Hope (Beach Brides Book 7) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Introduction

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Excerpt

  About the Author

  Book List

  Hope

  Beach Brides Series

  Aileen Fish

  Hope

  Copyright © 2017 by Aileen Fish

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the author at http://AileenFish.com.

  Cover Design by Raine English, Elusive Dreams Designs

  www.ElusiveDreamsDesigns.com

  Grab your beach hat and a towel and prepare for a brand new series brought to you by twelve New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors…

  Beach Brides! Fun in the summer sun!

  Twelve heartwarming, sweet novellas linked by a unifying theme.

  You’ll want to read each one!

  BEACH BRIDES SERIES (Hope)

  Twelve friends from the online group, Romantic Hearts Book Club, decide to finally meet in person during a destination Caribbean vacation to beautiful Enchanted Island. While of different ages and stages in life, these ladies have two things in common: 1) they are diehard romantics, and 2) they’ve been let down by love. As a wildly silly dare during her last night on the island, each heroine decides to stuff a note in a bottle addressed to her “dream hero” and cast it out to sea! Sending a message in a bottle can’t be any crazier than online or cell phone dating, or posting personal ads! And, who knows? One of these mysterious missives might actually lead to love…

  Join Meg, Tara, Nina, Clair, Jenny, Lisa, Hope, Kim, Rose, Lily, Faith and Amy, as they embark on the challenge of a lifetime: risking their hearts to accomplish their dreams.

  This is Hope’s story….

  A year after finding a message in a bottle, a California cowboy is goaded into contacting the woman who wrote it, and he quickly fears he waited too long.

  Find all of the Beach Brides at Amazon!

  MEG (Julie Jarnagin)

  TARA (Ginny Baird)

  NINA (Stacey Joy Netzel)

  CLAIR (Grace Greene)

  JENNY (Melissa McClone)

  LISA (Denise Devine)

  HOPE (Aileen Fish)

  KIM (Magdalena Scott)

  ROSE (Shanna Hatfield)

  LILY (Ciara Knight)

  FAITH (Helen Scott Taylor)

  AMY (Raine English)

  PROLOGUE

  Hope’s message in a bottle:

  Dear Sir Galahad,

  Once upon a time I believed in fairy tale endings, and I think a part of me still does. What I don’t believe in is a knight on a white horse riding into my life and making everything perfect. Rather ironic, isn’t it, since I call you Sir Galahad? For the sake of the game, I guess what I want is a man who’ll not give up, who’ll stick it out until the end, even when the setbacks seem overwhelming. Life isn’t easy, but it’s so worth it!

  Since this bottle will end up twenty thousand leagues under water somewhere around Atlantis, I’m safe in pretending the good parts of fairy tales are true. My day to day life is happy, and who wants an ending?

  Thanks for listening—er, reading. Maybe we’ll meet one night in our dreams.

  alwayshopeful@...

  Chapter One

  Standing in the principal’s office of Lane Elementary School happened much too often lately. Hope Reynolds kept her gaze on the bundled-up children outside, who ran screaming and playing in the weak winter sunshine. The small space was too bright, the old-fashioned overhead lights glaring off white wall.

  “I know you’d hoped counseling would help Jayden, but we need to do something in the meantime,” Principal Joe Jennings said. “This is the third time he’s started a fight this month.”

  Turning away from the window, Hope rubbed her hands over the sleeves of her cashmere sweater to ward off the chill the situation gave her. “I’m at wit’s end. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  “I have to suspend him, or it’ll look like favoritism.” Joe’s lips were thin, and she knew his distress was more because of the situation than Jayden.

  “I understand.” Hopefully her mom would understand, too. Mom felt Hope treated her son with kid gloves, and would happily use a firmer hand to his backside, which Hope protested adamantly against. The problem was, Mom was the only person Hope could ask to babysit. “I’ll let Marni know she’s on her own for the rest of the day, and take him home.”

  Returning to the school library, Hope found her friend and coworker Marni. “He’s at it again.”

  Marni looked up from the cart full of books she was shelving. “Oh no.”

  “He’s suspended for a week. I hope Mom doesn’t have plans.

  Her son Jayden hadn’t taken Hope’s divorce well when he was three, and when her long-time boyfriend moved out six months ago, Jayden’s angry outbursts multiplied. If she wasn’t the head librarian at Lane, he would likely have been expelled.

  “Have you had any luck convincing your ex-husband to let Jayden visit?” Marni slid a book between two others on the shelf.

  Folding her arms across her breasts, Hope shook her head. “You’re kidding, right? With his new wife and baby, he has no interest in us.”

  “Jayden needs a man in his life. What about sports? Sign-ups for soccer are still open.”

  “I don’t know…he might just learn to kick in addition to hitting.” She hated sounding like such a cynic, especially when discussing her child, yet she was at wit’s end.

