on the door and realized that must have been what had awakened her. Her eyes felt gritty and her throat raw. She was still clutching Sebastian and placed him gently against the pillows, then swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The room was dark, except for the bedside lamp and the alarm clock’s glowing red numbers, indicating it was ten minutes after seven.

She must have dozed off and slept right through the night, even neglecting to take off the dress she’d worn the evening before. All the sleepless nights must have been catching up with her.

The knock sounded again.

“Just a minute,” she called out in a scratchy voice. Scooting off the bed, she rushed into the bathroom, brushed her hair and tried to smooth the wrinkles from her dress. When that didn’t work, she grabbed her housecoat hanging on the back of the door and pulled it on, tying the belt snugly around her waist.

Hurrying through the dim living area of the suite, she bumped her shin against the corner of the coffee table and yelped. With a slight limp, she made her way to the door, opened it a crack.

“Good morning, Hope,” Priscilla said cheerfully, balancing a large tray in her hands. “I brought you breakfast.”

“Um...thanks.”

Priscilla smiled. “You’re going to have to open the door for me to bring it in.”

“Oh, sorry.” Hope stepped back.

Priscilla took the tray to the small table by a window in the sitting area. She pushed back the heavy drapes and bright sunshine flooded in.

Hope followed her. “So, I’m not having breakfast with my father?”

Priscilla glanced over her shoulder. “If you want to have breakfast with your father, you’ll have to get up a lot earlier. He usually eats at five thirty and is generally out of the house by six.”

“Oh.” There was a tremor in Hope’s voice. It was clear she hadn’t made a great impression on her father the night before, and now she’d missed breakfast. “If I was expected downstairs at that time, no one told me.” She knew she sounded petulant.

“Don’t worry about it, miss. He wasn’t expecting you. Sit down and eat.”

Hope slid onto the chair and tugged the lapel of her housecoat up to cover the collar of her dress. “You didn’t need to go to all this trouble. I can come down and get my own breakfast, once I know where everything is.”

“It’s no trouble. It’s my job. But when you’re ready, I’ll show you around the house, so you can find your own way.” Priscilla lifted the cover off the plate in front of Hope. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Hope stared at the omelet, sausages, toast, orange juice and the cup of hot chocolate Priscilla was pouring from a thermos. It all looked and smelled wonderful, but she didn’t have much of an appetite. “No, thank you.”

“Fine, then.” Priscilla did her little head-bob and moved to the door. “When you change, leave that pretty dress on your bed. I’ll have it cleaned and pressed for you.”

Hope’s hand flew to her neck. Touching the collar of her dress peeking out above the housecoat, she felt the heat rise to her face.

“You don’t have to worry about things with me, miss,” Priscilla said softly.

“Thank you—and please call me Hope.”

“Okay, Hope.” Priscilla opened the door. “I’ll be back in an hour, if that suits you.”

Hope nodded, and Priscilla shut the door behind her.

* * *

AN HOUR LATER, Hope was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. She’d pulled her hair back into a high ponytail and slipped on her sneakers. She smiled when Priscilla arrived and followed her out of the room. Soon, her head was spinning, and she still hadn’t seen the entire house.

“Why don’t we take a break?” Priscilla suggested. “You can sit outside, and I’ll get you some iced tea.”

It sounded heavenly to Hope. Priscilla led her to a flagstone patio and a small sheltered garden, edged by blooming shrubs. “Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll be right back.”

Compared to the grandness of everything she’d seen in the house, Hope liked the closed-in feel of the space. She stroked a velvety petal and inhaled the sweet and spicy scents of white gardenia and jasmine. She had her nose buried in the center of a bright red blossom, eyes closed, when the bush vibrated and she heard a scraping noise at its base. She stumbled back, causing both motion and sound to be repeated.

Crouching down, she cautiously pushed aside a large branch to have a look...and started to laugh. Unmindful of the damp grass, she fell to her knees. Still laughing, she reached under the base of the bush and hauled out a squirming, wiggling, mud-covered puppy. “What are you doing here?” she inquired of the little dog.

The puppy mewed and continued to wriggle. Hope leaned in to nuzzle him and pulled back quickly. “Wow! What they say about sweet puppy breath doesn’t apply to you, does it? You stink! I bet that’s more than just mud covering you.”

In response, he slathered Hope’s face with his tongue, landing one grimy paw on her white shirt and another on her cheek. “Thanks, pal,” Hope exclaimed. She swiped her upper arm across her face, smearing the mud.

