“That’s not the worst of it.”
“You don’t have to talk about this unless you want to.”
“I don’t want to. I need to.” He sucked an audible breath through his teeth. “It isn’t pretty.”
She touched his arm, soft brown eyes full of compassion. “Then tell me, Hayden. What happened here that hurt you so terribly? Let me help you carry it.”
He’d carried his past and the memories of Dora Lee’s abuse like a weight that grew heavier with each passing year. At Carrie’s quiet offer, the burden seemed to ease. That was the magic of Carrie’s love. He could tell her. He knew intuitively that he could trust her with everything. Even with Hayden Briggs.
No wonder he’d fallen in love with her.
He sighed, the sound mingling with the sigh of the breeze blowing through the red-and-yellow leaves. It was indeed beautiful here with fall flowers coloring the grass and birds singing in the trees. Nothing here could harm him anymore.
“She drowned my dog here, too,” he said, throat tight with memory. “I fought her that day, and when Blackie Boy could swim no more and went under for the last agonizing time...” He hesitated, still seeing the last desperate bubbles rise and fade. “She shoved me into the well with him. I was nine.”
“Oh, dear Lord. That’s despicable. How did you survive?”
“She finally threw down a rope, but not before I’d gone under enough times to satisfy her fury. After that, I knew she hated me enough to let me die.”
“But you thrived instead.”
He gazed at her. With wonder in his tone, he admitted what he’d never considered before, what she made him see. “I guess I did.”
“You survived. You overcame and you thrived. You became the good and decent, amazing, gifted, successful man you are today in spite of enduring her unspeakable evil. She scarred you, but she didn’t ruin you.”
“I never looked at it that way. I thought—”
“You thought people would judge you by her.”
“Yes.” He saw now, through Carrie’s eyes and wisdom, how wrong he’d been. Some might have looked down on him, but those that mattered wouldn’t have. He would never shout his past from the rooftops, but he didn’t have to be a slave to it, either.
A warm sun broke through the misty fog as the clouds of the past lifted from his life.
Words from his dreams came back to him. He could no more change where he was born, who raised him or what had happened to him here than Thaddeus could change his Yankee roots. Like Thad and Josie, he had risen above his roots, and if he was the man he wanted to be, the man Carrie believed he was, he would stick around to help Brody do the same.
So that’s what the dreams had been trying to tell him.
The past, his roots, did not define him. Nor did they control his future.
A bird fluttered to a landing on top of the well’s crossbar and lifted her head in song.
He watched the small warbler, letting the breeze cleanse him, letting go of the pain. The scars, like Thad’s, would remain, but he would use them as stepping-stones instead of stumbling blocks.
“Are you all right?” Carrie asked gently, her eyes searching his, concerned and full of a love that humbled him.
“More than all right.” He gazed tenderly at the woman who’d changed him, who’d given him the courage to be himself, who loved him anyway.
Her mouth curved, and he bent to kiss it. Sweet and soft and giving like her. “I love you, Carrie.”
The words he’d never said to anyone else in his life were the final catharsis.
With an arm draped over Carrie’s shoulders, he turned to stare at the well and imagined he saw the sad, frightened boy he’d once been standing there, waiting for him. Whether in his spirit or his mind, he didn’t know, but he beckoned to the child, watched the tattered, battered Hayden break away from the well and walk toward him.
When the child stood before him, Hayden smiled a welcome, and Hayden Briggs, the hurting boy, melded into Hayden Winters, the damaged man.
And he was no longer a figment of his own imagination.
EPILOGUE
BRODY THOMSON HEARD his father come inside the house. It was Friday. He’d always hated Fridays.
“Brody!”
Brody ran the comb through his hair once more and then slapped at the cowlick before giving up and going to greet his father. Things were different since they’d learned about Mama. Daddy was going to AA and anger management, and he hadn’t been drunk in a long time. Miss Carrie told him to give the old man a chance.
Still, out of long habit, he paused in the doorway, gauging his father’s mood.
His dad stood in the center of the living room, clear-eyed and steady in his blue work shirt.
“You’re home from work early,” Brody said. What he meant was that his father hadn’t gone to the bar on Second Street, and his daddy knew it.
“I don’t do that anymore, son.”
Brody nodded once in acknowledgment.
His father shifted on his work boots, nervous-like and kind of awkward. The way Brody felt when he had to give an oral report in front of the whole class.
“I been thinking, Brody. I talked to that counselor and learned some stuff.” He huffed a short laugh, like something was funny but it wasn’t. “I made a lot of mistakes in my time. Treated you bad. Treated your mama bad. I did wrong.”
Brody swallowed, unsure of what to say.
“That lizard you had—”
“Max.”
“Yeah. Max. I shouldn’t have done that.” He cleared his throat. “So, what I’m trying to say is, if you’d be wanting to get another lizard or maybe a pup or something, I’d be okay with it.”
