Serenity Falls

by Aleman, Tiffany

  A Novel

  by Tiffany Aleman and Ashley Poch

  Serenity Falls

  Copyright © 2013 Tiffany Aleman & Ashley Poch

  ISBN: (eBook)

  www.tiffanyandashley2012@gmail.com

  All rights reserved. This book is not to be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any manner without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and for review purposes.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any resemblances to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

  Edited by Katie Mac (Katie Mac Editing)

  Cover design by Sarah Hansen (Okay Creations)

  Formatted by Tami Norman (Integrity Formatting)

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Playlist

  Acknowledgements

  “Kenleigh, wake up, Honey.” The desperation in my father’s voice next to my ear startles me awake. My eyes snap open. Black marks cover his handsome face, and his chest heaves up and down as if he’s just run a marathon. To see the normally strong man that I know completely paralyzed by fear is such an odd sight. Grasping my hand, he pulls me out of the bed, saying, “Stay low to the ground.”

  On my hands and knees, I can see the flicker of an orange glow from the crack beneath my bedroom door. “Daddy, what’s going on?” Panic begins to take over. I know I need to move, but fear has me frozen in place. Tears well up in my eyes as my room fills with a thick, black cloud of smoke. Our house is on fire.

  As he slithers across the floor in a low, army crawl, my father looks back over his shoulder, coughs from the smoke, and yells above the blaring fire alarm. “Kenleigh! You need to hurry up! Follow me.”

  “Daddy, I can’t. I’m scared.” My voice cracks from the horror that is now my reality. Tears glide down my face. I know we can’t make it down the stairs because of the flames outside my door, but I can’t stop wondering what will happen if we can’t get out the window.

  “I know you’re scared, but I promise I’m going to get you out of here.” My father tries to keep his voice calm so that I won’t panic any more than I already have. Jumping to his feet, he yanks me off the floor by my arm, throws me over his shoulder, and runs toward the bay window in my room. “Lift up the back of my shirt and put it over your face, Honey. Try not to breathe in the smoke,” he says through a heavy cough. I watch through the small gap between his arm and his body as his shaky hands unlock the window in my room. When he pushes it open, thick plumes of smoke travel in the direction of the outside, seeking its escape.

  After dropping me to my feet, he grabs onto my shoulders and between deep coughs says, “We’re going to have to climb down.” Shoving the windows open wider, he looks out, craning his neck in different directions. I know he’s trying to gauge the best way to get down. He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the window. Because heights terrify me, I dig my heels into the carpet to keep him from pulling me to my death. “Damn it, Kenleigh! We don’t have time for this. We have to get out now!” He shouts over the ear-piercing screech of the smoke detectors.

  As he snatches me and places me in front of him, he looks me in the eyes. “You’re going to have to climb down the gutter, okay?”

  “I can’t… I can’t do it. What if I fall? Where’s Mom? I need Mom!” I scream, shaking my head adamantly.

  “She’s already down there waiting for us. Now, please, Kenleigh, we have to go. I’ll be right behind you.” I watch as my father’s tears leave trails through the black marks on his face as he begs me to do what he told me.

  “Okay,” I whisper. Edging my way closer to the windowsill, my dad holds me around the waist. I lean out the window, grabbing onto the rain gutter that trails down the side of our summer lake house.

  “Put your feet right there on the brackets. Good, just like that, Kenleigh.” He reassures me as he lets me go. “Now go ahead and start climbing down. I have to wait until you’re at least halfway down before I can climb out.”

  I take a deep breath. I can do this. I have to do this. Slowly, I start sliding down the gutter when a loud pop startles me. Looking up, I see my dad making his way down, too. The gutter loosens beneath my grip as the brackets jerk, one by one, from the siding, and another loud pop sounds out in the night. Quickening my pace, I jump the last couple of feet down, land with a thud, and fall back on my behind.

  Before I have time to move, I’m lifted off the ground, only to find myself slung over my dad’s shoulder again. The movement of my father sprinting across our front yard bounces my head against his back, and a sigh of relief escapes when I realize that we are all okay. As he places me on my feet, I hear the loud sirens of the fire trucks and ambulances just as my father screams, “FUCK!”

  “What is it, Dad?” I look around to see what has made him react this way.

  My father doesn’t swear much, but when he does, you know that something is seriously wrong. When he cups my cheeks in his hands, I see the fear etched all over his face. “Stay right here, Kenleigh. I have to go back in and get your mom.” He looks back over his shoulder toward our smoldering home. “I guess she ran in when she realized it was taking us too long,” he coughs out as he turns back to me.

  My eyes widen in shock. “Daddy? No, you can’t be serious. You can’t go back in there.” My voice shakes as my body trembles. I see our house. Flames shoot out in all directions. The siding is melting. Parts of the rough have begun to cave in.

  “I have to. I have to go get your mother.” He leans down to kiss my forehead. “I love you, Kenleigh. Never forget that.” With that last word, he turns away from me and races back toward our house.

