Kate James - The Truth About Hope

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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.

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“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.

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