“I have our refreshments,” Priscilla announced as she emerged from the house carrying a tray laden with a pitcher, glasses and a plate of sliced lemons. She almost dropped the tray when she noticed Hope kneeling on the grass. Depositing it on the patio table with a clatter, she rushed over. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Let me take him.” She made a grab for the puppy, but Hope drew him back, streaking more dirt on her shirt and along her arms.

“Look at you! You’re covered in muck,” Priscilla said. “Morris was supposed to have taken that little dog to the pound a week ago.”

Hope’s eyes rounded, and she tightened her hold on the puppy. “To the pound?”

“Well, we didn’t want to. Morris and I thought it would be nice to have a dog around, but your father...”

“He didn’t want a dog,” Hope concluded.

Priscilla nodded.

“Where did he come from?”

The puppy in question enthusiastically licked the side of Hope’s neck.

“We have no idea. He just appeared a couple of weeks ago.”

Sinking back on her heels, Hope placed the puppy on the ground, where he executed a somersault in pursuit of his tail, before clambering onto her lap again. Hope nudged him, and he rolled over on his back, where he remained with an expectant look on his face. When Hope obliged with a tummy rub, his gleeful squeals stole her heart. “So, he doesn’t belong to anyone?” she asked.

“Not that we could determine.” Priscilla squatted down, too, and patted the puppy on the top of his upside-down head.

Hope looked at her thoughtfully. “My father asked me last night if there was anything he could do to make me feel more comfortable here.” She continued to rub the little dog’s belly, while he nipped at her fingers with his needle-sharp teeth. “I’ve always wanted a dog, but I couldn’t have one in Canyon Creek because Mom was allergic. What if I told my father I wanted to keep the pup?”

Priscilla smiled. “There’s always a chance. Why don’t we take the little guy into the mudroom and get him cleaned up first? Make him more presentable.”

It took several cycles of lathering and rinsing until the bathwater finally ran clear. The pup was still mostly black, but the brown had washed away with the sudsy water to reveal a bright white belly and white boots on three of his paws.

“How big do you think he’ll get when he’s full grown?” Hope asked as she toweled him off.

Priscilla pursed her lips. “I’m no expert on dogs, but the shape of his face makes me think he’s got some Irish wolfhound in him, but the rest of him looks like Labrador. If he’s mostly Lab, he won’t grow too large. Probably about sixty pounds when he’s full grown.”

“That’s not so big. My father wouldn’t object to me keeping him, if I promise to take care of him and keep him out of his way, would he?”

Before Priscilla could answer, the outside door swung open and Morris strode in, the screen door slamming behind him. He took one look at the two women, the little dog between them, and started to back out.

“Not so fast, Morris!” Priscilla called.

He stopped in his tracks, but kept his hand on the door handle.

The puppy—having aptly demonstrated his displeasure with the entire bathing process—must have seen his opportunity to escape. He squirmed out of Hope’s grasp and charged straight for the doorway, crashing headfirst into the screen. Fortunately, he bounced off it, landing ingloriously on his backside.

Hope rushed forward to make sure he was unharmed, but Morris was quicker. He held the puppy up and stared directly into his eyes. “Way to go, Einstein. I thought we’d learned about screen doors.”

Hope grinned as Morris passed him to her. She studied the pup. “Why don’t we call him Einstein?”

“I know him a little better than you do,” Morris said, “and I can assure you, he’s no genius.”

“That’s the point! He’s exactly the opposite, which is why the name is perfect for him. Hey, Einstein,” Hope said, testing it. When the puppy’s ears perked up in apparent recognition, she dropped a kiss on his now-sweet-smelling, fuzzy snout.

“Einstein it is,” Priscilla concurred. She shifted her gaze to Morris. “Where were we?”

Morris started to back out of the room again.

Priscilla laid a hand on his arm. “Whoa, my friend. Weren’t you supposed to have taken this little guy to the pound?”

“Well...yes,” he replied, looking everywhere except into her eyes.

“And yet here he is,” she said, stating the obvious. Annoyance flashed in her normally calm blue eyes. “He could’ve starved. Or worse, he could’ve wandered out into the road and been hit by a car.”

“No, not really.”

“And why would that be?”

Morris rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, because I was feeding him, and I set up a space in the garage for him. I’m not sure how he managed to get out, since it’s fenced.”

“You always did have a soft heart under that tough exterior, Morris, to go with your soft head!”

Hope grinned widely, watching the interplay between her father’s two employees as she squatted down to finish towel-drying Einstein.

The pup had other ideas. With a series of rapid-fire yips, he barreled as fast as his oversize paws could carry him toward the screen door again. This time he landed spread-eagled on his belly.

