Sunflowers and Second Chances releases today!
Nashville marketing whiz Lila Harper has six weeks, one sunflower field, and a contact list full of favors to call in. The plan is simple: throw a Friday-night concert, save her grandmother Mae’s farm from the developers circling it, and be back in the city before the leaves turn. The complication is Jake Bradford — her high school sweetheart, grown now and running the dairy farm across the bottomland, standing exactly where he stood the day she drove away. A heartwarming second-chance romance about family, coming home,
Get your copy here: https://link.amazon/B07xT4VYt
Here’s chapter 1:
Lila Harper steered the new signing through the rooftop crowd with one hand at the girl’s back and the other holding a champagne flute she had not touched.
The city glittered below them, restless and bright. Drinks flowed freely and people laughed too loud. Cassidy Park, the new launch, tried very hard to look like she belonged.
“Two more pictures,” Lila said, easing the girl forward. “Then we hand you off to the radio guy. Then you breathe.”
“I’m breathing.”
“You’re holding it. Different thing entirely.”
Cassidy laughed, and her shoulders came down a half inch. Lila kept her hand at the small of the girl’s back and aimed her at the photographer, who had been waiting forty-five minutes for a clean shot and was about to abandon his post for a third drink.
“Smile like you’ve already won,” Lila said.
“I haven’t.”
“Tonight you have. That’s the whole job.”
Cassidy smiled. The flash went off twice, and the photographer signaled across the crowd that he was satisfied for once. Katy caught Lila’s eye from the far side of the rooftop and gave her the half-nod that meant good, keep going.
Lila kept going. The label held a launch every six weeks, sometimes more often. Her weeks ran on a rhythm she could set a watch by. Marketing director was a job description that fit on a business card. The job itself entailed holding a hundred details and never dropping the champagne.
She handed Cassidy off to the radio guy with a quiet word of warning about which questions the girl might freeze on, and stepped back to scan for the next person who needed her hand at a back.
A man from the promotions desk waved her over. He had the look of somebody about to ask for something he wasn’t sure he could ask for, and Lila reached him before he was ready, which was the simplest method.
“Tell me,” she said.
“Cassidy on a Tuesday morning at six? With Casey? Because Casey owes me, and I want to use it on her before she remembers.”
“Tuesday at six. Done.”
“You don’t have to ask Katy?”
“I just did. You watched me. She nodded. Tuesday at six.”
He laughed, clearly relieved. “Bless you, Harper.”
“Don’t bless me yet. The girl’ll need coffee and somebody to walk her into the studio.”
She turned back into the crowd, and the angle of a denim jacket she had not stopped recognizing caught at the corner of her eye. Cole Banks stood at the far rail with his elbow on the marble and a beer in his hand, talking to a redhead Lila did not know. He had not looked over yet, and she did not let him.
There had been a night two years ago when she had finally finished a fight with him without raising her voice, and she had walked out of his apartment and decided in that minute to never raise her voice for him again. She had nearly kept the promise.
She crossed away from the rail and put a high-top between herself and his sightline.
Lila set the untouched flute on a nearby high-top and checked her phone out of habit. Then she scanned the crowd for the next person who needed something.
“You look like a girl who could use a drink,” Katy said at her elbow. She set a glass of red wine in front of Lila with a small ceremony.
“Not while I’m working.”
“It’s a launch, Lila. You can drink at your own launches.” Katy lifted her perfectly frosted hair off her neck in deference to the Nashville July heat.
“I don’t drink at the ones with this many phones in the room.”
Katy snorted. “You drink at none of them.” She looked her up and down, from the top of her blonde hair over the loose white dress that brushed her mid-thigh, to the toes of her white boots. “I never would have put you in an all-white outfit. I would have thought it would wash you out. Wow, you knocked it out of the park.”
Her cheeks went hot. “Thanks, friend.”
They watched the room together for a beat. Katy gave Lila her first real job seven years ago. She’d walked into the Starboard interview in the only blazer she owned, saying things she’d practiced on the four-hour drive, and Katy hired her on the spot.
“Cassidy’s good,” Katy said.
“She is.”
“The press kit was brilliant. Well done.”
Lila knew it was. “Thanks.” She watched Cassidy accept a glass of water. “This town is going to eat her up and spit her out.”
