Deep Down (Lockhart Brothers #1) (30 page)

I COULD HEAR IVY’S
footsteps as she walked down the open wooden staircase of the vacant downtown Lovely house we’d just toured. It was a gem–a renovated century old home with nearly four thousand square feet and five bedrooms. It sat on a nice piece of property and it was a bit of a Lovely landmark.

“It’s beautiful, I love it,” she said as she walked through the foyer. “But it’s awfully big—”

“I was hoping we could fill it up with some more kids,” I said. “Noah would make a great big brother. But first you’ll need to marry me. What do you say, Beauty?” I was standing in front of the fireplace in the great room, holding a blue Tiffany ring box.

I held my breath as she covered the space between us.

“Yes,” she said softly. “I say yes.”

Noah ran into the room as I was sliding the ring onto her finger.

“It’s shiny!” he cried.

“He’s already seen it,” I explained to Ivy. “We had a long talk about this.”

“Oh, you did, huh?”

“He accepted my proposal to be his Dad. Didn’t you, big guy?”

Noah threw his arms around my legs and I felt a swell of love in my heart. Ivy kissed me and then held her hand out to admire the ring.

“It’s spectacular,” she said.

I’d known the square-cut solitaire with sapphires on the sides was the one as soon as I saw it. The blue stones reminded me of Ivy’s eyes.

“I was thinking we could get married this summer,” I said, loving the way her hand looked with my ring on it.

“But that’s just a couple months away. Can we pull a wedding together so fast?”

“My mom’s a miracle worker with these kinds of things.”

“This summer, then.” She smiled and ruffled Noah’s hair. “Do you want this to be our new home, Noah?”

“Yeah!” he cried, breaking away from my legs and doing a lap around the room.

I pulled Ivy into my arms, marveling that I’d been lucky enough to find her and Noah. And, what’s more, lucky enough that they loved me, too.

Life was good. And I had a feeling it would only get better from here on out.

REED HOISTED NOAH UP
on his shoulders so Noah could set the star on top of the Christmas tree. There was a chorus of ‘aww’ and scattered applause as my son grinned down at us and plopped the star onto the tree.

“Yay!” he cried, throwing his arms in the air.

This was the second Christmas tree we’d decorated today. Reed had chopped both of them down in true lumberjack form, wearing the brown canvas coat I still appreciated seeing him in.

The other tree was sparkling in the front window of our home. This one adorned the front window of Grieves House, the venture I’d thrown my heart and soul into for the past few months.

We’d done all the smart things Reed had suggested when we got the money from Walter’s estate. Having investments and a college fund and trust for Noah helped my husband sleep at night, and I loved that about him.

It had been a thrill when we’d bought Gene’s new commercial range and grill, along with new ovens for the diner. He’d grinned for days after they were installed. We’d also had a new roof put on Margie and Gene’s house, as well as a sunroom. They were over the moon.

Once we’d taken care of those things, I approached Reed about an idea I’d been thinking about. I wanted to create a safe haven for pregnant teenagers who might not have anywhere else to go. It would be a safe place without judgment. We’d help them get prenatal care, learn how to take care of a baby, and help them get on their feet. From my own experience, I knew how much a young girl, pregnant and alone, needed love and support and encouragement.

With Margie and Gene’s blessing I’d quit my job at the diner to start Grieves House, and now I was living a dream. Every time a new girl arrived I knew I’d found my calling.

“When’s our new house mom arriving?” Reed asked as he lifted Noah from his shoulders, settling him on his hip. Noah gazed up at him happily.

“April’s planning on getting here the day after Christmas,” I said. “She’s got plans with her family for the holiday but she’s anxious to get here and start as soon as she can.”

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

I smiled as I thought about my friend, who’d pulled me up when I needed it most. She’d never felt truly settled in Seattle, and when I’d told her I was looking for a house mom to live at Grieves House, she’d jumped at the chance.

Everything had fallen into place. April was the last member of the new family I’d made for myself, and she was moving to Lovely. She was one of the few people I knew I could trust to help me run Grieves House. My father had pleaded guilty to sexual assault charges in a deal that kept him from prison but meant he’d never work as a police officer again. The prosecutor had approached me about it, and I’d told him I was satisfied. My father had admitted what he did and he wasn’t in a position to victimize anyone else through his job. I’d been surprised to get an apologetic email from Levi after the story hit the papers in Lexington. When I’d written back, I’d told him I had no hard feelings, which was true.

Over four years ago I’d been sure my faith in the goodness of people was gone forever. But I’d since learned that while not everyone was inherently good, there were other people whose goodness was so strong it outshone the bad. And I was grateful to be surrounded by that goodness.

Reed wrapped me in his free arm, still holding Noah with his other. I closed my eyes and took in the scents of his cologne and the sweet frosting from the Christmas cookies I’d decorated with Noah this morning. The scents that told me no matter where the three of us were standing right now, we were home.

Thank you so much for reading Deep Down. If you enjoyed it, I’d greatly appreciate a review at the site of the retailer you purchased it from.

I initially planned this story as a standalone, but my smart and supportive group of three early readers let me know I’d gotten it wrong. They wanted more of the Lockhart brothers, and when they each mentioned it, I got excited about the idea. I look forward to bringing you Mason Lockhart’s story next.

Brenda Rothert lives in Central Illinois with her husband and three sons. She was a daily print journalist for nine years, during which time she enjoyed writing a wide range of stories.

These days Brenda writes New Adult Romance in the Contemporary and Dystopian genres. She loves to hear from readers.

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This book is first and foremost dedicated to survivors. Whatever your struggle, you’re not alone. Don’t be afraid to reach out until you find the support you need. You’re worth it.

My village continues to grow, and I’m blessed beyond words to know every person who plays a role in my work, be it big or small. This book challenged me, and I needed more feedback than usual as I wrote it.

For helping me shape my open, I’d like to thank Christine Borgford, Carrie Jones, Pam Million, GP Ching, Stephanie Reid and Karla Sorensen. These women have my back and came to my rescue when I needed it most.

For reading and providing feedback on the entire book, thanks go to Denise Sprung, Janett Gomez, Michelle Tan and M.E. Carter. Their honesty and enthusiasm pushed me when the writing was hard. Thank you hardly seems enough for what they’ve all done for me.

Editor Valerie Gray partnered with me to bring this book to life. From concept to completion, she was there every step of the way. She didn’t just share my excitement, but also my frustration and anxiety over whether I could do this story justice. And her attention to detail is just scary good.

Christine Borgford of Perfectly Publishable is more than just a formatter. She came to the rescue when I needed her, encouraged me and listened to me when I needed it. And when it comes to formatting, she’s the best.

My assistant Pam Million is one in a . . . um, you see where I’m going with this, don’t you? She’s there through the ups and downs. A friend who gets your crazy and stays around is a friend indeed. Everyone should have a Pam in their life. But not my Pam. You’ll have to find your own. (Sorry.)

Speaking of awesome Pams, Pam Carrion has infused new life into my social media. Her energy and optimism make me smile every day.