Honor MacKenzie is just rebuilding her life when she meets
Matt Phillips. Oh, she knows about him, a Pulitzer Prize
winning journalist. But at their first meeting, she takes an
instant dislike for him just because he is associated with
the news media. Another journalist almost destroyed her
dream of becoming a firefighter to honor her fiancee who
died in 9-11 attacks. She now trains Search and Rescue dogs
and also teaches SAR classes.
Matt is also rebuilding his life, with his twin ten year old
boys, who were born the day his wife died giving birth. It
isn't easy juggling a career and being the only parent. He
doesn't have time for a social life. But Matt is attracted
to Honor, and he doesn't understand it. It's been so long
since he thought about another woman the way he thought
about his wife.
When Matt invites Honor over for an evening of pizza and
movies with the boys, she learns from them that she is the
first woman Matt has ever brought into their home. This
scares Honor, as she is not sure where this relationship
might go or if she wants a relationship at all. But Honor
finds Matt to be a very caring person and she loves his
boys. When more frequent get-togethers occur, Honor begins
to think that it might not be good for the boys to find out
about her past. She hasn't shared it with Matt, but it would
be easy enough for him to find out what happened.
Honor decides to put distance between them when she
unexpectedly takes another job and moves from Baltimore to
New York. Matt's heart is broken and the boys are very
disappointed. They all miss her so. Matt gives her time and
space to sort out her feelings. Will Honor return? Will
there be a happy ending to their story?
HONOR REDEEMED is the second book in Loree Lough's First
Responders Series. It is a powerful story that explores some
of the gray areas of life, when decisions are not always
easy and the ones you make may have to be for the good of
others, not necessarily for yourself. Get a few tissues
ready before you begin reading.
"Honor Mackenzie works hard guarding the dark secrets of her past as she does training Search and Rescue (SAR) dogs. As for reporter Matt Phillips, not even his former SAR work is as important as protecting his twins. Then a jumbo jet crash puts them face-to-face at the grisly scene--and forces Matt and Honor to reconsidertheir long-standing ""single forever"" status. Yet Matt has issues with Honor’s past, and is still struggling with them when he's told Honor has disappeared during a rescue effort. Matt leads the search team, desparate to find Honor before a blizzard moves in. But even if he does, will they find their way back to each other or go back to living life alone? "
Excerpt
2:00 November 1 Patapsco State Park, near Baltimore, Maryland Honor Mackenzie shivered, and not just because the temper- ature had dipped to near-freezing. The far-off wail of a coyote harmonized with the moaning wind, and the creak of leafless trees only intensified the ghostly atmosphere. Crisscrossing beams of high-powered flashlights sliced through the sleety black haze and shimmered from the river's surface. The Patapsco River seemed alive tonight, pulsing and undulating like a monstrous turbid snake. From deep in the woods, Honor felt the cagey stares of a thousand unblinking eyes and shivered again as she panned a wide arc, walking backward every few steps; the crash had probably sent every critter scurrying . . . but that's what she'd told herself those scary hours with Uncle Mike, and the night a feral dog bul- leted from the underbrush, teeth bared and snarling and— "Is it just me," Elton huffed, jogging up beside her, "or do I smell gas?" She jumped, then jumped again to make the first one look like an attempt to maneuver around a tree root. "Maybe it's that swill you claim takes off the chill." Elton was a good guy but got way too much pleasure from scaring her out of her shoes. A puckish grin warned her to brace herself, but before he could deliver a biting comeback, a frantic baritone blasted through the fog: "Over here!" "Sending up a flare," hollered another. Most of the Boeing 747 that plummeted from the mid- November sky during rush hour had landed square in the middle of I-95. The cops shut down all lanes in both directions to enable the two available medevac copters to airlift passengers of the airliner—and those in the vehicles it had crushed—to Baltimore's shock trauma. And because eyewitnesses reported seeing fiery bits of the plane falling due north of the explosion, Honor's search and rescue squad was sent into Patapsco State Park. Her unit included a couple of young guys just return- ing from Texas, where they'd earned wilderness certifications. Like thoroughbreds at the gate, both chomped at the bit to prove they could keep up with more experienced personnel. With any luck, they hadn't yet heard the rumors about her past and wouldn't pummel her with the usual acerbic questions when the mission ended. The scent of jet fuel grew stronger with every step, and she thanked God for the sleet. Yes, it added to their physical discomforts, but it would douse any embers hiding in the wreckage. Helped her focus on the task, instead of potential taunts, too. Elton stopped walking so fast that his boots sent up a spray of damp leaves. His voice was barely a whisper when he grated, "Oh, my God!" Honor followed his line of vision. "Oh, my God" was right. Honor Redeemed There, in the clearing a few yards to their left, was the tail section of the airliner. Like a beached whale, it teetered belly up on the bank, one mangled wing pointing skyward, the top half of the airline's logo submerged in riverbed muck. Twin witch-finger pillars of smoke spiraled upward, as if reaching for the treetops in a last-ditch attempt to pull itself free of the sludge. A nanosecond later, they were on the move again, hop- ping over rivulets carved into the earth by rushing rainwater, ducking under low-lying pine boughs as they picked their way closer. Two pink palms slapped against a window, and between them, the bloodied and terrified face of a boy no more than ten. The sight startled Elton so badly that he lost his footing in the slimy mud. Arms windmilling, he staggered backward a step or two before regaining his balance. "Donaldson!" he bellowed. "Kent? That you?" "No," Elton snarled, "it's your old maid auntie." He muttered something under his breath, then added, "Fire up the radio. Let 'em know we need more boots on the ground. And equip- ment, on the double. We've got survivors!" Well, at least one survivor, Honor thought, closing in on the craft. She hopped onto the rain-slicked wing and inched nearer the window, then lay her palm against the glass and matched the kid's handprint, finger for finger. "You're okay," she said, trying to look like she believed it. Not an easy feat, now that she'd aimed her flashlight's beam over his shoul- der. Only God knew what he'd seen, or which of his family members lay motionless at his feet. She'd seen that fran- tic expression before, and it reminded her of the day when the Susquehanna overflowed its banks and slammed through a Boy Scout camp. After hours of searching for one still-missing kid, something made her look up, and she found him, clinging to a tree. Though the water had receded, he'd been too frantic to climb down. She'd probably said "Don't be scared" a dozen times before he found his voice. "Why do grown-ups always say dumb things like that?" he'd demanded. And she'd never uttered the words again. "You're okay," she repeated now. "Help is on the way." "Mackenzie, get down from there." The poor kid's pleading, teary eyes locked with hers, seeking reassurance and hope, and she couldn't look away. Wouldn't walk away, either. In the window's reflection, she saw Elton behind her, point- ing toward the biggest column of smoke. "I'm dead serious, Mack. Get down from there," he repeated, this time through clenched teeth. A second later, the heat of yellow and orange flames flared on her right. The boy saw it, too, as evidenced by a pitiful wail that, because of the thick, double-paned window, no one out- side the airplane could hear. "Help is coming," she said again. And please God, she prayed, let it get here fast.
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