End Of The Road: (A Clean Romance Novella) (Women's Adventure in Alaska Romance Book 3)

by Renee Hart

  She headed out alone and drove forty-five minutes to get to the location of the garden show. When she got there, she was surprised at how big of a spectacle it was. The event was being held at a farmer's market, and there were vendor stands lined up everywhere, selling everything from fresh produce to flowers to herbs to homemade arts and crafts. There were also a number of events taking place, including a line of displays for people who had used cross-pollination to grow special types of plants that were resilient against pests. There was another event on floral arrangements, and one for “edible bouquets” made from fruits that had been carved to look like flowers. Then there was a children's event, where kids from kindergarten age to adolescence showed off their knowledge of photosynthesis and the life cycle of plants.

  Tessa met Conner at the event for best produce, which was divided into different categories based on the type of fruit or vegetable on display. There were about a dozen entrants with tomato plants, each of them growing some of the biggest, plumpest, most ripe fruits Tessa had ever seen. They were all working on arranging their displays, spritzing water on the plants to keep them fresh, and doing last-minute pruning to make sure everything looked its best.

  Tessa helped Conner set up his display, along with a poster she'd made at home declaring the New Eden Apartments Gardening Community as Conner's sponsors. Though technically she was the only member of the community who had done any sponsoring.

  She did her best not to look directly at Topher while she was setting up, but he spotted her and came over to talk to her. “Tessa?” he asked. “I didn't know you were going to be here.”

  He eyed Conner's tomato plant critically, sizing up the competition.

  “Well, you always talked about it so much,” Tessa said. “I figured I should come by sometime.”

  “But this isn't one of yours,” he said, gesturing to the plant.

  “Well, no.”

  He studied the poster, frowning. “You're...sponsoring someone? That...that's weird.” He scratched the back of his head. “Why not grow your own? You grow tomatoes, don't you?”

  “Well, my crop didn't come in very well this year,” she said, crossing her arms. “Thanks to you.”

  “Thanks to me?” He got a confused look on his face. “What did I do?”

  “That herbicide you've been spraying?” She stared him down, finally ready for the confrontation that had been weeks in coming. “The wind's been picking it up and spraying it onto my plants. My poor tomatoes withered away to almost nothing!” She threw her arms up in the air, her voice raising near the end of her tirade.

  “Oh.” Topher chewed on his lip. “Well, why didn't you tell me?”

  Tessa blinked, lowering her arms. “What?”

  “Why didn't you tell me my spray was getting on your crops?” He gave her a confused look, sympathy showing in his eyes. “I could have put down tarps or something to contain it. I didn't know.”

  “But...but you...” Tessa shook her head, unable to form a coherent thought.

  “We're all a community, aren't we?” He shrugged, keeping his head down. “I know you don't like me much, or whatever, but I would've done something about it. If you'd told me.”

  “I...” Tessa stared at him, mute. “I...I guess I didn't think about it.”

  “Whatever.” He shrugged and turned away. “Sorry, I guess. I'll be more careful next time.”

  He headed back to his own plants, checking over them one last time before the judging.

  Tessa sat down on the stool by Conner's display. She felt dizzy. It slowly started to sink in. All these weeks, planning Topher's downfall...and she had never even tried just talking to him. Like a reasonable, responsible adult would have done.

  “I am such an ass,” she whispered, lowering her head into her hands.

  Her head was still spinning when the judges started coming around. She looked up at them, watching the group move from one display to another. They made notes and took measurements, checking each plant's height, weighing the tomatoes, and making other objective assessments. The winner would be judged based on the highest score in several categories, including size, color, and several other measurements. The judges made their way down the line, taking a few minutes at each display. By the time they got to Topher's display, Tessa was on the verge of having a panic attack.

  “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.” She got up and started pacing back and forth in front of Conner's display, wringing her hands.

  “Hey, don't be so nervous,” Conner said. “It ain't the end of the world if we lose.”

  She ignored him. All she could think about was how she was such a horrible person for going through so much effort to crush Topher's ambitions, when he hadn't done anything wrong at all. She hadn't even talked to him about her concerns. She had always thought Topher was an odd fellow, and a bit standoffish, but she should have at least given him a chance. Treated him like a human being.

  The judges were only one table away. She looked between them and Conner's display, trying to think. She thought about smashing the tomato, ripping the vine up by its roots, or flipping the table over. Anything to keep from winning. But then she saw the eager smile on Conner's face. She'd dragged him into this, and it wouldn't be fair for her to ruin things for him.

  She was stuck. There was nothing she could do but stand there and wait.

  She stood there wringing her hands as the judges walked over to their table. She felt like she was going to throw up. She never wanted to look at another stupid tomato again in her entire life.

  She forced a smile as the judges greeted them. The judges were quiet as they made their assessments. Then they thanked Tessa and Conner, before moving on. Tessa sat back down, burying her face in her hands, and silently praying for this to all be over soon.

  It felt like forever before the judges came over to make their announcements. Tessa sat on the edge of her seat. She saw Topher leaning forward nervously. He looked as anxious about winning as Tessa was, though for completely different reasons.

