The Sage After Rain A love story
Page 1
By Jaclyn M. Hawkes
Be sure to read Jaclyn’s other books
Journey of Honor A love story
An entertaining historical romance set in
1848 in the American West
The Outer Edge of Heaven
A rollicking contemporary love story set
on a beautiful Montana ranch
The Most Important Catch
A tender and intense modern day story
of devotion set against a backdrop of
pro football in North Carolina
Healing Creek
A heartfelt and fun tale of love and trust
Rockland Ranch Series
The epic saga of a Wyoming ranch family
Peace River
Above Rubies
Once Enchanted
Warrior’s Moon
An intrepid tale of adventure and devotion set in the medieval kingdom of Monciere’
What readers are saying about Jaclyn’s books:
I have just one thing to say about Jaclyn M. Hawkes’ book The Outer Edge of Heaven! I absolutely love, Love, LOVE it! Okay, really, I actually do have more to say about it. . . I never wanted it to end, and when it did, I wanted more. Debbie Davis
I have to say that as a writer, I think Jaclyn M. Hawkes has hit her stride. I enjoyed every moment of this story as I laughed, cried, and even went for my own bag of Oreos and glass of milk. Jaclyn M. Hawkes has found her place in clean, contemporary fiction. I would love to see more stories like this one from her. Cheryl Christensen A Good Day to Read
Wow! I absolutely LOVED this book. I could not put it down, not to do homework, not to sleep, not to clean house, nada! Fantastic book! Tamera Westhoff
This book is a fast read and one that you really won't want to put down. You will fall in love with the characters and not want the story to end. I enjoy Jaclyn's writing and hope to read even more books from her. Sheila Staley
Killer dialogue, and the hero was well worth the wait. It was definitely a fun read. Heather Justesen
The Sage After Rain
By Jaclyn M. Hawkes
Copyright© November 2013 Jaclyn M. Hawkes
All rights reserved.
Published and distributed by Spirit Dance Books. Spiritdancebooks.com
855-648-5559
Cover design by Roland Ali Pantin
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief passages for gushing reviews and for use in a classroom as an example of outstanding literature, where the title, author, and ISBN accompany such use. All opinions expressed herein are that of the author only. This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to reality is coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or publisher.
Printed in USA
First Printing December 2013
LOC 2013955627
ISBN: 0-9851648-6-7
ISBN-13: 978-0-9851648-6-7
Acknowledgements
Thanks to my team. There is no way I could be successful without you. Thanks to all the readers and editors—even when you’re brutally honest. And thanks to Roland for his exquisite artwork. Thanks to Amanda for not getting testy when I admit I hate marketing. Thanks to my younger children for still doing their chores, even when Mom is buried finishing a book. Thanks to the seismic crew that I watched get off the helicopter one sunny day in Sigurd. Thanks to Phil Sharer of Houston Texas for helping me research this book. And most of all, thanks to my husband—for everything, but especially for supporting my need to write. He encouraged me even when at first it seemed a little wacko. But then, he’s always been the most uplifting man I know.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my husband. Like the hero of this book, he is a gentle man. He has that wonderful, soft spoken sense of who he is and because of it, you don’t feel the need to question his wisdom or his counsel. You just know that under his care it’s all going to be okay. As a wife in a world that can sometimes be more eventful than you expected, that is a priceless gift. He is definitely my hero and the love of my life.
Chapter 1
Baltimore Maryland
Taya Kaye gave her elegant hair and make up one last glance in the reflection of the glass door as she stepped into John's office and greeted her parents. They were definitely two of the beautiful people of the world in their evening wear. John was beautiful himself in a tux leaning on his desk, talking on the phone, but Taya realized immediately he was in a bad mood as she listened to the way he was speaking to whoever was on the other end. Something, somewhere in his world wasn't going the way he wanted it to this evening.
He got off the phone and stood up to approach her and gave her a smile that didn't entirely erase the scowl around his eyes and said, "Taya, you look magnificent tonight. People will come from near and far to donate to the campaign the moment they see you. Don't you agree Stan? Evelyn?"
"You do look wonderful, Taya, honey." Her mom walked toward her. "I love the hair, and the jewelry is perfect, but why don't you lose the little jacket. You have such pretty shoulders, and the jacket almost covers that exquisite necklace. The jacket is too matronly for you. Go ahead and slip it off."
With a sigh, Taya replied, "Mother we've been through this a hundred times. Not tonight. I don't want to argue. You know I'm not going to go anywhere strapless, so don't even start."
Her father opened his mouth to say something, but John interrupted, "Just this once, Taya. Listen to your mother. She's right, and you're so pretty I want to show you off." His phone rang and interrupted whatever he had been going to say next.
He turned aside to take the call and Taya's father came close and whispered, "Do as he asks, Taya. He's already in a temper and you need to help him relax before this evening. It's a huge night for him. There are millions of dollars of campaign funds on the line here. The strapless dress might even help with the fundraising, you never know. You get some of these wealthy old men drinking and they might take one look at you and hand over their billfolds." He wasn't smiling as he spoke and Taya began to wonder what was going on.
