A Mother to Love

An Unexpected Family

Angie Bursten wants to find love on her own timeline. Tired of her family’s interference, coworker Rick Jameson comes to the rescue—as her pretend boyfriend. Angie starts to spend time with Rick and his adorable daughter, Carly, and what began as a hoax soon feels all too real. Betrayed by the woman he’d married, single dad Rick is slow to trust. But seeing Angie with Carly, he can’t ignore the way he feels for his beautiful coworker. And when Angie helps Rick with the toughest battle of his life—gaining full custody of his child—there’ll be no more pretending. If they can open their hearts, Rick and Angie have a real shot at happily-ever-after.

Two days with Angie felt like a gift for him and Carly.

She made life fun and meaningful. And yet a flicker of concern tightened his chest. He had to be careful. He’d already feared her hesitation to plant today was because of something he’d said.

“If we’re finishing the planting tomorrow…” She paused and looked at Carly. “We might have time to go the park today.”

“The park? Really?” A gleeful giggle escaped Carly. “Can we, Daddy?”

“If we have time, why not?”

Carly jumped in place. “Why not?”

Angie gave him a wink, pleasure filling her face. She hurried down the row, selecting a few more perennials, and after he loaded her choices in the cart, he pushed it toward the cashier.

Many times, things he longed to know flew into his head, but those kinds of questions needed time. Instead he treaded lightly. A lifetime didn’t happen in a day. Angie clung to a private past she seemed unwilling to share. He could learn a lesson from her silence.

Already he’d revealed too much.

GAIL GAYMER MARTIN is a multi-award-winning novelist, writer of contemporary Christian fiction with fifty-five published novels and four million books sold. CBS News listed her among the four best writers in the Detroit area. Gail is a cofounder of American Christian Fiction Writers, is a keynote speaker at women’s events and presents workshops at writers’ conferences. She lives in Michigan. Visit her at gailgaymermartin.com. Write to her online or at PO Box 760063, Lathrup Village, MI, 48076.

A Mother

to Love

Gail Gaymer Martin

www.millsandboon.co.uk

May the God of hope fill you with all joy

and peace as you trust in Him,

so that you may overflow with hope

by the power of the Holy Spirit.

—Romans 15:13

Acknowledgments

Thanks to my friend Brenda Evans who made contact for me with Kimberly Springsdorf in Owosso, Michigan, the executive director of the Convention and Visitors Bureau. Kimberly gave us a tour of the city and showed us the highlights of the town as well as parks and residential areas so I could find the perfect street on which to set my story. She answered a volume of questions and was a valuable resource for my research for the Lilac Circle Series. Thank you so much, Kimberly. My thanks, too, to the lovely sales staff at Owosso Books, Janet O’Shea and Carla Bates, who spent time with us and answered my questions. Thanks also to numerous members of my Facebook group, Readers of Gail Gaymer Martin’s Books, for their support, ideas and wonderful reviews. A huge thank-you to my agent, Chip MacGregor. And as always my deepest thanks and love to my husband, Bob. Without his support and patience (especially that), I wouldn’t be the writer I am today.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Acknowledgments

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Angie’s Crock-Pot Fiesta Chicken

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Angie tripped over another box and suppressed a groan. Moving was the pits. She rubbed her shin and noticed another nick to her already bruised and scraped body. She couldn’t forget she’d still be looking at her piled-high boxes without the help of her coworker’s toting and lugging.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and she pulled away from her newest wound and planted a pleasant look on her face. “How are you doing?”

“I think that’s the last one.” Rick Jameson came through the archway, a faint grin on his lips, nice lips she’d noticed recently. If they weren’t such good friends, she could easily fall for him.

“You’re the greatest.” She opened her arms and headed toward him.

He stepped in and joined the friendly hug.

The flex of his strong arms beneath his T-shirt made her sigh just a little. She drew in a breath, bedazzled by the exotic scent of his aftershave. “What are you wearing?”

He drew back. “A T-shirt and jeans?”

His questioning look and response made her laugh. “I meant your aftershave.”