Katy tapped her turquoise necklace with her manicured nail. “It often does. We’ll see what she looks like on the other side.”
Lila laughed. The sound came out dry.
Her phone buzzed against the high-top.
She glanced at it on instinct, expecting the Casey radio booking confirmation. The screen said Charlie Bradford instead.
She went still.
Charlie did not call. He had texted her exactly twice in eleven years, both times to confirm a Christmas package address. The last time Lila had seen Charlie Bradford in person had been at his parents’ funeral eleven years ago.
Something was wrong. Please don’t let it be Jake. She hit the green button and turned her shoulder to the launch.
“Charlie?”
“Lila.” His voice had the same flatness Jake’s voice had always had. “Hey. So. Mae had a heart attack.”
All of the noise around her disappeared.
“How bad?”
“Mild. They told me to use that word, mild, six different times. She’s at the hospital in Lexington, and they’re keeping her overnight for sure, probably tomorrow as well. The doctor said stable.”
“When?”
“This afternoon. Jake found her in the kitchen. She was conscious but couldn’t get to the phone.”
Lila watched a drop of condensation slide down the champagne flute. “I’ll be there.” Should she fly or drive? Drive. She should drive. “I’m leaving right now.”
“Drive careful.”
“Charlie.” She kept her voice steady. “Tell her I’m coming.”
“I’ll tell her.”
Lila stood with the phone against her ear for a full beat after the line had gone dead.
Katy narrowed her eyes and watched her. Finally, she asked, “Your grandma?”
Lila nodded once. “Go,” Katy said.
“Cassidy still has the radio piece. And the seven a.m. with Country Now, and the meeting with—”
“Lila.”
“And Wednesday I have a—”
“Lila, go.”
‹—☙—∞—❧—›
Lila got to her apartment in twenty-two minutes flat. She changed into jeans and boots and left five minutes later, a suitcase haphazardly packed.
By eleven-fifteen she was on I-65 north. Thankfully, traffic was thin this time of night. She drove with both hands at ten and two and the radio off while she thought about Mae.
She’d never known her parents. Her mother left her with Mae when she was six months old and just never came back. Mae had taught her to drive on a tractor and pull the cultivator when she was eleven. She taught her how to bundle sunflowers for their booth at Fox Hollow’s Fall Kickoff Festival when she was twelve. She sewed her prom dress, took a thousand pictures at her graduation, and sent her care packages once a month in college.
Mae did not have heart attacks. Mae was supposed to outlive them all.
As she entered Bowling Green her gas light came on. She got off of the exit and pulled into the closest gas station. As she turned her car off, she just sat there for a moment and suddenly tears filled her eyes. She didn’t know what she would do if Mae wasn’t there anymore. Her breath hiccupped and she pressed her fingers to her eyes. She still wore the stupid fake lashes from the kickoff event.
She breathed in and out slowly. As soon as she felt some control return, she dabbed under her eyes to make sure the makeup stayed in place, then got out to pump the gas.
She drove east and got to Lexington just as the sky began to lighten. It took no time to find a parking space in the hospital’s garage. She checked her phone and found the text from Charlie that gave her the room number. In the elevator, she checked her reflection in the elevator doors. Her hair had started to come out of her braid and her eyeliner had smeared a little. She wiped under her eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the elevator.
‹—☙—∞—❧—›
Mae was smaller than she had been at Christmas.
Lila stood in the doorway of the room and kept her hand on the frame for a beat, just to steady the tilt of the world. Her precious grandmother wore a hospital gown, hooked to to two leads and an IV. She wore her glasses and looked up from her book when she heard Lila at the door. Immediately, a smile covered her face.
“Lila Grace.”
“Hi, Granny Mae.”
She held out her thin arms. “Get over here.”
Lila crossed the room and let Mae pull her close. She didn’t smell like lilacs like she had her entire life. She would go home and get her lotion so she could smell right.
“You didn’t need to come,” Mae said as she release her.
“Don’t be silly.” She sat down in the orange chair beside the bed and took Mae’s hand. “You scared me.”
“I scared myself.”
“They said mild,” Lila said.
“They said mild a lot. I don’t think the word changed anything in the actual ventricle.”
