Probably Erik. Erik worked a lot of nights.
I liked Erik. He had always been nice to me.
If not Erik . . . maybe Ann. Sometimes Ann worked nights. Ann had always been nice, too.
I’d call Gram in the morning. Ask her if we could have lunch together. Then I’d go to Windsong. See my mother. Ask her to hold me. For a long, long time . . .
I tried to picture it, but instead of my mother’s arms around me, I saw William’s. Felt the strength of him as he’d lifted me and carried me out of the ravine. Smelled his cologne as he’d worn it on that first day.
Boss.
“No.” I had to be strong. Can’t turn back . . . I just wanted to go home.
Even as I conjured the images—Winter Park, Park Avenue, the office, my condo in Orlando—visions of Testament rose to the surface. Main Street and ice-cream cones, dusty roads leading to Miss Helen’s, a long drive winding through Decker Ranch, the front of the cottage with its wide windows that always seemed to welcome me home.
Home.
The tree-lined drive leading to William’s home. The dog on the front porch. The scent of rain and spice-scented candles.
I turned on the radio, hoping to distract myself, but was met with nothing but static.
I pressed Scan. Music immediately filled my car. William’s kind of music. And Rob’s. And Bri’s . . .
The song about the redneck . . .
“Great-granny, girl,” I said out loud.
Then I laughed. And turned the car around.
Magically—almost—if I believed in such things—my car found the right street, then the dirt road that stretched to William’s parents’ home. Beyond it, the guesthouse.
I slowed the car, partly wanting to savor the moment, and partly hoping I was wrong. Hoping that same voice would come through the radio and tell me to turn around. That I was mistaken. Testament was not my home. Winter Park was.
There was safety in Winter Park—a place where it was okay to be Ashlynne Rothschild. Here . . . here there was no safety. None at all. Here I would live at risk. Of the fallout from some light-skinned people, who might not like knowing they were related to people with darker complexion. Or those who felt we should all turn a blind eye, when their beloved coach should be fired at the very least, and at the very best, prosecuted. Or any who believed it unfair that their golden boy’s veneer was tarnished.
Most of all, I’d live at risk of falling so head over hills in love, I could never go back home.
But . . . I was home. With every yard I drove, I knew it. Felt it in my bones. In my spirit. Home in Testament. Even thinking it felt . . . wonderful.
Natural. Like that first day in the church. As though I’d been here forever.
Or would be here for the rest of my life.
I drove around to the back of the house and parked my car in the same place as before. Will stepped out on the porch, his dog behind him. He reached down, gave Rufus a good pat, then leaned against the railing.
I got out of the car.
For long moments, we stared at each other. He looked tired. Beat. Unsure of what life held tomorrow.
I felt certain I didn’t look much different, but I hoped he’d see past that. See something—someone—he wanted. If nothing else, as a business partner.
“How’d you know where to find me?” he finally asked.
I shrugged. “A hunch.”
“Did you forget something?”
“Myself.”
“Meaning?”
I took a step. “I want to . . . I don’t want to . . .” I took another step. “I want to make a go of it. Here. With the magazine. And . . .”
“And?”
I took another step and stared risk in the face, keeping my eyes on his—without the hat, unshaded. “You?”
Rufus dropped onto the planking of the porch, rested his head on his front paws as though he’d seen this scene before, in about a hundred movies.
I smiled. Will smiled back. He moved down to the top step. “You’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest. You know that, right?”
“Did you read it all? Everything in the flash drives?”
“I did.”
I clasped my hands in front of me. “And what would you do? If you were me?”
He raised his chin. Looked to the right, to the gazebo and the lake. “I think,” he said, returning his attention to me, “that I’d try sticking around this time. To see how it all turned out.”
“What about you and Felicia?”
His brow furrowed. “What about us?”
“Did you call her?”
“Not yet.”
“When you do . . . do you think you’d . . . like to . . . I mean . . .”
“Start over with her?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
Heavenly relief bloomed from somewhere deep inside me. I looked at my shoes. The hiking boots. Back up to Will. “Promise to take me to Chimney Rock?”
Mischief played in his eyes. “The air can get pretty thin up there.” He came down another step.
“Do you know CPR?”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
I took in a deep breath—inhaled the faint scent of his cologne.
Bond. No. 9. Wall Street. The curlicue stirred.
“You know, I didn’t come back just for you.”
Will threw back his head and laughed.
“Because—once I get out of the mess I’ve made for myself—I’ve got some big plans for Hunting Grounds & Garden Parties.”
One brow shot up.
“Stories I want to write,” I said past a giggle. “You know . . . the museum, the school bus ministry you have going . . . and Harvest Day. I wouldn’t want to miss the parade.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t.”
I exhaled, fighting for the next best thing to say. But nothing came to mind until I took another step and said, “Yoogie-Doogie.”
William chuckled. “That’s my line.”
I stepped closer. Challenged him. “Then say it.”
He closed the gap between us. Our hands found each other’s; our fingers wove together like a tapestry. “Yoogie-Doogie,” he whispered. Close enough that I could smell the coffee on his breath.
“You remind me of a man.” I tilted my chin up, my eyes found his. Found the warmth. The safety.
“What man?”
“The man with the power . . .”
His lips came to the tip of my nose. “What power?”
“The power of hoodoo.”
“Who do?”
I laid my forehead against his chest. Felt the rhythm of his heartbeat. “You do.”
His lips tickled my ear. “Do what?”
I allowed my head to fall back in an invitation for him to kiss me. At least one time. Before I got back in the car and returned to the cottage. Returned . . . home. And to the work waiting there for me and the music to face. “Remind me of a man . . .”
He took my invitation. “What man?” he asked against my lips.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders again and, with a giggle, I whispered, “The man with the power . . .”
“Oh yeah?” he teased.
“Shoot, I reckon.”
Discussion Questions
1. In the opening chapter of The Road to Testament, Ashlynne is challenged by her grandmother and father to do something out of her comfort zone. Have you ever been challenged to do something like this? How did it turn out for you?
2. Going to Testament and working in the newspaper business is uncomfortable for Ashlynne but not because she thinks she is better than everyone there. Did you understand fully why Ashlynne had such difficulty with “normal” people, as she called them?
3. What do you think was the cause behind Ashlynne’s need to look into people’s medicine cabinets?
4. William had preconceived feelings about Ashlynne that resulted in vacillating treatment between “mean” and “nice.” Why do you think William could not consist
ently stick with one treatment?
5. Do you believe Ashlynne really knew the name of the magazine or was she being flippant about its title on purpose?
6. Ashlynne and Alma—two people from two totally different worlds—become fast friends as do Ashlynne and Brianna. Why was Ashlynne able to make such a connection with these two women so easily when such connections had eluded her before?
7. What was it about William that tugged at Ashlynne’s heartstrings when someone as fine as Rob only managed to make it to the “good friend” level?
8. Do you see any significance in the periods of time seen on the roads (the Revolutionary War road, the Civil War road the road to Testament)?
9. In the process of doing one thing (shadowing William and working on the magazine), Ashlynne discovers her true talent for “digging up information” and research. This puts her, once again, possibly at odds with the “normal” people of Testament. Why do you think she was willing to risk her career and possibly her freedom to reveal the truth about Sean and the dead buried on Rob’s property?
10. Both William and Ashlynne have misjudged each other based on past histories. Have you ever done that to someone else or had it done to you?
Bonus Question: What do you think happened to Ashlynne after the end of the book? Do you foresee a relationship between her and William?
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