  “And first prize,” one of the judges said, “for best tomato is...Topher Caldwell!”

  Tessa heaved a sigh of relief. Conner made a frustrated gesture with his hand and said, “Aww, well. Good show, anyway, right?”

  Conner ended up taking third place and winning a yellow ribbon. He held it up with pride and beamed as his picture was taken. Tessa congratulated him, then headed over to Topher's table.

  “Hey, Topher.”

  He looked up at her, then ducked his head back down, fiddling with the leaves of his plant. “Hi.”

  “I just wanted to congratulate you. You deserved this.”

  A shy smile showed on his face, though he didn't quite make eye contact. “Thanks. I had a bigger one last year.” He patted his tomato lovingly, then shrugged.

  She touched his arm and smiled. “Well, congratulations. I'm happy for you.”

  She turned away, feeling waves of relief wash over her. She'd made a fool of herself, dragged people into her crazy scheme, and nearly ruined the biggest day of Topher's year. But at least, she told herself, things had worked out in the end.

  Except, she realized, for one last problem. She still had to go home and apologize to Samson.

  Chapter 13

  When Tessa got home, she headed for Samson's apartment and knocked on the door. She hadn't knocked for months, but somehow, it felt like she needed to this time.

  There was no answer. She knocked again, and waited. When there was still no answer, she let herself in. Samson wasn't home. Though when she looked outside she saw him out in the garden, laughing with some of the neighbors as he passed around mugs of his herbal tea.

  She stood in his apartment, wringing her hands. She knew she needed to go out there and talk to him, but she didn't know what to say. “I'm sorry” was the obvious thing, but it didn't seem like enough. Looking back on her behavior over the last few weeks, she knew she'd been a complete idiot. And now that it was time to face up to it, she realized she ha
d no idea how to do it.

  She was pacing around his apartment when she saw him look her way through the window. He gave her a wave, and she paused in her pacing, waving back. He set down his mug of tea on a bench outside and entered the apartment through the back door.

  “Hey,” he said, a small smile touching his lips. “How did the show go?”

  “We lost.” She shrugged.

  “Ahh.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet.

  “Listen,” she said. She chewed on her lip, trying to figure out what to say.

  He waited for a moment, then smiled at her and said, “Let me guess. You realized you were being kind of an ass, figured out how wrong that was, and now you're feeling guilty?”

  “See, now that's not fair!” She threw her arms out to either side. “You don't get to come in here, and be all...all...”

  “Right?” he asked, a smug grin on his face.

  “Well...yeah.” She pouted, looking up at him.

  “Tessa, it's okay.” He stepped forward and slipped his arms around her waist. “I was just as much of an ass as you were. I just figured it out a little bit sooner.”

  “So, we're a couple of asses, then. Is that what you're saying?”

  He shrugged. “Well, we do seem to have a track record of making bad decisions together.”

  She laughed and laid her head against his chest. “Can we do anything right?”

  “We did one thing right.”

  He touched his fingers under her chin to tilt her face up towards him. She smiled, fighting back tears. “You're going to be a total dork,” she said, giggling, “and say 'the one thing we did right is us.'”

  He laughed and rolled his eyes. “Well, way to take away my romantic steam!”

  They held each other close and laughed, then they kissed, and Tessa's worries and tensions started to melt away. She looked up at Samson, smiling, and thinking how lucky she was to have someone who was so understanding, and so willing to put up with her craziness.

  “I love you,” she said.

  “And I love you.”

  “Just promise me one thing?”

  “Anything.” He smiled and stroked her hair.

  “Next time I come up with some crazy scheme,” she said, “just pour me a glass of wine, lock me in my room, and tell me to forget all about it.”

  He laughed and hugged her tight. “Tessa my dear, you've got yourself a deal.”

  THE END

  Tessa's Autumn by J.L. Starr

  will be released in Fall of 2016.

  My Chance

  A Contemporary Romance Novella

  (Clean Version)

  J.L. STARR

  Description

  When Donna's grandmother dies, it brings her family together for the first time in five years. She and her siblings discover that Grandma left them all a sizable inheritance. But there's a catch: in order to collect the money, they need to first obtain in a college degree or forfeit their share.

  Donna is stuck in a desperate situation. She dropped out of college years ago in order to raise her daughter. She's drowning in debt and desperately needs this inheritance to make a future for herself and her daughter.

  The only way to get the inheritance is to head back to school and try to juggle college life, working a day job, and raising a daughter all at the same time. There's little room for her new friend Connor and no room for error.

  Content label: This is a 20,000 word clean romance. A sexual relationship is implied, however there is nothing more explicit than kissing in the story.

  Chapter 1

  I hadn't spoken to my younger brother and sister for about five years before the day of our grandmother's funeral.

  We each sat in different rows during the small church service. Dad sat somewhere partway between all of us. He'd been stuck between us for years, juggling everything to keep us separated during the holidays.

  I'd said on more than one occasion that I wouldn't mind us seeing each other for family gatherings. There was no reason we couldn't be civilized towards each other. But the last time we made the attempt, my little brother had gone into a full-blown panic attack in Dad's driveway on Christmas Eve. I wasn't quite clear on what had been going through his head—I never had been, since we were little—but apparently he had been so scared of what we would do and say that he had a complete breakdown. I remember standing in Dad's living room, watching as he carried Jimmy's Christmas presents out to the car, before Jimmy and his girlfriend had driven away.