Mae was still Mae. “That sounds like a Mae sentence.”
“I’m tired but I’m me.” She reached over and patted her hand. “Did Jake call you?”
Lila’s heart gave a little tug. She shook her head. “Charlie.”
“He’s a good boy.”
She thought Charlie would likely take exception to being called a boy by anyone but Mae. “Jake found me. They let him ride in the ambulance with me.”
“I’m glad he was there.”
“He was here until he had to go do the evening milking. I imagine he’ll be back soon.”
Lila looked at the door as if Mae had conjured Jake. She licked her lips. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, Sugar.” She closed her eyes. “I’ll just rest now that I know you got here safe.” After a second, she opened them again. “I have things to discuss with you,” she said, her voice slurry with tired.
“There’s time,” Lila whispered. As Mae fell asleep, Lila lay her head on bed next to their clasped hands and closed her eyes. A tear slid over the bridge of her nose and plopped onto the sheet.
‹—☙—∞—❧—›
Jake Bradford pushed the door open with the back of his hand and stepped into the room.
He had expected to see two heads on the way in. Mae’s silver, on the high pillow. Lila’s auburn, on the orange chair beside the bed.
The chair was empty.
His jaw tightened slightly. He did not say anything yet.
“There he is,” Mae said. She set her book face-down on her chest and shifted her glasses.
“Morning, Granny Mae.” She was not his grandmother, but all of his life he’d called her that and it never felt right to stop.
“Get over here. Don’t stand in the doorway.”
He walked over and bent and kissed the top of her head. Then stepped back.
“How was the milking?”
“Fine.”
He sat down in the orange chair and examined Mae. He’d come over to see if she needed him to mow her lawn and found her on the kitchen floor. She’d scared him. He didn’t mind admitting that.
Mae had picked up her book again and watched him quietly over the top of it.
“What?”
“Spit it out, son.”
“Nothing to spit.”
“You’re holding that cap like you’re about to break the brim.”
He forced his hands to relax. “I just expected she’d be here.”
Mae let her book fall flat to her chest. “Lila Grace went home about two hours ago. She was going to shower, eat something, and feed the cat. Said she’d be back about lunch.”
He did not say anything right away. His chest loosened. He hadn’t known he was braced.
“All right.”
“All right.”
“No cat ever died missing a meal. Especially that one.” He was intentionally trying to lighten up the conversation.
“Sugar, that cat would have starved for a week and Lila wouldn’t put it on a person’s conscience.”
He nearly laughed.
Mae lifted her hand from her book and patted the rail of the bed. “You don’t have to sit here.”
“You don’t have to try to tell me what to do.”
She gave a small, “Hmph.” Then picked her book back up. After a moment, she set it down again. “Jake.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“She didn’t put your mama and daddy in that plane.” His hands went cold. “She’s not the reason you didn’t leave.”
He stared at her for a long time. Emotion churned in his stomach. Finally, he said, “She didn’t come home that first harvest you brought in alone.” He paused. “She didn’t ever come home.”
“No. I don’t begrudge her finding a life, Jacob Michael. You shouldn’t, either.”
He knew that. But he’d hoped that after college, since he couldn’t come to her, she’d choose to come to him. And…well, that was a long time ago.
He thought about the magazine on Charlie’s counter at the Feed and Seed last August. The cover with Lila on it in some white dress with her hair all fancy and curled with her arm at the shoulder of the country singer with the deliberately torn jeans. Suddenly, he’d known she would never return.
Had he been waiting all this time?
Mae settled her hand on top of his. “You know what I think, son?”
“What?”
“I think you’ve been carrying her for a long time and you don’t know how to put her down.”
He let out a long sigh and looked at the clock above the door. Twenty minutes to noon. Lila had told Mae she would be back about lunch. As much as he’d prepared himself since last night to see her, he suddenly couldn’t do it.
He stood. “I’ll let you rest,” he said.
“Hmmm.” She kept her eyes closed. He bent and kissed her silver hair then walked out the door. He didn’t relax again until he slid into his truck cab without encountering Miss Lila Harper from Nashville, Tennessee who finally deigned to return.
Get your copy here: https://link.amazon/B07xT4VYt