His expression melted into a grin. He shrugged. “Jungle something. Why?”

“I love it. Flowers and foliage after rain.” She arched her brow. “Good choice.”

She didn’t care what it was named. It smelled better than her cucumber melon moisturizer. She studied Rick’s expression, wrapped in his scent, and winced. She knew she looked horrible, dressed in rags with only a swipe of lipstick and a comb run through her hair. “I’m grateful for your help, Rick.”

“Anytime, Angie.” He tweaked her cheek and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Anything else?”

She eyed the stacks of boxes along with another million things she needed to do, but she couldn’t ask Rick for more help. She motioned to a stack. “I need to tackle these boxes myself. Most of it’s for—”

Her leg vibrated before her cell phone’s ringtone sounded. She drew it from her pocket and eyed the caller. “It’s my sister. I’ll call her back.”

He shook his head. “Answer. I can let myself out.”

She lifted a finger to stop him, wanting to enjoy his company just a little longer without using the time to work. She tapped the answer button and stepped into the kitchen. “Connie. Sorry, I’m busy. I have a man here helping me at the new house, and—”

“A man? What’s he like?” her sister asked.

Angie cringed, realizing her mistake. “A friend. That’s all.” She rolled her eyes. One more offer to fix her up on a blind date and she would scream.

“Nothing serious?”

“Connie, no.”

“Good, because I’ve found the perfect man. He’s single, good-looking, a bit quiet, but—”

Her internal scream took flight. “But I’m not interested. I’ve told you a hundred times. Two hundred times.” Before her sister said another word, she darted back to the living room doorway, her gaze on Rick. “Anyway, I’m seeing someone right now.” Her eyes locked with his.

“You are.” The decibels ripped through her eardrum. “What’s he like? Is he good-looking? You can’t leave me hanging.”

The thought of hanging sounded good at the moment—preferably Connie. “I have to go, sis. Talk later.” She hit the end-call button before her sister resisted further.

She exhaled. As she gazed at Rick, her imagination soared. She wished they were... Impossible. They were friends. “Sorry.” She looked at his inquisitive face, and her heart skipped. “Can I offer you a cup of coffee or something before you go?” She glanced over her shoulder at the boxes piled in her kitchen. “If I can locate the coffeemaker.”

He chuckled, a sound she loved to hear. His smile and laugh always made her happy. She waited, hoping he would stay.

Rick eyed the boxes and grinned at her. “How many hours will it take?”

She managed a feeble smile, her mind still clinging to her sort-of lie. “I need the distraction.” She beckoned him into the kitchen and headed for the boxes.

“Let me help.” His voice came through the doorway before he did.

Rick’s gaze followed her as she dug deep in a carton and, before she had a moment, he slipped the box from her hand while his eyes searched hers. She sensed he wanted to say something, yet couldn’t, and it left her confused.

Without direction from her, Rick located the pot and the individual brewing cups and popped them into the machine and added water. “Mugs?”

She waved her hand at the boxes. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

He shrugged and in a moment gave her a victorious look. “Voilà!” He held the mugs in his hand, then placed a cup on the coffeemaker and hit the brew button.

She loved seeing him appear comfortable making coffee and being domestic. “You surprise me.”

“Why?” He glanced over his shoulder, then grasped the mug and brought it to her.

The scent of coffee eased her tension. “You look experienced in the kitchen.”

“It’s that or starve.” He popped in another cup and turned back to her. “It’s one of those things single men with a child have to do.” He looked at her again before smiling and turning back to the coffeemaker.

His daughter hadn’t entered her mind. Though he’d mentioned Carly on occasion, Angie sensed he would rather not talk about his situation for some reason. “Coffee tastes good.”

He slipped onto a chair and set his drink on the table. “I hope you don’t mind my saying this, but the phone call seemed to upset you.” He glanced away. “Sorry. It’s none of my business.”

She flinched, facing the exaggeration she’d told her sister. “You’re perceptive.”

His brow arched, and he waited.

