Timeless Vows: Five Tales of Love (Timeless Tales Book 4)

by Ruth A. Casie

  “Are you kidding me?” She wanted to jump out of her skin. “Um, I think that would work great if you don’t mind working with a novice.” Her head was spinning. All those months spent unsure of her future and the one person she’d thought she’d lost was the one who brought it all together for her. Tara would never have read her song if it wasn’t for Nate. She held his hand with enough love to make up for the time they’d lost. But it wasn’t just the song. She really did love him, but couldn’t figure out how to make it right. When her voice failed her, the written words didn’t.

  Tara poured a glass of wine from the sideboard. “Want some?”

  “No.” Nikki shook her head.

  “Definitely.” Nate reached for a glass.

  “I’m glad you brought up novices. Not that I think you’re one, but I’ve been wanting to create a foundation for unknown musicians and songwriters. I’d like to set up a retreat where they can create without the distraction of unwanted stimulation that kills their creative process.” Tara took a sip of wine. “I think you know what I mean.” She stared at Nikki.

  “I do.”

  “I think this place would be perfect. Would you be open to renting it out for a set period of time for a project like that?”

  Nikki pulled Nate in close to her and rubbed her belly. His look gave her the answer she needed. “I think it would be the perfect solution for our family.”

  It Was You

  Lyrics by Lita Harris

  It was you who made me see.

  The beginning of a new me.

  I didn’t know back then that it would never end.

  I only wanted to love you and have you next to me.

  You showed me what I never knew.

  And that was to spend my life with you.

  Here we are years later with a deeper desire,

  But can’t find our way back through the fire.

  As many doors opened, more closed behind us.

  Dreams shattered, hope faded, it was all a bust.

  I sit here searching for an answer.

  No more hurt, a gentle hint of closure.

  We’ve been through so much.

  All I want is to feel your touch.

  To find our way back to the past.

  Whatever the future may cast.

  About the Author

  Lita Harris spends her time between New Jersey and the Endless Mountains region of Pennsylvania, where she writes most of her books. She also lived in Alaska for a short time just for fun. An avid crafter, unused supplies clutter her basement and attempts at making pottery, jewelry, and stained glass are proudly displayed in her house, usually behind a picture or holding a door open. She also makes candles and homemade soap. With enough books to stock a small library she may need to construct a building to store her literary obsessions.

  She writes in multiple genres, including women’s fiction, contemporary romance, paranormal, and cozy mysteries.

  * * *

  For more information about Lita, please visit her website at www.litaharris.com or at twitter.com/litaharris and facebook.com/litaharrisauthor

  For more information about Lita, please visit her online at:

  @LitaHarris

  LitaHarrisAuthor

  www.LitaHarris.com

  Also by Lita

  For more stories by Lita Harris, try:

  Love at Christmas

  Kristen Anderson is resigned to live a child-free life in New Jersey. That is, until she’s given custody of her seven-year-old nephew after the death of his mother. Christmas brings them to their grandmother’s house in Pennsylvania where the family focuses on healing and reopening the family inn in time for the holidays. Enter Luke Baldwin, a man with a past that leaves him uncertain whether he’ll ever find love—until he meets Kristen.

  Kristen’s and Luke’s desire to be together is complicated by Kristen’s yearning to return to New Jersey, her grandmother’s determination to keep Kristen in Brookside Falls, and a family secret that is revealed on Christmas Eve. Will the deceit that threatens to break them apart change their lives forever? What will Christmas bring them?

  Part III

  To Have and to Hold

  Emma Kaye

  * * *

  Viv and Gabe Ganivet have returned to The Loon Lake Inn for their fifteenth wedding anniversary in an effort to save their crumbling marriage. It’s been two years since the death of their son and they’re struggling to recover some semblance of a normal life.

  When a meddling ghost sends them back in time to their wedding weekend, will they find a way to regain some of what they’ve lost? Or did their ghostly “friend” have something else in mind?

  * * *

  Dedicated to ~

  My husband—I couldn’t have found a better man “to have and to hold” and am eternally grateful I get to spend my life with you.

  My family—I love you with all my heart. I’m so lucky to be a part of your lives.

  Ruth, Lita, Nicole, Julie, Desi, and Mallory—Our Tuesday night hangouts are a highlight of my week. Y’all are awesome.

  Copyright © 2015 Emma Kaye

  To Have and to Hold

  by Emma Kaye

  “We can’t go on this way.”

  Viv Ganivet rolled onto her side and pulled the comforter over her shoulder. Her husband’s tone of voice tore at her heartstrings. He was right. She knew it. But she couldn’t force herself to do anything about it.

  He hovered over her. Would he go away, or was he going to push her on this?

  Today of all days.

  Tears burned behind her lids.

  “I’m tired. Can we do this tomorrow?” she asked, hating the whiny tone in her voice.

  Gabe snorted. “That’s what you said yesterday.” He tugged at the comforter. “Take a shower. We’ll grab some—” he looked at his watch, “—dinner and talk.”

  Her fist tightened around the corner of the blanket, but he yanked it from her grasp.

