Saratoga Falls
The Complete Love Story Series
By Lindsey Pogue
Books 1, 2, 3 & The Memory Book
Saratoga Falls - The Complete Love Story Series
Saratoga Falls Love Story Series
By Lindsey Pogue
Copyright © 2018 Lindsey Pogue
All Rights Reserved
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the author, except as used in book review.
This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, events or incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to places or incidents is purely coincidental.
Editing by Sarah Kolb-Williams
Editing by Lauren McNerney
Cover Design by Covers by Combs
Written and Published by Lindsey Pogue
101 W. American Canyon Road, Ste. 508-262
American Canyon, CA 94503
Contents
Also By Lindsey Pogue
1. Whatever It Takes
Prologue
Three years later
1. Sam
2. Sam
3. Reilly
4. Sam
5. Sam
6. Sam
7. Reilly
8. Sam
9. Reilly
10. Sam
11. Reilly
12. Sam
13. Sam
14. Reilly
15. Sam
16. Reilly
17. Sam
18. Reilly
19. Reilly
20. Reilly
21. Sam
22. Reilly
23. Sam
24. Sam
25. Sam
26. Reilly
27. Sam
28. Sam
29. Reilly
30. Sam
31. Sam
32. Reilly
33. Sam
34. Reilly
35. Sam
36. Sam
Epilogue
Author’s Note
2. Nothing But Trouble
Prologue
Five Months Later
1. Mac
2. Colton
3. Colton
4. Mac
5. Mac
6. Mac
7. Colton
8. Mac
9. Mac
10. Mac
11. Colton
12. Mac
13. Colton
14. Mac
15. Mac
16. Mac
17. Mac
18. Mac
19. Colton
20. Mac
21. Mac
22. Mac
23. Mac
24. Colton
25. Colton
26. Mac
27. Mac
28. Mac
29. Mac
30. Colton
31. Mac
32. Mac
33. Mac
34. Colton
35. Mac
36. Colton
37. Colton
38. Mac
39. Colton
40. Mac
41. Colton
42. Mac
43. Mac
44. Colton
45. Colton
46. Mac
47. Mac
48. Colton
49. Mac
50. Colton
51. Mac
52. Mac
53. Mac
54. Colton
55. Mac
56. Colton
57. Colton
58. Mac
Epilogue
Author’s Note
3. Told You So
Prologue
Four Months After New Year’s
1. Bethany
2. Nick
3. Nick
4. Nick
5. Bethany’s Journal
6. Bethany
7. Bethany
8. Nick
9. Bethany
10. Bethany’s Journal
11. Bethany
12. Nick
13. Nick
14. Nick
15. Bethany’s Journal
16. Nick
17. Bethany
18. Nick
19. Bethany
20. Bethany’s Journal
21. Bethany
22. Nick
23. Bethany
24. Nick
25. Bethany
26. Nick
27. Bethany
28. Nick
29. Bethany
30. Bethany’s Journal
31. Nick
32. Nick
33. Nick
34. Bethany
35. Bethany
36. Bethany’s Journal
37. Nick
38. Bethany
39. Nick
40. Bethany
41. Nick
42. Bethany
43. Nick
44. Bethany
45. Nick
46. Bethany
47. Bethany
48. Nick
49. Bethany
50. Bethany
51. Nick
52. Bethany
53. Bethany’s Journal
54. Bethany
55. Nick
Epilogue
Author’s Note
4. Memory Book Collection
Author Introduction
AUTUMN
1. The Playground
2. Birthday Surprise
WINTER
3. The Winter Formal
SPRING
4. Something More
5. Kiss and Tell
SUMMER
6. Truth or Dare
7. The Kissing Booth
8. The Decision
9. Friends Forever
Also by By Lindsey Pogue
A Sneak Peek at Forgotten Lands
About The Author
Also By Lindsey Pogue
Saratoga Falls Love Stories
Whatever It Takes
Nothing But Trouble
Told You So
Forgotten Lands
Dust and Shadow
Borne of Sand and Scorn - Prequel Novella
Wilt and Ruin (TBR)
Borne of Earth and Ember (TBR)
The Ending Series
After The Ending
Into The Fire
Out Of The Ashes
Before The Dawn
The Ending Beginnings Omnibus
The Ending Series: World Before
For more information visit: www.lindseypogue.com
Prologue
Sam
The drive is silent, the road wet, and the wind howls as the rusted F-150 accelerates up the mountain. I’ve driven up and down this road all my life, each bend and bump predictable and mostly unnoticed. But never has the drive been so long and damning as it is this night, with Papa silent in the driver’s seat.