“To be honest...” And this time she would be. “I’m tired of my mother and sister trying to fix me up with blind dates. I want to scream when they come to me with some trumped-up idea of this wonderful single man who’s a bit quiet but he is very nice. Usually the guy’s main fun is bird-watching or reading. Nothing wrong with either hobby, but it doesn’t make dating them sound particularly enjoyable.”

Rick averted his eyes until a laugh burst from his chest. He gave her a one-shoulder shrug. “Are you telling me you’re not into the nice quiet bird-watcher type?” His words splintered through his chuckle.

Finally, Rick seemed like the man she knew at the office, and she needed the usual. She’d been thrown by the unexpected emotion that had arisen earlier. “Laugh all you want.” She found the image funny, until the crux of the issue struck her. “Today, to stop her, I sort of lied.”

“How does one sort of lie?” He gave her a crooked grin.

“You can’t. I’m not much of a churchgoer, but I know right from wrong, and I feel awful.” She pondered her comment.

“Explain. Now I’m curious.”

His expression took the edge off her guilt. “I told her I was seeing someone.”

“Seeing someone?” His face blanched and confused her. “Are you?”

She shook her head.

“Then it’s not a sort-of lie.”

“But I was seeing someone.” She motioned to the doorway. “I stood right there and looked at you. Get it? I was seeing—”

“Right.” He blinked before he added a disbelieving grin. “Got it...more than once actually.”

She gave him a poke. “You know the old saying about web of lies, right?”

Questions still hung in his eyes.

“Now my sister wants details. What he looks like, his interests, everything. Next she’ll want to meet him.” Her head spun with her concoction. “I have to tell her what I did.”

“But now she’ll give you a little peace. No more blind dates.”

A blast of air shot from her lungs. “You’re right. It was worth the exaggeration. That’s what it was, right? Not a lie.”

“Whatever you want to call it.” He arched a brow again and took a long swig of his coffee. “I should get going.” He stood. “But don’t forget, Ang. If you need help, I’m willing.” He gave her arm a shake. “I only have Carly on weekends. I hate the limited time with her, but that’s our agreement, and I avoid tension with her mother. It doesn’t help our relationship. For now I’m stuck with short visits.” He tilted his head with a half grin, but she noted sadness beneath it. “Guess that gives you a look into my life.”

“At least you’ve been married. Not me.” Her comment drew her back to unwanted places. “And you have your little girl. I know you love her more than anything. It shows.”

He responded with that proud-daddy nod. “You’re right. I cherish her. And you saw how it was when my marriage ended.”

“Three years ago. That’s how long we worked together.” She thought back. “Or was it more?”

“Four, I think. You came to the office when Carly was almost one. She’s turned five and goes to kindergarten.”

“Really?” The years had flown past since they’d first met.

Rick stepped toward the doorway and waved. “I need to be on my way, but remember what I said.”

“I will.” She followed him through the living room.

When she stepped onto the porch behind him, he turned and gave her a hug. “I hope the rest of your unpacking goes well.” He added another squeeze, stepped down to the sidewalk and headed to his SUV in the driveway without looking back.

Her chest pressed against her lungs as she watched the SUV back out to the street. She still felt his strong arms around her. After she gave a final wave, she drew her gaze from his car and stepped toward the door feeling as if she’d lost something precious.

Pulling her mind back to her empty reality, she noticed a woman heading toward her from across the street.

Her curiosity rose as the neighbor stepped onto the sidewalk and strode up her driveway toward her with a grin. Angie smiled back, guessing the woman wanted to be the first to meet the new neighbor.

“Hi.” A container in one hand, the woman extended the other. “I’m your neighbor Rema.”

She grasped the woman’s hand. “Angela Bursten. It’s nice to meet you.” Her greeting stretched the truth again.

“Welcome to Lilac Circle.” Rema released her hand and motioned toward the driveway. “Sorry I missed your husband. I look forward to meeting him.”

“Husband?” Heat rose up her chest as she understood Rema’s reference.

“I noticed him pulling away as I started across the street.” Rema eyed her and grimaced. “I assumed he was your husband.”

