Sage clenched her fists at her sides. She would do anything in her power to protect him.
* * *
Hank hadn’t meant to talk to the beautiful woman on the ferry, but there had been something about Sage Duncan that had tugged at him. She had looked so sad staring out across the water, and he had wanted to make her smile. Instead, he’d made himself look like a goofball.
Hank winced. He had made the corny joke about her being Lily North, which had landed with a little bit of a thud. Sage had looked at him with horror radiating from her eyes. She probably thought it was in bad form to make a joke about a missing person.
What Sage didn’t know was that two years ago Hank had fallen for a woman named Theresa Bennett. They had gone out for a few months, during which time he had grown fond of Theresa. A short while later he had discovered she was nothing more than a fraud. A beautiful con artist bent on extorting money from his friends the Norths by pretending to be their missing child. Theresa had made a prize fool out of him. He imagined people were joking about how she’d pulled the wool over the eyes of a member of law enforcement. Just thinking about it made Hank’s face flush with embarrassment.
So, in actuality he had really been laughing at his own stupidity when he’d cracked the joke about Sage being Lily North. Theresa had already burned him on that front. Once bitten, twice shy. He wasn’t going down that road again.
He owed it to his daughter, Addie, to use more discretion when it came to romance. Hank let out a grunt. He really hadn’t dated since that adorable little charmer had come into his life. And although the whole Theresa fiasco still stung a bit, she’d also given him his daughter. He would always be grateful. Addie’s birth had led him straight to his relationship with Christ.
It wasn’t as if he was dying of loneliness or anything. Being a full-time father and town sheriff kept him very busy. In his experience, romance brought nothing but upheaval, and he had resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to walk through life with a soul mate. Not everyone got the happy ending. His thoughts veered to his best friend, Gabriel Lawson. Gabe had found out the hard way about shattered dreams when his fiancée had taken off two days before their wedding. No, sir. Hank didn’t need someone to hand him his heart on a platter.
As the ferry glided into dock and the captain announced their arrival, Hank did his best not to look for Sage. The boat wasn’t crowded with passengers, and in her cherry-red jacket it wouldn’t take much effort to spot her. But he really didn’t need any distractions, especially ones with jet-black hair, tiny freckles dotting their cheeks and doe-brown eyes flecked with gold.
Just as the thought popped into his head, Hank spotted Sage struggling with an oversize piece of luggage. Despite his vow not to get involved, he found himself walking over toward her. His mother had raised him to be a gentleman after all.
“Can I help you with your bags?” he asked Sage, admiring her pluck in attempting to wield the baggage.
She immediately let go of the piece of luggage. Her shoulders sagged with relief. “Thanks for asking. I may have overstuffed it a bit,” she admitted. “When in doubt, pack everything you can. It’s far better to have too much clothing than too little.”
Hank felt the corners of his mouth twitching with merriment. The suitcase was nearly as big as the woman herself. He led the way off the ferry and down the pier. Once they reached the pickup area, he deposited the luggage on the ground. Although he wanted to ask her if she had a ride and where she was staying, Hank felt he might be overstepping if he did so. A few minutes ago it was as if a curtain had come down over her face when they had been speaking. As a law enforcement officer, he had been trained to watch facial expressions and body language. She had seemed a bit closed off.
However, Hank was far less adept at picking up on signals from females. His romantic past still hung over him like a dark cloud.
Sage was appealing to him and he didn’t quite know how to handle the situation. Judging by her ring finger, she was single. It was a rare occasion when he felt such an attraction at first sight. But it didn’t matter what he felt. He needed to focus on the lessons he’d learned in the past from his ex-girlfriend. He had no intention of making himself vulnerable again. Now that he was a man of faith, his entire life had transformed. Finding God made him want to be a better man.
Hank couldn’t wait to see his little girl. He had only been away for twenty-four hours at a law enforcement summit in Homer, but he’d missed her terribly. Being a single dad wasn’t easy, but Addie had quickly wormed her way into his heart.
His daughter had come into his life unexpectedly when Theresa passed away in a car accident in Kodiak. Hank hadn’t even known of the little girl’s existence when she had been thrust into his life eight months ago. After a bit of a rocky start, he and Addie had developed an incredible bond. Although he had long ago given up on romantic love, Hank knew without a shadow of a doubt that his daughter was the the most precious blessing God could ever bestow on him.
At the moment he needed to put in a few hours at the office and write up a report about the law enforcement meeting in Homer before heading off to his mother’s house to pick up Addie. He grinned as he imagined her sweet little face lighting up as they were reunited. As he got in his truck and started the engine, he pushed all thoughts out of his mind of the attractive visitor to Owl Creek.
* * *
Sheriff Hank Crawford wasn’t just a piece of Alaskan eye candy, she realized. He was a sweet-natured gentleman who happened to be close friends with Connor North. Between his gold badge and his relationship with the North family, he was causing warning sirens to clang in her head.