Hope rising faster than a hot air balloon on a windy day, Brody said, “You mean it? A puppy? Could he sleep in my room?”
His dad rubbed his whiskers and made a scrapey sound. “I guess that would be fine. If you train him and take care of him.”
“I will. I promise.” He was breathless with excitement so that he felt as if his heart was going to jump right out of his chest. A puppy. A real puppy.
“How about tomorrow? We could go down to the shelter and take a look.”
The tension left Brody’s shoulders. This was real. Really real. “You’re not ever going to drink again—are you, Daddy?”
His father licked his lips, but his eyes remained steady. “Two months without a drop. I won’t stop now. I promise you, son. You and me, we’re a family. We had fun on that fishing trip, didn’t we?”
A grin snuck up on Brody’s mouth. They’d rented a boat, and Daddy brought pop instead of beer. And they’d caught a mess of catfish for supper. “Yes, sir.”
“You’re just like your sweet mama. Good to the bone. I got some pictures of her and you put up. That preacher down at the church said it was time I dealt with it. I know he’s right. Want to see them?”
Brody’s throat thickened with tears. “Yes, sir. I sure do.”
“All right, then. Let’s order a pizza for supper.” His father draped an arm around him and tugged him close. “And I’ll tell you about the finest woman I ever knew.”
Brody sighed against his father. Fridays weren’t so bad after all.
* * *
ON A MILD December Saturday, with the antebellum parlor of Peach Orchard Inn draped in tulle, bedazzled with white lights and candles and filled with family and close friends, the beautiful innkeeper Julia Presley pledged her troth to a resplendent Eli Donovan.
In a pink-peach gown accented with gold and white, she’d floated down the staircase, seeing only one person in the room of many. Eli gazed up at her, love in his eyes strong enough to weather anything. Beside him stood Alex, his son, in a matching black tux, the ring box in his hand.
&nb
sp; It was a beautiful ceremony full of joy.
Hayden sat on the bride’s side of the double row of white chairs next to Carrie, feeling more at home here among these new acquaintances than anywhere he’d ever been. He glanced at Carrie’s profile, crediting her. Home was wherever she was.
She turned her head, smiling, and his chest swelled to know this beautiful, smart woman loved both Hayden Briggs and Hayden Winters. He’d always wondered how loving and being loved would feel.
It felt better than he’d imagined.
She filled the emptiness inside him, lit the dark places and completed him in ways he hadn’t known were possible.
He took her hand and tugged it to his thigh, holding her there, needing to be close, as he alternated between watching Carrie and observing the tender exchange of vows.
When Julia and Eli kissed to seal their love and then bent to kiss Alex on opposite cheeks, applause sounded. Tears streamed down Julia’s face, and Alex hugged her before Eli pulled her up to wipe away her tears and kiss her again. Tenderly, sweetly, and with the passion of a man grateful for the love of his woman. A sigh ran through the crowd.
Hayden understood that kind of gratitude.
Afterward, as the wedding party made their way outside to the reception tent near Michael’s garden, Hayden and Carrie followed.
“Beautiful, wasn’t it?” Her eyelashes glimmered with happy tears.
“Love does that,” he said.
“Makes everything beautiful?”
“Heals the hurt that’s gone before.” He paused on the back veranda. Soft inside from the romantic ceremony, he needed a moment just for the two of them. “You did that for me.”
“I never want anything to hurt you again.” Her fingertips caressed his face and sent a shiver of pleasure through him. “I love you too much.”
He covered her hand with his, loving her touch. “Words aren’t big enough, Carrie. Even love doesn’t seem strong enough for what I feel for you.”
“A writer without words.” She smiled into his eyes. “Did you finish the book?”
“Emailed to my editor this morning. Maybe Josie and Thaddeus will leave me alone now.”
“Your dad would be pleased.”
“I think so, too. Maybe a little embarrassed. He was a quiet, humble man, but I’m proud to be his son. I want to honor him.”
He’d worried about changing genres and destroying his suspense career, but Carrie had encouraged him to write the historical book under his father’s name and continue writing his thrillers as Hayden Winters. His agent and editor loved the idea, though both had been surprised that the very private author would take such a step of revelation.
He wouldn’t have without Carrie. Seeing her reaction to Dora Lee, feeling her love wrap around him in that crucial moment gave him strength to do what he thought he couldn’t.
“It may not sell more than a dozen copies.” Sales mattered, but they weren’t everything. Not this time. He was doing this for his dad. And the dream people.
She laughed gently, lovingly mocking his uncertainty. “It’s marvelous. Of course it will sell.”
“I’m grateful to them. Josie and Thad.” He gave her a glance, knowing she’d understand. “If not for them...”
“I like that they came to you to tell their story. Not that I understand how it happened.”
“You don’t think I’m a little left of center because I somehow connected to a couple that lived more than a hundred years ago?” This time he teased. He was no longer worried about losing his sanity, not with Carrie to balance him.
