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Praise for Denise Hunter

“Can romance be any more complicated than a bride who doesn’t remember running away from her groom? Denise Hunter’s take on a woman’s attempt to find her way back to happily ever after again is sweetly endearing. Readers will keep turning pages, wanting to know how true love ever went so wrong . . . and if The Goodbye Bride gets her chance to say ‘I do.’”

—Beth K. Vogt, 2015 RITA® Finalist and author of Crazy Little Thing Called Love

“I’ve been a long-time fan of Denise Hunter’s, and The Goodbye Bride has everything I’ve come to love about her romances: a plucky heroine with lots of backstory, a yummy hero, and a terrific setting. Her fine attention to detail and the emotional punch of the story made me want to reread it immediately. Highly recommended!”

—Colleen Coble USA Today bestselling author of Mermaid Moon and the Hope Beach series

“Denise Hunter has done it once again, placing herself solidly on my must-read list! The Goodbye Bride is a tender, thoughtful look at the role memories play in a romance. The clever plot kept me up way past my bedtime—and happy to be so!”

—Deborah Raney, award-winning author of the Chicory Inn Novels series

“The Goodbye Bride highlights the abandonment that so many have experienced. More importantly, within the context of a wonderful Summer Harbor romance, the author deftly illustrates that there is One who will never abandon us, and when we trust Him, we can in turn trust the people He places in our lives. All this packaged inside one heart-stopping, page-turning romance that will leave the pickiest romance reader delighted and asking for just a few more pages.”

—Cara C. Putman, award-winning author of Where Treetops Glisten and Shadowed by Grace

“[Married ’til Monday] . . . leaves one knowing that love is worth fighting for.”

—RT Book Reviews, 4-star review

“If you enjoy romance blended with suspense, you’re going to love Denise Hunter’s latest novel. Falling Like Snowflakes will make your heart race twice over—from dread of the bad guys and from the joy of watching Beau and Eden fall in love.”

—Robin Lee Hatcher, bestselling author of Whenever You Come Around and Keeper of the Stars

“Denise Hunter writes the most complex, fascinating, and yummy romances out there! Falling Like Snowflakes has it all: a vulnerable young woman on the run with her child, a hunky hero with the guts and determination to help her, and a rugged setting along the coast of Maine. This novel is one you’ll reread again and again.”

—Colleen Coble, USA Today bestselling author of The Inn at Ocean’s Edge and the Hope Beach series

“Hunter is a master romance storyteller. Falling Like Snowflakes is charming and fun with a twist of mystery and intrigue. A story that’s sure to endure as a classic reader favorite.”

—Rachel Hauck, author of The Wedding Dress and the Royal Wedding series

“A handful of authors dominate my must-read list, and Denise Hunter is right at the top. Falling Like Snowflakes is a taut romantic thriller that will warm you to the core.”

—Julie Lessman, award-winning author of the Daughters of Boston, Winds of Change, and Heart of San Francisco series

“Falling Like Snowflakes is a story of letting go, finding home, and discovering who you really are. It’s a story that highlights the importance of community and faith within a romance that will warm your heart. You’ll discover winter in Maine—and find yourself ready to vacation there when the snowflakes fall. And maybe along the journey, you’ll discover the freedom of letting go and trusting God.”

—Cara Putman, award-winning author of Shadowed by Grace and Where Treetops Glisten

“. . . a warm, inspirational tale of ambition, confidence, family, and love.”

—Booklist on The Wishing Season

“A beautiful story—poignant and heartwarming, filled with delightful characters and intense emotion. Chapel Springs is a place anyone would love to call home.”

—RaeAnne Thayne, New York Times bestselling author on The Wishing Season

“. . . sparkling contemporary tale of competing ambitions, wounded personalities, and powerful attraction.”

—Publishers Weekly on The Wishing Season

“. . . skillfully combines elements of romance, family stories, and kitchen disasters. Fans of Colleen Coble and Robin Lee Hatcher will enjoy this winter-themed novel.”

—Library Journal on The Wishing Season

“This is an emotional tale of overcoming the fear of loss to love again and God’s love, made manifest through people, healing all wounds. The heroine’s doubts, fears, and eventual acceptance of the gift God has given her are told in a sympathetic and heartwarming way. The hero’s steadfastness is poignantly presented as well.”

—Romantic Times, 4 stars on Dancing with Fireflies

“Romance lovers will . . . fall for this gentleman who places his beloved’s needs before his own as faith guides him.”

—Booklist on Dancing with Fireflies

“Hunter’s latest Chapel Springs Romance is a lovely story of lost and found, with a heroine struggling to accept that trusting God doesn’t make life perfect—without loss or sorrow—but can bring great joy. The hero’s love for her and willingness to lose her to save her is quite moving.”