  I looked across the church at him, wondering how he was doing. His wife—not the same girl from that Christmas, she'd apparently cheated on him a few years later—held his hand in her lap, stroking his fingers to keep him calm. He was quiet the entire time, though I'd expected that. He tended to get quiet during emotional times, sometimes shutting down completely. I was pretty sure he was somewhere on the autism spectrum, but as far as I knew, he'd never gotten checked out.

  My little sister Amanda was the only one who was crying. She was also the youngest; she'd just turned twenty-two, and her college graduation was in a few days. Not that I'd been invited.

  When the priest asked if anyone wanted to say a few words, Amanda was the only one that got up. I watched her walk up to the front, wiping the tears from her eyes. I wondered what she could possibly say about Grandma. Grandma had suffered from Alzheimer's that had slowly robbed her mind over the course of the last six or seven years. I hadn't even bothered to visit her for the last five. I didn't see the point, since she never recognized me. And we'd never had a relationship. Amanda couldn't have had any better memories of Grandma than I had. She'd been a teenager when Grandma started losing her mind, so her only real memories of Grandma would probably have been of Christmases and Thanksgivings from years past, and that summer we spent at Grandma's while our parents were getting divorced.

  “My Grandma was really special to me,” Amanda said. “I remember how hard it was, helping take care of her when she first got diagnosed with Alzheimer's. There was this one time, she was convinced these shortbread cookies were made out of wood...”

  I looked down into my lap, tuning out the rest of the story. Amanda had still been living with Dad when he took Grandma in. I guess I'd never thought about her helping taking care of Grandma as she deteriorated.

  While Amanda was telling her story, I noticed my daughter, Ariella, had her phone out. She was holding it low in her lap, probably thinking nobody would notice. I tapped my fingers on it and gestured for her to put it away. She ignored me. I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Put that away. This is a funeral for Pete's sake.”

  She huffed and gave me an annoyed look, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Mom, I'm bored,” she whispered. “I didn't even know her.”

  “Put it away,” I hissed, holding my hand out to grab the phone if she didn't listen. She rolled her eyes and tucked the phone in her pocket.

  I didn't blame her for not wanting to be here. I didn't want to be here, and I'd at least sort of had a relationship with Grandma when I was younger. Not much of a relationship, since she'd lived in Tennessee most of my life, so we only saw each other on the holidays. But Ariella had been in diapers when Grandma started losing her mind. As far as I knew, she had no memories of her great-grandmother at all.

  “It won't be much longer,” I whispered. I put an arm around her. She leaned her head against my shoulder and pretended to pay attention to what her aunt was saying.

  When Amanda finished, the priest stepped up and asked, “Would anyone else like to say anything?”

  I looked around at my estranged family members. No one made a move.

  The priest went through the final blessings, then closed the casket. The funeral procession on the way to the cemetery was small. Aside from Dad, my stepmom, my siblings, and Ariella, the only people there were my Dad's sister and my cousins from North Carolina. I didn't know them very well either. Before they came up for the funeral, I hadn't seen them
since the summer we spent at Grandma's when I was twelve. Though we sort of kept in touch on Facebook.

  I stood quietly as they lowered Grandma into the earth. I thought about all the years that I never called her, never visited. It wasn't like I'd had time to visit her in Tennessee. Raising a daughter on my own had taken up most of my time. But as the coffin disappeared from sight, I realized that I didn't know a single thing about my grandmother. Oh, I knew the basic facts. She'd grown up on a farm. She'd worked for awhile as an Avon lady. She'd been really racist and strict. But I didn't know any of the real details of her life. What her first kiss had been like. What kind of job she'd had as a teenager. Whether she'd ever traveled when she was younger, or whether she'd been stuck in Tennessee her whole life. Why she'd divorced my grandfather, a man I'd never even met.

  There was no way I was ever going to learn those things now. She was gone, and all of her hopes and dreams, her secrets and lies, her fears, her sins, and her mysteries, they were all lost forever. Maybe Dad could tell me a few things about her life, but he couldn't know what was really in her heart. He couldn't tell me what her favorite movie was, or her favorite color. He couldn't tell me what she'd thought about me, whether she'd respected the decisions I'd made in my life.

  I cried then, thinking about the things that were lost. Not for the woman herself. I hadn't known her well enough to mourn her. No, I mourned the relationship that we'd never have. I mourned the lost chance to get to know her. The knowledge that it was too late to go back to the days before Alzheimer's took her mind, pick up the phone, and call her just to say hi.

  Ariella put an arm around me. I don't think I'd ever cried in front of her before.

  My tears didn't last long. The priest's final words were simple and generic. He hadn't known her, either. When it was all done, Ariella and I headed for the car.

  “Can we go home now?” she asked. She had her phone back out. I was starting to regret buying it for her for Christmas. I'd argued for awhile that a nine year old was too young to have her own smartphone. She'd convinced me that since she was “almost ten,” she deserved to have one.