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  He straightened. “Darn right it is. Quote me on your show sometime—‘Wise words from Hope’s father.’” He held his hands in front of him as if displaying the headline.

  She grinned and rested her chin on her fist. “You should start your own show. You’ve got enough wisdom to fill plenty of episodes.”

  His eyes twinkled. “Now you’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll let you have the cinnamon sugar bagel.”

  She laughed. “I did have my eye on that one.” He handed her the bagel and they ate in companionable silence for a few minutes while she tried not to think about Owen. “What’s on the agenda for today?” she asked in an effort to distract her thoughts.

  “I’m taking Yankee for a walk on the beach, and then I’m meeting my friend Bill for a round of golf. How about you?”

  “This morning I’m practicing Vinyasa yoga; then I need to answer some emails, get groceries, clean the bathroom.” She shrugged. “Nothing too exciting.”

  He wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood. “Sounds like it will be a great day. I’ll leave you to it.”

  “Thanks for breakfast, Dad. Be sure to scratch Yankee’s tummy for me.” Yankee was her mom’s dog, and her dad doted on him like a child.

  “Will do. He’ll be excited to see you on Christmas Eve.” He opened the door and then paused, turning to her. “Just remember what I said—a good conversation never hurt anyone.”

  She folded her arms. Emily had definitely put him up to this. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He waved a hand and closed the door behind him.

  Hope sighed and put the juice in the fridge before making her way back to her studio, forcing her thoughts to return to yoga. She’d been studying Vinyasa and wanted to practice some of the moves before filming on the beach with Emily. She turned on the music and worked through the poses, finding she really enjoyed the flowing movement.

  Maybe Owen would have liked this type of yoga better. She swatted the thought away and tried to maintain focus, but she couldn’t find her center. Her dad was right. Everything had been off since Colorado. Everything she taught—all the positive words and motivation she tried to give her viewers—now felt flat and meaningless. How could she spout off about peace when her own heart was filled with turmoil?

  She groaned in frustration and lay down on her mat, letting her arms and legs fall to the side in Corpse Pose. She grimaced at the irony of the name. She felt like a corpse. An empty shell. She’d dated lots of guys in the past, but she’d never been so affected by a breakup before—not even with Nathan. Why was Owen different? She’d only known him a few days, and he hadn’t technically been her boyfriend for more than a few minutes, so it hardly even counted as a breakup. Letting go of him shouldn’t be so hard.

  Hope rolled over, sliding back onto her heels and stretching her arms out in Child’s Pose. She worked on her breathing as she sought to pinpoint the source of her frustration. What was it about Owen that was causing so much pain? She felt like she’d failed him in treating his PTSD with yoga. That was one. But Hope knew yoga wasn’t for everyone, and she couldn’t blame herself for his problems. She exhaled and stretched into Cobra.

  She hated thinking he might be involved with someone else. That was two. But he’d told her it wasn’t what she thought, and she hadn’t been willing to hear the rest. She’d been too scared of a Nathan repeat to listen to what he had to say. She shook her head in frustration. Yes, it hurt to think of Owen with another girl. Hurt a lot. But that still wasn’t the main source of her conflict.

  On the next exhale, she began a series of Cat/Cow poses, closing her eyes to focus her thoughts. After a few deep breaths and stretches, she was able to get to the heart of it: she’d fallen for Owen. More than that—she’d fallen in love with him. The realization made her gasp and open her eyes. When it happened, she wasn’t sure. But she was definitely in love with him. And she had to tell him. There would never be closure until she did, just like Emily had said.

  Hope reached for her phone, ready to pull up Owen’s number, before stopping herself. What was she going to do? Call him right then and there and declare her love? Maybe that’s what her dad would recommend, but she couldn’t do it. She bit her lip. What if he really was in a relationship? What if he didn’t have feelings for her? Or worse still, what if he didn’t pick up at all?

