This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, dead or alive are a figment of my imagination and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s mind's eye and are not to be interpreted as real.
All rights Reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Jettie Woodruff
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author.
Acknowledgements
I have no clue where to even begin. This has been a crazy year. I’ve met some amazing new author friends, and I’ve gained a crazy fan base. I wouldn’t be where I am today without both of them. THANK YOU!
To all the blogs who do what they do. Hats off to you, my friends. My dirty girl group. Thank you for following me the way you do, thank you for being there when my son had his accident, and thank you for all the kind words and donations. I love you guys!!!
Team J. You guys ROCK! All of you!
Nikki Reeves, girl—
I don’t know what I would do without you. Lesley Edwards, Catharine Gray, Connie Thompson, Erin McFarland, Karen Benton, Tiffany Daniels, Brandi Reeves, Katie Theobald, and Amy Davis. My awesome review team. You guys are my rock. Thanks for being there for every single book, through all the changes, the start overs, and the altering stories and plots. I <3 you.
Tabatha Thompson for singing me Journey.
Jenna Dixon, you are my shining star! Thanks for all your help, for answering my annoying messages, and for all the love and support. I don’t know what I would do without you. I <3 you!
Sheila Howell, Thank you for all you do for me. M. Robinson, well…Who would have thought? Heather Moss. Thanks for a rocking, blog tour and all the help.
YOU ROCK!
https://www.facebook.com/LikeABossBookPromotions?fref=ts
Jillian Toth and Karen Steer, Best Proofreaders Ever. Thank YOU!
http://karensbookhaven.com/editing-services/
Rebecca Marie
For the best teasers and graphics this side of Texas!
http://www.thefinalwrap.com/
TO ALL MY FANS AND FOLLOWERS!
THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Prologue
The room filled with darkness as the heavy clouds lingered over the neighborhood.
“Is it going to storm now?” Rowan asked as she joined me at the window. I smiled down at her and ran my hand through her long hair. My palm rested on her back, covering it entirely as we stared up at the sky, the earlier bright blue gone, replaced with a cold, charcoal gray.
“Pretty soon. Are you all set in case we lose our power?” The wild energy of the storm loomed before us, sending a rush of rain-scented air and a prickle of apprehension up my spine.
“I don’t like it when it storms.”
“I like it,” Ophelia interjected, her little body squeezing between her sister and me. She wanted to see the storm, too.
“Are you kidding me? It’s fun,” I lied. I hated them, too. Had ever since I was a little girl. Rowan was the same way.
Ophelia cupped one hand over her brow as if the sun was bright. Up to a sun hidden somewhere behind dark clouds.
I sucked my lips between my teeth to keep from laughing. “I don’t see it. Where’s the storm?”
“Can I sleep in your bed?” Rowan asked, worry in her crystal-blue eyes. Rowan looked up for the answer and I grinned at her, brushing a lock of her blond hair aside.
“I was talking first, Rowan,” Ophelia said with angry words and a shove.
“Hey, stop that. We’ll see, Rowan. Let’s run to the store and pick up a few things. Just in case. Maybe we can stop at the park for a little bit. I’m going to go tell daddy we’re leaving. You clean up your crayons. There’s one under the sofa, too,” I said with a nod toward the coffee table. I turned my attention toward her sister, ordering her help with the mess. “Ophelia, help pick up the crayons.”
Ophelia did a flip over the sofa, assuring me upside down that she had nothing to do with it. “I didn’t do it. Rowan dumped them all out.”
Rowan dramatically complained. Full-on attitude, cocked hip and all. “I did not. You did it when you were looking for the green one. You’re lying. She is, Mom.”
I walked away from the front room with a stern look, a straight finger pointed from one to the other. I reminded them with a gesture toward the door that their father was home. That quieted the argument. Paxton had worked at home that day, giving his crew the afternoon off in order to get ready for the approaching weather.
The tinted glass at the end of the hall did little to hide the impending conditions. It didn’t look like the tropical storm was going to miss us. The last time I had looked, the swirling red circle on TV aimed a dead hit at us. I prayed that it was wrong. The weatherman always got it wrong. Maybe it would turn at the last minute.
With a deep breath of courage, I knocked on Paxton’s office door. I hadn’t seen him since breakfast. Unsure of his mood, I hesitated and then tapped lightly.
“Yes?” Okay, that didn’t sound too bad. At least it wasn’t a hateful “What?” His tone sounded distracted, like he was busy. I pushed the door open and entered the office. Work didn’t occupy him. Instead, the update on the weather had his attention. Paxton’s eyebrows turned inward, one finger in the air, indicating I wait while he listened to the drama behind the chaos. As soon as he dropped his finger and looked at me with a nod, I spoke.
“I’m going to run to the store for a few things before it makes landfall.”
“Didn’t you just go to the store a couple of days ago?”
“Yes, but if we lose power, the store will be out of milk in a day. I forgot milk—and I better pick up a case of water, too. Is the generator ready to go?”