  I don’t want to believe what I’m thinking, but I could hear it in his voice when he said he loved me. It’s as if he knew it would be the last time he ever said it. Frozen in shock, I watch as his white T-shirt billows around his body from the speed he’s running. The collar of his shirt now covers his nose and his hands wave back and forth in an attempt to clear the smoke from in front of his face. After one last, loving glance at me, he turns and enters a house I’m sure he will never walk out of.

  Finally snapping out of my haze, I lurch forward to follow him, but strong arms capture me around my waist to hold me back. “NO, DADDY! DON’T GO! PLEASE! DADDY, PLEASE! COME BACK! LET GO OF ME! LET ME GO!” I scream at the top of my lungs as my body shakes violently from gut-wrenching sobs. My fingers try to pry away the hands from around my waist. Fighting a fight I won’t win, my body goes limp. I stand there, helpless, as seconds turn into minutes, waiting for my parents to emerge from the inferno that is consuming the lake house we vacation at every summer.

  The one thing that no one ever thinks will happen is happening to me. Plumes of smoke billow out of
the shattered windows as the flames dance across what is left of the roof. Firefighters exhaust all efforts to put out the blaze, but it is no use—I am twelve years old and just watched my parents die.

  My aunt finds me on my bed, a picture of my parents clutched tightly to my chest. It’s been five days and the emptiness of my parents loss continues to grow. Stabbing pain shoots through my heart every time I look at the happy family I no longer have. I voice the one question that I don’t want to ask.

  “Am I going to have to move?” I ask around the lump that seems to stay in my throat these days. Tears fall like raindrops onto my knees as I wait for my aunt to answer me.

  I don’t want to leave my home in Conroe, Texas. It’s the last thing I have left of my parents. So many happy memories live here for me. Thankfully, my Aunt Brenda, my mom’s younger sister by two years, has been staying with me the past few days. Kneeling in front of me, she envelops me in a hug. In a pained whisper, she says, “No, Honey, you’re not going to have to move. We’re going to live right here in your house, and you’ll still get to go to your school. I’m going to be the one taking care of you now, but nothing else will have to change for you.”

  As I hug her back, I cry just as hard as I did the night that I watched my parents die.

  “I miss them so much.” I’m broken by the pain as loss spears straight through to my heart.

  “I know, Baby Girl. I do, too, but we’re going to get through this,” she whispers, wiping back my bangs that seem glued to my tear stained face. I stare back into her sorrow-filled eyes. “We need to go now, though, okay?”

  I can’t speak, so I nod instead. I don’t want to go to the funeral home. I don’t want any of this. I want everything to go back to normal. I want my parents back.

  My movements are emotionless. I’m numb to the core as tears of sorrow, loss, and longing stream down my face. My lower lip trembles as I stand here and look at the two closed caskets that sit side-by-side. I know they’re never coming back, but I can’t accept it—not yet, anyway.

  As I rest a hand on each of their caskets, gruesome images of everything that happened the night of the fire flash before me. If we hadn’t been so far out in the country, maybe the fire trucks could have gotten there sooner. Maybe if more neighbors had been paying attention, there would’ve been more people to keep my mom and dad from going back in that house. Maybe if I had done what Daddy told me, they would still be here—alive.

  A soft touch pulls my wandering mind back, and I look up to my grief-stricken aunt who’s gently rubbing my shoulder. I know she’s saying something. I can see her lips moving, but I can’t hear her words. I shake my head, trying not to think of the what-ifs, and catch the tail end of what she’s trying to say. “Kenleigh. Kenleigh, Honey, we have to go now. We have to go to the cemetery.”

  Unable to speak, I nod, and as I look back at the caskets, I realize that this will be the last time I will ever see my parents. Slowly, I lean over, place a kiss on each casket, and brokenly whisper, “I’m going to miss you so much. I love you.”

  The last of my bags are loaded in the back of the black, Jeep Wrangler Rubicon that used to belong to my mother. I sigh, knowing how much I’m going to miss campus life. I realize it’s only for the summer, but I’ve come to love San Antonio. As I climb into the Jeep, I stare back at what has been my home for the past year. Tucked between large oak and cedar trees that adorn the University of Texas, San Antonio campus, white stucco buildings with red roof tiles give the dorms that old Mexico feel. With my sunglasses shielding my eyes from the bright sun, I start the Jeep, push in the clutch, and shift to reverse. Cameron, Texas, here I come.

  About an hour later, Garth Brooks’ Rodeo blares through the speakers as I pull onto an old gravel road. For eight miles, my Jeep hits pothole after pothole, tossing me around like a rag doll. With the top down and the doors off, the warm, summer air funnels in all around me. My long, brown hair whips me in the face, sticking to the corners of my mouth. Slowing down, I pull up to an arched, black, wrought iron sign reading Serenity Falls. I punch in the code to open the gates. As they swing wide, I inch my Jeep through. Large, rolling hills covered in green grass surround me on either side. These thirty acres of land in the middle of the Texas hill country have become a second home to me—my little piece of Heaven. I came here last summer as a volunteer to help disabled children. I watched as they bonded with the horses and learned how to ride. The impact it had on me was life altering, and that’s why I’m back.

