Ruth Logan Herne

Her Secret Daughter


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friend me on Facebook/Ruth Logan Herne or find me cooking at the Yankee Belle Café (www.yankeebellecafe.blogspot.com) with several other Love Inspired authors who love to share their joy of cooking, baking, God and romance with readers!

      Thank you for taking the time to read Josie and Jacob’s beautiful story, and may God bless you!

      Ruthy

      For I know him, that he will command his children and his household after him, and they shall keep the way of the Lord, to do justice and judgment; that the Lord may bring upon Abraham that which he hath spoken of him.

      —Genesis 18:19

      Jon Jamison...this one’s for you. A book about a wonderful father who truly loves his children and doesn’t scold too much when their grandmother gives them copious amounts of chocolate milk and treats. I love you, Jon!

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       About the Author

       Booklist

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Introduction

       Dear Reader

       Bible Verse

       Dedication

       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

       Epilogue

       Extract

       Chapter One

      Josie Gallagher gripped the letter from the county manager’s office with tight hands.

      She already knew the contents. Cruz Maldonado, her cousin Rory’s husband and a lawyer, had called with a heads-up the night before. She’d lost her battle against the hotel giant erecting a five-star resort just south of her popular lakeside barbecue joint. Her little place stood in the way of progress, which meant she’d have to relocate the Bayou Barbecue. She tore open the envelope, and her gaze landed on four distinct words. “Eminent domain petition granted.”

      Gone.

      Just like that. Her hard work, dedication and years of working with some of the best chefs in New Orleans had dissipated like a whiff of hickory smoke because the boat-launch site on her land was a better match for the major hotelier. Her lake access was about to become the property of Carrington Hotels & Inns for a tidy sum to help her launch a new spot, but new spots weren’t exactly a given along the waterfront, and real estate had gone sky-high in Grace Haven, New York.

      “Bad news?” Her cousin Kimberly came in through the side door of Josie’s tiny apartment. The three-room living quarters was attached to the Southern-style eatery she’d spent years building, which meant she wasn’t only out of a job. She was also out of a home. “Is that from the county?”

      Josie fought back a wealth of angry words she’d like to say. Clutching the stupid paper, she nodded. “Yup.”

      “Oh, Josie.” Kimberly hugged her, and it felt good to be hugged. “I’m so sorry. Are you sure we can’t continue to fight? Take it further?”

      They’d already gone the legal route Cruz had recommended, but he’d been honest from the beginning. If the county saw a need for this strip of land to provide the proper spacing for a major player, it’d have Carrington pay fair market value and take the land. End of story. “It’s done.”

      “How long have you got to vacate?”

      “Thirty days.”

      “Thirty days?” Anger darkened Kimberly’s gaze. She was nearly nine months pregnant with her second child, and Josie didn’t want to tip her into labor, but at least a new baby would be a happy end to an otherwise wretched day. “They can’t possibly expect you to take care of moving everything from your home and business and find a new place in thirty days. Can they? That’s preposterous, Josie, even for Southerners.”

      A deep and distinctly Southern drawl interrupted them from the screened door. “It would seem less preposterous had you taken the initial offer six months ago.”

      The women turned. A man stood at the door, midthirties. Crazy good-looking. He had an official-looking folder in his left hand,