Laughing, Hope gathered him back in her arms.

When she approached her father that evening about Einstein, he relented. She could have him, with the understanding that she’d keep “the pesky dog” out of his way.

That wasn’t a problem, as Hope tried to avoid her father as much as possible. From that day onward, she and Einstein were inseparable.

* * *

THREE WEEKS AFTER Hope’s arrival at Glencastle, the first call came. Hope was in her room, going through the frustrating exercise of teaching Einstein basic commands, when Priscilla appeared in her doorway. “You have a call, Hope.”

“I do?”

“He says he knows you from Canyon Creek. His name is Luke.”

“Luke?” Hope glanced at the telephone on her desk. “How did he get this number?”

“I have no idea, but he’s on hold.”

Hope scrambled up and backed away. Einstein, obviously thinking it was a game, gamboled after her and latched on to the bottom of her yoga pants, starting a determined game of tug-of-war. Hope pulled her pant leg loose, picked up the puppy and cuddled him. “I...I can’t.”

Priscilla raised an eyebrow. “He says he needs to talk to you. What would you like me to tell him?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care. Please just have him hang up.”

Priscilla moved to the phone and lifted the receiver. “No,” she said into the phone. “I’m sorry but she’s—” She sent Hope a final questioning look, but Hope just shook her head emphatically and took a couple more steps back. “She’s not available...No...Is there a message?...I see. Yes. Goodbye.”

Hope placed Einstein on the floor. “What did he say? No. No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.” She turned on her heel and rushed into her bedroom, Einstein scampering after her.

Luke’s email arrived later that day. The subject line read: “Urgent.” Hope’s finger hovered over the mouse as she vacillated. Should she open it or not? Fleetingly she wondered if it could be about something more than her having left Canyon Creek, but she dismissed the thought. Eventually, she deleted the email unread and set up her mailbox to send any future emails from Luke directly to spam. It would be better—easier—for both of them if it was a clean break. That way Luke could get on with his life.

The first letter arrived a week later. Priscilla brought her the plain white envelope. Hope didn’t need to see the return address to know it was from Luke. The handwriting was all too familiar. She threw it unopened in her wastebasket.

All future calls went unanswered and all future letters were relegated to the garbage.


CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_113304ea-e11f-5251-9ed6-7aff81e7394f)

WITH NOT MUCH to do until school started, Hope was outdoors as much as possible. She couldn’t deny the beauty of San Jose, especially in the area where her father’s house was located. Being outside had the added benefit of making it less likely that she’d bump into her father. Glencastle had stunning grounds, yet he never seemed to venture out. The times they spent together tended to be what she considered command performances. If it wasn’t mealtime—usually dinner—it was either because she’d displeased him in some way and was summoned or because there was some aspect of her future he hadn’t fully resolved and he wished to “discuss” with her.

As summer passed, Hope gravitated more and more to Priscilla and Morris for companionship. The three of them kept their friendship to themselves, and Hope avoided her father’s other employees as much as she could. She sensed that they were different from Priscilla and Morris, and she didn’t want to risk having them report on her.

She assisted Priscilla with her household chores and helped Morris wash and tinker with the cars. Soon after she had arrived, her father had bought her a sporty little Audi, which joined the collection of cars in the enormous garage.

She’d learned that Priscilla was a single mom to an adorable six-year-old named Molly, who was developmentally challenged. Priscilla’s husband had died serving in the armed forces overseas. Priscilla said she was fortunate to have both her mother and her mother-in-law, who shared the responsibility of looking after Molly when she was at work and Molly wasn’t in school.

Hope had met Molly on a couple of occasions when Priscilla had brought her to Glencastle; she was a happy child and sweet natured. It wasn’t a hardship to look after Molly whenever Priscilla needed her to.

With every passing week, Einstein grew. And grew. But he didn’t seem to be losing his clumsiness.

Finally, as summer neared its end, the phone calls from Luke dwindled, as did his letters.

Hope threw her energy into preparing for the start of the school year, with a combination of nerves and excitement. Not just because it would get her out of the house, but she enjoyed learning. After only a brief conversation during that first dinner, it had been decided that she’d attend Los Gatos High School for twelfth grade and then San Jose State University the year after.

Early on in her relationship with her father, Hope had understood the importance of picking her battles. Since she had no objection to attending San Jose State, and since one high school in San Jose was the same as any other to her, it was easy to comply with her father’s wishes in this regard.