  The owners, Mr. and Mrs. Adams, are great. They started a not-for-profit organization that helps children with disabilities ranging from muscular dystrophy to depression. What I love the most are the smiles I get to see and the relationships I form with the children.

  Shortly after my parents died, I slipped into a deep depression. Everybody at school treated me as if I were made out of glass. I no longer participated in sports. I quit talking to my friends. Hell, I pretty much stopped talking all together. That’s when my Aunt Brenda found this horse ranch in Conroe and asked if I wanted to take lessons. Well, actually, I didn’t have much of a choice, since she dragged me out there anyway. And honestly, it was the best thing she could’ve ever done for me. She saved me in more ways than I can count. I found myself again.

  Pulling up in front of a red, weathered, wooden barn, I park and jump out of the Jeep. Vines with bright, white flowers crawl up the front panels, sprawl out, and cover the front of the wooden structure. When I take a deep breath, the smell of honeysuckle drifts through the wind and brings a smile to my face.

  I enter the breezeway of the barn in search for the one thing I’ve been waiting to see since last summer. Autumn! Her brown and white spots are vibrant, and her long, white mane looks like silk. She’s still the most beautiful Appaloosa that I have ever seen.

  Clicking my tongue, I call her over to me. “Autumn, come here, girl.” A brown satchel filled with apples hangs from a hook outside her stall. The old, worn leather rustles against the wooden beam as I reach in to retrieve the delicious, red fruit. Autumn’s head whips in my direction as I click my tongue again, wave the apple at her, and coax her over to me.

  Grabbing hold of the bridle, I hold her to me, caressing her muzzle as I feed her the apple. “I’ve missed you so much. Are you ready to have another exciting summer?” I ask in a singsong voice. Caught up in the moment of the reunion with my favorite horse, I’m startled when I hear a man speak.

  “She won’t be riding around here much this summer. She’s pregnant.”

  The voice to my right brings a wide smile to my face. Standing beside me, in his worn, Wrangler jeans, dark, blue, long-sleeved, button-down shirt, cowboy boots, and his salt-and-pepper hair is Mr. Adams. “Mr. Adams. Hey. How have you been?” I ask, excited to see him.

  “I’ve been good, Miss Briggs. How about yourself?”

  I smile at him before turning my attention back to the horse. “You know to call me Kenleigh. But I’ve been good. I just finished my freshman year of college at UTSA.”

  “And Kenleigh, you know to call me Will. After last summer, you’re like family around here.”

  I nod, unable to tear my eyes away from the majestic horse. “Thanks. So, Autumn is pregnant, huh?”

  “Yep, she is. Due sometime this summer, but don’t worry. I have two new Appaloosas down at the other end of the barn. Maybe you could help me get them broken in. My son’s coming home for the summer and said he’d help too. Walk with me,” he says, nodding toward the end of the barn once I turn my attention to him.

  After handing Autumn one more apple, I reluctantly let go of her bridle and stroll down to see Will’s two new pride and joys. I pass by eight other stalls, which house two Paints with their own distinctive markings, two Palominos, one, cream colored and the other, brown, and three Pintos all with their own unique color patterns. “So, how’s Mrs. Adams?”

  “She’s good. As soon as she saw you pull up and jump out of the Jeep, she called me to say that you wer
e here. That woman knew you’d come in here lookin’ for Autumn. I told her I’d come getcha. She’s been dying to see you. Don’t tell her that I showed you these horses first, though. I’d never hear the end of it,” he says with a smile. The faint lines around his eyes wouldn’t give away the fact that he works from sun up to sun down.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, here we are. Whatcha think? This is Lucy,” he says, pointing to the first horse. He nods at the second horse. “And that one there’s Jane.” Lucy’s entire dark, brown coat is speckled with white spots while her rich, brown mane hangs effortlessly down her long, muscular neck. Jane is mostly white with her backend splattered in light, brown markings. What makes her different is her golden brown mane.

  “You’re right, they are beautiful. Have they been ridden at all since they arrived at the ranch?”

  He shakes his head. “A little, but not enough to put any of the kids on ‘em. They’re still kind of skittish around people. I’m hoping that you and Wes will help ease them out of their shells.”

  “Wes?” My furrowed eyebrows show my confusion, until I realize whom he’s talking about. “Y’all’s son?” It’s as if a light bulb just switched on, and I remembered how Mrs. Adams showed me pictures of him last summer from when he was younger.

  “Yep. Y’all will get along real well.”

  “Oh, okay. It was good to see you, but I better go and see Mrs. Adams before you get into trouble.” I head out of the back of the barn.

  Just as I turn the corner out of sight, I hear Will yell, “Sandy. You know that woman will tan your hide if you call her Mrs. Adams.”

  Chuckling, I head toward the main house about a hundred yards from the stables. A white wraparound porch comes into view with picturesque flowers lined up in front of the house. White, pink, red, and yellow blooms trace a border in front of the porch on either side of the steps.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, I skid to a halt right before the screen door smacks me in the face. “Kenleigh! I’m so happy you’re here!” Sandy screeches in my ear as she pulls me in for a hug.