Sage didn’t want to admit it, but she felt a little forlorn as she watched Hank head off toward the parking lot adjacent to the pier. She saw him climb into a hunter green truck before he roared off into the distance. Suddenly it hit her that she didn’t know a single person in Owl Creek except the good-looking sheriff. She bit her lip. Perhaps her decision to come to Alaska had been based on emotion and grief over her mother’s death rather than being a pragmatic decision to seek out her truths.
Had she made a mistake in traveling so far outside her comfort zone?
The truth shall make you free. The Bible verse from John washed over her. Lately it had really resonated with her. Truth was important. Being here in Owl Creek meant she was one step closer to uncovering the secrets from her past.
She shifted from one foot to the other, trying to keep her toes warm in her flimsy boots. Hank had been spot-on in his assessment of her winter gear. She made a mental note to purchase a sturdier pair, ones with insulation from the snow and ice.
Miss Trudy Miller, the owner of the bed-and-breakfast where she would be staying, had sent Sage a message stating she would be picked up at the pier by her daughter Piper. Sage glanced at her watch, wondering if they had gotten the pickup time wrong. Suddenly, a large white van came barreling into the lot, stopping with a loud squeal. A few seconds later, a woman came running toward her holding a sheet of poster board with her name on it. Sage grinned at the sign being held up by the petite woman with dark curly hair and tawny-colored skin. She was wearing a red-and-black-checkered jacket with a thick turtleneck peeking out from underneath it, along with a sturdy pair of boots.
“Are you Sage Duncan?” the woman asked breathlessly as she reached her side.
“Yes,” she answered with a nod.
“I’m Piper. Trudy’s daughter,” she said, showcasing a set of pearly whites as she smiled at her. “So sorry I’m late. My van didn’t want to start for me. Betsy gets finicky once the temperature plummets. Let me get your luggage.”
“Oh no, I can manage. It’s rather heavy,” Sage explained, feeling guilty about making Piper carry her supersized valise.
“No worries. I’m mightier than I look,” the other woman said with a wink, grabbing the bag and lugging it toward her van. She
looked over her shoulder at Sage. “I grew up with an older brother who loved to wrestle. It made me strong.”
Sage chuckled at the image of Piper wrestling her brother. She’d always wanted siblings but had been raised as an only child. Now that she looked back on it, she viewed it in a whole new light. She’d always known she was adopted. According to her father, Jane had struggled with infertility. Aunt Cathy, her mother’s sister, had made a reference at her mother’s funeral about desperate choices she’d made in the past. Although Sage had tried to get her to elaborate, her aunt refused to tell her anything further on the subject.
Sage reached for the poster-board sign, then picked up her small checkered duffel bag and followed behind Piper. She looked around her at the pine trees and the huge mountains looming in the distance. Wow. She really was in a completely different world right now, miles and miles away from sandy beaches and orange groves.
As they drove along snow-covered roads, Piper took the time to point out local landmarks, the shops in the charming downtown area and the Snowy Owl Diner where Piper worked when she wasn’t helping out at the bed-and-breakfast. Sage sat back and tried to let it all soak in.
“Owl Creek isn’t a very big town, but the folks here are tight-knit and friendly.” She let out a throaty chuckle. “That’s not to say there isn’t the occasional drama breaking out, but it usually involves game night or the annual Alaskan cook-off competition. For the most part, this town is the very definition of serenity.”
Sage could use a little peace right about now. She was trying to mourn her mother’s death while wrapping her head around her unforgivable act. It was all so hard to process. But she knew coming to Owl Creek might give her the closure she so desperately craved.
Piper continued. “If you want a good bison burger, come on over and check the diner out. We also make a mean salmon chowder.” Pride rang out in her voice.
“Mmm. Those both sound delicious,” Sage’s appetite kicked up at the mere mention of food. She hadn’t eaten a bite since her layover in Seattle and her tummy was beginning to grumble.
Sage’s heart began to hammer inside her chest as Piper pointed out a white chalet-style shop. A help wanted sign hung in the window. “There’s the famous North Star Chocolate Shop,” Piper told her, slowing down as they drove past it. “It’s one of the main industries of Owl Creek. There’s a factory down the road where they make the chocolate. They give tours twice a week.” She licked her lips. “And they give out chocolate samples.”
“That sounds fun,” Sage said. “I’ll make a point to swing by there.” She hoped her nerves weren’t showing, but it was hard to stay calm, cool and collected when anything related to the North family was mentioned. She had researched the family and memorized their names and faces. Nate and Willa were Lily’s parents. They had two adult children, Connor and Braden. Beulah North was the matriarch and head of the chocolate company. She was married to Jennings. There were also some other cousins, aunts, uncles and distant relations.
While looking at photos of the family, Sage had tried to find a resemblance between herself and the Norths, but there really wasn’t anything discernible. There was a part of her that wondered if Nate and Willa would take one look at her and recognize her as their own. Was such a thing even possible, or was she simply being fanciful? Maybe this was all a grand mistake. Perhaps she wasn’t Lily North after all.
Piper slowed the van down and turned down a snow-covered lane lined with stunning spruce trees. At the end of the street stood a pewter-and-black sign announcing Miss Trudy’s Bed and Breakfast. Piper turned into a driveway and announced, “We’re here!”