For her last year of high school, her father allowed her some latitude in the courses she chose—and what she studied was more important to her than the actual school she attended—but they had a full-blown argument over what her major would be in university the following year.

He had retained his cold detachment, and Hope suspected that his desire for an heir had been the driving force behind his insistence on having her live with him. She’d discovered from Priscilla that he’d never had any serious relationships after her mother. With no other children, he intended to groom her to join his technology company. But Hope’s interests lay elsewhere. She wanted to work with animals, in health sciences or research.

Hope put her father’s long-term goals for her out of her mind and concentrated on the here and now. It was no longer possible to go back to Canyon Creek after she turned eighteen, considering how she’d departed and how people felt about her—but he’d still have less control over her at that age. If they couldn’t come to some reasonable compromise regarding her education, she’d have to consider her options. When she talked it over with Aunt Clarissa during one of their periodic phone conversations, Clarissa agreed that Hope shouldn’t concern herself about her first year of university yet. A lot could change in the intervening months. Why worry about something that might not happen?

Hope applied herself at school, but it didn’t seem to matter how high her marks were or how much she tried to learn about her father’s business; she just couldn’t seem to please him.

Her phone calls with Aunt Clarissa were a source of comfort and support. But things had changed for Clarissa, too. She’d gotten a new job—a leadership position with a competing company—and had a boyfriend. Hope was happy for her. She knew Clarissa would always be there for her, but with the added management responsibilities and the new demands on her personal time, Hope accepted that their contact would be less frequent in the future.

At school, Hope kept to herself. She had no interest in making friends. She didn’t want to expose herself to heartache again with her future so uncertain.

With summer approaching once more, she wanted to do something productive with her time. She was offered a job at the pet store where she shopped for Einstein. Nothing fancy. She’d be stocking shelves, helping customers, doing some grooming and, best of all, they’d let her bring Einstein to work. She’d never had a job before and she was over-the-moon happy! But when she mentioned it to her father, he forbade her to accept the position. He declared it beneath her. If she wanted a job, she could work for him. Start learning about the business.

Hope turned down the job at the pet store. Her father’s resistance was just too great. She also declined the administrative position he offered her.

Priscilla came up with an idea that appealed to Hope and met with acceptance from her father. She volunteered at the local medical center to assist with the care of critically ill patients.

The passage of time might have dulled the pain, but Hope still missed her mother terribly. She knew that the upcoming one-year anniversary of her mother’s death would be a particularly bad day for her.

Other than when Hope was in school, the hours she spent at the medical center were the rare occasions she and Einstein were separated. She tried to schedule her hospital visits for when her father was away from home. She preferred to leave Einstein with Priscilla in the house, rather than with Morris in the garage, especially since his duties required him to be in and out all the time.

It didn’t always work out.

Hope received a call early one morning from the hospital, informing her that a regularly scheduled volunteer was unable to make his shift because of a family emergency. They needed her to fill in. She couldn’t say no, despite being aware that her father was working from home most of the day. He’d said something about having legal contracts to review and had an evening appointment after that.

Eager to get Einstein out of the house, she went looking for Morris. Unfortunately, he was running errands for her father, and he wasn’t due back until midafternoon.

She’d already made the commitment to the hospital, so she had to do it. Priscilla promised she’d watch Einstein and, above all, keep him out of her father’s way. She told Hope not to worry. After all, Einstein might be big and ungainly, but he was a sweet, affectionate dog and no trouble at all.

* * *

WHAT THEY HADN’T counted on was a dustup in the front yard shortly after lunch between one of the housekeeping staff and a gardener, and they were heading, shoving and shouting, right toward the side of the house overlooked by Mr. Wilson’s office window.

Noticing the altercation through the kitchen window, Priscilla gave Einstein a firm command to stay in the kitchen and rushed out the side door with the obvious intent of averting a disaster, and possibly two firings.

* * *

EINSTEIN WASN’T ACCUSTOMED to being on his own. His ears and tail drooped, and he pressed his big black nose against the glass insert of the door. He plopped down by the screen door, his huge sigh near-human, and his eyes tracked Priscilla as she hurried around the corner of the house. He waited...and waited...and waited. Finally deciding he was on his own and not liking it at all, he rose with another big sigh. Pulling his leash from the hook by the door, he grasped it in his mouth and sauntered off in search of someone who could take him outside, where all the action was.

Jock was in his office reviewing legal papers when Einstein stuck his head through the door. A quiet dog when he wanted to be, Einstein padded into the office and plunked down next to the chair, without Jock’s noticing. After sitting patiently for a few minutes, Einstein bumped Jock’s knee with his nose.

