Loree Lough - An Accidental Family

“I hope it’s this clear tomorrow tonight,” he said.

She looked at him, and sent his heart into overdrive. “Why?”

“Might be inclined to throw a couple of steaks on the grill…if you’ll share ’em with me.”

Nadine turned to face him. “Lamont London,” she said, her blue eyes boring into his, “are you asking me out on a date?”

Suddenly, Lamont stared at the floorboards beneath his boots, trying to make sense of everything that was going on in his head and his heart.

“I like you, Nadine.”

She reached over and gently squeezed his forearm. “And I like you, too. You’ve always been a good neighbor, and I count myself lucky to call you ‘friend,’ too.”

Friend? The term made him feel like a schoolboy, because he wanted this to be so much more. He’d broken bones and tamed wild stallions. But something told him trying to woo Nadine might be his greatest challenge yet….

A full-time writer for many years, Loree Lough has produced more than two thousand articles, dozens of short stories and novels for the young (and young at heart), and all have been published here and abroad. She is also an award-winning author of more than thirty-five romances.

A comedic teacher and conference speaker, Loree loves sharing in classroom settings what she’s learned the hard way. The mother of two grown daughters, she lives in Maryland with her husband.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

And then I will welcome you, and I will be a father

to you, and you will be My sons and daughters,

says the Lord Almighty.

—2 Corinthians 6:18

Every time I watch the Oscars,

I empathize with the actors who try—

in a very short time span—to thank everyone

who made their careers and awards possible…

without leaving anyone out! I pray you’ll

bear with me as I make the same attempt to

show my gratitude for the individuals

who helped Accidental Family come to pass:

My faithful readers (many of whom became

cherished friends over the years), my amazing

editor, Melissa (who knows a good story when

she reads one), the creative guys and gals at

Love Inspired (whose talents made this beautiful

cover possible), my real-life hero-husband

(whose support grows stronger and steadier

by the year), my loving daughters (for believing

in me even when I didn’t), and their kids

(who provide thousands of “braggy grandmom”

moments), and Katharine Grubb

(“The 10-Minute Writer,” who shared a few words

that sparked an idea and solved a problem for

the heroine). Last, but certainly not least, to our

heavenly Father, who blessed me with a career

that allows me to enjoy every working moment

and allows me to share His word!

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

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion

Lamont had never felt more alone in his life.

Strange, since the church bulged with longtime friends, family and neighbors, here by invitation to witness his youngest daughter’s wedding.

They stood at the back of the church, just the two of them, waiting arm in arm for their cue to march toward the altar. Lily smiled up at him through the gauzy mist of her veil. “I love Max like crazy, Daddy,” she said, tears shimmering in her big green eyes, “but you’ll always be my best guy.”

He wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, that he was proud of the woman she’d become, that her mama would have been proud of her, too, but a sob caught in his throat. He patted her tiny, white-gloved hand and ground his molars together as those first strains of “The Wedding March” came through the closed chapel doors.

The roses and lilies of the valley in her bouquet began to quake, and he tried again to come up with something, anything that might calm and comfort her. But now the choking sob had made its way to his brain, making him feel just plain stupid as he continued patting her hand.

Then the doors opened, and a couple hundred parishioners turned simultaneously in their pews, smiling and craning their necks to get that first glimpse of the bride and her dad. Evidently, his hearing was pretty good for a guy in his fifties, because despite the window-rattling crescendo of the music, he could make out “Isn’t she pretty?” and “He’s so handsome in a tux,” rushing down the aisle like an ocean wave.

Next thing he knew, Lamont found himself at the altar, lifting her veil, kissing her forehead…and handing her over to the young man who’d take care of his Lily from this day forth.

“Who gives this woman?” the preacher asked.

They’d practiced this, just last night, but Lamont didn’t want to spout the two simple, one-syllable words they had assigned him. “She’s not a woman,” he wanted to shout instead, “She’s my baby girl!”

But after his mechanical “I do,” he walked woodenly to his seat, and sat tugging at the stiff collar of the tuxedo’s white shirt, trying to pay attention as Lily recited her vows and exchanged rings with Max, trying not to blubber like a toddler when the bride and groom shared their first kiss as man and wife.

When they faced the congregation, Lily looked at him and sent a silent reminder: “You’ll always be my best guy, Daddy…”

It put a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes, and Lamont tried to hide it by lifting his chin. But Lily saw and knowing what it meant, blew him a little kiss, the way she had since she was a toddler. And, as always, he pretended to catch it and tuck it into his pocket.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the pastor droned, “I give you Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell Sheridan.”

All in attendance stood and applauded, including Lamont—though his heart wasn’t in it. Because this was it. The end. Tonight, he’d go home to that big house, empty save the constant companionship of his ever-faithful mutt, Obnoxious.

An usher led Lily’s mother-in-law to the back of the church. Georgia looked gorgeous, more content than he’d ever seen her. And why wouldn’t she be, when Max had come home to Amarillo—this time to stay—and brought with him his formerly motherless little boy, Nate, and given her a daughter named Lily to love. Lamont supposed Georgia’s new husband deserved some of the credit, and it made him wonder—if his new son-in-law’s rough-around-the-edges mom could find a second chance at love, was there hope for him, too?

He took his place in the receiving line as the pastor’s wife locked him in a grandmotherly hug. “Beautiful ceremony.”

Behind her, his housekeeper, Peggy, said, “Beautiful bride!”

“Thanks,” he told them. “Good to see you.”

But not nearly as good as it was to see the pretty widow who owned the ranch next to his.

“Hey, good-lookin’,” Nadine said. “I declare, you’re more gorgeous than the groom.” She looked down the receiving line where Max stood smiling at Lily. “And that’s saying something!”

“You clean up pretty good, yourself.” An under-statement, he thought, admiring the knee-length azure sheath that accented her womanly curves and brought out the pale, glittering blue of her long-lashed eyes.