Mike had changed right before my eyes, turned into someone horrible and nasty. I still can’t believe his scathing words; it was like he was someone else entirely. My mind—my heart—screams at me as I remember his bitter laughter and taunting words: “This was never real, anyway.” But that’s not true, it can’t be true. He’s all I have.
Had.
Then Reilly’s face flashes to mind and something hardens inside me. I replay the words I’d overheard—the threatening tone of Reilly’s voice when Mike asked him when he’d become such an asshole. “When you decided to steal my girlfriend. End it.” Reilly’s reply still stings. If his intention was to hurt me the way I’d hurt him, he
succeeded—he’d ruined everything.
I begin to shake. What now?
My mind is clouded with disbelief. I’m too stunned to see life beyond the rain-streaked windshield. It all feels like a dream—a nightmare. But I know it’s real. Papa’s disappointment is earsplitting in his silence. I’m afraid to know what thoughts keep his jaw tightened and his hands clenched so tight around the steering wheel. I watch his knuckles whiten. I’m afraid of the meaningful void of what he doesn’t say.
My late-night call wasn’t one Papa was expecting and definitely wasn’t one he’d soon forget. It’s not his anger that makes my gut sour and my eyes sting with tears; it’s his disappointment in me for lying. It’s thick and suffocating in the air around us, and each passing minute seems slower and more torturous than the last.
I turn away from him and follow the steady stream of raindrops across my window. I wish I could disappear into nothingness, like they do. I wish I could forget this night, that I could go back and never allow Mike to answer the door.
My cheeks burn, and I swipe the tears away before I lose myself headfirst into the black hole of my own creation.
A broken heart is only half the problem. I force myself to grab hold of what scraps of self-respect I have left. Alison’s loving this. I know she is. And that turns my simmering resentment for her, for Mike, for Reilly, into white-hot rage that feels better than the pain.
Straightening in the passenger’s seat, I try to focus on something other than the pregnant silence, the expectance I know hangs between Papa and me. I’m eighteen, I’m an adult. I don’t care if he’s disappointed. This is my life. These are all things that I know are bullshit, but I grasp onto them anyway. I stare out at the road as we drive around each curve, out at the darkness illuminated by the headlights, at the windshield wipers as they work frantically against the raindrops pelting the glass. I focus on anything and everything else until Papa lets out a deep breath.
My eyes met his for a fraction of a second, but that’s all the invite he needs. “I thought we agreed Mike is bad news,” he says quietly, his voice nearly lost in the cacophony of rubber blades against the glass, the truck’s noisy engine, and the sound of my own snivels.
Somehow, the hurt in his voice makes me feel worse than I already do. I glance sideways at him. He looks haggard, like he’s done nothing but worry about me since I woke him with my sobbing telephone call.
Guilt mixed with anger makes it difficult to manage an explanation. “I know,” I whisper.
The wind worsens outside the truck the further into the mountain we drive, shaking with each gust. But Papa’s lost in concentration, or perhaps distraction, as he continues to navigate through the rain, and he doesn’t seem to notice. Sitting in an unfamiliar quietness, I stare out the passenger’s side window again and watch the raindrops continue to race away down the glass. Racing where, I’m not sure, but away sounds nice.
“Alison warned me—”
“Of course she did.” I make a choked sound of disbelief and cross my arms over my chest. She’s done nothing but push Papa and I apart since they married.
