Whenever You Come Around by Robin Lee Hatcher

Author:Robin Lee Hatcher
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2015-01-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

How does a woman know she’s in love?

Charity wrote in her plot journal four days later.

Is it just an emotion? Or is it something more, something deeper, than that? How can anyone be sure they have met the one? Is there just one? What does my heroine believe about it? Moon. June. Swoon.

She stopped writing and stared off into space. Was she even working on her characters or plot now? Or was she writing about herself?

What do I believe about love?

Charity hadn’t ever been in love. Not really.

In high school, there’d been a secret crush on Buck. Not love. Hormones.

In college, after the experience with Jon, after she lost the baby, she’d returned to the party scene, this time as a place to forget. Although alcohol was always around, she’d never allowed herself to become drunk. She’d feared that loss of control ever happening again. She’d gone out with different boys, hoping for love but fearing any intimacies. Even holding hands had made her want to flee. And above all else, she’d never let any of them see the real Charity.

Many years later, after many men, many dates, many close calls, there had been Nathan. Fun-loving, successful, live-life-to-the-fullest Nathan. She’d wanted to love him, tried to love him.

Again she wrote, not caring that it was no longer about her novel.

Maybe something’s wrong with me. Am I incapable of loving someone in that deep way? The way Mom and Dad love each other. The way Terri and Rick or Sara and Ken love each other. And am I unlovable too?

She stopped again and closed her eyes. She rolled the questions around, looking at them with what she hoped was an unbiased perspective. “I’m not unlovable,” she determined after a lengthy stillness. “And I’m not incapable. I can love someone. Really love someone. But it must be someone who loves me too.”

She thought about the romance novels she’d been reading in order to understand the genre better. Then she thought about the story she was writing, about the roadblocks to love she’d thrown up in the paths of her hero and heroine. And then she realized how very much she wanted the characters to fall in love and find their future together. Not simply to satisfy readers. She wanted it to happen to satisfy herself. She needed to see it happen in the pages of her story. She wanted to believe in it. Believe in it way down deep inside.

Through the kitchen window—open to a lovely morning breeze—she heard Cocoa bark a greeting, followed a moment later by the deeper rumble of a man’s voice. Not close enough to hear the precise words but close enough to know it was Buck who spoke to the dog. Unable to stop herself—not even wanting to stop—she left the leather-bound journal and gel pen on the table, got up from the chair, and walked to the back door, stopping on the stoop.

Buck was leaning over the fence to stroke and scratch Cocoa, who sat in the grass before him.

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