Lisa (Beach Brides Book 6) Read online

  Her week ahead stretched for miles in front of her, even though she’d only be with her son in the evening after work. She’d spend her lunch break making calls to the counselor for a referral for someone to help. She had to find a way to help him release his anger in a safe way before someone got seriously hurt.

  ****

  Chase Bowman tossed another bale of hay onto his flatbed truck. The weather had been unusually cold and his supply was getting low. With more snow on the ground than in past winters, there was nothing for his cattle to eat other than the hay he threw down daily, but they were fat and healthy, which was all he could ask. “That’s it for here. Let’s take the rest to the southwest corner in case any strays are down there.”

  “Sounds good.” Matt Frost, his best friend and ranch hand, climbed into the truck.

  The quarter-mile ride was spent in silence, but as soon as they exited the warm cab, Matt started in on his current obsession. “Have you written her?”

  Slanting him a grimace, Chase simply said, “No.”

  “How long have you had that bottle? Six months? A year?”

  He knew exactly how long it had been since he found the bottle in the sand when he and Dad had gone fishing for the last time off Matagorda Bay. Three weeks after they’d returned to the ranch, Dad lost his battle with cancer. That was exactly five months, two weeks and three days ago.

  Chase would have never imagined how sharply he’d feel his father’s loss. The days of the two of them riding the land were long gone, but sitting across the table from an empty chair sucked. Mom was quieter now, still deep in her grieving. The house had a pallor, which he was all too happy to escape each morning.

  “Ten years from now the answer will be the same. No, I haven’t emailed her. She’s probably a scammer, some guy planning to ask for money to come to America. I’m not wasting my time.”

  “Then why do you still have the bottle?”

  Shoot, he needed to toss that thing. He wouldn’t even have the bottle if it weren’t for Dad. Now it was a memento of their final vacation together. It had sat on the windowsill in the tack room, forgotten, until Matt noticed it and read the letter. “I guess I was too lazy to recycle it.”

  “Uh-huh. You put the letter back inside, I noticed. You’re planning to get in touch. You should. You could use some female company.”

  “Email isn’t company, and didn’t cyber-sex go out in the nineties?” After tossing the last bale, Chase took off his gloves and tucked them part way into his pocket. “It ain’t happening, Matt. You’re wasting your time.”

  He had no valid reason for hanging onto the message in the bottle. Still, something in the short note drew him to the woman who wrote it. She allowed herself to dream, but recognized them for what they were. Fiction. She appreciated her life as it was, just like he did. What could it hurt to write her? Winter nights were long and he could use a distraction from TV. He didn’t believe in fairy tales, either, but it’d be a kick to see what response he got.

  What the heck…might as well do it.

  ****

  After finishing the weekly accounting paperwork, Chase stared at the blank email on the computer monitor. This had to be one of his stupider ideas. He was likely to take as long composing the letter as he had getting to this point.

  Taking a cue from her message, he began.

  Dear Hopeful,

  Geez, that sounded like a reply to a personals ad. But what else could he call her?

  First let me say my horse is black, not white, and I don’t have armor.

  Mom insisted he hid his heart behind an armor shield, but that was an exaggeration.

  Your message intrigues me. You sound as happy as you say you are, so why did you write a letter like this? I guess it’s the same reason as mine—curiosity.

  Since you took the time to toss a bottle into the ocean and you included an email address, I guess you’re wondering where it ended up. I found it in the Gulf of Mexico and brought it home to central California. If we were speaking in person, I’d ask where you threw it. Then we might talk about where we live, or whether we were on vacation or walking a beach near home. After a brief, polite conversation we’d part ways and go on with our lives, taking a bit of fairy tale magic with us.

  But since we’re communicating electronically, we can skip all that and get back to the daily grind. I hope your day went well, and your life continues to be happy. As a dreamer and a realist, I have a feeling you’ll make sure it is.

  SirGalahad@...

  *** End of Excerpt ***

  Hope

  Beach Brides Series

  By

  Aileen Fish

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