Can they build a future on hope alone?
For years nurse and grief counselor Christie Bates has been teaching her patients to confront their fears, express themselves and trust in hope. But as her feelings for cancer survivor Eli Roberts and his two children grow, can she overcome her own fear and love a man who lives every day with the possibility of recurring illness?
Tackling cancer and single parenthood simultaneously has turned Eli into a devout realist. Which is why he finds Christie’s perpetually upbeat attitude so aggravating. Still, despite himself, she’s making a place in his heart. If only he could offer Christie more than an uncertain future.
“I wouldn’t change a thing.”
As Eli said it, they turned their heads at the same moment and touched noses. His eyelashes brushed Christie’s brow when he blinked in surprise. For a moment she’d thought he’d been about to…
Softly, he pushed back the damp tendrils clinging to her forehead.
The gentle pressure of his hand lingered against the side of her face, his fingers cupping her chin so tenderly that it made her heart ache. Would she ever learn to accept that friendship was all there was to her and Eli?
Here was the chance to ask the million-dollar question. “Even Jacqueline walking out?”
“Especially that.” He leaned closer, their noses touching once more. “Because then I couldn’t have met you.”
Her lips parted as she breathed in the moment and the man.
There was no denying her feelings for him. But did she dare risk the chance that he might get sick again? That she’d end up hurting him somehow? She cared too much for him now.
“Eli, I don’t know.”
Dear Reader,
I learned at a young age that love is an energy that cannot be destroyed. When it is true, love endures, regardless of what life may bring.
When I first learned of my grandmother’s cancer, I wanted to leave college and spend every minute with the incredible woman who’d taught me to be compassionate of others, to have high standards for myself and the men I dated, and that crackers and butter are actually the best snack while watching 1950s horror movies.
Needless to say, her will to have me graduate on time won out, and I finished college just as her life ended. Although we had a chance to say goodbye, and for her to remind me to wear lipstick in public, a window in my heart stays open. Her light will shine through it for the rest of my life.
I’ve met many couples who have touched me deeply with their unflagging devotion during challenging times. Loving another, regardless of what the future may hold, plays a large role in Wish Me Tomorrow, when Christie Bates, a grief counselor, meets cancer survivor Eli Roberts. Together they learn that love and family are worth any risk—even if tomorrow may only be a wish.
I would love to connect with you and hear your inspiring stories. Please visit me at www.karenrock.com.
Karen
Wish Me Tomorrow
Karen Rock
www.millsandboon.co.uk
KAREN ROCK
An English language instructor, Karen Rock has adored romance since her grandmother first gave her Harlequin Presents books. When Karen learned of Harlequin Heartwarming, she was inspired by the opportunity to write unforgettable, deeply romantic, tender love stories that mothers could share with their daughters. When she’s not writing, Karen loves scouring estate sales for vintage books, cooking her grandmother’s recipes, hiking the “high peaks” and redesigning her gardens. She lives in the Adirondack Mountain region with her husband, daughter and two Cavalier King Charles spaniels who have yet to understand the concept of “fetch,” though they know a lot about love. For more information on Karen’s upcoming books, check out her website at www.karenrock.comor follow her on Twitter @karenrock5. She’d love to hear from you!
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To those I’ve loved who are here or gone.
You are ever in my heart.
Contents
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
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
ONE EMPTY FOLDING CHAIR. Christie Bates stared at the vacant seat then checked her iPhone to make sure the wall clock was accurate. Yep, still 6:35. Everyone in the cancer support group she led was here except one, the one who’d been coming the longest. Her insides twisted. He hadn’t missed a meeting in three years.
And the sight of an empty chair in a room like this was always...ominous.
She exhaled slowly and squashed the negative thought as her eyes roamed over the chatting group. The world needed positive energy. And they needed it most of all. She jumped when a hand squeezed her shoulder.
“Would you like me to close the door so you can begin?” asked Anne, the West Side YMCA’s receptionist. Pool-bound children shrieked in the stairwell outside.
“No!” Her voice sounded more forceful than she’d intended. It carried over the noise and quieted her group. Seven pairs of concerned eyes turned her way. So much for keeping things upbeat.
She pinned on a bright smile and patted Anne’s hand. “We’re not quite ready to start yet, but thanks.”
Anne studied her for a moment then shrugged. “I’ll be out front if you need me.”
Her heels clicked across the wood floor and echoed in the high-ceilinged room. Overhead fans stirred the muggy June air, the humidity so thick Christie felt as though she wore it. At least she’d had time to change out of her nurse scrubs and shower before the meeting. After a twelve-hour hospital shift, the mini-break had made her feel human again.
“Why are we waiting?” a newer member asked around a mouthful of chocolate-chip cookie.
Another pointed at the clock. “We always start at 6:30.”
“You’re right.” Christie swallowed her fear and widened her smile. Her clients had enough stress to handle. They didn’t deserve more. “But let’s give it a few more minutes in case someone’s late. You know how hard it is to get a taxi in the rain.”
The group nodded sagely then resumed their conversations. She sagged against the back of her chair. Phew. Her quick excuse worked. It was a logical reason for the delay given Manhattan’s traffic issues and she wouldn’t imagine another possibility. There was power in positive thinking. She shredded a napkin in her lap. Not that it had saved her brother. If only she’d been there when... She shook her head. Nope. She wouldn’t get on board that dark train of thought.
She bent to pick up her juice cup and discreetly knocked on the wooden floor, no-bad-luck, an Irish superstition passed down by her gran. She’d witnessed enough medical miracles to know that science couldn’t explain everything.
Christie crossed her legs, smoothing her gray pants and rumpled white blouse. Forcing her eyes from the empty chair, she surveyed the assembled group members for changes in skin color, weight and discomfort levels. Everyone seemed stable. But where was her absent client? Perhaps she would ask Anne to call and check on him. She might be overreacting, but knowing he was okay would help soothe her nerves.
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