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Authors: Belleporte Summer

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N
O MATTER HOW LONG
she lived, Katherine knew she would never forget that moment, when, with the aching sweetness of a birth pang, she looked up and saw her daughters walking toward her, arm in arm. A space filled with light seemed to form around her as the crowd fell away and she walked, arms outspread in welcome, toward her prodigal child.

“Mother!”

Katherine heard only that one blissful sound before gathering Jo to her, becoming one with her again at last. “Oh, my baby, I’ve missed you so.” Then she choked, her throat clogged with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” she heard Jo whisper.

“Oh, darling, I’m the sorry one. Your father was wrong. I was wrong.”

Jo drew back, her brown eyes swimming. “We have so much to say to one another. So much to undo.”

At last Katherine became aware of a slender handsome man standing behind Jo, stroking his salt-and-pepper beard and studying them with a compassion that pierced her soul. She held out her arm to him. “This,” she said, “must be your Noel.”

Jo turned slowly, and Katherine was struck by the love on her daughter’s face. “Yes. And despite the pain, I’d do it all again for him.” She cleared her throat. “Noel, this is my mother.”

No handshake for Jo’s Noel. He stepped forward, his eyes glazed with tears, and embraced Katherine as if he’d known her forever. “It was time,” he said huskily. “Long past time.”

Jo looked around. “Where’s Laurel?”

“Right here, Mother.” Tears streaming down her face, Laurel stepped from the curve of Ben’s arm and joined what had become a group hug. “Thank you,” she murmured, “thank you all.”

 

W
ITH SURPRISING TACT
and despite their curiosity, the guests, except for those close to the family, began to depart soon after the initial celebration of welcome. Ellen, her green eyes glowing, left what Laurel had noticed was an animated conversation with Jay and pulled Laurel into her arms. “I feel like I’m in a fairy tale. Oh, girlfriend, I’m so happy for you.”

“I was so afraid,” Laurel admitted, “and I couldn’t talk to you about it.”

“Soon, though. I want to hear the whole story.”

“You will. In great detail.” Laurel smiled delightedly. “You know, you’re right. This is a fairy-tale ending.”

“Or beginning,” her friend added wisely, before kissing her on the cheek and returning to Jay, who waited with an eager expression on his face.

Laurel liked the sound of that—a beginning. She joined her parents, Nan and her grandmother on the deck. Her mother was starting to explain, from her viewpoint, what had happened that day so long ago. Perched against the railing, Laurel listened without comment, thankful that her family was coming together, and at the same time regretful for the years and shared experiences that could never be reclaimed. Such a waste. Yet would she be the person she was, otherwise?

At one point in the conversation, her grandmother caught her eye and with a slight nod indicated the beach. Laurel looked down. At the bottom of the stairs sat Ben, gazing pensively out over the lake. With the silent communication that only those bound by love enjoy, her grandmother winked and Laurel knew where she belonged.

Quietly she slipped around the corner and started down the steps, aware only of a warm, moist breeze, the repetitious assurance of breaking waves and the promise of Ben. Dear Ben, who had loved her enough to go to West Virginia and bring her mother home.

 

B
EN SENSED
her presence before he heard her. She sat down beside him, hugging her knees. Without a word, he put his arm around her and pulled her close. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he felt a deep peace. As if, for once, the heavens were aligned perfectly.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

“Me, too.”

“You left Mike in jail. You put me first.”

He nodded.

“Then you went all that way to West Virginia for me.”

“I love you, Laurel.”

“I’m glad there’s plenty of that to go around. Megan, Mike—I love them, too. And when I get to know the rest better…”

“I know. Your dad? For the first time in a long while, I feel as if I have a father.”

“We’re lucky, aren’t we? We have families who care about us. Who let us care about them.”

He tilted her chin. “And we have each other.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Laurel…” He hesitated a moment, quelling the thudding of his heart. “Please marry me.”

“Oh, Ben.” Her eyes widened and her mouth formed the most beatific smile he’d ever seen. But still she hadn’t answered him. “Only if you’ll promise me one thing.”

“What?” Whatever it was, it was hers.

She stood, pulling him up with her, and curled herself into his arms. “Look.”

He followed her gaze. Summer Haven. Then it registered. “You want to be married here.”

“Where else?” she murmured before framing his face in her hands and looking at him with wonder. “I’ll always love you, darling Ben. It doesn’t get any better than this.”

He felt neither the sand beneath his feet nor the glow of moonlight on his face, only the sensation of her sweet kiss, giving him a sense of belonging he’d been searching for his whole life.

When the kiss ended, he chuckled deep in his throat. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I think it’s going to get better and better.”

“I stand corrected,” she said, taking his hand and leading him up the beach toward the lights of Summer Haven and toward her family, made whole once again—toward their future.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-8993-6

BELLEPORTE SUMMER

Copyright © 2011 by Laura A. Shoffner

Originally published as A SUMMER PLACE © 2002 by Laura A. Shoffner

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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