—Romantic Times, 4 stars on Barefoot Summer

“Jane Austen fans will appreciate the subtle yet delightful Austen vibe that flavors this contemporary cowboy romance—and not just because Pride & Prejudice is protagonist Annie’s favorite book. The Trouble with Cowboys is a fast, fun, and touching read with the added draw of a first kiss that is sure to make my Top 5 Fictional Kisses of 2012. So saddle up, ladies: We have a winner!”

—USAToday.com

“In the third and final book of the Big Sky series (which can be read out of order), Hunter may use the term ‘cowboy’ too much, but she creates an endearing story of a strong woman who learns to have faith in people and God’s plan—even if it doesn’t make sense at first. This read will not only have fans cheering the characters on, it will leave them feeling inspired in their own lives.”

—Romantic Times, 4 stars on The Trouble with Cowboys

“. . . a story filled with romantic tension . . . Hunter’s well-developed characters and plot twists make for a delightful and inspirational journey.”

—Publishers Weekly on The Trouble with Cowboys

“A fun weekend read with equal parts spunk and spice, Denise Hunter’s The Accidental Bride will keep readers lassoed up tight ’til the cows come home.”

—USA Today

Other Novels by Denise Hunter

Summer Harbor Novels

Falling Like Snowflakes

The Goodbye Bride

Just a Kiss

The Chapel Springs Romance Series

Barefoot Summer

Dancing with Fireflies

The Wishing Season

Married ’til Monday

A December Bride (novella)

The Big Sky Romance Series

A Cowboy’s Touch

The Accidental Bride

The Trouble with Cowboys

Nantucket Love Stories

Driftwood Lane

Seaside Letters

The Convenient Groom

Surrender Bay

Sweetwater Gap

Novellas included in Smitten, Secretly Smitten, and Smitten Book Club

Dedication

For Jesus, my tower of strength,
my shelter in the storm

Dear Friend

Dear friend,

I’m so glad you chose to embark on this journey to Nantucket. I hope you’ll enjoy your brief visit to the quaint New England island and the characters who inhabit this story.

While this series was still in its conception stage, God laid a very meaningful scripture on my heart: Zephaniah 3:17.

The Lord your God is with you,

he is mighty to save.

He will take great delight in you,

he will quiet you with his love,

he will rejoice over you with singing.

As I breathed in the comfort and peace the verse offers, I couldn’t help but notice that these characteristics of God’s are some of the qualities a woman looks for in a man. As that thought jelled, it struck me that a love story between a man and a woman could be a beautiful allegory, showing the depths of God’s love. At that moment, this series was born.

One of the things I love about Jesus’ parables is the way those stories, subtle as they are, allow us to see a familiar truth with fresh perspective. My goal with this series is to show aspects of God’s character through the relationship of the hero and heroine and to trust you, the reader, to make those connections yourself.

Sincerely,

Denise Hunter

One

One

Dating is like shopping for a garment. Everything looks great in the display window. Once inside the store, some of the dazzle disappears.

—Excerpt from Finding Mr. Right-for-You by Dr. Kate

The red light on Kate Lawrence’s cell phone blinked a staccato warning. But before she could retrieve the message, her maid of honor, Anna Doherty, waved her pale arms from the beach, stealing her attention.

Anna’s smooth voice sounded in her headset. “Kate, can you come here? We’ve got a few glitches.”

“Be right there.” Kate tucked her clipboard in the crook of her elbow, took the steps down Jetty Pavilion’s porch, and crossed the heel-sinking sand of the Nantucket shoreline. In six hours, thirty-four guests would be seated there in the rows of white chairs, watching Kate pledge her life to Bryan Montgomery under a beautiful hand-carved gazebo.

Where was the gazebo anyway? She checked her watch, then glanced toward the Pavilion, where workers scurried in white uniforms. No sign of Lucas.

She approached Anna, who wore worry lines as naturally as she wore her Anne Klein pantsuit. Anna was the best receptionist Kate could ask for. Her capable presence reassured the troubled couples she ushered through Kate’s office.

Right now, Anna’s long brown hair whipped across her face like a flag gone awry, and she batted it from her eyes with her freckled hand. “Soiree’s just called. Their delivery truck is in for service, and the flowers will be a little late. Half an hour at the most.”

Kate jotted the note on her schedule. “That’s okay.” She’d factored in cushion time.

“Murray’s called, and the tuxes haven’t been picked up except for your dad’s.”

Bryan and his best man had been due at Murray’s at nine thirty. An hour ago. “I’ll check on that. What else?”

Anna’s frown lines deepened, and her eyes blinked against the wind. “The carriage driver is sick, but they’re trying to find a replacement. The Weatherbys called and asked if they could attend last minute—they were supposed to go out of town, but their plans changed.” Kate nodded. “Fine, fine. Call and tell her they’re welcome. I’ll notify the caterer.”