  “You need to find a good guy. You both can use it.” Biting back a grin, Marni looked away before Hope could respond.

  “Look what happened when the last one left. If I date at all before Jayden’s in college, I’m not going to let him meet the guy. He feels abandoned when I break up with someone. I won’t subject him to a revolving door of men. We’ll get through this, somehow.”

  She really didn’t mind being alone, most of the time. Her girlfriends were there for a movie night or going out dancing. Valentine’s Day without a date didn’t faze her, and her mom made sure her birthday didn’t go unnoticed. And Jayden filled every free moment with his love. Life was good.

  Just because her friends in the Romantic Hearts Book Club were finding love right and left didn’t mean she needed to follow suit just to fit in. Her heart tugged a bit when she read how deeply in love they all were—their emails just glowed with happy emotion—but one day when her son was happy with his life again, she could think of her own needs.

  Hope picked up her purse and coat and returned to the front office to collect her son so they could go home. The weather was perfect for hot cocoa and cookies, however Jayden might take that as a reward for misbehaving. He’d have his usual apple slices and milk, then do his homework, and she’d insist on no video games for a few days. Mom would have to suffer through the extra grumpiness of a whiny eight-year-old.

  Her week ahead stretched for miles in front of her, even thou
gh she’d only be with her son in the evening after work. She’d spend her lunch break making calls to the school counselor for a referral for someone to guide Jayden back to enjoying his childhood. She had to find a way to help him release his anger in a safe way before someone got seriously hurt.

  ****

  Chase Bowman tossed another bale of hay off his flatbed truck. The weather had been unusually cold and his supply was getting low. With more snow on the ground than in past winters, there was nothing for his cattle to eat other than the hay he threw down daily, yet they were fat and healthy, which was all he could ask. “That’s it for here. Let’s take the rest to the southwest corner in case any strays are down there.”

  “Sounds good.” Matt Frost, his best friend and ranch hand, climbed into the passenger side of the truck.

  The quarter-mile ride was spent in silence, yet as soon as they exited the warm cab, Matt started in on his current obsession. “Have you written her?”

  Slanting him a grimace, Chase simply said, “No.”

  “How long have you had that bottle? Six months? A year?”

  He knew exactly how long it had been since he found the bottle in the sand when he and Dad had gone fishing for the last time off Matagorda Bay. Three weeks after they’d returned to the ranch, Dad lost his battle with cancer. That was exactly five months, two weeks and three days ago.

  Chase never imagined how sharply he’d feel his father’s loss. The days of the two of them riding their ranch were long gone; sitting across the table from an empty chair sucked, though. Mom was quieter now, still deep in her grieving. The house had a heavy, gray, desolate cloud over it, which he was all too happy to escape each morning.

  “Ten years from now the answer will be the same. No, I haven’t emailed her. She’s probably a scammer, some guy planning to ask for money to come to America. I’m not wasting my time.”

  “Then why do you still have the bottle?”

  Shoot, he needed to toss that thing. He wouldn’t even have the bottle if it weren’t for Dad. Now it was a memento of their final vacation together. It had sat on the windowsill in the tack room, forgotten, until Matt noticed it and read the letter. Chase wiped his forehead with his coat sleeve and adjusted his hat. “I guess I was too lazy to recycle it.”

  “Uh-huh. You put the letter back inside, I noticed. You’re planning to get in touch. You should. You could use some female company.”

  “Email isn’t company, and didn’t cyber-sex go out in the nineties? It’s not my style, regardless.” After tossing the last bale, Chase took off his gloves and tucked them part way into his back pocket. “It ain’t happening, Matt. You’re wasting your time.”

  He had no valid reason for hanging onto the message in the bottle. Still, something in the short note drew him to the woman who wrote it. She allowed herself to dream, yet recognized them for what they were. Fiction. She appreciated her life as it was, just like he did. What could it hurt to write her? Winter nights were long and he could use a distraction from TV. Like her, he didn’t believe in fairy tales. Still, it’d be a kick to see what response he got.

  What the heck…might as well do it.

  ****

  After finishing the weekly accounting paperwork, Chase stared at the blank email he’d opened on the computer monitor. This had to be one of his stupider ideas. He was likely to take as long composing the letter as he had getting to this point.

  Taking a cue from her missive, he began.

  Dear Hopeful,

  Geez, that sounded like a reply to a personals ad. What else could he call her?

  First let me say my horse is black, not white, and I wear jeans, not armor.

  Mom insisted he hid his heart behind an armor shield, but that was an exaggeration, and definitely not something to put in a letter to a stranger.

  Your message intrigues me. You sound as happy as you say you are, so why did you write a letter like this? I guess it’s the same reason as mine—curiosity.