Jock shoved Einstein away. “What are you doing in here?” he asked gruffly, as he brushed at the damp spot Einstein’s nose had left on his trousers.

In response, Einstein raised one paw. His leash still clasped in his mouth, he thumped his tail expectantly.

“I don’t have time to take you for a walk, nor do I want you in here. Go get one of the help.”

Einstein whined, but taking Jock’s position as a “not now” rather than a “no,” he rolled onto his back, legs splayed.

Jock sent him a last dismissive look and turned his attention back to his document.

Not achieving the desired outcome, Einstein sat up again and crept a little closer to Jock. Getting no reaction, he dropped the leash and once more butted Jock’s knee.

“What the... If you insist on staying in here, be quiet and leave me alone to do my work. Just be thankful I haven’t thrown you out on your ear!” Jock flipped a page and reached for the glass of red wine he had on his desk. As he raised the glass to take a sip, Einstein nudged his elbow, more insistently this time. The glass tipped and burgundy liquid splashed on the desk, the papers and down the front of Jock’s shirt and tie.

Slamming the empty glass back on its coaster, Jock sprang up and dabbed at the spreading stain. “You!” He turned on the dog menacingly.

Not sure what he’d done wrong, but clearly appreciating that he was in trouble, Einstein cowered and backed away. “I’ve a mind to toss you out right now,” Jock raged at the trembling dog, as he yanked off his ruined tie.

Retreating as he was, Einstein smacked against the door, shutting it as he did. Jock was narrowing the gap between them, and Einstein no longer had the option of fleeing. He drew himself in as much as he could, trying to become invisible—an impossible feat for a dog his size. Jock shot out a hand toward the doorknob just above Einstein’s head. Fearing he was going to be struck, Einstein gave a sharp, terrified bark.

Jock pulled his hand back quickly, but his face was livid. “Threatening me, are you? We’ll see who comes out on top.” Moving swiftly, he looped his tie around Einstein’s neck, twisted to tighten it and tugged the dog forward so he could open the door. He dragged the petrified dog along the hall, down the stairs and through the front vestibule past a wide-eyed Priscilla.

She hurried after him. “Mr. Wilson, what are you doing?”

“Taking this mongrel to the pound, where he should’ve been taken in the first place.”

“You can’t do that,” she pleaded.

He threw her a contemptuous look. “Watch me.”

“What about Hope? She’ll be devastated! It’s my fault. I was supposed to be watching him. Please let me have him, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you again.”

“Too late for that. This dog...” He yanked the tie, making Einstein whimper. “He spilled my wine, growled at me, and I’m sure if I wasn’t quicker than he was, he would’ve taken a bite out of my hand, too.”

Priscilla cast her eyes to the cringing, pitiful Einstein. “Please leave him with me,” she implored. “I’ll take him to the pound if that’s what you really want.”

“We’re not going through that again. I can’t trust you to do it. I’m personally taking him and having him put down like the dangerous animal he is.”

“He’s not dangerous—”

“Quiet!” Jock roared. “You dare to question me?” He wagged the index finger of his free hand at her. “Another word from you, and you’ll be out on your ear, too.”

“But Hope...”

“My daughter is my business. You two have gotten too close for my liking. But that’s for later. Right now, this creature is going to the pound.” He hauled Einstein across the floor and out the door, banging it shut behind him.


CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_a192fba3-8c1c-58ba-9f62-3a2b734109ca)

PRISCILLA PACED ANXIOUSLY in front of the window of the upstairs sitting room. It had an unobstructed view of the driveway, so she’d know right away when Hope returned. Why didn’t that girl ever carry her mobile phone? But Priscilla knew the answer. She didn’t have many people she wanted to talk to. Priscilla had tried reaching Hope at the hospital, but they’d sent her on an errand and couldn’t reach her either.

Priscilla fretted that time was very much of the essence. She had no doubt that Mr. Wilson had taken Einstein to a pound and—true to his word—claimed him to be a threat and ordered him put down. By checking the last number dialed on his office phone, she’d identified the animal shelter Mr. Wilson had selected. She’d tried to call repeatedly, without success. If Hope wasn’t home soon, Priscilla would go there, even though she knew she’d lose her job if Mr. Wilson found out. She worried about how she’d support Molly if that happened, but she had to do what was right. What kind of role model would she be to her beloved little girl if she didn’t?

Just as Priscilla reached for the phone to call a taxi, Hope’s Audi rounded the curve. Priscilla dashed down the stairs and outside, grabbing Hope’s arms before she had a chance to get out of the car. “Something terrible has happened. Your father took Einstein—”

“Took him? Took him where?”

