A Time to Build (Love's Time Book 2) Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PRAISE FOR DORA’S BOOKS

  COPYRIGHT

  DEDICATION

  KEY VERSE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  EPILOGUE

  PREVIEW OF A TIME TO EMBRACE

  PREVIEW OF FULLY INVOLVED

  ABOUT DORA HIERS

  OTHER BOOKS BY DORA HIERS

  Praise for Dora Hiers

  “This story is a great way to get in the Christmas mood - or just to give yourself a shot of heartwarming, sweet romance, in case it's not Christmas time when you read it :-)” ~ An Avid Reader on Christmas on Mistletoe Mountain

  “Every now and then I will read a book that has me clocking extra miles on my treadmill and elliptical, A Marshal’s Secret was one of those books. From the start, I was sucked into this page-turning, suspense filled book. The chemistry between Avery Derose and Marshal Trent Burdine was off the charts!” ~ Jill Weatherholt, author of Second Chance Romance and A Father for Bella

  “I enjoyed this story quite a bit! I am married to a Fire Captain, so much of the story rang true! The stress and the heartbreak on the job, the need to have someone to come home to. The camaraderie between the crew was special as well. I also understood Cammie’s worries and concerns- about her job, about him, and about the importance of helping others become stronger, better people.” ~ Patricia on Fully Involved

  A TIME TO BUILD

  Copyright © 2019 by Dora Hiers

  Published by Grace Legacy Publishing

  Cover Art by German Creative

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either imaginary or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, events or locales is coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means without written permission from Dora Hiers or Grace Legacy Publishing, except for including brief quotations in reviews along with proper acknowledgement. Unauthorized duplication and/or distribution is illegal. eBook editions may not be copied, resold or given away. Please purchase only authorized editions and do not participate in the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Contact information: [email protected]

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  Published by Grace Legacy Publishing

  First Edition, 2019

  Published in the United States of America

  Scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

  Dedication

  To burn survivors...

  “The flames that ravaged your body didn’t change who you are or diminish the beauty that shines from the inside out.” Carson Lambright, A Time to Build

  “You are precious and beautiful in God’s sight, exactly the way you are. Never, ever forget that. One day you’ll wake up and realize the storm has passed. The pain has lessened, the tears have dried up, and the Son has risen.” Dora Hiers, Burn Survivor

  To my God...

  Thank You for carrying me through the storms in my life.

  You are my Rock, my Refuge, my Hiding Place.

  I love you!

  The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.

  1 Samuel 16:7b

  1

  The prodigal son was back.

  Carson Lambright slid the book bag off his shoulder and slipped into the back row, ignoring the heads slanting in his direction, the whispers behind cupped lips, and the pointed fingers.

  Didn’t they know gossip wasn’t polite?

  Some things never changed. Like rumors and how they raged through the small town faster and with more ferocity than a wildfire.

  “Excuse me.” He scooted past a middle-aged couple he didn’t recognize. The woman, with blonde hair piled high on top of her head in a stringent bun, gasped and jerked her partner’s arm before digging a phone from the bowels of an enormous bag.

  Her fingers blazed across the screen. Probably tapping out a status update to all her friends.

  By now, the entire population of Harrison, North Carolina, knew Camdon’s twin was back.

  He groaned. A wedding was supposed to be about the bride and groom, not the wayward son finally returning home.

  Scowling, he settled into a thinly cushioned seat, relief flowing all the way through to his aching limbs. After two weeks of hiking, dealing with bleeding blisters and hitching rides when he could get them, he wasn’t turning around just for the sake of a few gossips.

  Not after he’d made it home and hugged his little sister. He might have sorely misjudged the timing but leaving now would break Remi’s heart.

  It wouldn’t be too healthy for his, either.

  He could hardly wait to wrap his arms around his mama and meet the man who’d won over sweet, painfully shy Remi. He wanted to slap his twin on the back, and then slither into an oversized sudsy bathtub to erase the grime and dust he’d accumulated over the last thirteen years.

  If only a bath could erase his mistakes, his failures, as easily.

  A late spring breeze drifted over him, ruffling the flimsy material of his cotton shirt and wafting through the holes in his last pair of jeans. Scratching his scruffy beard, he slumped low in the seat, finally forcing his shoulders to relax and allowing his eyelids to droop, the long years of wandering sinking into a weariness that went bone deep. He could probably sleep straight through until Monday without moving a muscle.

  But he wouldn’t.

  He sat up straight, determination to stay awake lifting his shoulders and resolve stiffening his spine. He hadn’t traveled all this way just to reconnect with his family. No, he planned to track down Jillian Sutthill. He owed her an apology. One that was over a decade late.

  Why did it always take something catastrophic to make a person long for what could have been? To make a person take stock of their blessings and realize what they’d given up or taken for granted?

