âThatâs what youâve created here, and I will be forever grateful. I have been so alone. Unable to see direction for my life. Not sure if there even is one⦠When youâve loved and lost, you wonder who you are. Whether you can go on. Or even want to.â
Brady pondered whether he should continue reading the journal. The words were too emotionally raw. Some other person had come here full of the same thoughts and feelings he had. Unable to help himself, he turned back to the page.
âRegardless of how desolate I feel right now, I have to believe that somewhere out there is someone for me. Someone I can trust. Someone I can love.â
Brady stared for the longest time at the signature. Simple. Bare. Exposed. âNell.â
Nell, whoever she was, was more optimistic than he was. God, he hated his blatant, whining self-pity. If Nell had been willing to look for something, why couldnât he?
Absently he realized he was still holding the guest book, his forefinger marking Nellâs page. He reread the entry and a crazy idea entered his head. But no crazier than what heâd been doing.
Tomorrow, after he checked out, he would drive to Fayetteville to find Nell.
Dear Reader,
Have you ever experienced a time when all around you others seemed happy, productive and blessed, while you felt burdened by failure, disappointment or loss?
Recently my husband and I had a delightful getaway to a wonderfully hospitable B and B in Jessieville, Arkansas. In each room was a small journal in which previous occupants had recorded impressions of their stay, describing such benefits as reduced stress, renewal of relationships, a redirection of goalsâand, of course, special romantic times.
I couldnât help myself. My writerâs imagination kicked in. What if (the question with which every story idea begins) someone in the depths of despair were to read such entries? The contrast between the experiences of others and oneâs own emotional state could be devastating. Butâ¦what if there was a single entry echoing that same sense of isolation?
Thus was Brady Logan born. A man who has lost almost everything and turned his back on the rest. A man without purpose and direction until he reads that one journal entry that sends him on a quest to find a woman named Nellâwho may be the only one capable of understanding why he feels as he does.
It was a pleasure to send the urbane, successful Brady Logan to Fayetteville, Arkansas, a far cry from his Silicon Valley milieu. There he rediscovers the value of simple things and the healing power of new relationships, and, with Nellâs help, learns that life offers an abundance of second chances if one can put the past in perspective.
May Nell and Brady affirm your faith in new beginnings!
Laura Abbot
For my friend Jackie
with appreciation, affection and admiration
PROLOGUE
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
EPILOGUE
GRIPPING THE STEERING WHEEL of his Escalade, Brady Logan clenched his teeth and focused on the road ahead. The road away. He should give a damn. Most men would. But he felt nothing, not even relief.
When heâd made his final tour of the elaborate, expensive, now-empty house in the upscale Silicon Valley community where he, Brooke and their daughter Nicole had made their home, heâd been dry-eyed, detached. After locking the front door for the last time, heâd paused, studying the blinding white-stucco exterior, waiting for any emotion that would make him feel alive. Nothing. Only the familiar numbness.
Now, driving past the sleek four-story headquarters of L&S TechWare, nestled among the lushest landscaping an unlimited budget could provide, he still felt nothing.
Eight months ago he couldnât have imagined picking up like this and walking out. With only ingenious ideas, damn hard work and luck, he and his friend Carl Sutton had built a successful software company, now traded on the Nasdaq. Heâd married a beautiful blue-eyed California blonde, purchased the gadget-laden home and cars, hired a live-in housekeeper and yard man and been accepted for membership in clubs so prestigious you didnât inquire about initiation fees, you simply wrote the checkâa large one. In short, he had âarrived.â
The best things, though, money couldnât buy. Brooke had been far more than a trophy wife. She was his other half, full of fun where he was serious, understanding of his long hours and driven work ethic. When heâd thought life couldnât get any better, Nicole had come along and grown into a loving, giggly, remarkably unspoiled preteen whoâd won his heart in a way no one else ever had.
Brady gave L&S TechWare one last glance in the rearview mirror, then headed for the Interstate. It didnât matter where he was going. He should care, but he didnât. The important thing was that he was going.