“The generator is not your department. Milk, however, is. You’re so irresponsible,” Paxton said with a heavy sigh and a frown. “Tell me… How does a mother forget milk? You only have two things to take care of. Two little girls and a home.” He stood and walked to the front of his desk where he rested his butt, a condescending glare on me
I wished that were the case. A house and two little girls meant way more than two things to take care of. If he came home and told me he signed the girls up for one more activity, I may have killed him. I didn’t need to remind him of what I did around there. Not that I could have anyway. He would have just shut me up. Besides, I didn’t really mind it. I loved my job. I took pride in my home and my family, keeping everything running smoothly just the way Paxton liked them.
I did, however, remind him why I hadn’t gotten everything I needed. “It was the day Rowan got stung by a bee. She was crying. I was in a hurry.”
Paxton crossed his ankles and rubbed his chin in deep thought. “Oh, right. That was the day you let her get stung by a bee.”
I held his gaze because I had to. Just like I didn’t speak until he did. I wasn’t about to comment on that one. No matter what I said, it would be the wrong answer. The bee had be
en in the car. It wasn’t like I’d told her go step on a bee. She’d swatted at it and it landed right between her legs where it stung her. Just above her knee.
“Don’t take the girls.”
“Why? I promised Rowan we would go to the park.”
“Go to the store and get back. If this storm keeps coming like this, we’re going inland. We’ll get a hotel somewhere. Don’t take the girls. She’s got the playset right out back that I built. They can play outside here. One hour,” Paxton ordered while he held my stare and talked to me in short sentences like I was five. With one finger in the air, he shot me a stern glare, and waited for a reply.
“Yes, okay,” I cowered and cast my gaze toward the floor.
“Close the door on your way out” he ordered with a brusque goodbye. He lowered his head, dismissing me.
I obeyed with a soft exhale and left his office.
“Jake said Rowan is a boy name,” Rowan claimed out of the blue as I entered the living room. My eyebrows arched toward the ceiling, wondering where that came from. Her attention moved from the television to the crayon box. I had no idea why she said that. She hadn’t even seen Jake since dance class, two days before. I sat beside her on the sofa and stared up at the preschool show on television.
“He did? Well, it’s not. Rowan is a queen of an enchanted land. In a perfect parallel world.”
“Where’s that?”
“In here.” I winked at her, fingers tapping lightly over her heart. “It’s where people never get sick, they’re always happy, and they love each other wholeheartedly.”
“And I’m the queen?” Rowan questioned with an impish grin.
“And me, too?” Ophelia wanted to know.
“Yes, for sure. You’re both my little queens.” I gathered my purse and an umbrella. “Now, I’m going to get going before the rain starts. I’ll be back in a little bit.”
Rowan slid from the couch, not about to be left behind. “You said I could come, too.”
“I know, but I want to get back before it storms. I’ll bring you something.”
“I started your car. Let’s go find a snack, Rowan,” Paxton said from the door. That was his subtle way of telling me he checked the mileage on my odometer.
I stood and thanked him.
“I’m going with my mommy,” Rowan insisted as her little hand slid into mine.
“And me, too,” Ophelia said just as persistent. She stood, took two steps, and tripped over her own feet. Paxton and I both turned toward the thump and laughed. She jumped up like a trooper and took my other hand.
“Neither one of you are going. There’s a tropical storm coming. Let your mom go so she can get back here. Who wants ice cream?”
Of course that did it. They both tossed little arms in the air, yelling in agreement, “Meeeee.”
Rowan took off, heading toward the kitchen, fixated on ice cream, Ophelia right behind. Rowan skipped like a pro, and her little sister followed suit with a hop, a skip, and a jump. She tried like hell to follow her big sister’s professional moves, but didn’t quite have it. Close, but not quite. I beamed after her, completely in love as she yelled her intent to have the pink spoon.
Paxton strolled toward me, a smirk in a thin line across his lips. His hand pulled me to his body from the small of my back and I fell into him. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are? I love this dress. Now if you just had a little lipstick. Red lips. Hmmm,” he hummed while whispering warm words in my ear. After a long moment of taunting me with soft kisses, he said, “You should probably get going.” His lips caressed my skin and I held my breath. It was Florida. If he thought I was sexy, it wasn’t from trying. I had my hair in a messy bun on top of my head and I wore little makeup, a plain maxi-dress, and sandals. And I sure as hell wasn’t about to wear lipstick.
“I’ll see you in a little bit.” I pulled away and he drew me back, holding my fingers with his. His thumb brushed over my hand while his eyes held mine.
“According to the weather channel, we have about four hours to buckle down.”
“I promise to be home before the storm,” I said with a hidden sneer. For a split second, I thought I’d pulled off the sarcasm. But Paxton knew exactly what lay behind my words. The storm wasn’t supposed to hit for another four or so hours. I couldn’t be ten minutes late. Never mind four hours.
Paxton narrowed his eyes with a crooked grin and patted my ass. “Hurry back, love.”