  He shook his head. What made him think Jillian was still in Harrison? Likely, she’d moved on. Probably living in a house with a white picket fence, three kids, and a perfect husband who doted on her. That’s what she deserved, anyway.

  Him? He’d never deserved her love. Not then and definitely not now. But, at least, he’d feel better after he apologized. Then, maybe he could move on with his life. Tuck the pent-up dreams and the “what if’s” behind him, where they should have stayed all along.

  He scraped a hand across the stubble smattered across his cheeks. Besides, what he deserved and what he wanted were two different things, and right now, neither mattered. And with no immediate job opportunity on the horizon, he’d have plenty of time to sleep.

&nbs
p; Sighing, he blinked back the weariness and rolled his gaze along the handful of people lined up in front with the pastor.

  His brother, Camdon.

  Man, how he’d missed his twin. He’d even missed his brother’s controlling nature, but that wasn’t something he’d admit to Camdon.

  The groom, famous racecar driver Mason Mulrennan. All fancied up in a black tux and pinning Remi with a love-struck gaze. If it weren’t for all the pictures plastered over the news, Carson would never have guessed that the guy was a celebrity athlete. With his sister’s extreme social phobia, how did she ever hook up with him?

  He’d have to ask Camdon. His gaze shifted to the next person in line.

  The bride. His baby sister, dressed in a silky white gown, her long hair pulled back in some type of fancy knot under that veil.

  When he’d left, hadn’t she been just a kid? The last thing lodged in his brain was her giddy excitement over finally getting her driver’s license. Camdon had gotten on to him for teasing her unmercifully about being an old lady before she could actually drive, but she hadn’t seemed to care. She’d just smiled sweetly and swatted at his arm. Now here she was, all grown up and glowing with a peaceful radiance.

  Carson swiped a sleeve across his face, blotting out the moisture burning his eyes. He’d stayed away too long. He refocused on the next person in line.

  Sunlight dazzled from the late afternoon sky, glinting like diamonds from a halo-like crown of the blonde-haired beauty standing next to his sister.

  Jillian?

  He straightened in the chair, sucking in a long breath, holding it until his lungs practically burst with the effort. It couldn’t be her, could it?

  Camdon had never mentioned Jillian.

  Granted, he’d only called Camdon occasionally, just to let him know that he was still alive and to pass the news along to his mom. Not that his less-than-sporadic calls would stop his mother from worrying. But, talking to his twin was his way of holding on to that tenuous strand linking him to his family without the guilt. And Camdon wouldn’t break down like his mother or sister would.

  No. His brother was always a solid rock on the phone, just like he’d always been for their family after their dad’s death.

  Unlike him.

  But Camdon hadn’t bothered to let on that Jillian had matured into this stunning creature or even that she still lived in the area. Not that he’d ventured to ask about her.

  What had he expected? That when he left, she wouldn’t stick around either? Get real, man.

  “Mason, you may now kiss your bride.” The kindness in the pastor’s voice snagged his attention back to the couple, now locked in a lingering man and wife kiss.

  But the beautiful woman’s silhouette drew his gaze. Was it really her? She’d always been beautiful, but now…

  Now she was a stunner. A jade gown dropped midway to her slender ankles. Delicate lacy sleeves highlighted well-defined muscles. The silky material hugged her form and accentuated her curves.

  He didn’t like the direction his thoughts were headed. Forcing his gaze up, he tamped down a sigh and silently scolded his wishy-washy heart.

  Curly wisps of golden hair had come untucked from the clasp gathering it in the back. Her chin jutted out, and her lips quivered, her knuckles tightly gripping the bouquet. As if she was desperately trying to hold it together.

  He twisted to get a better look around the person in front of him. Not difficult since there were only five rows of chairs for the guests.

  A tear trickled down the woman’s ivory cheek. She swiped it away with a tissue, leaving a tiny smudge of dark makeup.

  Oh, yeah. That confirmed it.

  He leaned back, shock pinning him to the chair.

  Jillian’s eyes. Always so alluring, so enchanting with her heavy-handed application of dark shadow and mascara, under that glorious fringe of blonde hair. She’d never realized—no, accepted—how beautiful she was, always shrugging off his compliments with a fierce toss of her ponytail. Did she still not believe it?

  The happy couple practically danced down the center aisle, love glowing from their faces as they made their way to the back of the gathering. His sister shared a secret smile with him, flicking her head toward the reception area.

  He nodded and released the breath he’d been holding, filling his lungs with the wonderful aromas floating on the breeze. Roses. Cake. Coffee. Slow roasted pork.

  His belly growled loud enough to earn a glare from the old bat next to him, but he ignored her.

