The Year of Chasing Dreams by Lurlene McDaniel


  When Ciana stood at her mother’s side in the chapel’s narthex, she saw that the late afternoon sun streamed through high prism-cut windows, sending fractured slices of pure light downward. When she came down the chapel aisle, the look on Jon’s face reflected what was in her heart. Joy. The ceremony was brief, and when Jon slipped Isabella’s hand-forged and resized golden band on her finger, she told him with her eyes it was a perfect fit in every way.

  They held a small dinner in a private dining room within the hotel where Jon had booked a honeymoon suite. The room glowed with candlelight and resonated with soft music. The next day, all would go their separate ways—Garret and Eden would hit the road in their camper and Alice Faye and Angela would return to Bellmeade to “keep the place running” until Jon and Ciana returned from a six-day honeymoon in Montana. Two weeks afterward, Ciana and Jon had booked a meeting with Hastings about the rebuild of their house.

  The dinner broke up when Jon announced that he and his bride were going upstairs without the guests. Everyone laughed, and gathered their things. At the door Ciana hugged everyone, with her goodbye to Garret and Eden especially bittersweet. “You take care of her, you big Aussie.”

  “Always been my plan,” Garret said with a flash of his infectious smile.

  She wrapped her arms around Eden. Tears swam in her eyes. “You have a ball, little sister. And you stay in touch.”

  Little sister. Their birthdays were only a few months apart, but their sisterhood transcended genetics. “We won’t be gone forever.”

  “Better not be.” Ciana leaned closer. “I’m having Hastings build a special place for you at Bellmeade. Your own house.”

  Eden’s mouth dropped open. “Ciana!”

  Ciana shushed her. “Your home, Eden. No expiration date.” She stepped away before they both broke down sobbing.

  Upstairs Jon pushed open the door of the suite, insisted on carrying Ciana into the room. She protested. “I can walk.”

  “I can either pick you up or do the fireman’s carry. You decide.”

  He was determined, so she relented, and he scooped her up into his arms and crossed the threshold. When he set her on the floor, she took in the suite. Impressive. On a linen-covered cart a champagne bucket held a fine vintage bottle with two crystal glasses beside it. Jon popped the cork and poured each of them a glass. Their gazes held as they sipped the sparkling wine together. The tiny bubbles tickled her nose. Beyond the cart and sitting area, she saw a doorway and a bed turned down and strewn with rose petals. A cliché, but she loved it.

  She walked to the foot of the bed with Jon. “Your idea?”

  “Not me. I’d have used alfalfa hay. I know what turns you on.”

  She stared at the bed, felt suddenly shy and nervous. He had touched her intimately, but now it was different somehow. A ceremony, a holy blessing, two rings. Now they belonged to each other. She brushed aside the awkwardness, handed him her glass. Then she turned, spread her arms wide and flopped backward onto the bed. She laughed, flapped her arms, and sent the fragrant petals in all directions. Jon came to the side of the bed, looked at her, his gaze traveling the length of her body. The old familiar fire heated up inside her. “You just going to stand there looking?”

  A sexy smile lifted the corner of his mouth. He removed his suit coat, then his shirt. In the softness of the single bedside lamp, his bare upper body glowed golden. She connected with his green eyes, began slowly unbuttoning her shirt, and scooting out of her jeans. He sat on the bed, removed her boots, then his. In no time clothing barriers vanished. He sat, unmoving, gazing at her body, almost with reverence. She raised her arms, an invitation that beckoned him to hold her. He leaned over, braced his hands on either side of her. The scent of roses hung in the air, and the light caught the glimmer of gold on her hand. She said, “I guess we’re legal now, cowboy.”

  “That scare you?”

  Her heart was beating so hard she thought he might hear it. “What do you think?”

  Jon dipped to lightly kiss her. “I think we’re a perfect match, pretty lady. I love you, Ciana Beauchamp.”

  She traced a finger along his jawline. “Don’t you mean Ciana Mercer?”

  He looked surprised. “I thought it was a tradition that Beauchamp women kept their family name. I’m all right with that.”

  She cupped his face with both hands, let go of a childhood promise. “Not all traditions are worth keeping.”

  A smile flitted over Jon’s lips. “Hello, wife,” he whispered.

  She pulled him closer. Their bodies merged. And the two became one.

  [Fluffer Nutter]

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  I have always lived in the South. I love its rich history and warm hospitality. I especially love small Southern towns, the ones connected by two-lane back roads that meander through the open countryside. When I created the fictional town of Windemere, I infused it with my own experience. From the ballparks, high school football games, county fairs, and country music festivals to hearty breakfasts at the local diner and gathering on weekends and holidays for a barbecue or town social to life on the family farm. I made it a place where most everybody knows everybody else and it’s not uncommon to leave your front door unlocked.

  The Southern way revolves around building for tomorrow from the bricks of the past. I love spinning stories about people who feel like family and with whom you, the reader, would like to stay connected. So since you may want to keep in touch with the characters you’ve met in this novel and its companion, The Year of Luminous Love, there is a good chance you will see them passing on the streets of Windemere in future novels as well. I hope you’ll sit a spell, drink some sweet tea, and enjoy your time with my extended family of characters.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  My thanks for agricultural expertise for this novel go to John Goddard, Loudon County, Tennessee, Agricultural Extension Agent; Bart Watson, Loudon County, Tennessee, Farm Bureau Agent; and Jim Farley, a dashing young insurance man, and Martha Farley, his wonderful wife.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Lurlene McDaniel began writing inspirational novels about teenagers facing life-altering situations when her son was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes. “I saw firsthand how chronic illness affects every aspect of a person’s life,” she has said. “I want kids to know that while people don’t get to choose what life gives to them, they do get to choose how they respond.”

  Lurlene McDaniel’s novels are hard-hitting and realistic, but also leave readers with inspiration and hope. Her books have received acclaim from readers, teachers, parents, and reviewers. Her bestselling novels include Don’t Die, My Love; Till Death Do Us Part; Hit and Run; Telling Christina Goodbye; True Love: Three Novels; and The End of Forever.

  Lurlene McDaniel lives in Chattanooga, Tennessee.

 


 

  Lurlene McDaniel, The Year of Chasing Dreams

 


 

 
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