  She shook her head, brushing away the doubts. He’d told her he wanted to see her after their trip. The way he felt about her had been clear in his eyes. A person could say a lot of things, but the eyes never lied. Not to mention his kiss. The emotion behind his kisses left no room for doubt. There was something there, and Hope was determined to tell him how she felt and ask why they couldn’t pursue it. But she needed to do it in person.

  She pulled up her Mindful Mornings emails and swiped until she found the one she was looking for: the email from Beverly Davis. She took a deep breath, her finger hovering over the screen. She could do this. She was going to leave her comfort zone and do something risky.

  She blew out the breath, opened the email, and hit “reply.”

  Chapter 33

  Owen carried a small bundle of firewood into the living room, careful not to disturb the Christmas tree as he made his way to the fireplace. His mom was in a flurry now that it was only a few days until Christmas, and she’d kept him busy all morning. But he was grateful for the distraction.

  Yesterday had marked the year anniversary since Eli’s death, and it had been a hard day. He’d spent sunup to sundown stacking hay bales with his dad, trying to outrun the past by working his body to the bone. But the thing that bothered him the most was the fact that it wasn’t Eli’s memory that haunted him. It was Hope’s.

  He arranged the logs in the fireplace, which would be lit on Christmas Eve, trying not to think about sitting by the fire with Hope at the lodge. Everything reminded him of her. It was driving him crazy. He looked over his shoulder to where his mom was working in the nearby kitchen. “I don’t know why we use this thing. It’s sixty-nine degrees outside.”

  “Because it’s tradition. Who wants Christmas Eve without a nice fire going in the fireplace?”

  “Christmas Eve is a week away.”

  She raised an eyebrow but didn’t take her eyes off the bowl she was stirring. “You know how I like to be prepared. There’s a lot to do to get ready for a group like we’re hosting, and I’m tired of the last-minute rush.”

  He shook his head. “That’s fine, but I still don’t think we need the fire. We’ll have to open a window to avoid overheating.” He stood, dusting off his hands and standing.

  She pointed a sauce-covered spoon at him from behind the oversized granite island. “It’ll be perfect after our midnight ride. Now quit your bellyaching and come tell me if I put enough heat in this sauce.”

  He rolled his eyes, fighting a smile as he walked into the kitchen. She watched closely as he lifted the spoon to his mouth for a quick taste. “Mmm, that’s just right. What’s it for?”

  She beamed. “It’s a new recipe I found on a cooking show this morning. It will go over spare ribs, so I’m glad you like it.”

  He nodded, his mind instantly turning to Hope at the mention of a show. If his mom knew he’d secretly been watching Hope’s videos and practicing yoga in his room, she’d hit the ceiling. He’d watched the first episode, telling himself it didn’t do any harm. But then he’d proceeded to watch more of them whenever he found time, eventually giving in and practicing yoga poses along with Hope. He felt connected to her that way, and as much as he wanted to deny it, he was beginning to like it.

  But watching her show made it more impossible than ever to get her out of his head. He’d even come close to calling her once, but he’d left his phone at the house on purpose and went for a long ride on Bandit until he talked himself out of it.

  “Did you hear that?” his mom asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

  “Hear what?”

  “Someone’s knocking on the fron
t door. Go see who it is.”

  He cocked his head to the side. Her tone was a touch higher than normal, and the mischievous glint in her eyes said she was up to something. Owen had a sneaking suspicion that whatever it was, it had to do with him.

  “Well, what are you waitin’ for?” she asked, her face strained with impatience. “Go on!” She shooed him with a dish towel.

  “All right, all right.” He held up his hands, dodging the towel. “Where’s Cody, anyway? You need someone else to boss around besides me.”

  She scoffed and waved her hand, gesturing for him to move.

  There was another knock, and he half jogged down the hall and around the corner to the entrance, pulling open the door. His eyes widened slightly when he saw who was standing there. “Sandra.” He blinked, taking a moment to process the unexpected visit before opening the door wider. “Come in. How’re you doing?”