Her mom put in as well, "It's a wife's place to help ease the strain on a busy and successful husband, Taya. Or in this case, a fiancée’s. You need to do whatever it takes to help him relax for this party."
John's voice raised a few decibels in the back ground and she heard him use an expletive she'd never heard him use before and she quietly asked, "What's he so upset about?"
"I'm not sure, Taya, honey, but he's spitting nails. Something about his opponent insinuating corrupt dealings with some highway contractors. It lit him up fast, I can tell you. You need to help him calm down."
"He's a grown man, Mother. I'm sure he'll be fine. He would have never made it to congressman if he wasn't capable of calming himself down."
He finally got off the phone and approached the three of them. "We're late. Let's head out to the car. Taya, take off the jacket and let's go. There are a lot of people waiting for me."
He went to undo the little button at her throat and she pulled away. "I'm not taking off the jacket, John. It's part of the dress."
He shook his head without smiling. "Come on, Taya. It's a fundraiser. The better you look, the more money I'll get.” He picked up his phone and a sheaf of papers from his desk and turned toward the door. “We're late. Quit messing around and take it off."
Turning with him to go, she said, "No. I'm not taking it off. It's not modest without it."
He stopped so abruptly she almost walked into him. She could hear him breathing deeply in front o
f her for the merest second and then he back handed her so suddenly and so explosively that she never even saw the blow coming.
The phone in his hand impacted with her head on the point of her brow and almost instantly blood spattered across the papers on his desk as she collided with his chair. It rolled as she hit it and she careened into the corner of the desk before slamming into the wall and then to the floor beside it.
The humongous diamond solitaire from her engagement ring had somehow tangled in the beads of her dress and her hand was between her body and the desk when she smashed into it. Then it was bent back under her when she fell as she tried to catch herself.
Pain ripped through her whole left hand as she lay there, stunned and trying to breathe after the impact of her landing. Lights sparkled in her vision, and it took her a moment to even understand what had just happened. He had hit her! John Channing, her own fiancé' had hit her!
White hot anger spurted through her and was the only thing that kept her from crying out from the excruciating pain of her hand. The blood dripping from her head onto the carpeting of his office floor didn't even register through the agony that radiated from her ring finger all the way up through her wrist.
Slowly, she turned her head to look up, but John wasn't even looking at her. He was swearing viciously over the fact that she had gotten blood on his white tuxedo shirt. Picking up the office phone, he barked an order for whoever picked up on the other end to meet him with another one. He hung up and threw a venomous glance over his shoulder at her and swore again, then said, "Now look what you've done! I needed your help tonight!" He picked up his tuxedo jacket and stalked out the door.
Taya's father came over to stand above her and she couldn't believe her ears when she heard him say, "Someday, girl, you're going to figure out just where your bread is buttered." He turned to his wife. "Let's go, Evelyn. We're late." They walked out the door as well and Taya laid her head back down on the bloody carpet unable to even comprehend what had just occurred here. John had always been a perfect gentleman to her. She’d never dreamed he was capable of something like this.
She was in too much pain to even look up when she heard the door open again, but the sudden intake of breath prompted her to drag her head up to see who had come in. John's private secretary advanced toward her across the room and said, "Oh my stars! Taya, what happened? Was that crash I just heard, you?"
Tiredly, Taya answered, "In the flesh, Judy. John apparently didn't like my dress." She struggled to her knees in the beaded evening gown and began to try to extricate what remained of the ring on her finger from the fabric of her dress as blood ran down the side of her eye from above her brow bone. Seeing the condition of her hand made her want to be sick. She hadn’t ever even wanted the huge diamond. She’d wanted a plain gold band, but John had insisted. Calmly she asked, "Judy is there any way I could trouble you for some ice?"
Judy was standing there with her mouth agape. "Are you telling me John did this?" Taya nodded. "And then he walked out and left you like this?"
Bitterness dripped from Taya's voice as she added, "That was just before my parents followed him. Would you mind calling me a cab?"
Judy finally got past her shock enough to jump into action. She tore a handful of tissues out of the box on the shelf against the wall and bent to put pressure on the cut on Taya's brow. Taya groaned at the touch. She was still trying to untangle the prongs from the ring and her dress one handedly. The eight carat diamond was completely broken off and she had no idea where it had landed.
Judy pushed her hand away gently and finished untangling it. She made a sympathetic sound with her mouth as she looked up into Taya's watering eyes. "Oh, honey I'm so sorry. I'm afraid your finger is pretty well shattered. I'll go get that ice."
She helped Taya to her feet and to the nearby office chair, where she helped her hold pressure on the cut on her brow and then picked up the phone and punched in a zero for the switchboard operator. "Hello. This is Judy in John Channing's office. I need you to send security, and a janitor with a tool box as soon as possible! Yes! Hurry!" She hung up and then dialed again and asked for an ambulance and the police and then headed out the front door of the office at a jog.
