Mother, Please! - By Brenda Novak & Jill Shalvis & Alison Kent Page 0,36

out of my staid existence. Something tells me I just landed in the fast lane.”

“Maybe. But it’s going to be the ride of your life, sweet April,” he said, and slid the ring onto her finger.

Epilogue

CLAIRE ASHTON FELT as nervous as a new bride. There’d been times over the past decade when she’d worried that her bright, serious daughter would never step out of her lab long enough to find a man and get married. Yet here April was, on her wedding day, looking beautiful in her simple but elegant white satin gown and stylish veil. Part of her dark hair was pinned up with tiny pearls for accent and curls cascaded down her back. She was walking up the aisle on Walt’s arm, carrying a bouquet of pink roses that matched the healthy blush in her cheeks.

Gunner stood at the altar, wearing a traditional black tux. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. Which was perfectly understandable to Claire—April was special.

They make a good couple, Claire thought as Gunner took April’s hands and they began to exchange vows.

“I, April Ashton, promise to love, honor and cherish…”

Feeling an overwhelming sense of pride, Claire glanced up at Walt, who’d come to sit next to her after leaving April’s side, and found him staring at her. He’d had his surgery nearly a month ago and had lost a good deal of weight. But the color was coming back into his face, and she could tell he was starting to feel better.

When their eyes met, he took her hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles, and she knew she was back where she belonged, at the side of the man she’d married for better or worse thirty-three years ago. Somehow, despite everything, they’d found new, common ground and deeper commitment.

Turning her attention back to the ceremony, Claire watched Gunner kiss her daughter sweetly once the pastor had pronounced them husband and wife. She sniffed as tears rolled down her cheeks, but she didn’t even try to hold them back. Today, happy tears went with the territory.

As April and Gunner broke apart, Claire stood so she could approach them. But Walt stopped her.

April threw her father a conspiratorial smile and guided Gunner to the left, where they sat in the front pew.

“What’s happening?” Claire whispered, confused. No wedding she’d ever attended had the bride and groom taking a seat in the audience. The ceremony was over. It was time for the organ music to swell and the young couple to rush out of the church while being pelted with rice. “Why aren’t they leaving?”

“Because there’s still one thing left to do,” he said. Then he stood and led her to the altar.

“Most of you know that Claire and I have had some trouble this past year,” he announced to their small audience of family and friends. “We almost divorced, mostly because of my own foolishness. But because of Claire, and her ability to forgive, that’s behind us now. To show her how much she means to me, I’d like to exchange vows with her again, if she’ll speak them with me.”

As Claire glanced into the audience, more tears slipped down her cheeks. Her widowed mother, who was nearly eight-five, sat in the second row. Her sister and brother-in-law and their large, rambunctious family sat there, too. Gina Roper, April’s next-door neighbor, who’d been a friend to Claire throughout her darkest hour, was perched on the pew behind them, beaming at her. Gunner’s father and a couple of dozen relatives filled the pews on the other side.

“Will you marry me again, Claire?” Walt asked, his voice trembling with emotion.

Claire smiled at April and Gunner, then returned her gaze to her husband of thirty-three years. He was watching her with a hopeful expression, his sincerity shining in his eyes. She’d almost lost him. But he was back, and the nightmare was over. “What else can I do?” she said simply. “I love you.”

THE ROAD HOME

Jill Shalvis

CHAPTER ONE

IF ASKED, Melissa Anders would say her life was perfect. But when no one was looking, she sometimes took a deep breath, let it all out in a baffled sigh, and wondered how the hell she’d ended up here.

Here being out in the middle of California, in the small, quaint Martis Hills, treating various farm-animal ailments instead of the upscale, spoiled, snobby, pedigreed cats and dogs as she’d planned.

Sure, she loved being a veterinarian. But somehow during those long, exhausting college years, when she’d worked so hard