Angie drew back, managing a chuckle. “No. He’s a coworker who volunteered to tote some boxes for me. No husband here.” The admission left an unwelcome reminder, yet Rick’s smile hung in her thoughts.

A questioning look flashed across Rema’s face, and Angie recalled Rick’s hug on the porch. A sigh slipped from her. She didn’t owe her an explanation and didn’t have one. Warmth spread through her, and she recalled the wonderful sensation.

Rema gave her a sympathetic look.

“Speaking of boxes, I have them stacked all over inside, otherwise I’d...” Her discomfort grew as she sought an amiable goodbye. “But I appreciate your welcome, and—”

“I understand.” Rema extended the container. “I brought you a little welcome gift. Homemade.”

Angie’s heart sank. Now she was on the spot. “That was very thoughtful.” As she pulled the container closer, a sweet scent wrapped around her. “And it smells delicious.” She glanced over her shoulder at the mess. “Rema, if you don’t mind falling over boxes, you’re welcome to come in.” She opened the screen door, motioning the other woman inside.

Without hesitation, Rema slipped past and stood inside the doorway.

“Have a seat, Rema.” She motioned to the living room.

Rema moved into the living room, and Angie placed the housewarming gift on a lamp table before also taking a seat, knowing what she should do but unable to deal with it today. Angie eyed the woman, trying to think of something to say, but Rema saved her from worry.

“Did you notice the house for sale on the corner?” Rema gestured to the head of the street. “We’ll be having another new neighbor soon.”

“No. Sorry, I hadn’t noticed.”

“A number of people have looked at the house. Spring seems a good time to sell.” Rema gazed into space as if she had something on her mind, and though uneasy, Angie waited before trying to end their conversation and the visit.

As if awakening, Rema patted her lips with a napkin while curiosity grew in her eyes. “So why aren’t you married?” Her brow fluttered to an arch before lowering. “Divorced? Or are you widowed?”

Startled, Angie organized her thoughts. She could have said she was never asked, but that wasn’t something to share with a stranger. No matter, she still had hopes. Serious hopes but... She dropped the thought and shrugged. “I never got around to it, I guess.”

“I’m surprised. You’re very pretty.” Rema’s admiring gaze shifted to the window as a scowl rose on her face. “But you’ve made a wise decision.”

Angie waited for the punch line, but Rema’s expression underlined her seriousness. Not wanting to broach the sensitive topic, she manipulated the conversation back to Owosso. “Tell me about the town. I’ve seen a few of the lovely old buildings almost set back in time, and I spotted the Curwood Castle. It’s a historic town, I know, but what else is interesting?”

Rema’s face brightened, but then Angie realized she might have opened Pandora’s box when she needed to finish unpacking. She waved her words away. “I’m sorry, but why don’t we save this for another time? I’m sure you have things to do, and I need to get to work.” She rose and stacked the dishes. “Thanks so much for coming. And thanks for this wonderful treat. I’m sure it’s as delicious as it smells.”

Rema took her unsubtle hint and rose. “You’re welcome. It’s nice to have a new neighbor so close. The last person living here was a crotchety old man who sat outside giving everyone the evil eye. You’re a welcome relief.”

“Th-thank you, Rema. Hopefully we’ll have another friendly neighbor in the house for sale down the street.”

“I hope so.” She put her hand on the doorknob. “I’m sure we’ll be best friends soon enough.”

Angie didn’t know what to say, and when Rema stepped outside, Angie closed the door and caught her breath. She wanted to be neighborly without coffee klatches or hanging over the fence. She preferred being with her friends, people who meant something to her.

Rick’s image filled her mind. Their friendship had blossomed without effort. If not for her lack of confidence in relationships, she might have given thought to him as more than a friend a couple of years earlier. Lately her feelings had strengthened even more since they’d been spending more time together outside work.

The images flying into her mind throughout the day had got out of hand. She’d never known a man so thoughtful and caring. Although they were friends, he treated her like someone significant in his life. He made her feel like a woman and not a commodity. Yet her hope fell flat when she thought about the corporation where they worked. The company didn’t tolerate employee romances. She tried to forget the work awaiting her. She pulled back her shoulders and forced herself to head for the boxes. If nothing more, they would be a distraction. She hoped.