  Since you took the time to toss a bottle into the ocean and you included an email address, I guess you’re wondering where it ended up. I found it in the Gulf of Mexico and brought it home to central California. If we were speaking in person, I’d ask where you tossed it. Then we might talk about where we live, or whether we were on vacation or walking a beach near home. After a brief, polite conversation we’d part ways and go on with our lives, taking a bit of fairy tale magic with us.

  Since we’re communicating electronically, we can skip all that and get back to the daily grind. I hope your day went well, and your life continues to be happy. As a dreamer and a realist, I have a feeling you’ll make sure it is.

  SirGalahad@...

  Chapter Two

  Scanning down the list of subject lines in her email inbox, Hope looked for anything from school, or Marni. A snow day alert would be great, although that was unlikely given the heavy rain pounding on her roof. Any other correspondence could wait until after work.

  Then she saw something she couldn’t pass by. Message in a bottle. Her gaze quickly darted to the sender name. Sir Galahad? Her heart sank and the momentary thrill faded. Marni was pranking her, or one of her book club friends wrote it. Still, glancing at it wouldn’t make her late for work.

  Dear Hopeful, the letter began. She read on. He—no, she, since it was a joke—signed it Sir Galahad. What else would she expect? Making up a name would have made it appear more realistic, which was exactly why she knew one of her friends had written it. They’d talked all the time about the spam messages they received, so they’d know exactly what to do to avoid Hope’s internal filter.

  She checked her watch. Time to drop Jayden off at Mom’s and go to work. No more pondering her knight. “Did you brush your teeth?” she called out while picking up her purse and salad container.

  “Yeah.” Jayden shouldered his backpack. He’d chosen jeans with a tear in the knee, a stained football jersey and his favorite sneakers, which would get ruined in the puddles. The ends of his brown hair stuck out from beneath a baseball cap. He needed a haircut badly. “Why do you always ask me that?”

  “Because I’m your mom. You’re lucky I don’t grab your chin and check.” Her teasing grin did nothing to wipe away her son’s scowl. He rarely smiled anymore, and the only time he refrained from snapping out single word responses was when he had a complaint.

  Half a year had passed since her ex-boyfriend had called it quits. Hope wasn’t too surprised when Jayden had angry outbursts for a few weeks afterward, yet the moodiness hadn’t gone away even now. Some days she wondered if her boy would ever be cheerful again. Perhaps when the local soccer league started for the season she could enroll him. He might make some new friends, or at least have something to look forward to.

  Jayden had been such a lively child through his toddler years. Then when he was four, Hope and his father had divorced. Tantrum was a mild term for how Jayden took the change. The fact his father moved to the east coast and never called or visited didn’t help/ Still, after about six months, she’d seen a return to the happy boy she loved.

  Any relationships she’d had since then were kept away from Jayden, in hopes he couldn’t be hurt when things didn’t work out. Then she’d met David. No matter how much she tried to take things slowly with him, her heart refused to be held back. And David had returned the affection. She’d felt comfortable introducing him to Jayden, and the way they took to each other made her so happy. Jayden blossomed under the masculine attention. He got along with his classmates again, treated his teachers with the respect they deserved. Life had gotten easy.

  The romantic glow didn’t last, and she and David split like so many couples did. And Jayden turned into a little monster.

  Before Hope realized it, she was pulling into her parking spot at the school. How ridiculous she was. While it should’ve been a giggle-inducing prank, that silly correspondence instead led her down a cloud-covered path into her past.

  Enough of that. Checking her makeup in the rear
view mirror, she put on her librarian smile and went inside.

  It wasn’t until lunchtime that the email crossed her mind. During a lull in children wanting to check out books, she mentioned Sir Galahad to Marni. “Remember how my friends and I threw those bottles into the ocean on our trip? Well, I heard from someone who claims to have found mine.”

  Marni’s grin widened and her blue eyes brightened, her pale blonde hair pulled neatly into a ponytail. “You’re kidding. What did he say?”

  “Not much, to be honest. I think it’s the idea of some guy actually having read my message that made my heart race for a second or two.” Hope raised an eyebrow and peered at her coworker. “I’m sure I can cross you off the usual list of suspected senders, right?”

  “You don’t believe a man sent it? Hon’, I have too much drama going on in my own love life to mess with yours. Are you going to reply?”

  Was she? There was little point in it, given she wasn’t in a position to take advantage of a romantic prospect. See, that proved it. Romantic prospect. She couldn’t even think the words falling in love. “I doubt it. That letter was just what I needed to come out of my funk this morning, but nothing more. Can you believe, he actually pretended to be Sir Galahad?”

  “He did?” Marni leaned one elbow on the bookshelf beside her. “How sweet. Maybe I should talk to him.”

  “You’re welcome to.” She laughed and recited the full details of his missive. “It is kind of sweet that he’d play along with my pretense. Which is all the more reason I’m certain one of the book club girls did so. Half of us have heard from the people who found our bottles. Each of those is now happily in love. I’m sure they feel sorry for the rest of us and want to make us feel included.”