“Your publicist—Pam?—has been trying to reach you. Did you check your cell? She said she got voice mail. Anyway, your book copies did arrive this morning. She dropped this off.” Anna pulled a hardback book from under her clipboard. “Ta-da!”

“My book!” Kate stared at the cover, where the title, Finding Mr. Right-for-You, floated above a cartoon couple. The man was on his knee, proposing. Below them, a colorful box housed the bold letters of Kate’s name. She ran her fingers over the glossy book jacket, feeling the raised bumps of the letters, savoring the moment.

“Pam wants a quick photo shoot before the guests arrive. You holding the book, that kind of thing. You should probably call her.” Kate jotted the note. While it was on her mind, she reached down and turned on her cell.

“Ready for more great news?” Anna asked. Her blue eyes glittered like diamonds. The news had to be good.

“What?”

“The New York Times is sending a reporter and a photographer. They want to do a feature story on your wedding and your book.”

Fresh air caught and held in Kate’s lungs. Rosewood Press was probably turning cartwheels. “That’s fabulous. They’ll want an interview.” She scanned her schedule, looking for an open slot. After the reception? She hated to do it, but Bryan would understand. The New York Times. It would give Kate’s initial sales the boost it needed. Maybe enough to make the bestseller list.

“Here’s the number.” Anna handed her a yellow Post-It. “That tabloid guy has been hanging around all morning, trying to figure out who the groom is. I told him he’d find out in six hours like everyone else. The rest of the media is scheduled to arrive an hour before the wedding, and Pam’s having an area set up over there for them.” Anna gestured behind the rows of chairs to a square blocked off with white ribbon.

“Good. I want them to be as inconspicuous as possible. This is my wedding, and a girl only gets married once, after all.”

“One would hope.” Anna said. “Is there anything else I can do?”

Kate gave her a sideways hug, as close to an embrace as she’d ever given her assistant, her fingers pressing into Anna’s fleshy shoulder. “You’re a godsend. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Oh! I know what I forgot to tell you. The gazebo. It should have been here by now. I tried to call Lucas, but I got the machine, and I don’t have his cell number.”

“His shop’s closed today, and he doesn’t have a cell.” The man didn’t wear a watch, much less carry a phone. She should’ve known better than to put something this crucial in his hands. Kate checked her watch. “I’ll run over and check on it.”

The drive to town was quick and effortless, but Kate’s mind swam with a hundred details. She jotted reminders on her clipboard when she stopped for pedestrians, occasionally admiring the cover of her book.

She couldn’t believe what a wonderful day it was. She had a book coming out, she was about to walk down the aisle, and the weather couldn’t be more perfect. Thank you, God, for the beautiful day, for the man I’m about to marry, for the book deal. Eveything was in perfect order.

She called Pam for a quick recap about the New York Times reporter, and by the time she hung up, she was pulling into a parallel slot on Main Street, in front of Lucas’s storefront.

The sign above the picture window read “Cottage House Furniture.” On the second floor of the Shaker building, the wooden shingle for her own business dangled from a metal pole: “Kate Lawrence, Marriage Counseling Services.” She needed to remind Lucas to remove it; otherwise he’d leave it hanging for another year or until someone else rented the space.

Kate exited her car and slid her key into the rusty lock of the shop’s door. Once inside, she passed the stairs leading to her office and walked through the darkened maze of furniture to the back, where she hoped to find Lucas. She bumped an end table with her shin. Ow! That would leave a mark.

The high-pitched buzz of a power tool pierced the darkness, a good sign. “Lucas?” She rapped loudly on the metal door with her knuckles. The noise stopped.

“Come in.”

She opened the door. Lucas Wright looked up from his spot on the cement floor at the base of the gazebo, his too-long hair hanging over one eye. He looked her over, then turned back to the spindle and ran his thick hand over it as if testing the curves.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the beach?” he asked.

Kate crossed her arms. “I could ask you the same thing.”

He stood, agile for his size, and backed away from the gazebo. Sawdust from the floor clung to his faded jeans and black T-shirt. “I was just finishing.”

“You were supposed to be there an hour ago. The gazebo needs to be put in place before the sound system, and the florist has to decorate it, and there are people waiting to do their jobs.”

He faced her, looking into her in that way of his that made her feel like he could see clean through her. “Today’s the big day, huh?” Putting his tool on his workhorse, he dusted off his hands, moving in slow motion as though he’d decided tonight wouldn’t arrive until next week.

Kate checked her watch. “Do you think you can get this down to the beach sometime today?”

Walking around the piece, he studied it, hands on his hips, head cocked. “You like it?”

For the first time since the week before, Kate looked at the gazebo—the white lattice top, the hand-carved spindles, the gentle arch of the entry. At the top of the arch, a piece of wood curved gracefully, etched with clusters of daisies. The gazebo’s simple lines were characteristic of Lucas’s work, but she’d never known him to use such exquisite detail. The piece had an elegance that surpassed her expectations. He did beautiful work; she’d give him that.