  So…now it is. Her stomach tightened into a knot. She didn’t want to hear what he was going to say. She’d been expecting it for a while. Why did he have to pick today?

  She sat and brushed her hair out of her face. His frown brought fresh tears to her eyes. She averted her gaze so he wouldn’t see. She didn’t want his comfort right now.

  How he must hate her. She was nothing like her old self. She never used to cry at the drop of a hat, or sleep all day to avoid facing the world.

  He was still the amazing man she’d married. More so. While he’d been a tower of strength these past two years, she’d completely fallen apart. And couldn’t seem to pull herself back together no matter how much she wanted to.

  That he’d stayed with her this long continued to amaze her.

  He moved out of her way, so she tottered to the bathroom and straight into the hot shower he’d started for her. She turned up the heat until it fairly scalded her skin, the jets of water pounding upon her head. The Loon Lake Inn had made some upgrades in the fifteen years since she and Gabe had gotten married there. The water pressure had been horrible back then.

  She made quick work of cleaning herself, but stayed until the water had cooled uncomfortably, with the vain hope that her husband would have given up and left.

  No such luck.

  When she blindly reached from behind the curtain to feel her way to a dry towel, one was thrust into her hand.

  Apparently Gabe was determined to have that talk. She knew all his moods. None of her tricks were going to work—because he knew her just as well.

  She finished drying and wrapped the towel around her body like a shield before stepping out to face him. But he wasn’t there.

  Rustling noises came from the bedroom. A peek through the steam revealed him pulling clothes out of her suitcase and laying them out on the rumpled hotel comforter.

  Sweat beaded on her upper lip. The thick air of the bathroom made breathing a struggle. Her heartbeat raced. What would she do if he’d finally had enough?


  He was just as handsome as he’d been all those years ago. More, actually. His dark hair was sprinkled with gray, his belly was a little softer, and lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes—but it all added a mature, confident quality that drew people to him.

  Herself included. She just didn’t know how to reach out. Whenever she tried, she ended up snapping at him. She’d regret it immediately, but too late to erase the damage. He’d say everything was all right, but she could always see the hurt in his eyes.

  Nothing was all right anymore.

  They’d lost so much. Was she about to lose Gabe, too?

  Before he could turn and catch her staring, she swung around to the mirror and fumbled through the array of toiletries spread out on the counter. He’d mentioned dinner—he probably wanted to have this conversation in public so she wouldn’t break down or leave.

  Time to put on her face. She made quick work of her hair and makeup—she almost never bothered anymore. She’d cut her hair short, so drying took only a minute or two. A dusting of blush, a quick swipe of eyeliner and lip gloss. All done. With the towel tucked securely around her breasts, she went to get dressed.

  He clicked off the TV and rose from his chair. His navy blue slacks were neatly pressed, as was his white button-down shirt. He’d kept busy while she showered. The ironing board stood in the corner and one of her blouses hung off the edge, no wrinkles to be seen. She hadn’t been wrinkle free in two years.

  She couldn’t make herself care.

  Her underwear and khaki pants slipped on easily beneath the towel, but she turned her back to him to put on her bra. She hooked the strap in place and dropped the towel on the edge of the bed. She didn’t face him again until her blouse was buttoned almost to the top.

  The hungry look in his gaze kicked her guilt up a notch to twist like a knife in her stomach.

  She hadn’t always been so shy. The added pounds and stretch marks from pregnancy hadn’t done it. Not in front of him, at least. He’d once kissed the white lines on her belly and told her how they reminded him that she was the mother of his child and how much he loved them both.

  Now that Connor was gone…they were just ugly marks on her body that reminded her she no longer had the child who made them. She wasn’t a mother anymore. She didn’t deserve that badge of accomplishment.

  “Come on, let’s go. I made a reservation for seven. It’s five of.”

  Gabe’s voice jolted her out of her thoughts. He stood there holding open the door, staring at her, one eyebrow raised. Had he asked her to leave more than once?

  He ushered her out of the room and straight to the glass elevator. She looked out on the gazebo that was draped with twinkling lights and hundreds of flowers. A happy bride and groom posed for pictures as the inn’s staff put the finishing touches on the outdoor reception area. The setting sun reflected off the lake’s glassy surface in the distance.

  The silence in the elevator was suffocating.

  Memories of her own wedding flashed through her mind, along with a dream she’d had the night before.

  “I dreamed of your great-aunt last night.” She winced. She might as well have shouted.

  “Agnes? She’s been dead for—what—six years? Why’d you dream of her?”

  “No idea.” She wrinkled her brow in thought. “It was really weird. She apologized and said she’d found a way to make it right.”

  “Make what right?”

  She shrugged. “She didn’t say. She said something about a mistake and the gazebo, but I can’t quite remember…”

  His warmth soaked into her back, contrasting with the slight chill of the glass against her hand. She hadn’t realized she’d pressed herself against the elevator wall while she took in the beauty of the view.

  “We were so happy back then,” he said.

  She nodded.