Chapter 2
Western Colorado
There was the most striking woman at the gas station in Halloran as Matt Maylon filled up his Jeep on the way back to Steamboat Springs and he couldn’t help but notice her, but then he felt guilty for thinking she was exquisite. All he did was see a beautiful girl at the next gas pump, but it felt somehow disloyal to Stacy. Stacy. How had he gotten into this mess of a relationship with Stacy?
All the way back to Steamboat and his office and then to his apartment, he worried about dealing with Stacy again. When he finally got home, he knew he was indeed in trouble the moment he walked in the door to see her standing in the kitchen in the outfit she usually wore to go out dancing and with a beer in her hand. Dead tired, he had to be back at the project site two and a half hours away at eight o'clock in the morning and he really wasn't up to going out tonight. He wasn’t up to dealing with Stacy at all. He wouldn’t have even come back here to his apartment except that he needed clean clothes and was honestly too tired to drive back to the site tonight.
Stacy looked up as he came in the door, gave him a hesitant smile and said, "Hi, Matt. I wondered if I’d see you tonight. How is the project going these days?” At least she asked this time. Glancing at her, he noticed her hair was a yellower blonde than it had been the last time he’d seen her.
Tossing his keys on the counter, he went across to give her a half-hearted hug. He had absolutely no interest in kissing her, especially when she'd already started drinking by herself at seven-thirty in the evening. He didn't remember her drinking that much before she moved in here five weeks ago, but then if he was honest, he hadn’t known her all that well.
He felt like he knew her even less now. His work was insanely busy, and except for checking in with his office, he’d made it a point to be out of town constantly from the day he’d woken up hung over and realized that somehow, in the one time he had blown it and gotten smashed drunk, she had moved in with him. He still had no clue how that had come about, because he couldn’t imagine himself asking her, or any girl, to do something like that, even if he had been completely comatose. He just wasn’t that kind of a guy.
It sounded terrible, but sometimes he wondered if he even had invited her, or if she had simply used his moment of complete stupidity drinking to move in as her way of dealing with a housing shortage. When he considered that, he felt guilty again for wondering if she was really that shallow. She’d seemed like a nice girl when he’d first met her. At any rate he hadn’t quite figured out how a decent guy handled a situation like this. The whole fiasco was so awkward that he’d been hesitant to even deal with it, even though Stacy seemed perfectly content with living here except for her inevitable comments about him working so much.
It hadn’t mattered anyway. The fact was, he was in the middle of a nightmare work project that he didn’t have the option of backing out of. He wasn’t really even living here except to come home, do a load or two of laundry, grab a bite and head back out to his job site. He certainly wasn’t going to come home to sleep with her. Still . . .
He should have known hanging out with Justin and his friends would screw up his life. Nothing good had come of the friendship with a hellion like Justin. Well, one good thing. After that night, Matt knew he’d never touch another drop of alcohol in his life.
Going back to Stacy’s question about his project, he answered her almost warily, "It's going okay. How was work?" She immediately assumed a pouty look and he wished he could take his question back, but was saved from having to listen to her go on about some injustice at the store by her phone ringing.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he stretched and automatically walked to the fridge to open it. Stacy hadn't been eating in this week apparently. The fridge was mostly empty except for the l
eftovers from the grilled chicken he’d made last Sunday when he’d stopped by the apartment before going back to the project. He reached in to check out the chicken, noticed it was growing and dumped it down the disposal, then rinsed the dish. This time he went to the freezer in hopes of finding food he didn't have to either go somewhere to get, or order on the phone. After living out of a hotel for months, he wanted something cooked on his own stove.
He halfheartedly moved two frozen pizzas and a pile of Lean Cuisines. He had pork chops and a package of crumbled bacon. The pork chops would take too long, but the bacon had potential. He opened the fridge back up to see what there was in the way of fresh vegetables for an omelet.
He turned on some mellow background music and was happily cutting onion, zucchini, and bell peppers when Stacy ended her phone call and came over to see what he was doing and then wrinkled her nose at the bell pepper and said, "I thought maybe you'd take me out to dinner since this is the first night you've been home in ages. What do you say?" She went to take his hand and he deftly avoided her by reaching into the drawer to find a sauté pan.
"Not tonight, Stace. I'm going to eat, take a shower, and sleep for twelve full hours before I have to be back out in the desert tomorrow morning. You want an omelet?"
Her tentative smile disappeared and she said, "No. And I don't want to hear any more about that stupid project you're pouring your life into either. You never have a spare moment for me. It’s always just your project. Can't you put it aside for one weekend?” Her voice brightened and she went on, “Justin and Jenna and I are talking about taking a fast trip to Vegas. Come go with us. We'll leave tomorrow night and fly back Monday morning. Or Monday afternoon probably, knowing us." She laughed. "We probably better get an afternoon flight, since it is Vegas. The City of Sin." She laughed again and put a hand on his arm as he turned to look at her. Who was this girl? She was so different from the pretty, happy, fun person he had once thought he was starting to have feelings for. He didn't think her joke about the City of Sin was funny.