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Cooper glanced at Morgan and saw her surprise.
“Oh,” Morgan replied. “I… We thought you might have been the V. Ploux signed at the bottom of each entry. So this isn’t your journal?”
Again, Veronique shook her head. “No.” Her voice was a soft whisper as she took the book and ran her fingers over the spine. She opened the book and turned several pages, her bottom lip quivering slightly. “But I do know who it belonged to.”
For several long moments, Veronique was silent, and then she set the journal on the table between them and sat back with her iced tea. “This belonged to my sister, Valerie.”
“Oh.” Morgan leaned forward. “Where can we find Valerie?”
Veronique shook her head, putting down her glass of tea. “My dear sister passed away when she was thirty-two.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cooper replied.
“Yes. It was a tragedy, you know. She was just getting her life back on track after…” Veronique looked pained. “Well, to be frank, after Thomas McLaren broke her heart and left her high and dry with a baby girl, no money, and a ruined reputation. The McLarens never claimed Thomas’s child as their own. He left for the Korean War and never came back.”
Cooper could see this wasn’t the happy story Morgan had been expecting. “Where is their child?”
Veronique sighed. “Her daughter was beautiful. Blonde, blue eyes, and the sweetest smile you could imagine. Valerie called her Angelique, but we all called her Angel. She married a man from Michigan, John Blackwell. He was from a well to do family. A good-looking marine, and they were so in love. She married young and had three boys, and then…” Veronique reached for her iced tea and took another sip.
“She was killed the night of her thirty-second birthday. A drunk driver went through an intersection, and Angel left three young boys behind.”
Morgan’s face was white, and Cooper slid his arm around her. “We’re sorry to hear that,” he murmured.
“Thank you.” Veronique sighed. “Life wasn’t kind to Valerie or her offspring. I often wonder what happened to those boys. After the accident, John didn’t want much to do with anyone, let alone a family he barely knew. I tried to keep in touch, but I think I reminded him too much of the woman he loved.” She paused, her eyes misted. “Those boys would be in their late twenties to mid-thirties now.”
She suddenly got to her feet. “Will you look at the time. I need to get to church.”
“Of course.” Cooper got to his feet. Morgan took a few seconds, her concern genuine.
“I’m so sorry. I know what it’s like to lose someone tragically. To never have the chance to say good-bye.”
Veronique reached for Morgan and took her hands between hers. “Life is life. It’s not cut-and-dried. It’s not clean edges and perfect circles. It’s imperfect and lovely and heartbreaking and tragic. It’s full of laughter and tears and pain and longing. The secret to living life the way God intended is for each and every one of us never to take for granted this gift we’ve been given.”
She patted Morgan’s hand. “I can see this young man loves you, and I see the same in you. T
hink of love like the garden it is. It’s a gift, but it’s fragile. It needs maintenance. Patience. Sacrifice. So take care of it.” She smiled at Cooper. “Take care of each other.”
“That’s the plan,” Cooper said. He nodded to the leather-bound journal on the table. “Please keep this.”
Veronique picked it up and cradled it against her chest. “Thank you.” Her eyes narrowed a bit. “What happened to the McLarens?”
“They didn’t take care of their garden,” Morgan said quietly.
There was a moment of silence, and then Veronique gave them a sad smile. “Well, that’s just heartbreaking, isn’t it?”
Two hours later, Cooper and Morgan were at a small airport outside the city. He’d leased a private jet, and they were just about to board. The wind had picked up, and Morgan’s hair flew all over the place. His gut tightened. God, he loved her hair.
She studied the plane and then excitedly grabbed his hand, and damn but he’d lease a plane every day of the year just to get that look. “Where are we going?”
He’d kept her in the dark on purpose. Just for this moment.
“How does Ireland sound?”
“Ireland?” She laughed, a full-on chuckle that died when her eyes swept up.
Cooper stepped closer. He dropped a kiss to her mouth. A sweet but hungry kiss that had everything inside him tightening with need. He pulled her closer, held her tighter, and then whispered in her ear, “I thought it would be the perfect place for us to spend our honeymoon.”
She stilled in his arms, and he cupped her face, because no way in hell was he missing this. He needed to see her.