  Sandra gave him a dazzling smile; her brown hair longer than it was last time he’d seen her. She stepped forward and gave him a hug. “It’s so good to see you, Owen.” Her fruity perfume half choked him as she pulled him closer.

  He patted her back once and pulled away, creating distance. “It’s good to see you too.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced down the hall, hoping his mom would come to the rescue.

  Sandra continued smiling as she gazed into the front room. “And just look at that Christmas tree. Your mom sure knows how to decorate for the holidays. I stopped by last year when you were gone to help her decorate, and we had the best time together.”

  He shifted his weight to the other side. “Yeah, I think I remember you emailing me about that.”

  She met his eyes and took a step closer. “Really? You know, I saved all of your emails. I was so excited to get each one.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “It was like Christmas each time a new message came, and now here we are, able to talk face-to-face—anytime we want.” She trailed a finger up his chest, her face tipped up to his, leaning closer until she was just a breath away.

  Owen’s forehead broke out in a sweat. He cleared his throat and was about to step back when movement through the open door behind her caught his eye. He looked over Sandra’s shoulder and saw Hope standing in the walkway outside. She stood frozen with a look of anguish on her face before she turned and ran back to the taxi behind her.

  “Hope!” he yelled, but she didn’t look back. He stepped away from Sandra and ran outside, but the taxi tore off down the long drive and out of sight.

  Owen’s mind raced a thousand miles an hour as he sprinted toward the open garage to his truck. What was she doing here? He grabbed the keys from the visor and jammed them into the ignition. The diesel engine roared to life. He looked over his shoulder and backed out.

  “Owen, wait!” Sandra’s face twisted as she ran toward him.

  He rolled down the window, his heart pounding with every second he was losing. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

  Sandra crossed her arms. “Why? Who was that?”

  “I’ve gotta go,” he repeated. He glanced up to see his mom running from the house but didn’t take time to talk to her as he peeled out of the drive. If Hope’s cab reached the main road before he got there, he wouldn’t know which way to go to follow her. He stomped down on the gas, his heart still trying to make sense of the shock. What was she doing here? Why hadn’t she told him she was coming? How could the timing have played out like that?

  He took a left at the end of their property and cursed. The road that met with the main highway was empty.

  Hope was gone.

  Owen pulled off to the side of the road and grabbed his phone out of his pocket. He dialed Hope’s number and put the phone to his ear. After four rings, he knew she wasn’t going to answer. It went to voicemail, and he left a message.

  “Hope, it’s me. I didn’t know you were coming.” He pressed a fist to his temple, feeling helpless. “Please come back and talk. What you saw …” His voice trailed off and he bit the inside of his cheek. “It was a misunderstanding, okay? Just please call me back.”

  He ended the call and clutched his phone, willing it to ring. After several more minutes passed, his heart sank and he turned the truck around, heading for home. When he reached the driveway, his mom and Sandra were standing in front of the house, both of them looking upset. He pulled into the garage and parked the truck, one ear trained on his phone as he made his way outside. His mom rushed toward him, but Sandra remained at the house.

  “Owen, what happened?” his mom asked, her voice tight with concern. “Don’t tell me it was Hope who took off in that taxi.”

  His stomach twisted in knots as he studied her. “You knew she was coming?”

  Her face crumpled. “Yes. She was going to surprise you. I had no idea Sandra would show up. Why did Hope run away like that?”

  “I can’t believe this.” He ran both hands through his hair. “She came walking up at exactly the wrong moment. It looked like Sandra and I—” He shook his head in disgust, not bothering to finish. “Where do you think she’s going? Do you have her flight information?”

  Beverly frowned. “I don’t even know which airport she was coming from. She only told me when she would be arriving here. That’s why I asked you to help with the firewood and was so eager to have you answer the door.” Her forehead wrinkled. “I never expected this.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder, taking a calming breath the way Hope taught him. “It’s okay, Mom. It’s not your fault. I appreciate what you were trying to do.”