  He’d meet up with Remi in a minute. First, he planned to track down Jillian, who never once glanced in his direction as she practically flew down the aisle, hanging on to Camdon’s arm and smiling up at his twin with a familiarity that unsettled him, leaving his stomach churning from more than just hunger.

  He hadn’t expected a hero's welcome. But he never expected to find that his high school sweetheart had fallen in love with his brother, either.

  ****

  Thirteen years. Without one word to her, although she knew he’d called his brother plenty of times.

  Did he expect that she’d just waltz into his arms now that he was back?

  So not happening!

  Jillian clung to Camdon’s arm with her tightest firefighter grip, doing her best to sail past the long-legged man whose dark head perched higher than the rest of the guests seated in the last row, but that was proving harder than she imagined.

  Especially after catching sight of him during the march to the altar. Almost like an apparition, he’d hiked onto Remi’s property from the distance, his face hidden by the sun’s blinding glare. Weariness dogged his steps and stooped his shoulders. Fatigue dimmed his eyes. If the tattered jeans and shabby boots were any indication, he’d walked the whole way back to Harrison.

  She knew the moment he’d recognized her, after the ceremony had started. If she had her way, he wouldn’t see her now. Maybe if she didn’t glance in his direction, if she worked her way to the edge of the crowd, if she ignored the invisible tug that anchored her to him, she could sneak out of here unnoticed. Remi would understand.

  “Well, would you look at that? He made it back.” Camdon leaned down, close to her ear, pleasure deepening his voice. So much like his twin’s, yet Camdon’s voice never made her heart leap. Never even so much as caused a blip in her pulse.

  “It’ll all work out.” Camdon patted her hand, acknowledging her deep intake of breath. “Come on.”

  “But I’m with—” She tried to tug her hand away, but the man wouldn’t let go. She couldn’t escape now. Not without making a scene.

  Camdon led her toward the back then finally released her to yank the chair out from behind his brother. He curled a giant paw around his twin’s shoulder and pulled him into a hug.

  Caught off-guard, Carson swiveled. His boot tangled with the chair leg, sending him sprawling—

  Oh no! She didn’t have time to brace herself for impact. The breath squeezed from her lungs, and she staggered backwards, trying desperately to keep her balance. Her spiked heel snagged in the grass. Her arms flailed, windmill fashion. She closed her eyes, prepared for the pain—

  A long arm snaked around her back, saving her from smacking the ground, as effortlessly as if they were professional salsa dancers performing a complicated dip. She closed her eyes and breathed deep of freshly mowed grass, thankful that Camdon had kept her upright.

  She expected to smell his familiar woody fragrance, but all she took in was the scent of outdoors, of long walks in the sun, definitely masculine…

  But definitely not Camdon.

  Her lashes fluttered open.

  “May I have this dance?” Carson’s familiar face smiled down at her, tiny crinkles fanning out from those luscious emerald orbs. The brown speckled flakes seemed a bit faded with time, but they still twinkled. One arm still latched around her back. The other gripped his brother’s forearm.

  With extremely little effort, he hoisted her so that they both stood u
pright, but her head huddled close to his chest. So close that his short puffs of air tickled her cheeks.

  Her pulse ratcheted up to rocket speed, and dampness blanketed the palm that gripped the bouquet. How could he still have this effect on her? She wouldn’t allow it!

  She wedged a sweaty palm against his chest and gave him a not-so-gentle shove, brushing his hand away in the process. Then she tugged the awkward shoes off and gripped them with two fingers, her gaze sliding to the bouquet of now-withering buds. Blades of grass pricked her bare feet, sparking her ire even further.

  “I can take care of myself.” She’d survived a long time without his help, and she didn’t need it today. Immediately she regretted the words. Especially when he nodded, slow and uncertain, and clamped his lips together, a tic pulsing in his jaw. A lone tear trickled from his long lashes and tracked down his whisker-heavy cheek.

  Her heart twisted, and her heart puddled at her feet. She sucked in a breath, warning her primary organ to behave.

  He squeezed his lids closed and pressed a thumb and finger against them.

  “Jillian.” When his hand fell away, all traces of the moisture had disappeared, leaving his face void of emotion. Not his voice, though. The single whispered word was full of it.

  “It’s good to see you, Carson.” As much as she might want to, she couldn’t deny it. But she didn’t have to like it.

  “I’d have to say it’s a whole lot better to see you.” His eyes gleamed with appreciation. His lips quivered into a smile, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down along his throat.

  Obviously the man who stood before her now, allowing her to witness a glimpse of his vulnerable side, wasn’t the same cocky guy who’d thrown away her love years ago.

  Her only response was to puff her shoulders back, steeling her spine against the onslaught of good memories.

  Snuggling together at high school football games. Holding hands as they walked to school. Licking from the same chocolate-covered dipped cone on Saturday nights. Sharing kisses that singed the hair on her arms.