“He took Einstein to have him...put down.”

“What are you talking about?” Hope screamed, shrugging free of Priscilla’s hold. She was frantic. “Do you know where he took him?”

Priscilla reached in her pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. “Here. I wrote down their number, too. I’ve been calling and calling, but it goes to voice mail every time. I’ve left a few urgent messages.”

“Okay, keep trying. Call me on my cell if you reach someone.”

“You don’t have it with you.”

“Right.” Hope was about to run inside.

“No. Don’t waste time. Here.” Priscilla took her own phone out of her pocket and handed it to Hope.

* * *

HOPE GRABBED THE phone and jumped back in her car. Speeding down the driveway, she was thankful for the first time that her father had bought her the little Audi. She hardly slowed at the foot of the drive and screeched out onto the road, cutting off another vehicle. A long, loud horn blast followed.

Glancing at the slip of paper on which Priscilla had written the address of the shelter, Hope set her navigation system through voice command. It wasn’t that far, but rush-hour traffic was bound to slow her down.

Please don’t let me be too late. Please don’t let me be too late, she chanted. She would’ve shot through the changing lights if not for the person ahead of her, who stopped his vehicle when the light turned amber. She tapped the steering wheel impatiently. “Come on. Come on.” When the lights changed, she waited for oncoming traffic to clear and roared past the vehicle in front of her. An approaching van had to swerve to avoid colliding with her. Another horn blared just as she was pulling back into her own lane. Cutting it that close had scared her. She’d be no good to Einstein if she got in an accident while trying to get to him. She slowed her speed and prayed she’d get there in time.

When Hope finally reached the animal facility she was shaking uncontrollably. She leaped out of her vehicle and ran in through the front door. Not seeing anyone at the counter, she rushed around it and into the back, where she could hear animal noises. A tall, slender man was bent over a bag of kibble, measuring food into metal dishes. She called out to him and he straightened, surprise evident on his face. “You’re not allowed back here.”

Hope skidded to a stop, her eyes desperately searching the small, rusty cages around them, looking for Einstein. Not seeing him, she feared the worst. She grasped the man’s arms. “I’m sorry, but you have to help me,” she pleaded with dry, heaving sobs. “My dog was brought in here earlier today, to be put down. It’s a huge mistake. He’s not dangerous. He’s as gentle as they come. It was my father. He never liked him and I need to get him. My dog, I mean—not my father.”

“Whoa. Slow down, will you. I didn’t catch all of that, but we don’t have anyone here today who can euthanize animals.”

The relief that coursed through Hope was instantaneous. “Okay. Okay. So please show me where Einstein is, so I can take him home.”

“Einstein? The large black-and-white dog, looks mostly like a Lab?”

“Yes!” Hope almost cried with relief. “Please take me to him.”

“I’m afraid I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” She cried. “You have to.”

“No. No. I would if I could. I can’t. He’s not here.”

“Where is he?”

“I was just coming on shift when that dude dropped him off. He claimed the dog was vicious and unpredictable. Said the dog had tried to attack him.”

“That is such a lie! Einstein wouldn’t hurt a mouse. Where is he?”

“Nancy, the other staffer who was here, took him. I have to admit, he didn’t seem mean to either of us. He was more terrified than anything, if you ask me. Well, since we don’t have anyone here to euthanize animals, as I told you, and we’re at capacity right now, Nancy arranged for the city’s animal control department to pick him up.”

“No!” Hope shouted. “He’s not dangerous. Where did they take him?”

The man provided the address and directions.

“Phone them.” She pointed a finger at him as she sprinted to the front door. “Please call them and tell them not to do anything to Einstein. I’m on my way to get him.” She swung around just before she exited. Her voice turned hard and cold. “Tell them if they so much as harm a hair on him, I’m...I’m going to sue them for every penny they have.” That would be no consolation if she lost Einstein, and she realized she sounded very much like her father, but she didn’t know what else to say.

Her stomach was churning with nausea as she raced to get to the animal control facility. She didn’t bother to park in the lot, just left her car in front of the building. She dashed up the steps to the door and pushed. It didn’t budge. She tried again; it was definitely locked. That was when she noticed the sign. Fridays they closed at four. It was now approaching five. She rattled the door again and screamed in frustration.

Looking around, she saw a couple of cars parked behind the building. That meant there had to be people inside. She ran toward the back; peering through a window, she could see two people moving around. Hope banged on the glass with her fist, but they didn’t seem to hear her. She continued around the side of the building, until she got to a large fenced yard. Inside the enclosure, there was a back door. Without hesitation, she climbed the chain-link fence, dropped down on the other side and ran to the door.

