Long Road Home - Sweet Inspirational Romance

By Johanna Jenkins

Jennifer Miller is moving back home. After five years of living in New York City and pursuing an acting career that has all but dried up, Jennifer has moved back to the small town in Connecticut where she grew up. All ready bitter about her failed career, Jennifer also has to face her difficult and demanding father whose consistent health issues have become so serious that he has hired a live-in nurse. When Jennifer goes back to her family home, she is surprised to find that this nurse is nothing like what she expects. Not only is it a man, but, he is also handsome, funny and kind. Neither of them can deny their attraction. Even this attraction cannot keep Jennifer and her father from antagonizing one another, forcing Steve to play peacemaker between them. When her father's illness takes a turn for the worse, Jennifer must decide how deep her anger towards him truly runs. Can Steve help her find the forgiveness buried in her heart?

A Standalone Clean Romance Short Story with No Cliffhanger! 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clean & Wholesome Romance Club
• Release date: Nov 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386994268

Book preview

Long Road Home

Chapter 1

Jennifer

‘Y ou can do this,’ I think as I stare out the window of the little red car. I’m parked in the driveway of the very familiar yellow, farmhouse style home. The windows are framed with little curly decorations, the large, wrap around deck on the front of the house has been whitewashed since I was last here. It makes the house look newer, far newer, than it actually is.

‘You’ve been home a hundred times before,’ I tell myself. ‘This is no different.’

I know that’s a lie. This is different. This is not a visit. I’m not staying in town for a week or two and then heading back to the city. The truth is, I’ve had to give up on the city. Though, I haven’t admitted that yet, not even to myself. And I definitely won’t be admitting it to dad.

Instead, I’ll pretend that I’ve come back to my home town just to be closer to dad. Just to help out now that they’ve said the cancer’s come back.

I’ll ignore the little voice in my head which tells me that he doesn’t really need much help. He’s been diagnosed with this before and he came through it fine then. Even dad’s told me that the doctors sound positive he’ll make it through this time.

He told me not to make a fuss.

Seriously, he said over the phone before I came. Everyone’s making a big deal over nothing. I’ll get better. I always do.

Half of me believes him. He’s never let anyone, not even his doctors tell him what he can and can’t do.

The true reason I’m here is because I’ve got nowhere else to go. Even with roommates, rent in the city became too expensive for a young waitress/out of work actress. After five years trying to make it in the city, I knew it wasn’t going to happen.

When dad got sick again, I used it as a convenient excuse to leave my Broadway dreams behind without making it look like I’d given up.

That’s why I told everyone back in New York that I had to go home to help my father. None of them know the truth. That I’ve come home because I failed.

Sighing, I open the door to the car my friend Sarah lent me for the trip to my old home. Dad’s home.

I’ll have to get a car of my own eventually. Just like I’ll have to get a job in town. Sarah said she would put in a word for me at the local diner where she works. It won’t be much, but it’ll be something.

At least I won’t have to live with my Father. When I was asked to look after him, after he had his accident, that was my one condition. I know my dad and I can’t live under the same roof. It took a bit of convincing but, eventually, he agreed.

I’ll have to find my own place eventually too. I’m living with Sarah until then.

Walking up the winding path that leads to my old front door, I can’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia. I look down at the flowers in neat rows guiding the way. They’re the same ones that mom planted years before. Once I reach the first step, I have to stop and stare at the small hand prints in the concrete.

I was five years old when I made those. Just after dad laid the concrete for this new walkway. I suddenly feel