“Samantha,” he warns, though his voice is exhausted, or despondent, maybe, and I hate that it’s me who’s making him feel like this. “This is about you.”
“Maybe, but you can’t tell me she wasn’t smiling from ear to ear when she handed the phone over to you.” Although I know I’m being a brat, I know it’s probably true, too.
“Enough!” he bellows, and I wince. Papa shakes his head. “You two need to get past whatever this is between you.” He pauses a moment, steadying his breath. “Can’t you at least try, for me? I can’t take this anymore.”
Sobs well in my throat, close to erupting, and prevent me from answering him.
“I thought you and I were truthful with one another. I know I don’t like the guy, Sam, but lying to my face?” I know that’s what upsets him the most. I’d broken something between us we might never be able to come back from.
Although I hate myself, I grasp tighter to my anger and shame. “I’m eighteen, I’m not your little girl anymore,” I say. Although I notice him straighten at the sound of my tone, I can’t stop myself. “At least I’m not out doing drugs and selling myself on the street corner. I’m—”
“Living under my roof! If you don’t go to college then we do things my way, remember?” And then he asks the one question I’ve been praying he never would. “Is he why you decided to postpone school?” When Papa shakes his head again, I know he’s putting the pieces together, and I can see how angry he is, how much I’ve hurt him. He lets out a despondent sigh. “How long, Samantha?” It’s as if he’s talking to the dead, his voice is so vacant and detached.
This time, I look at him because his tone is commanding me to.
“How long have you been lying to me—saying you were with Mac but really . . . how long?”
After a few more squeaks of the wiper blades, I finally answer, “Since the beginning of senior year.” Just over a year.
Papa scratches his graying beard, something he does when he and Alison are having an argument, mostly about me or money, or the ranch. I finally see how distant we’ve grown over the past couple years, how little he knows me. And even though I want to blame Alison for that, I know, deep down, that it’s my fault, too.
Papa’s quiet for an unbearably long moment until finally, after we’ve accelerated around another bend, he asks, “Do you hate Alison so much?” His eyes never leave the road, though it’s obvious his thoughts are miles away.
“No,” I say easily, and it’s true, I don’t hate her—but I don’t understand her. I don’t like the way she treats me, the way she scowls at me and watches me, waiting for me to slip up. I know that if it were up to Alison, I’d be kicked out. It would just be the two of them. It already feels that way most of the time.
“Maybe I’m doing all the wrong things here,” he says, and I can barely hear his voice above the road noise. “I thought having a mother figure would be good for you. That you would have someone else to talk to and confide in.” His voice drifts away with his thoughts. “I should’ve waited for you to leave for school before I remarried.”
I sniffle, hating how horrid and despicable I feel. “Everything was fine before,” I croak, not understanding why he thought anything needed to change in the first place. We had the ranch, we had our routines and our camping trips, we had fun, but not anymore.
I’m not sure if it’s because he’s thinking or because he disagrees with me, but Papa doesn’t say anything. “I’m sorry,” I breathe, wiping my nose. I just want this terrible night to be over already. I don’t want to think about Papa or Alison, about Mike or Reilly or the downward spiral my life is headed in. It could be worse, I tell myself, though I know I couldn’t possibly feel any worse.
I stare down at my hands that are trembling in my lap, balling them up to steady them. “I don’t want to hurt you, Papa,” I squeak. “I just didn’t want to argue. I needed Mike,” I admit, shocking myself. “I thought he loved me.” And Mike didn’t even want me—he “outgrew” us. Once more, I battle the urge to scream.
A gust of wind shakes the truck, forcing Papa to drive slower as we draw closer to home. I don’t want to go there, to see Alison’s self-satisfied expression. I don’t want to face Papa in the daylight.
“I don’t agree with what you did, Sam. In fact, I’m angry as hell at you for it. But I love you, no matter what, and if you want me to clean and load my 12-gauge, I’ll do it, for you.”
Saratoga Falls: The Complete Love Story Series Page 1