Page 102 of A Beach House Beginning

Hope was still glowing as Christa pushed her wheelchair out to the Liberty.

“I can transfer by myself,” she insisted, something she wouldn’t have dared try a few weeks earlier.

After Christa broke apart the wheelchair and loaded it then climbed inside, Hope leaned forward from the backseat.

“Mom, I need to tell Jace thank you. Ihaveto. Can we go to his ranch so I can tell him how much I love Mila?”

Christa swallowed hard, dreading the idea of seeing him again as much as she longed for it. She had already said goodbye to him and had thought that was the end of it. Would she have to do it all over again?

Yes. For Hope’s sake, she would.

“Of course,” she murmured. “He might not be home, but we can try.”

“He’ll be home,” Hope assured her. “I know he will.”

But Hope was wrong. Fifteen minutes later they stood on the front porch of his ranch house, a massive, gorgeous log-and-river-rock structure with soaring gables and a stunning view of the mountains.

“That’s the third time we’ve rung the doorbell. I’m sorry, honey. I just don’t think he’s here.”

Hope slumped into one of the half dozen rocking chairs on the porch, tired out since she had walked up the three steps on her own. She stubbornly insisted on walking as much as she could now, to Christa’s mingled dismay and pride.

“I thought for sure he would be home.”

“We can try to call him later.”

“It won’t be the same.”

Maybe it was better this way, Christa thought, though she knew it was cowardly of her to want to avoid another meeting that would only end in heartbreak.

They sat for a moment in silence to let Hope catch her breath for the walk back down the porch, though Christa couldn’t shake the awkward feeling they were trespassing, sitting here on the man’s porch when he wasn’t home.

“We should probably be going,” she finally said. “You have homework, right?”

“I guess.”

Hope needed much more help on the way down the steps than she had on the way up. At the bottom she faltered a little and had to hang on to the railing.

“Do you want me to get the wheelchair?”

“No. I can make it. It’s not far.”

As always, her daughter’s determination humbled her. Everything would be okay, she told herself. Hope was as resilient as a tough willow sapling. Just look at her. She was walking again! If she could survive what should have been a fatal accident, surely Christa could endure her broken heart.

They were only a few steps from the Jeep when Hope’s features suddenly brightened.

“Mom!” she exclaimed, looking off in the distance. “Look! Is that Jace?”

Her heart seemed to catch, but she followed Hope’s gaze to find a rider on a magnificent bay heading toward them at a hard gallop.

The sun had burst through the clouds after they’d arrived at the ranch and now it caught in his dark hair, and he was staring at them in shock, and she suddenly couldn’t breathe.

Her insides clutched in panic and she wanted to rush Hope into the vehicle and drive away again. But then she saw her daughter standing on shaky legs beside her and shame washed through her.

Hope had spent every single day since her accident demonstrating incredible courage and strength. Surely Christa could learn from her example and show a little courage of her own.

She loved Jace McCandless. She couldn’t just let him walk out of their lives without a fight.

Jace stared at the two women standing in the spring sunshine.

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