This time her pounding got the occupants’ attention. The two women looked at the door, then at each other. The taller woman approached Hope. “We’re closed,” she yelled through the glass.

“I know, but it’s urgent!” Hope shouted back. “Please open up.”

“Come back tomorrow,” the woman advised.

“No!” Hope pummeled the door again with both fists. “Please don’t walk away. Please. You have my dog and there’s been a terrible mistake.” Tears were brimming in her eyes, blurring her vision.

The woman paused. “Which dog?”

Hope described Einstein. “You have to let me take him home,” she finished, sobbing. “He’s all I have. He’s everything to me.”

The woman glanced back at her companion, exchanged some words with her, and then Hope heard the lock disengage and the door opened. “Thank you,” she breathed. “Please tell me he’s all right.”

The other woman joined them where they were standing. “He’s fine,” she assured Hope. “He was next on our list, but we couldn’t believe he’d hurt anyone. He’s such a sweet boy. We were just discussing what we should do. He’s scared, but he’s fine.”

Hope threw her arms around the woman, tears coursing down her face. “Oh, thank you.” She hugged the other woman, too. “Please take me to him.”

Einstein might have been big, but when he was released from his cage, he crawled into Hope’s lap, licking every inch of her face and neck. She hugged him tight and buried her face in his fur. “You’re okay, pal. You’re okay,” she murmured, attempting to soothe him as much as herself.

When she finally stood up, Einstein plastered himself to the side of her leg like Velcro.

“We’re glad you got here in time.” One of the women trailed a hand along Einstein’s back. “We fell for the big guy.”

“Believe me, we don’t want to euthanize any animal,” the other woman added. “But look at this place. We’re out of room, as you can see, and we have more and more animals coming in. When they’re hurt or sick, we can’t tend them properly. The city just doesn’t provide enough funding for veterinary services for all the strays and injureds we get.”

“We wish there was more we could do,” the taller woman interjected as they walked through the kennel area to the front office. “But we just don’t have the resources or the facilities.”

Hope’s heart broke as she looked around at the sad-eyed cats and dogs, resigned because they’d been there too long, and the eager new arrivals, trying to catch her attention, begging her to free them from their small, dank cages.

“I can’t thank you enough,” Hope said as she signed the paperwork to claim Einstein.

“We’re happy to have you two reunited!” one of the women told her.

“Take care of each other.” The other woman waved goodbye.

Outside, Hope took Einstein for a walk, letting him stretch his legs and work off some of his nervous energy. She also needed the fresh air.

The relief she felt that the unimaginable hadn’t happened left her weak and a little dizzy. Now that Einstein was safely with her again, her anxiety was crowded out by an intense anger. How callous of her father to do what he did! Didn’t he appreciate what Einstein meant to her? He knew full well that Einstein wasn’t dangerous. Why hadn’t he waited until she got home so they could have worked things out?

Hope couldn’t take Einstein back to her father’s house, now that she’d seen what he was capable of. But where could they go?

Did it really matter? Anywhere was better than living with such a dreadful man. He obviously didn’t love her and never would. They simply coexisted beneath one roof...one very big roof!

She stopped suddenly. How could she have forgotten? Her birthday was next week! She would be eighteen years old. Legally an adult. That meant she could leave her father.

She let Einstein jump in the car and took her time driving home. She was no longer in a hurry, and she needed a chance to think. To figure things out. She didn’t have to worry about facing her father that evening, because he was staying overnight at the hotel after his business function. Small blessings, she thought. If she just packed up and left that night, she wondered if he’d do anything about it.

Yes, he would, she decided. She was no more than a possession to him, and he was greedy with his possessions. He would find her if for no other reason than to prove that he was in control. That he could.

By the time Hope reached the house, she had a plan. She pulled up to the garage rather than the front of the house. Even though she knew her father wasn’t home because he would’ve left for his evening engagement by now, she didn’t want to risk Einstein being seen. She didn’t trust all her father’s employees the way she did Priscilla and Morris. Not that the others were bad people; they were just fearful of her father.

She left Einstein in the car. He whined and pawed at the window, obviously not wanting to be separated from her again so soon. She spoke to him reassuringly, then climbed the stairs at the side of the garage. She knocked and was about to knock again when Morris opened the door. Sitting inside on his sofa was Priscilla. From the look of her flushed, puffy face, Hope surmised that she’d been crying.

