Shelley Galloway - The Mommy Bride

“I'm fine."

“Glad to hear it.”

The look Ty gave her, so warm and caring, made Claire stir the batter with a little more force than necessary. Made her think maybe he was more attractive than she’d originally thought.

His look made her feel as if she was missing something. Made her remember that once upon a time she believed in dreams and fairy tales. In happily-ever-afters.

No way was she ever going down that path again.

Dear Reader,

I’ve got a story for you. A few years ago, one of my critique partners suggested that our writing group think about helping some women in a homeless shelter. Instead of just writing a check, she thought we should give them gift bags full of all kinds of things we take for granted. Things like toothpaste, shampoo, lotion, soap and combs.

The five of us gathered up these items, and one evening we put together fifty bags for Christmas. We had so much fun, we’ve done it several times since.

Well, then we heard the most amazing thing. Last Mother’s Day, those ladies had some bags left over. They took the extra bags and handed them out to women who were living on the streets…women less fortunate than themselves. Those are some pretty incredible ladies.

Kind of like the heroine of this book, Claire Grant.

Some of you might remember meeting Claire in my novel Simple Gifts. In Simple Gifts she was a homeless mom trying to get back on her feet. Claire and her story resonated with a lot of readers. With me, too! I couldn’t forget Claire, and I knew she and her son, Wes, needed their own happy ending.

I spend most of my days writing, volunteering and being a wife and mother. I’m so thankful that Harlequin has given me the opportunity to write and dream about people I would like to be. Thanks so much for picking up my book. I hope you’ll enjoy Claire’s story. And if you have time, I hope you’ll tell me what you think. Please visit me either at eHarlequin.com, or at www.shelleygalloway.com.

Shelley

Shelley Galloway

Shelley Galloway loves to get up early, drink too much coffee and write books. These pastimes come in handy during her day-to-day life in southern Ohio. Most days she can be found driving her kids to their activities, writing romances in her basement or trying to find a way to get ahead of her pile of laundry. She’s also been known to talk to her miniature dachshund Suzy as if she actually has opinions about books.

Shelley is the proud recipient of a Romantic Times BOOKreviews Reviewer’s Choice Award for her 2006 release, Simple Gifts. Shelley attends several conferences every year and loves to meet readers. She also spends a lot of time online. Please visit her at eHarlequin.com or at www.shelleygalloway.com.

To women who’ve struggled over adversity. And to

women who’ve helped others achieve their dreams.

And, of course, to Tom.

For not blinking an eye when I buy fifty bars

of soap for strangers…or when he discovers that

yet again I forgot to do the laundry.

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 Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

“I knew things were too good to be true,” Lynette pronounced just as a young woman, a little girl and a teen tromped into the reception area of the Lane’s End Memorial Hospital. “I was a fool to think we’d actually have a slow afternoon for once.”

“We had a good forty-five minutes of downtime, that’s got to be a record,” Claire said as she hopped off her stool.

“We almost got our crossword done.”

“Almost.” Lynette quickly shoved their daily crossword to one side as the trio approached, each wearing looks of worry and panic.

Closer inspection revealed a bloody towel wrapped around the boy’s hand. Joking was pushed aside as duty clicked in. “May I help you?”

Treating them to a weary smile, the woman nodded. “Taylor here cut up his hand pretty bad. I think he’s going to need some stitches.”

The little girl’s hair was the exact shade of auburn as the woman’s; she stared at Claire. “We need some help.”

Privately, Claire thought they all did. Their coats weren’t thick enough to ward off the cold weather. Each looked in need of hot soup. And as a slight musty scent floated her way, Claire realized that a shower would be a good idea, too.

A shiver ran through her as she fought back memories. Remembering darker times would do her no good now. She’d do well to keep that in mind. “We’ll get you started in a jiffy,” Claire promised with a smile, though she felt herself getting a little woozy. There was a lot of blood on that towel. “Lynette, I’ll start the paperwork.”

Her partner picked up a phone. “I’ll go ahead and call for assistance.”

After grabbing a clipboard holding the necessary forms, Claire guided the trio to a nearby cubicle. “We’re calling for help so Taylor can get treated right away. In the meantime, we just need some basic information.”

Wariness fought with relief in the woman’s hazel eyes. “I don’t have insurance.”

Claire hadn’t thought she did. In her experience, insurance premiums weren’t high on your list when you didn’t know where the next meal was coming from. “We’ll worry about that in a bit. Just fill out what you can and we’ll concentrate on getting Taylor fixed up.”

The little girl’s eyes widened just before she popped her thumb in her mouth. Tenderness passed over the woman’s expression as she turned to Taylor, who was sitting in the chair next to her. Gently she combed back a lock of hair. “We did the right thing, didn’t we?”

He still hadn’t said a word. The woman didn’t look like she needed an answer.

That was worrisome. As the woman started filling out the forms, Claire glanced back toward her reception partner. “Lynette? Any word?”

“Yep.” Behind her, Lynette was talking on the phone in her usual no-nonsense way, chomping gum in between every other word. “I got put on hold for a sec, but—here we go.” Her voice a little louder, she said, “We’re gonna need some help over here in registration. Yes. Uh-huh. Thank you.”

“Any minute now,” Claire promised. Funny how it seemed like things were taking forever, when in truth the trio had only arrived minutes ago.

As the girl sucked her thumb and the boy said nothing, Claire did what she could to try and provide reassurance. “Everything’s going to be okay,” she said. “The doctors are good here. And the staff’s the best.”

Some of the stress in the woman’s eyes settled. A dash of kindness really did work wonders. Once their gazes met, Claire spoke slowly again. Remembering her son’s last scrape, worn like a badge of honor, she said, “So, how’d you get cut?”

But that question didn’t achieve the results she’d hoped for. Instead of an explanation, all she got was a suspicious look. Finally—almost defiantly—he mumbled, “I cut it on a can.”

The woman’s chin rose a bit. “We were…collecting cans and one had a torn edge.”