The Truth About Hope. Kate James

       CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

       CHAPTER NINETEEN

       CHAPTER TWENTY

       CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

       CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

       CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

       CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

       Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

      Canyon Creek, Texas August 2001

      “I AM NOT moving to San Jose!” Hope Wilson surged out of her chair and sent it toppling.

      Arthur Burrows raised a hand. “Calm down, please. I know this isn’t easy for you.”

      Hope leaned forward, bracing her hands on the lawyer’s desk. “Isn’t easy for me?” Her eyes stung and she felt the familiar tightening in her chest, but she refused to let the tears come. The anger somehow made her feel alive again. “My mother’s funeral was yesterday, now you tell me this, and you say it’s not easy?”

      “I know this is all very difficult. No one could’ve foreseen your mother passing away so suddenly. Why don’t you sit down?” he encouraged her. “Let’s finish going over your mother’s will.”

      Instead, Hope spun around and moved to the window. Outside, the brilliant sunshine filtered through the high canopy of ash and oak trees. Wicker baskets hung from decorative lampposts, their profusion of flowers spilling over in bold sweeps of color. People strolled along the wide, cobblestoned sidewalks of Center Street, as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

      How could everything look so normal when her life was over?

      “Hope, please sit down,” Arthur repeated.

      She was on the verge of another tirade but stopped herself. She couldn’t blame Mr. Burrows. He hadn’t caused her problems. He was her mother’s lawyer, and if anybody could help her find a way out of this predicament, it would be him. It certainly wouldn’t serve her purposes to antagonize him.

      She turned from the window and strode to the chair, righted it and flopped down. Continuing to fight a battle with her temper, she could almost hear her mother’s admonition about being polite and respectful. It made her want to cry again. “Sorry about the way I behaved just now,” she said in a subdued voice. “But I’m not moving to San Jose.”

      “Now, Hope.” Arthur sat back. “I’m afraid you don’t have much choice.”

      “But my mother wanted Aunt Clarissa to take care of me. You said it’s in her will.”

      “That’s true,” Arthur agreed patiently. “However, your father’s rights override your mother’s wishes in this case.”

      Hope’s fury began to simmer once more, but it was overshadowed by a debilitating sense of anguish and fear, of being alone. “You can’t make me leave Canyon Creek. I’m not a child anymore,” she cried, but suddenly felt very much like one. Even to her own ears she sounded like one. She blinked furiously to stave off the tears.

      “Look, Hope. I understand how upsetting this is for you, but you really don’t have a say in the matter. According to Texas law, at seventeen you’re still a minor. When I notified your father that Rebecca had passed away, his lawyer contacted me immediately. He was unequivocal about the fact that your father wants you to live with him.” Arthur’s voice turned conciliatory. “He’s your father. He’s family. Where better for you to be, with your mother gone?”

      “He is not my family!” Hope raised her eyes to the ceiling and took three deep breaths. “He stopped being my father when he walked out on Mom and me, when I was two. I don’t even remember him. Don’t make me go,” she pleaded. “Mom had some money saved, and I have our house. I can work part-time while I finish school.”

      “Hope, you don’t have to do that. Your father is a very wealthy man. Financially, he’s prepared to give you a lot more than the allowance your mother was receiving from him. He’s willing to take you in, pay for your education. You can’t imagine how hard that would be for you on your own, even if it was a possibility.”

      “What about what he did when he left? Closing down his business and hurting all the people who depended on those jobs? He and my mother grew up with the people who worked for him. What kind of man does that to his friends? How guilty do you think that’s always made me feel? And you want me to go live with a man like that?”

      “It’s not a matter of me wanting you to live with him. It’s what he wants.”

      Hope swiped a hand under her nose. “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here. Aunt Clarissa said she’d move to Canyon Creek to be with me. You’re a lawyer. Can’t you figure something out?” she beseeched. “Other kids my age are allowed to live on their own.”

      “It’s called emancipation and it’s rare. There has to be a reason for a court to grant that. I’m afraid there’s no compelling argument in your case. Take some time, Hope. Get used to the idea. I’m sure it’ll turn out just fine.”

      * * *

      LUKE CARTER PUSHED away from the bicycle rack he’d been leaning against as soon as Hope came out of the building. With his long strides, he was next to her almost instantly. “How did it go?”

      “Okay,” she mumbled, walking past him.

      “Hey. Hey!” He hurried after her and reached for her hand. “You don’t look like it went okay.”

      She yanked free and stuffed both hands in her pockets to keep Luke from grabbing one again. Her head bent, she moved forward at a brisk pace.

      “Hey!” He passed her and stopped directly in her path, grasping her shoulders. She kept her head lowered, her long mahogany hair hiding her face. Luke shook her gently and bent down to study her face. “It’s me. You can’t lie to me.”

      When Hope remained silent, he gave her another light shake. “It’s me,” he said again. “You can tell me anything.”

      On top of the pain and fear, Hope was now livid with herself. What was she doing, shutting him out? This was Luke. Her best friend since they were in grade school. Her boyfriend since last year. Luke had been there for her all her life. She knew firsthand how hard it was when people you cared about left you—as her father had and now in a different way her mother, too. How could she tell Luke that she was leaving Canyon Creek? That she was leaving him.

      Hope let out a ragged breath. Through lowered lashes, she studied Luke’s perfect face, the thick mop of chestnut-brown hair and those expressive gold-flecked amber eyes that made her think of a lion. How was she going to do it? How was she going to break the news to Luke, explain to all their friends that she was going to live with the man who’d caused so much harm to their town and to many of their families?

      She pulled one hand out of her pocket and placed it gently in the crook of Luke’s arm. “I just need a little time.” She saw the flicker of frustration on his face before compassion eclipsed it. He took a step back and to the side. “Yeah, okay. But remember I’m here. Whatever you need. We’ve always been there for each other.”

      “I know.” She rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I appreciate it.”

      Hope