Seeing her, Priscilla shoved the soggy tissue she held into her pocket and rushed over. “Did you find Einstein? Is he okay?”

Hope nodded. “He’s fine. He’s in my car. I’m sorry—I should’ve called,” she said regretfully.

“Oh, thank goodness you found him,” Priscilla exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Hope. “I’ve been worried sick. It’s all my fault. If anything had happened to him, I...I don’t know how you’d ever forgive me. I don’t know if I could’ve forgiven myself.” She withdrew the tissue from her pocket and blew her nose loudly.

Morris touched Priscilla’s shoulder. “Why don’t the two of you sit down. I’ll get Einstein. He shouldn’t stay cramped up in that little car, especially after what he’s been through.”

Hope smiled at him gratefully. A moment later, the door opened again, and Einstein scurried into the room. Hope noted that Morris still looked glum, and it didn’t seem to have anything to do with Einstein. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“You should tell her,” Morris said to Priscilla. “She needs to know.”

Priscilla stared intently at her hands. “It’s not something she should worry about.”

“It certainly is,” Morris replied with more heat than Hope had ever seen the stoic chauffeur exhibit.

“I’m sitting right here! Please don’t talk as if I am not. Tell me what?” Having already gone through the gamut of emotions, Hope felt her stomach tense once more. She slid her gaze from Morris to Priscilla.

Morris sat down and took Priscilla’s hand in his. “She needs to know, since you’ll both have to be careful.”

“Careful about what?”

Priscilla drew in a huge breath. “Your father confronted me, when he got back from the pound. He said I was growing too close to you.”

“I don’t understand. We’ve been careful. He doesn’t know we’re friends.”

Morris passed Priscilla a fresh tissue so she could dab at her eyes. “We have been, yes, but maybe not enough. You see, I defied him when he was taking Einstein to the pound. So when he got back, he reprimanded me for being...insubordinate.”

Morris snorted.

“He said how dare I question his decision-making, and that I was forgetting my place because of our relationship. Yours and mine.”

Morris cut in. “How could she forget? She works insanely long hours, even though she’s supposed to be done by five.”

Hope watched as Priscilla patted Morris’s knee, and she wondered if she’d missed something between her two friends.

“Anyway, your father said I had to stop being friendly with you,” Priscilla told her apologetically.

“Yeah. He said she was just the help, and if she didn’t know her place, she’d be easy to replace.”

Priscilla choked back a sob. “Your father pays very well, and even with all the help I get from Molly’s grandmothers, I need the income for her.”

Hope knew how dedicated Priscilla was to her daughter, and she was fully aware of Molly’s special needs. “You won’t lose your job,” she assured her, and the plan she’d formulated on the drive home gelled in her mind. She had to leave her father’s house, not only because of Einstein, but because of her friends. She couldn’t let Priscilla or any of them suffer on her account. She was about to tell them about her decision, but if her father found out that they knew, he would just as likely fire them both.

No, she couldn’t take them into her confidence. “I’ll think of something,” she said vaguely. She turned her attention to Morris. “I can’t take Einstein into the house with me until I get things sorted out. Could we set up a space for him in the garage again, like you did when he was a puppy?” She forced a rueful smile. “But this time so he can’t escape?”

Morris ran a hand along Einstein’s back, as he lay at their feet. “That won’t be necessary. He can stay here in my apartment for as long as you want. If he’s here or out in the back, your father won’t know.”

“I appreciate it. Please keep him out of everyone’s sight,” Hope added as she stood, Einstein clambering up beside her. She hugged them both. “I promise it won’t be long.”

She already knew the issue would be resolved in a week. She and Einstein would be gone the day after she turned eighteen.


CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_112b89ab-2312-5a67-886e-bde72d9e8b53)

HOPE WAS UP early the morning of her birthday. Her father was throwing her a party, mostly for his business associates and their children. She hadn’t really made any friends at school, but she’d given her father the names of some of her classmates for the invitation list. He’d offered to fly Aunt Clarissa to San Jose for the event, but Hope had declined, knowing it would’ve been too awkward for everyone involved when she left the next morning. She’d wake up early, tell her father over breakfast and be gone by nine.

She’d spent the past week preparing as much as possible. After seeing the conditions at the two animal shelters she’d visited to rescue Einstein, she realized more than ever that she wanted to work with animals. She found a posting online for a veterinary assistant in Monterey that appealed to her. She was excited when she was actually put through to the person who’d be hiring for the position. They had a short telephone chat, and Hope was asked to come for a formal interview. More from opportunity than design, she was going to Monterey, California.




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