I walked out to my car, which Paxton had already backed out of the garage. I’d hit a trashcan once. One time. Now Paxton always backed it out for me, leaving the motor idling as if I didn’t know how to start a car. Another way for him to be better than me, make me feel less than him. It didn’t bother me, not really. I’d grown used to it, and this was a brand-new car. It was mine, bought for me…but not really. He would be quick to remind me that it was in his name if need be. That and everything else within my sight.
A cool shudder traveled down my spine when I felt the eerie atmosphere. The neighborhood sounded quiet, matching the gloomy overcast. My eyes drifted to the time on the clock as I backed out of my drive, just after two. It seemed more like nine o’clock at night. Even the neighborhood seemed glum, with empty yards and boarded-up windows.
My eyes shifted to my neighbor’s house. My best friend—for now, anyway. I sighed and shook my head. I couldn’t think about that. Not now. I’d think about that later, when I had to. The liftgate was up on Candace’s car and a black duffle bag sat on the ground. Lane must have decided they were going inland. I hoped we were, too. I wasn’t overjoyed about the rain and wind, pelting our house half the night. It gave me the creeps just thinking about it. My other neighbors, Tricia and Brant, must have gone already. The ghostly atmosphere of their house matched the neighborhood. A tire swing in the side yard swayed lightly with the wind.
How eerie.
There’d been something I thought of earlier that I wanted to add to my list. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember what it was. I searched my brain and frowned at the mirror when I watched the strange car pull out behind me. The old Honda didn’t appear to belong on our cul-de-sac—nothing about it rang as familiar. I turned the annoying voice down on the radio, reminding us again of the tropical storm. They were repeating the same thing. Over and over. We probably wouldn’t get any of it.
“Band-Aids,” I called aloud, still watching the car behind me. My girls went through more Band-Aids than anyone I knew. Every little scratch justified a bandage. I turned right, and the car behind me followed. A shortcut to the left had the same results. That’s when the surge of nerves hit.
My heart sped up a bit when I saw the driver. Was it? Surely not. My eyes stayed focused on the driver while the beating in my chest thumped faster and faster. I pulled into the First Carter Bank parking lot with trembling hands, a dry mouth, and a yearning stronger than I had ever felt in my life. The old car followed, parking right beside me. She didn’t waste any time. Not one second. She was at my door in two point seven seconds.
My hand covered my mouth with an audible breath and tears instantly formed in my eyes. I blinked away my blurred vision and opened the door. Words can’t begin to describe that feeling. I didn’t know if it was a sister thing or a twin thing, but it was there. A bond that can never be broken. Strong like it always had been. Seeing her face, knowing she was right in front of me, watching her walk toward me. It was all so surreal. It was her. My sister. My twin. A hazy ache formed in my chest, settling to the pit of my stomach. My entire body shook with anticipation, and I could hear beating with loud thumps in both my ears.
I was blindsided for a second, unsure of what I should call her. Choosing the safe route, I didn’t refer to her by any name.
“Oh, my God. What are you doing here?” It was haunting. I didn’t even remember getting out of my car. It was like seeing myself, but not really. She even wore a similar dress and had her hair back. I read once that twins separated at birth and raised apart often lived the same wa
y. Her taste was the same as mine. I swear, it was like seeing myself in a mirror. Even more now than before.
Her fingers ran through her hair and she pulled on it with a tight grasp in both fists. The expression on her face surpassed the surprise on mine, and I noticed the swallow. A lump. Probably the same as the one I had. “Gabby! Oh, my God!”
“Izzy, what are you doing here?” Not waiting for her answer, I said, “I don’t have much time. I’ve got to get going.” My palms sweated and my body shook as if Paxton watched from around the corner. I wrung my hands and worried about this outcome. It was critical that Paxton not find out about this.
Izzy gawked at me like I had just slapped her across the face. Twice. Complete disbelief. “Are you joking? You desert your sister for almost thirteen years, and you’ve got to get going?”
My head tilted to the side, guilt riding my conscience. “I didn’t desert you,” I said in an unconvincing tone.
Izzy smiled and tilted her head the exact same way I had. Paxton used to tell me to stop doing it all the time. Sometimes, I still did it, forgetting that he forbade it.
“I’m kidding. How are you? You look, well, just like me.” Everything in me told me to brush her off, continue on my mission, and get home to my family. I tried my best to send her away. It was right there on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to sit on my sofa with her and catch up. Huddle up in pajamas and watch a movie. Find out what she’d been doing and let her meet her nieces.
I mirrored her smile and tilted my head—again—thinking about the ticking of the clock. I didn’t have time for this. Paxton would be furious if I came home empty handed. I had to go, yet I didn’t. I couldn’t. A hurricane could have been coming and I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. I laughed inwardly at my inside joke when I remembered a hurricane was coming. A tropical storm, anyway.
“Let’s go get a cup of coffee or something,” Izzy suggested with a pleading tone and sad eyes. I couldn’t blow her off. I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to.
“Izz, I can’t. We’re under severe weather warnings, you know? I have to get home. Rowan doesn’t do well with storms.”
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