* * *

Rick folded the completed file and slid it into his desk drawer before turning off his computer. The clock hadn’t alerted him of the time, but his stomach had. He rose and rolled his chair under the desk, his hunger guiding him to the company lunchroom. Although restaurants were nearby, he usually brought a lunch, finding it more economical.

As he entered he grinned to find Angie already seated. He’d learned that her stomach and his were often in sync. That wasn’t the only way they were in sync, either. He faced that more and more. She’d grown as a friend and even more as someone he wanted to be with. So often she remained in his thoughts, and he liked thinking about her.

She gave him a wave as he headed to the refrigerator. With his lunch bag in hand, he settled beside her at the table, noting her sandwich of meat rolled in a lettuce leaf and a delicious-looking muffin that dripped with icing. The incongruity made him chuckle.

“What’s funny?” She grinned at her lettuce wrap and muffin as her eyebrow arched. “A welcome-to-Lilac-Circle gift from a neighbor. I can’t let them go to waste.” She tilted her head toward the refrigerator. “And if you don’t think it’s too hysterical, you might enjoy the one I brought you.”

This time his brows lifted. “You did?”

She smirked. “You know I did.”

He hurried back to the fridge and found the muffin in a lunch bag with his name on it. He was touched that she’d also thought of him.

With the treasure in hand he settled beside her and sipped from a juice box from his lunch bag. “I know. I was desperate.” He held up the container. “It’s Carly’s, but I’ll have another supply in the house before this weekend.”

“You’re a good dad, Rick.” She took the last bite of her lettuce wrap, her focus shifting toward the muffin. “I think I’ll get a coffee.”

She slid back the chair and headed around the corner to the counter that held the coffee urn. As she hurried away, he admired her. He understood how she stayed trim. She lived like a rabbit, eating veggies and lettuce sandwiches. The occasional sweet treat was rare for Angie.

The odor of strong coffee surrounded him before she set it on the table and sat back down. “Smells like that stuff was left over from yesterday.”

She took a careful sip, and her nose wrinkled. “The day before, I suspect.”

They both grinned while she pulled the wrapper off the muffin. He bit into his sandwich, watching her take a bite of the luscious-looking treat. “That’s from a neighbor?”

She nodded, taking a moment to swallow. “Rema, to be exact. It was very sweet of her on one hand, but not convenient.” She lowered her head and brushed away her comment. “Anyway, the muffins are delicious.” She swiped a bit of icing from the edge. “You may have seen her as you pulled away.”

He shook his head, recalling he’d seen only Angie standing on the porch, her eyes on him.

“The problem was the piles of boxes, and the house was a mess. And she was a bit odd.”

“Odd? In what way?” Because Angie was so rarely judgmental, her comment surprised him.

“She was pleasant enough but seemed sort of sad. More like depressed.” Angie’s face sank to concern.

He wanted to cheer her. “Some people are sadder than others.”

“And blunt.”

His grin grew. “Sometimes you’re—”

“No, I’m not.” She gave him a coy look. “Maybe a bit, but not like this. She asked me why I wasn’t married.”

He drew back, agreeing it was a very personal question. “How did she know you weren’t married?” He glanced at her finger, aware she’d never worn a ring as long as he’d known her.

An uneasy expression slipped across her face. “She thought you were my husband.”

“Why would she think that?”

She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “We hugged on the porch, I guess. But from her other comment, I still wonder.”

“Huh?” She’d stumped him, though he did recall her hug. He admired Angie’s open affection, so different from Glenda’s. She’d become cool after they’d married, and he’d never understood why.

“When I told her I wasn’t married, she said I probably made a good decision.” Her eyes widened. “Don’t you think that’s odd to tell a stranger?”

He did, but he sought an explanation. “I suppose it’s not if she’s divorced or in a bad marriage.”

“You’re right.” She thought a moment. “Anyway, I didn’t pursue the conversation.”