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The Summer Hideaway (The Lakeshore Chronicles, 7)
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About The Summer Hideaway
Product Description Susan Wiggs wrote her way into readers' hearts with stories of every woman's hopes and dreams. Now she returns with a touching tale of secrets and sacrifice, loss and redemption and a love too powerful to be denied. Never get attachedPrivate nurse and protected witness Claire Turner lives by this motto. Fleeing a treacherous past, she knows no other way. Never give upIn the twilight of his life, George Bellamy makes it his final wish to reconcile with an estranged brother. He and Claire journey to Willow Lakewhere it all went wrong for him fifty years ago. Never let goGeorge's grandson Ross is ruled by a fierce devotion to family and a deep mistrust of the mysterious Claire yet sparks fly whenever she's near. In the face of wrenching loss, amid the enchantment of Willow Lake, Ross and Claire dare to risk everything for love. www.susanwiggs.com Review "An emotionally gripping tale centered on family. Wiggs is back in top form." -Booklist "Wiggs's talent is reflected in her thoroughly believable characters as well as the way she recognizes the importance of family by blood or other ties. Highly recommended." -Library Journal "Wiggs is one of our best observers of stories of the heart. She knows how to capture emotion on virtually every page of every book." --Salem Statesman-Journal "Susan Wiggs paints the details of human relationships with the finesse of a master." --Jodi Picoult "Susan Wiggs writes with bright assurance, humor and compassion." --Luanne Rice About the Author Susan Wiggs is the author of many beloved bestsellers, including the popular Lakeshore Chronicles series. She has won many awards for her work, including a RITA from Romance Writers of America. Visit her website at www.SusanWiggs.com. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Ulster County, New York For a dying man, George Bellamy struck Claire as a fairly cheerful old guy. The dumbest show she'd ever heard was playing on the car radio, a chat hour called "Hootenanny," and George found it hilarious. He had a distinctive, infectious laugh that seemed to emanate from an invisible center and radiate outward. It started as a soft vibration, then crescendoed to a sound of pure happiness. And it wasn't just the radio show. George had recently received word that his grandson was coming home from the war in Afghanistan, and that added to his cheerfulness. He anticipated a reunion any day now. Very soon, she hoped, for both their sakes. "I can't wait to see Ross," said George. "He's my grandson. He's just been discharged from the army, and he's supposed to be on his way back." "I'm sure he'll come to see you straightaway," she assured him, pretending he had not just told her this an hour ago. The springtime foliage blurred past in a smear of colorthe pale green of leaves unfurling, the yellow trumpets of daffodils, the lavish purples and pinks of roadside wildflowers. She wondered if he was thinking about the fact that this would be his last springtime. Sometimes her patients' sadness over such things, the finality of it all, was unbearable. For now, George's expression was free of pain or stress. Although they'd only just met, she sensed he was going to be one of her more pleasant patients. In his stylish pressed slacks and golf shirt, he looked like any well-heeled gentleman heading away from the city for a few weeks. Now that he'd ceased all treatment, his hair was coming back in a glossy snow-white. At the moment, his coloring was very good. As a private-duty nurse specializing in palliative care for the terminally ill, she met all kinds of peopleand their families. Though her focus was the patient, he always came with a whole host of relatives. She hadn't met any of George's family yet; his sons and their families lived far away. For the time being, it was just her and George. He seemed very focused and determined at the moment. And thus far, he reported that he was pain free. She ind
