For Her Son's Love. Kathryn SpringerЧитать онлайн книгу.
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Miranda took the first deep breath her lungs would allow during the last hour.
The exact amount of time Andrew Noble had been in the restaurant.
An ember of disgust flared inside her. People struggled to make ends meet while men like Andrew Noble spent money they hadn’t even worked for. A poster boy for the idle rich.
An incredibly good-looking poster boy…
Miranda tried to shake the thought away before it took hold and formed an image of perfectly chiseled features, tousled black hair and eyes a warm palette of soft greens and browns.
Too late.
A Tiny Blessings Tale: Loving families and needy children continue to come together to fulfill God’s greatest plans!
FOR HER SON’S LOVE
Kathryn Springer (LI #404)
MISSIONARY DADDY
Linda Goodnight (LI #408)
A MOMMY IN MIND
Arlene James (LI #412)
LITTLE MISS MATCHMAKER
Dana Corbit (LI #416)
GIVING THANKS FOR BABY
Terri Reed (LI #420)
A HOLIDAY TO REMEMBER
Jillian Hart (LI #424)
KATHRYN SPRINGER
is a lifelong resident of Wisconsin. Growing up in a newspaper family, she spent long hours as a child plunking out stories on her mother’s typewriter. She wrote her first “book” at the age of ten and hasn’t stopped writing since then! Kathryn began writing inspirational romance because it allows her to combine her faith in God with her love of a happy ending.
For Her Son’s Love
Kathryn Springer
“See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.”
—Isaiah 49:16
To Char—Just because
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
The last time Andrew Noble visited Chestnut Grove had been eight months ago, when he’d shown up to surprise his cousin, Rachel, on her birthday. This time, it was to fire her.
He hoped the bouquet of peach roses tucked in the crook of his arm would soften the blow.
Andrew bypassed the spacious reception area of the Noble Foundation and veered toward the stairs that led to the suite of offices on the top floor of the building. Rachel didn’t know he was in town and Andrew didn’t want anyone to warn her. For what he had to do, keeping the element of surprise might be in his favor. He hoped she’d be so happy to see him—and the bouquet of her favorite flowers—that she’d cheerfully hand over the Foundation’s checkbook.
Right.
Even though they had practically grown up together and were more like siblings than first cousins, the Noble Foundation was Rachel’s baby. Her parents, Beatrice and Charles, may have founded the organization, which raised money for worthwhile charities, but Rachel’s energy, drive and creativity had pushed its reputation and influence beyond the boundaries of Virginia. At the moment, her commitment wasn’t in question; her energy level was.
It was the reason his mother, at the urging of his aunt Beatrice, had tracked him down at a friend’s beach house in Malibu the day before.
Andrew wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or insulted that his name had been the one pulled out of the family hat.
Rachel was expecting a baby at the end of the summer and according to Eli Cavanaugh, Rachel’s husband, she’d been feeling unusually fatigued over the past few weeks. Eli had finally gotten her to admit she’d experienced some bouts of dizziness, too. Even though pediatrics, not obstetrics, was Eli’s specialty, he’d shared his concern with Beatrice, who’d shared it with Andrew’s mother. They’d decided someone needed to step in and temporarily ease the reins of the Foundation out of Rachel’s capable hands.
That someone was him. Apparently, the old adage “desperate times call for desperate measures” held some truth.
Andrew exhaled in relief when he saw there was no one at the desk that guarded the entrance to Rachel’s corner office. The staff had a tendency to protect Rachel as if she were the Hope diamond.
He pushed open the door, expecting to see his prototype-for-the-Type-A-personality cousin hard at work. What he saw instead made his blood run cold— Rachel sound asleep in the leather chair, her bare feet propped up on the desk. At nine o’clock in the morning.
He coughed lightly.
Rachel’s body jerked and she bolted upright, wide awake.
“Andrew!”
With a cry of delight, Rachel pushed herself out of the chair and waddled into his arms. “What are you doing here? The baby isn’t due for another few months. Or are you planning to pull another one of your famous disappearing acts on us again?”
Andrew planted a kiss on her cheek, not missing the purple shadows under her eyes and the lines of fatigue bracketing her mouth. Guilt kicked in as he realized his aunt hadn’t exaggerated Rachel’s condition. He didn’t know anything about pregnant women, but even to his inexperienced eyes she looked completely worn out.
He decided honesty was the best policy.
“I’m here to take over the Noble Foundation. By force, if necessary, but I’m hoping these roses will do the trick.”
Rachel accepted the bouquet, her expression wry. “You heard.”
Andrew sauntered over to the leather chair and sat down. “Word on the street is that you haven’t been feeling well.”
“I should have known. Our mothers are ganging up on me and they sent you to do their dirty work.” Rachel crossed her arms over her bulging abdomen. “It’s just normal pregnancy stuff. I am carrying the equivalent of an airline-approved carry-on around my middle.”
Andrew just looked at her until she gave an irritated little huff. “You can lower that arrogant eyebrow of yours. I admit it. Dr. Bingham is a little concerned about the swelling in my hands and feet. Overly concerned, if you ask me. He and Eli are friends, so…” Her eyes narrowed. “Did Eli call you?”
“I plead the Fifth.” Andrew grinned. “I received an order from the top to take control of things here while you go home, put your feet up and watch the cooking channel.”