by TC Rybicki
TC Rybicki
Copyright © TC Rybicki
Cover Design © Drop Dead Designs
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Proofing/Editing by Jenny Dillion, of Prologue & Prose www.proseeditor.com/
Cover design by Kristyn McQuiggan of Drop Dead Designs www.dropdeaddesigns.com/
Formatting- Tami Norman from Integrity Formatting
www.integrityformatting.wixsite.com/integrity-formatting
The Price of Penny
Harmony
Destiny’s Turn
To Charlene because she believes in me even the days I don’t.
Other Titles by T.C. Rybicki
Dedication
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
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Poetry Index
About the Author
Coming Soon
A murky fog of dust swirled behind my theatrical exit. I looked back once at the tainted view, happy I couldn’t see what remained. I left home without warning, barely a goodbye. My mother. My brothers. My old life. I’d miss those things, at least a little. They were not the reason for my decision or what this day was truly about. I was leaving him.
He was my whole world, and now he was nothing, but a memory if I even gave him that much. I didn’t have a choice. I did it for him, but he wouldn’t listen to any of my excuses. I died a little on the inside because of my decision. His response, “Get out of my sight.” He never wanted to see me again. Relationships were based on love, trust, and forgiveness- all broken between us. I could accept blame for my part, but not all of this is my fault.
In my mind, I made the ultimate sacrifice for his success in life.
I was wrong.
He was wrong.
We were wrong.
Forbidden love comes with a price. I know that now. The view of the open road was all I saw ahead, and I made a vow. Love was for losers and the hopeless. I would never live for love again. I did that once and it almost broke me. I promised myself from now on I’d live only for myself. I was sure it was the only way to find happiness. God knows living for someone else just caused misery.
I was young enough to start anew. New day, new motto, new me. I’d get what I deserve and settle for nothing less. I silently told The Groves goodbye. I surely won’t miss being tied to a plot of land like Mom.
As far as my first and only love, I wanted to say the same thing about him. I let the loss sink in one more time. I’d never admit it because of my new mantra, but I knew I’d love him until the day I died, and no one else would ever have that place in my heart. I doubt he knew or cared at this point. I guess I could send one final farewell letter, but it was probably best if I never gave him another thought.
My head snapped in response to Gram’s voice. Upright before daylight in the summer was torture. This could not be my new existence. I had to be in a rural nightmare not reality. I loved my grandmother but never thought that meant I needed to live with her.
“Syd. I’m talking to you. This is important. The Groves is a living, breathing entity. Rest is reserved for nighttime. You are my granddaughter, but you have jobs to fulfill. Your mother made me a promise.”
Hearing mention of Mom made my empty stomach wrench. This was all my parents’ fault, but I blamed her the most. Daddy wasn’t the terrible person portrayed by the papers, but he made mistakes… big ones. Dad was my hero, and now he resided in a federal prison in an unknown location because of an investment scheme tangled around his name. I didn’t know all the details. The adults tried to shield me even though my nineteenth birthday was just around the corner. I’m not the child they all still treat me like. I’m smarter than they give me credit for. Sure, I didn’t earn scholarships because we could easily pay my way into any university of my choosing, but I’m not dumb. Dad only tried to keep up with Mom’s extravagance. She is a demanding shrew. She managed to store away enough to pay for her plush nut farm while Daddy wastes away in prison but didn’t manage to save a dime for my living situation. I hate her. How could my hardworking grandmother spawn such an offspring?
I fully awakened after thinking about the outcomes we were all forced to suffer. My eyes cut to the right to make contact with Gram’s faded blue ones. I fought back the waterworks. She apologized for the sudden wake-up alarm: a bona fide ‘cock-a-doodle-doo doo’ rooster recording. My heart stopped and then thrummed a steady 120 beats per minute like I’d hopped on the elliptical first thing in the morning. That was not my style.
Gram was a mix of a sweet grandmother and an iron-fisted dictator. She pulled it off like no one else. “I know what you’re thinking about your mother and promises. She’s disappointed me too, child, but I love her. She ain’t perfect. I blame myself at times, but we can’t stay in the past. There’s no future there… is there?”
“Gram. How could it be your fault? You raised her right.”
“Lord knows I tried. She fought me every step of the way. She literally came out of the womb thinking life owed her. Her father spoiled her rotten and then he up and ran off leaving me with the result of years of overindulgence. I know you have more sense, Sydney. I’ve always known that about you. You’re more like me, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have some adjustments in your future. You’ve lived a lavish lifestyle as a city girl and zero spending cap. Even though I’m not hurting, I don’t live that flashy way and you know it. Your granddad left me high and dry, practically penniless because of our bills with three kids. I didn’t get to where I am because I crumbled in a heap on the floor. You might think you lost everything, but I’m here to tell you as long as you draw breath, have half a brain and two strong hands, you’ve got something.”