  “Hey, is everything alright?” Sandra called from the front porch.

  They both turned and looked at her. Owen clenched his jaw. He wanted to jump back in his truck and search for Hope, but without knowing where she was, it was no use. The only thing he could do was wait and see if she would call him back.

  “What are you going to do?” his mom whispered, glancing toward the house.

  “Something I should have done a long time ago.”

  She tipped her head in question.

  He straightened his shoulders and sighed. “I’m going to face my problems head-on.”

  Chapter 34

  “Are you okay, miss?” the taxi driver asked.

  Hope wiped a tear from her face. “Yes. I’m fine. Just take me back to the airport as quickly as possible, please.” She’d bought a one-way ticket to Texas, not knowing what to expect when she met with Owen or how long she would stay. She certainly hadn’t expected a beautiful brunette hanging on him. She’d almost seen them kiss. She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to banish the image, causing a few more tears to fall. She brushed them aside and swallowed hard.

  She was a world-class fool. She’d taken Owen’s advice and done something risky, something that forced her outside of her comfort zone. And where had it gotten her? Rushing out here to declare her love to a man she barely knew. Why hadn’t Beverly told her Owen was in a relationship? She shook her head. Probably because Hope hadn’t made it clear why she wanted to come. Thinking back on the emails, she’d made it sound like she wanted to stop by for a friendly visit. Of course Beverly would welcome her with open arms. She rubbed her forehead. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

  Her phone rang and she snatched it. Owen’s number displayed on the screen. She groaned and tossed the phone into her purse. She couldn’t talk to him. She was mortified beyond belief. How had she ever thought this would be a good idea? But at least one thing was sure—she’d found her closure. Owen was off the market, end of story.

  There was no more need to pine away for a man she couldn’t have. True, seeing him again had brought back a rush of feelings and emotions. Hearing him call her name ... she winced and forced the thought aside. It was all a huge mistake. But, she reminded herself, every mistake presented a learning opportunity. She took a shaky breath and wrapped her arms around her waist, wishing she could believe her own advice.

  Chapter 35

  Owen walked back toward the house to Sandra, dreading what
was sure to be a difficult conversation. She arched an eyebrow at him. “Who was that?”

  He ignored the question, preferring to get straight to the point. “Sandy, can we talk somewhere?”

  Her face softened. “You haven’t called me that in a long time. I miss it.”

  Owen heaved an internal sigh. That wasn’t the direction he meant to take. “How about we walk out back for a bit?”

  “Sure.” She threaded her arm through his and they made their way along the house toward the backyard. Sandra looked over her shoulder at Beverly, who was walking toward the front door, her head bent over her cell phone. “It’s so good to see you again, Beverly,” she called.

  Beverly waved, though her smile wasn’t as bright as usual. Owen wanted to be mad at his mom for not telling him about Hope, but he knew how much she loved surprises. And it would have been a good surprise. A great one. He imagined what the greeting would have looked like if Sandra hadn’t shown up at exactly the wrong moment. But it wasn’t her fault. It was no one’s fault but his own for trying to run from his feelings.

  Sandra squeezed his arm. “You’re being awfully quiet. I thought you wanted to talk.”

  He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the sting that Hope still hadn’t called him back. He had to focus on what needed to be said. When they reached the back patio, he dropped Sandra’s arm, facing her. “Look, Sandra, I appreciate that you came out here to say hello.” He squinted, taking a breath and deciding to be blunt. “But the truth is, I think it would be best for both of us to let our goodbyes be goodbyes.”

  She crossed her arms and shifted, her eyes turning hard. “Is it because of her?”

  The question hit him like an arrow in the chest, the truth no longer willing to be hidden. “Yes,” he said, holding her gaze. It was because of Hope. He couldn’t have feelings for Sandra or any other girl now. It would always be Hope.