“I do. I love the etching.” She sighed. Just when he irritated the snot out of her, he did something like this, caught her off guard. She always felt like she was tripping down the stairs when she was with him.

Focus! “It needs to find its way to the beach. Pronto.”

“Yes ma’am.” His salute was unhurried.

Before she could offer a retort, her cell phone pealed and buzzed simultaneously, and she pulled it from her capri pocket.

“Hello?”

“Kate?”

“Bryan.” Turning away from Lucas and toward the door, she eyed a crude desk with a metal folding chair that bore countless rusty scratches. “Good morning.” A smile crept into her voice. It was their wedding day. The day they’d planned for nearly two years. “Did you sleep well?” She hadn’t. She’d rumpled the sheets until nearly two o’clock, but that was to be expected.

The silence on the other end, however, was not. “Bryan?” Had she lost the signal?

“Um, Kate, did you get my message?”

There’d been a blinking red light this morning. She’d assumed it was Pam’s voice mail and hadn’t checked. Suddenly, she wished she had.

“No. What’s wrong?”

“Are you sitting down?”

“No, I’m not sitting down. Just tell me.” An ugly dread snaked down her spine and settled there, coiled and waiting.

“I’m on my way back to Boston,” he said. “I left a message this morning. You must’ve had your phone off.”

Kate’s stomach stirred. She stared at the wall in front of her—a pegboard with a zillion holes, metal prongs poking from it, tools and cords everywhere. “What happened?” Some emergency, maybe?

What emergency could trump our wedding?

“I can’t marry you, Kate.”

The words dropped, each one crumbling under its own weight. The stirring in her stomach intensified. “That’s not funny, Bryan.” It was a terrible joke. He’d never been good with jokes. His punch lines left you leaning forward, waiting for the rest.

“I’m in love with someone else.”

Pain. A huge wooden spoon, tossing the contents of her stomach. Her legs wobbled, trembling on the wedge heels of her sandals, and she clutched the cold metal of the folding chair. “What?” Was that her voice, weak and thready? Someone had vacuumed all the moisture from her mouth, sucked the air from her lungs.

“I’m so sorry,” Bryan was saying. “I know this is awful. You don’t deserve this, but I can’t marry you. It happened slowly, and I didn’t realize what was going on until recently. I tried to put it out of my mind, but I just can’t. And I can’t marry you knowing how I feel. I’m so sorry, Kate.”

“What?” It was the only word her mind could form at the moment.

“I know there’s no excuse. I should have told you before now, but I thought it would go away. I thought I was just having cold feet or something, but it’s more than that.”

“We’ve been together for two years, Bryan.”

It was a stupid thing to say, but it was all she could think of. Memories played across the screen of her mind in fast-forward. The day they’d met in line at Starbucks in downtown Boston when Kate had gone there for a conference. Their first date at the Colonial Theatre. The long-distance courting and weekend visits. The e-mails, the phone calls, the engagement, the book. It all whizzed by, coming to a screeching halt here, at this moment. Here, in Lucas’s dusty workshop. Here, in front of the special gazebo they were to be married in.

“I’ve already called my family and told them. I know there’s a lot to do, and I’ll help any way you want me to. And then there’s your book . . . I’m so sorry.”

Sorry. You’re sorry? She pictured the precise rows of white chairs, the tent being erected as they spoke, the celebrity preacher, the photographers.

The New York Times.

She closed her burning eyes. Everything would have to be cancelled.

At that thought, humiliation arrived on the scene, sinking in past the pain of betrayal. The weight of it pushed at her shoulders, and she grabbed the hair at her nape. Think, Kate! This is no time to lose it.

“Stop, Bryan. Just stop and think about what you’re doing. Maybe you’re letting your issues with your parents’ divorce affect your decisions. This kind of fear is perfectly natural before a wedding, and maybe—”

“No, it’s not that—”

“How do you know?” She forced reason into her tone. Used her soothing voice—the one she used when things got heated between one of her couples. “We love each other. We’re perfect for each other. You’ve said it a hundred times.”

“There’s something missing, Kate.”

She wobbled again and steadied herself with a hand on the chair. “Something missing”? What was that supposed to mean?

As her mind grappled with that seemingly unanswerable question, she felt a hand at her back, leading her into the chair. She was sitting, her head as fuzzy as a cotton-candy machine, her emerald-cut engagement ring blurring before her eyes.

“What do you mean there’s something missing? The only thing missing is the groom. For our wedding that starts in five hours. Five hours, Bryan.” Now she felt the hysteria building and took a full breath, nearly choking on the way the oxygen stretched her lungs.

“I’ll help in any way I can.”

“You can help by showing up for our wedding!”

The Story Continues on BooksBarbecue!

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