Gram poured my coffee and placed an abundant helping of various breakfast items in front of me. It smelled nice, but I would never eat this sort of cheat meal. “Um, Gram. That looks a little heavy at the butt-crack of dawn. I usually just have fruit or yogurt in the morning.”
“Butt-crack? Learn to tell time. Dawn was over an hour ago. Listen up. You’re here to help run a full capacity bed-and-breakfast, plus a successful farm and orchard. A yogurt isn’t going to hold you until lunch, and you’re too damn bony as it is. Eat.”
I felt self-conscious about my weight. Body size was a typical self-esteem issue for most girls my age, but mine was for opposite reasons. I had a fast metabolism like
Dad’s, and the recent stress caused me to lose more than I liked. My clothes hung on me like bags, and I no longer could hop in Raquel and drive to the nearest shopping establishment to buy a new wardrobe. Gram wasn’t offering an allowance either. I had to work full-time as long as I lived here. I had no other place to go. Mom was in Florida fixing her sick mind, supposedly, and none of Dad’s family offered. Most of my friends pretended they didn’t even know me now, and they were all making plans for their first year at college. My only hope was to save and apply next year, but I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go. I knew what I wanted to do, and college really couldn’t teach what was already embedded deep within me. Grant was the only reason I wanted to go before, and the odds of getting admitted at the University of Texas now were slim to none.
I stared at the eggs with cheese and meat. So much fat and calories which I desperately needed but couldn’t will myself to try. I thought about what I didn’t have instead.
Dad.
Grant.
Money.
My beautiful home.
Raquel.
Oh crap. How was I supposed to get these errands done? Gram headed out to oversee breakfast in the main dining hall, so I rushed to catch her before she got too busy.
“How am I supposed to get to town? I lost Raquel in the sentencing.”
“Who?”
“Raquel, my Range Rover.” The entire phrase pained me to the depths of my soul. I loved that car. Daddy presented it to me on my sixteenth birthday. He offered to trade it in for a new version before all the shit hit the fan, but I wasn’t ready to let go of Raquel for Raquel, the sequel.
“You named that fancy-pants contraption you drove around?”
“Yes, of course. Cars have personalities. We named all our vehicles.”
“Good Christ. It’s worse than I thought. Keys to the farm truck are in the drawer by the phone. That will be yours for now. If it gives you any problems, ask Frisco, and he’ll give it a kick in the ass. He keeps that old heap running.”
She expected me to drive something she called a heap that might or might not run. Why Daddy? Why did you take those people’s money when you knew something wasn’t right? I wanted to cry for the millionth time, but Gram would not allow it. She dried my tears the first night I arrived and said let it all out, so we didn’t have to see it again.
She asked if I ate breakfast that fast. I hadn’t even touched it, but I could tell by her expression, I better clean my plate. I twisted on my heels and marched back to our private residence. It took all my willpower to swallow down the last bite, but I washed the last bit of eggs with a glass of fresh pressed apple juice. We made the juice on-site, and it was better than anything ever bottled and sold at the grocery store.
“Get a move on, girl. I need those supplies.”
“Sorry, I cleaned my plate.”
“Good, I’ll pin a medal on you tonight at dinner. I forgot to tell you, the truck’s orange. You can’t miss it.”
I grimaced at the thought of being near anything orange. “Okay, I’ll head out as soon as I shower and change.”
“You mean to tell me you still ain’t ready?”
“No, these are my sleep pants.”
“I can’t tell the difference these days. Syd, I need you to be fast. Forget the shower. You smell like a rose garden most of the time.” She stopped me before I ran up the stairs. I thought she might want to hug as encouragement.
Instead, she grabbed my hands, “Those need to be clipped off. You can’t run the sheller with nails like that.”
My gel manicure was the last treat I enjoyed before my credit card stopped working. “These are acrylic. I paid almost a hundred dollars for this set. I can’t chop them off. That’s a sacrilege.”
“No, wasting that much money on fingernails is the true sacrilege. Don’t you know there’s starving babies out there and three-legged dogs no one wants? Honestly, girl. You’re better than that. Get rid of those nails by tomorrow or I will.”
I stared at my matte periwinkle nails. These were practically a masterpiece. Gram couldn’t be serious. I would show her they wouldn’t get in the way. “I’ll fight for you,” I whispered to them.
I hated skipping the shower, but I had a long soak in the claw-foot tub before bed. I guess I didn’t smell, but my morning showers gave me more of a kick than a cup of coffee. Although, I took them around nine or ten, not at seven. I couldn’t believe I’d been up for over an hour. I glanced at the to-do list again. The supplies would take most of the morning. After lunch, I was supposed to shadow a few employees to learn various tasks around the orchard. I thought I would be better utilized in the B&B, but Gram was worried someone might recognize me if I stayed inside day and night. She assured me she wasn’t ashamed of me, but she didn’t want me to be judged for what happened. We decided I would take her last name as a precaution for my anonymity. Not many people around Gram’s realized who her daughter married or what she’d been up to the past couple of decades.