The inn was a beautiful yellow Victorian house with white shutters. A bright blue door and a wraparound porch lent the home an inviting look. With the snow nestled on the roof, the bed-and-breakfast looked like something from a quaint Alaskan postcard. To complete the picture, a wooden statue of a moose sat knee-deep in snow in the front yard, and a Siberian husky ran toward the van, barking enthusiastically and wagging its tail.
Sage got out of the vehicle just in time to witness the dog jumping up on Piper and enveloping her in a bear hug. The petite young woman threw back her head and laughed. “Okay, down, Astro. You almost knocked me over.”
Astro ran over toward Sage and began curiously sniffing her. She held out her hand, obliging the husky. When the dog began to lick her hand, Sage knew she’d gotten a stamp of approval. Rather than follow them the toward the house, Astro ran toward the back of the property as if he was on the hunt for something.
As soon as they stepped inside the bed-and-breakfast, Sage felt a heartwarming vibe pulsing in the air. The inn felt cozy and warm. A blazing fire roared in the fireplace, colorful throws and pillows graced the living room area and picturesque photos hung on the walls.
“Hey, Mom. We’re here,” Piper called out, depositing Sage’s luggage by the staircase.
“I’m in the kitchen,” a voice called out.
Piper motioned for Sage to follow her as she walked down the hallway toward the sound of her mother’s voice. Sage let out a low groan at the delicious smells wafting in the air. She wasn’t sure what was cooking—perhaps pasta or bread—but it made her stomach lurch with hunger.
Once they crossed the threshold into the kitchen, Trudy greeted her.
“Sage! I’m so glad you’ve arrived safe and sound.” The innkeeper was nothing like Sage had imagined. In her mind, Sage had envisioned Trudy as a sweet little old lady with white hair and granny glasses. But with her long wavy red hair, colorful bandanna and eclectic attire, she looked fun and stylish. Her green eyes were bright and engaging. Sage thought she was a stunning woman.
Before she could say a word, Trudy enveloped her in a tight hug. Without warning, Sage felt tears pooling in her eyes. This hug felt like home. It reminded her of her own mother and hundreds of embraces they had shared through the years. Trudy smelled like lemons and vanilla and kindness. She inhaled a deep breath and tried to compose herself.
When Trudy released her she stood face-to-face with Sage and looked deeply into her eyes. “You’ve had a long journey to get here. Why don’t you let me show you to your room so you can rest up before dinner?”
“Thanks, Trudy, but if I lie down I probably won’t come back down till morning,” Sage said, chuckling.
“I have to head over to the diner to get ready for the dinner crowd, but I’ll bring Sage’s luggage upstairs to her room,” Piper offered, leaning in to give her mother a kiss on the cheek. “Let’s catch up later.” She swung her gaze toward Sage. “It was great meeting you. Come on over to the diner soon. Your first meal is on me.”
“Thanks for everything, Piper.” Sage liked her a lot already. She appeared to be independent and feisty. And she had treated Sage like an old friend.
A few minutes later a loud bang rang out as Piper slammed the door behind her. Trudy winced, then muttered under her breath. “How many times have I told her not to slam the door?” She cocked her ear to the side, then let out a sigh that sounded like relief. Seconds later, a loud wailing sound echoed from down the hall.
“Now she’s done it! She’s woken up my grandbaby,” Trudy said with a scowl.
Trudy scurried out of the kitchen, only to return a few moments later with a baby in her arms. She was rocking the little girl back and forth while making soft cooing noises to settle her. The baby calmed down and began to nibble on her fingers.
“Would you mind holding her for a moment?” Trudy asked Sage, holding the baby out to her before she even had a chance to answer. “I have to run upstairs to check on a radiator I just heard rattling.”
“Sure,” she answered, gently taking the baby in her arms. Although she didn’t know a whole lot about kids, this little girl looked like a doll come to life. With her wide green eyes, bow-shaped lips and wispy curls, she was destined to be a heartbreaker.
“Hey there,
” Sage crooned. “Aren’t you the sweetest little thing?”
The baby gazed up at her with a look of surprise etched on her cherubic face. Her lips began to tremble, and her eyes began to moisten.
“Oh no. Please don’t cry,” Sage pleaded. She began to hum and move from side to side in the hopes of soothing the little girl. What did people do to get babies not to fuss? The tyke opened her mouth and let out a wail.
Sage heard the opening and closing of a door, followed by heavy footsteps.
Please, Lord. Let it be Trudy coming back to rescue me. I can handle second graders, but crying babies are a little bit out of my league.
Suddenly, Hank appeared in the doorway with an expression of utter shock on his face.
His brows knit together in a frown. “Sage! What are you doing here? And why is my daughter crying loud enough to pierce an eardrum?”
Copyright © 2019 by Sandra Calhoune
ISBN-13: 9781488059919
A Hopeful Harvest
Copyright © 2019 by Ruth M. Blodgett
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
A Hopeful Harvest (Golden Grove Book 1) Page 19