“If not for the dreams, you might have been stuck in your past forever. Alone. And I would have lost you.” She draped her arms around his neck. “You needed their message, Hayden. You needed to accept yourself and let go of the past, just as Josie had to accept Thaddeus and let go of hers.”
“I needed them, and they needed me to share their story, as bizarre as that sounds.”
“Will you write the missing-wife thriller now?”
“That’s the plan, and with a twist you won’t see coming.”
She tilted her head. “Like what?”
“You’ll have to buy the book to find out.”
“Hayden!” She laughed and pulled away. “I can’t wait that long.”
He caught her hand and tugged her back. “I’m going to New York next week on business. If you come with me, I’ll tell you.”
“Bribery. I like it.”
“So you will?”
“You know I hate airplanes.”
“Me, too. Let’s hate them together.” He rocked her back and forth in his arms to the slow melody floating out of the reception tent. “The city is beautiful all dressed up for Christmas. I want to show it to you.”
“We could see the Rockettes?”
“Anything you want.”
“You,” she breathed. “All I want is you.”
“You have me. Body and soul and warped mind.” He touched his nose to hers and smiled tenderly. “I’ll buy you gardenias and chase away the storms and never let anything scare you.”
Her lips curved, igniting that one dimple. “I learned something from Josie and Thad, too, you know. I refuse to be afraid of life anymore.”
“Is that a yes?”
She gave one short nod. “New York, here we come.”
“Then back home for Christmas with your family. Can’t miss that.”
Home. At last. A writer could work anywhere, and Hayden knew deep in his soul, he’d found his place right here in Tennessee with Carrie.
Full of wonder and gratitude and manifest joy, he pulled her close enough to feel the rhythm of her heart and kissed her, deep and long and with all the pent-up love she’d released in him.
Time stood still. The music faded. And he noticed neither cold weather nor people moving around. His whole world centered on one woman.
When the kiss ended, he held her with his eyes. No words were needed. All the loneliness, the lies and fear were gone.
Carrie’s love had made him real and set him free.
* * * * *
A reunion between two old acquaintances could lead to love—if only the secrets of the past remain where they belong...
Read on for a sneak peek at THE INNKEEPER’S SISTER by New York Times bestselling author Linda Goodnight.
“Prolific Macomber is known for her portrayals of ordinary women in small-town America. [She is] an icon of the genre.”
—Publishers Weekly
Be sure to read every story in the Midnight Sons series from #1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber:
Alaska Skies
Alaska Nights
Alaska Home
Looking for more warm and welcoming romance from Debbie Macomber? Don’t miss a single heartfelt moment in her beloved Blossom Street series:
The Shop on Blossom Street
A Good Yarn
Susannah’s Garden
Back on Blossom Street
Twenty Wishes
Summer on Blossom Street
Hannah’s List
A Turn in the Road
“These involving stories, along with Macomber’s familiar characters, continue the Blossom Street themes...that readers find so moving.”
—Booklist
Or visit the delightful town of Cedar Cove, where good friends, family and a little bit of romance are always waiting just around the corner.
16 Lighthouse Road
204 Rosewood Lane
311 Pelican Court
44 Cranberry Point
50 Harbor Street
6 Rainier Drive
74 Seaside Avenue
8 Sandpiper Way
92 Pacific Boulevard
1022 Evergreen Place
Christmas in Cedar Cove
1105 Yakima Street
1225 Christmas Tree Lane
“Debbie Macomber writes characters who are as warm and funny as your best friends.”
—New York Times bestselling author Susan Wiggs
Join the Bloomfield sisters as they return home to Orchard Valley, Oregon, and find love when they least expect it!
Orchard Valley Grooms
Orchard Valley Brides
Complete your collection today!
* * *
Did you know that Harlequin My Rewards members earn FREE books and more?
Join
www.HarlequinMyRewards.com
today to start earning your FREE books!
* * *
Connect with us on wwww.Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Other ways to keep in touch:
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
HarlequinBlog.com
New York Times bestselling author Linda Goodnight invites you to Honey Ridge, Tennessee, where Southern hospitality and sweet peach tea beckon, and where long-buried secrets lead to some startling realizations...
The Innkeeper’s Sister
Grayson Blake always has a purpose—and never a moment to lose. He’s come home to Honey Ridge to convert a historic gristmill into a restaurant, but his plans crumble like Tennessee clay when the excavation of a skeleton unearths a Civil War mystery...and leads him back to a beautiful and familiar stranger.
Once a ballet dancer, now co-owner of the Peach Orchard Inn, Valery Carter harbors pain as deep as the secrets buried beneath the mill. A bright facade can’t erase her regrets any more than a glass of bourbon can restore what she’s lost. But spending time with Grayson offers Valery a chance to let go of her past and imagine a happier future. And with the discovery of hidden messages in aged sheet music, both their hearts begin to open. Bound by attraction, and compelled to resolve an old crime that links the inn and the mill, Grayson and Valery encounter a song of hurt, truth...and hope.