I finally got the garage door open. Now I wished I hadn’t. This is awful. Orange sounded bad, but the truck was mostly rust, not paint. No way, I couldn’t drive it. Then again, who would see? No one knew me here. I had no friends, no life. I mourned Raquel some more when I settled my jean-clad bootie on the weathered seat.
“I’m a hick.” I wasn’t, but I fit the description. I wore my most unfortunate casual clothes and drove a rusty old pickup truck. I continued the conversation with myself as I started it up. “Great. You’re loud too. Everyone will see and hear us coming. Well, at least you run.” A few sputters as I cruised down the long driveway hinted that I might have spoken too soon. The grinding brakes could be heard a mile away when I pulled to a stop at the main road. “You’re no Raquel, that’s for sure.” I only needed to drive about five miles down the road to determine the truck would further be known as Rusty. It fit in more ways than one.
“Rusty, don’t you dare break down on me. I forgot my phone.” This was bad. I barely knew my way around all the twists and turns on these Hill Country roads. I was used to freeways, bridges, and bumper-to-bumper traffic. It was rare to spot a car every seven minutes out here. It’s a wonder Gram did so well being in the middle of nowhere, but she was on the river. That drew the tourists outside of civilization, especially the big city folks as Gram put it. Her prime location was the reason that a certain real estate swindler wouldn’t leave her alone. Gram and I stayed up late the night before, so she could give me all the details about one Paul Ellsworth and his quest to buy out Gram. All her neighbors sold, but she never would. She expected him to play dirty from here on out, so she told me to be cautious who I talked to when she wasn’t around. Mr. Ellsworth wanted to bulldoze the land and make a resort on one side of the river and new housing development on the other.
I followed the signs into Uvalde. Gram’s place was almost halfway between Leakey and Uvalde with the Frio River practically in her backyard. I wished I would’ve spent more time here growing up. The area conjured certain feelings I never experienced the entire time I lived in Dallas, and that was always good for my love affair with words. Just before making it to town, I made a promise to get the daily tasks done, so I could take a dip in the river. I hadn’t stepped foot in that river since I was eleven and that was sad. The time for sadness was over. This was my first appearance in public as Sydney Littlefield. Sydney Hagel would vanish permanently, and maybe that was a good thing.
The coffee cooled to the perfect temperature. I had it down to a science. The timer on my wrist buzzed alerting me to have my first sip of the morning. I stopped off at the bookstore at least three times a week since moving back to my hometown. It wasn’t because I loved books that much. I’d come for business, not entertainment, but they also served a mean cup of java, so there was some pleasure involved. It gets me out of the house, away from work and mostly Dad. I regretted taking a job with his company almost daily instead of grabbing one of my many other offers after graduating from McCombs. I’m
not a quitter, so I intend to stick it out long enough to secure this land deal. We hit a roadblock, and I needed to explore any and every other option because the feisty Mrs. Littlefield wasn’t going to budge. Dad said she would. I didn’t think so, and I didn’t exactly blame her.
I shook my head remembering the lengths it took to get a few of those tracts of land. I wasn’t exactly proud of that last one. The rumors spread about me, and I garnished a little mean mugging from the female population around town, but most of the things said were false. Namely, I wasn’t some gigolo. I never slept with that woman and no money changed hands until she legally sold Dad her property. Had I led her on? Yes. Did I have questionable ethics? Probably. She was hot in a MILF sort of way. We were cool now. She moved on and I put the past behind me. Dad bragged about me for once because he predicted having two holdouts, but thanks to me, he only had one. I hated the impulse to please him like I was some damn kid.
Cora dropped off my last book order, “Another one? Don’t you ever read for fun or feeling?”
“Real estate law thrills me to the bone; that’s the only feeling I need.” I flashed the grin that made Cora giggle like a school girl, but she waved off my denials. Cora was in her mid-sixties, the owner of the establishment, and enjoyed flirting with me despite the age difference and her marital status. I hid from the outside world regularly at this coffee shop. The flirting was polite and enjoyable to pass the time. Her husband didn’t care. He knew me well. George taught me high school chemistry. Cora ran the library at school, and when they retired, they kept their love of learning alive in a new, mildly profitable manner.
She huffed her response. “No wonder you never have female company. You’re far too handsome to be this boring, you know. It’s not too late. I can get my granddaughter to come for a visit. It’s here or Cancun. She hasn’t decided yet.”
“I’m sure her summer vacation would be better spent in Mexico. Don’t confuse the poor girl with promises that this town has any excitement.” I meant that. I loved my hometown, but I had nothing to offer Cora’s granddaughter. Work consumed me, no time for women.