  “You were gorgeous in your dress. I swear my heart stopped when I got my first glimpse of you walking down the aisle.”

  She pictured him standing at the steps of the gazebo, a star-struck look on his face. He used to have a way of looking at her that made her feel like she was the only person in the entire world. “I remember.” It had been a while since she’d seen that look. Lately it seemed they avoided each other’s eyes more often than not.

  “Good. I know you didn’t want to come, especially this weekend.”

  Tension gripped her body tight in its grasp. She rubbed a hand over her stomach, remembering what it had felt like being pregnant. She’d been overjoyed when Connor was born on their anniversary, even though a part of her had missed that feeling of him growing within her. Her body had kept him safe then.

  But she’d ultimately failed in that respect, hadn’t she?

  She hadn’t been able to protect him in the end.

  “But I think Dr. Barstow was right to suggest we come back here. We need to remember the good things, too. Not just the bad.”

  “How?” She turned to face him, startled to find herself pressed tight to his chest. She stepped to the side. “How do you do that? Because I can’t.” She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. She missed Gabe’s warmth. Why couldn’t she bring herself to sink into his arms like she wanted?

  “We can make new memories.”

  We?

  He took a deep breath and her stomach sank. He was about to bring up something she might not like. “We’re still relatively young. We can have another baby.”

  A buzzing in her head drowned out the rest of his words. His mouth continued to move, but she couldn’t hear what he said. The next noise that registered was the smack of her hand against his cheek.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Viv stared up at the gazebo. A cool breeze brushed across her heated face. She’d run until she had a stitch in her side and found herself further from the inn than she’d ever been. The walk back had exhausted her. Thank goodness the trails were well marked.

  The wedding reception was in full swing. The chairs from the ceremony had been removed, and everyone partied under the white canvas tent set up close to the pool area. The music was loud and the drinks flowed at the open bar. Happy people danced and laughed. No one paid any attention to this lovely spot where one of the most important moments of Viv’s life had occurred.

  A figure came out from the shadows. She wasn’t scared. The spicy scent of his aftershave—and her body’s instinctive pull toward him—told her it was Gabe waiting in the dark. The tension that had drained from her body, leaving her weak and tired but sad rather than angry, surged through her spine once more. She threw her shoulders back and glared.

  “Where’ve you been?” he asked in a tired voice. “I was worried.”

  And just like that she was drained once more. She wanted to reach out to him, take him in her arms and hold him until his voice resonated with the strength and happiness he’d once known. Back when they’d exchanged their vows in the very spot where he now stood.

  “I wandered around. Hiked along the nature trail.” She put one foot on the first step, turning her ankle so the light illuminated the dirt-encrusted, inch-high heel on her sandals. “Not such a great plan.”

  “You can’t avoid me forever.”

  No, but she’d been trying. “You surprised me earlier. I thought you wanted a divorce. Not a—a baby.” She winced. The idea brought a crazy jumble of emotions to the surface. She fought the urge to slap him again and shoved aside all those feelings. Locked them away, like she’d been doing for two years.

  “I can’t do this anymore,” he whispered.

  He might as well have shouted. The words slammed into her like bullets.

  “I don’t know what to do. Something needs to change. We need to move forward. We at least need to start talking.” He held out his hand. “I don’t want a divorce, but…”

  Her hand trembled when she placed it in his. Could she give him what he needed? Part of her screamed to go to him, do whatever it took to keep him. But another p
art had already run away, hidden deep in the shadows of her heart. He’d want all of her. Gabe would never be satisfied with less.

  He deserved so much more.

  She couldn’t meet his eyes. Her gaze remained riveted on her feet as he helped her up the steps.

  A wave of dizziness washed over her. She tried to focus on their feet. They stood toe-to-toe, his rounded loafers clean and scuff free, her bare toes peeking out of strappy sandals. Her unpolished nails blurred.

  Her eyelids drooped. So heavy. She fought to keep them open. Her knees buckled. A white haze obscured her vision.

  “Viv.” Gabe’s panicked cry reached her ears less than a second before they both crumpled to the ground.

  * * *

  “Drunk, I take it?”

  Viv winced as a vaguely familiar, querulous man’s voice pierced her aching head. Who was he talking about? Had some of the inn’s guests gotten rowdy? The reception noises had receded and all she could hear was a man and woman arguing.

  The woman’s voice was less grating on her nerves. She spoke softly, so Viv couldn’t really hear what was said, only a soft murmur in a light tone.

  The cold planks of the gazebo floor pressed against Viv’s spine. A faint hint of copper and a swelling in her mouth told her she’d bitten the inside of her cheek.

  “Go on, Agnes. See if you can get them up. You don’t want some drunk idiots ruining your great-nephew’s wedding.”

  Someone shook her shoulder gently. She forced her eyes open and saw an old woman peering down at her. The fog shrouding Viv’s mind prevented her from coming up with a name, but she could swear she recognized the lady.

  “What happened?” She squinted into the night. Haphazardly placed lanterns lit colorful gardens. One hung nearby, its light shining directly in her eyes. “Where’s my husband?”