In More Than Luck Required: A Journey of Healing, Hope, and Love, Lora Hamilton must confront her tragic past and embrace unexpected new connections on the Pacific Northwest coast, realizing that luck alone won’t be enough to heal her heart and rebuild her life. Below is an excerpt from the novel:

Chapter 1

Lora

Orca Park, Washington State

Situations that tug at your heart make you cave. Dad probably asked over fifteen times for her to put her past behind her. Consistently, her response was to leave the room.

His deathbed summons was an act of desperation. The plea from his watery, sunken eyes held her to him as he’d made his final request. His raspy voice wobbled while his icy fingers held her hand. Emotions had clogged her throat.

That day, her love for him wouldn’t allow her to leave.

Yet, every day since, she regretted the promise she’d made.

With a firm flick of her arm, her empty softshell suitcase bounced off the wall of the closet. To make room for her mom’s suitcase, she kicked it into the corner. She likely over-packed for a three-day stay.

Okay, Dad. I’m here to figure this out. Return to a more normal life.

She pushed on her low back to stretch her spine. Today…yes, it would be today, she’d begin her monumental task of rebuilding her life—though she had no clue how she’d go about doing that. To attack the tension in her upper back, she shifted her shoulders from side to side as she grimaced.

Heck! If only this were a vacation. God knows she desperately needed one.

That three-month grace period she’d given herself to grieve her dad had long ago expired. Her lack of follow through on fulfilling his request gnawed at her daily. Unfortunately, all the excuses she’d been using had piled on the guilt.

And, darn it, guilt was as familiar to her as putting on her shoes every morning.

Across the room, Mom unpacked in that slow, deliberately precise way she did when something bothered her. It was unlikely she would speak her mind, though.

Undoubtedly, Mom’s distress had come from her. Her retreating into herself to brood during the last half of their drive seemed to close off conversation.

Great! Something else to feel guilty about.

To distract herself from her negative mental chatter, she walked over to gaze out their third-story window at the Pacific Northwest beach she loved. They’d vacationed there annually until she left for college. After that, summer jobs made it impossible to return.

She slowly released a deep breath. It hadn’t been fair closing herself off like that. Yet, as the mileposts ticked by, dread consumed her. It shouldn’t have surprised either of them she’d be moody over her purpose for coming. Yet, this wasn’t how she wanted their first mother/daughter trip to start off.

It’d be best if she ditched her anger toward Dad. It was stupid and useless. He’d asked because he loved her. There wasn’t anything wrong with him not wanting her to live her life alone. He meant well, but…hadn’t he realized how miserable she’d be, trying to find some sort of redemption for something she felt responsible for?

She bounced the side of her fist on the windowsill, fighting thoughts of premature defeat. No, a promise is a promise, Dad.

A normal life.

What was that supposed to look like for someone who lost almost everyone she loved and what defined her? She had cherished being a wife, mother, and homemaker. Whatever remained after didn’t seem to matter much. Dad hadn’t understood it wasn’t just what she lost that prevented her from moving on; it was the how.

Could she ever move forward if she couldn’t forgive herself?

She pulled her focus back to the sliver of beach visible beyond the cliff and the massive blue sky that covered the vista. This salt water beach had a special energy she wanted to feel and absorb. It called to her. Could it provide the direction she needed to move forward?

“Got ourselves a nice day for early spring. Ready for the beach, Mom?”

Mom briefly assessed her with eyes void of emotion.

“I’ll change my shoes and get my coat.”

When Mom returned to her slow-motion mode while putting on her shoes, trickles of concern surfaced again. Something was going on with her.

As they walked out the door, a heavy sigh slipped from Mom’s lips. As they continued, she followed two arms-lengths behind. By the time they reached the lobby, her heart rate rocketed. That hyper-speed beat accompanied her thoughts of what she needed to accomplish over the next three days. Automatically, her mind searched for excuses to stall the process.

Dad’s request felt like a nagging heel blister, the kind no matter which shoes you wore it always made its presence known.

When they reached the backside of the inn, where the steps down to the beach were located, she glanced toward the flower bed which lined the back wall. One lone white daisy in a sea of green stems tugged her lips into a smile. The first bloom of the season. During their summers there, cheerful white daisies with yellow centers filled that bed. Those dancing daisies had always made her smile and would raise her above any teenage angst.

With her eyes going back to following her mom, she noticed the heaviness in her stride. The slouch of Mom’s shoulders worried her.

What was troubling her?

Booking this trip came from an out-of-the-blue impulse. She’d hoped Orca Park would be a place she could clear her head. She’d thought having Mom come along might be good for her, too. Maybe she’d been wrong?

When she reached the top of the stairs, she paused before descending. A generous inhale brought the nostalgic aroma of sea air—that mixture of beached marine life and salty brine carried along through moist droplets she could both taste and smell.

As she reached the last step down, the old wooden plank creaked its resistance. When her right foot landed on dry sand, the tightness in her jaw released. As the left foot joined the right, she enjoyed the sinking sensation as the sand rose to cradle her shoes. Her lips curved upward as her body did a silent, ahh.

When she extended her hand, her mom reciprocated with hers. They held hands as they walked away from the inn and the waterfront facing homes. The beach terrain changed as they moved closer to the edge of the water. The soft, sandy upper beach transitioned into rocks, driftwood and slippery algae-covered surfaces.

She squeezed her mom’s hand. “Is it too soon to come back to the memories we made here with Dad?”

Mom stopped. Her chin dropped to her chest. When she spoke, her voice broke. “I wanted…I wanted my mind to go to the happy times we’d had here, but—” She shook her head as her eyes glistened with emotion. “After Dad’s diagnosis, we came here to talk about what was ahead of us.” Her nostrils flared as she sucked in a breath.

“Oh, I…I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“No, sweetheart, I wanted to. One thing your dad considered unfinished was helping you move on from what happened to Maggie, and what you went through with that husband of yours.” She shook her head. “I’ve been so angry at Frank.”

“Mom, I hated disappointing Dad, but it was the headspace I’ve been in. I couldn’t—Well, the only way I could keep it together was to wall myself off.”

“Yes, I know. Yet, Dad not being able to help you grieved him so much. He always had a gift for helping young people. However, you were so resistant. I know a dying request was…unfair, but he didn’t know what else to do. You’d given him no other option.”

Mom stepped in front of her. “You’ve suffered too long. When you wanted to come here, I agreed because I thought coming here would lead to a breakthrough.”

She raised a questioning brow. A breakthrough? Here?

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