by Stacey Wilk
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Praise for Stacey Wilk
Time Won’t Erase
Copyright
Dedication
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
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Enjoy this excerpt from
Chapter One
A word about the author…
Thank you for purchasing
Also available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
He wouldn’t allow her to stay out at the motel all by herself. She’d be safe on his ranch and down the hall from his brother with plenty of firearms and ammo.
“I can’t go there.” She pushed away from him.
Her body heat dissipated, and he missed it instantly. “Mom will be glad to have you there.”
“Your mother doesn’t want me there. And Jett. He hates me.”
“That isn’t true.”
“I hurt you. It’s only natural for them to side with you.”
“Calista, can you put the past aside for one damn night? You were hurt in a robbery and should be at the hospital. If you won’t go home, then come home with me so someone can keep an eye on you.” He wanted to blur the line that separated his life into two parts. The first part was the one with Ajay, Ava, and Calista in it, and it was filled with sound and textures. The second part was the one without, and it was silent and hollow. Even though he had Izzi during that second part, and she filled in so many spaces for him, he wanted something he could never have.
“I couldn’t bear having your mother fuss all over me.”
“You’re being ridiculous. She loves to fuss.” He hoped humor would light the way to reason.
“It hurts too much when she’s nice to me. Her kindness only spotlights what’s missing in my life.”
“Your mother.” Her mother had walked out on her family not long after Ava died. That was probably his fault too.
“No. Not my mother. You.”
Praise for Stacey Wilk
“Wilk pens a heart-gripping story that will leave you breathless.”
~Jen Talty, USA Today Bestselling Author
~*~
And for her book THE ESSENCE OF WHISKEY AND TEA:
“If you enjoy a good series about family and love, then this novel is sure to soothe your soul.”
~Booktrib
~*~
And for this book, TIME WON’T ERASE:
“The power of redemption shines in this emotional story about second chances.”
~Caridad Pineiro, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author
Time Won’t Erase
by
Stacey Wilk
Big Sky Country, Book 1
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Time Won’t Erase
COPYRIGHT © 2020 by Stacey Wilk
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Diana Carlile
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Champagne Rose Edition, 2020
Trade Paperback ISBN 978-1-5092-3264-2
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-3265-9
Big Sky Country, Book 1
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
This book is dedicated to Janice and Anne.
I went looking for family and found friends.
Chapter One
A gun had changed her life forever. How could a phone call have as much power today?
Calista Hartman stared at the phone. She didn’t know how he had her number. They hadn’t spoken in years. Her mouth opened to respond, but she slammed it shut, wavering between wanting to say she missed him and wanting to tell him to go to hell. She couldn’t talk to him. He must know that.
“Calista, are you there?” The timbre in Gage Ryker’s voice rumbled over the line and sent her stomach into a tailspin.
She would have recognized the cadence of his voice anywhere. It had certainly haunted her dreams enough. “I’m sorry. I’m here. What did you say?” What had he said? She couldn’t remember. Something about her father.
He let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry to bother you. I arrested your father for public drunkenness.”
No “How are you?” Or “It’s been so long.” No easy segue. Right down to business. Well, that was better. It wasn’t as if they were friends. He made sure that could never happen. Or maybe it was her.
She hung her head. Her father was drinking again. She really didn’t have time for this because she was due at the yoga studio to teach a class in thirty minutes. She grabbed her mat and her vegan leather tote and headed for the front door of her apartment. “Is he okay? Did he hurt anyone?”
“He’s fine now, and no one was hurt. He was singing outside Kennedy’s Pub at one in the morning. Someone called me to complain. He paid his bail, slept it off, and went home. But this wasn’t the first time he’s been that drunk. I thought maybe if he got arrested, he’d get some help. I don’t think he has. You might want to come home.”
“I don’t know if I can get there. I have a lot going on.” She had nothing that couldn’t be rearranged. No one would miss her if she left Billings. That was how she wanted it. Don’t get attached. Safer that way.
Her father wouldn’t want her underfoot, and he wouldn’t want any advice on staying sober. They’d been around that block a number of times over the years, and it always ended badly.
“You should also know the B and B isn’t booking guests.” Gage’s voice dragged her back to the present moment.
“How can that be?” The B and B was always booked. The Fourth of July was coming. They sold out every year. “You must be wrong.”
“My mother told me. I wouldn’t have called if he didn’t need you. I…well, never mind that. I wanted you to hear about his arrest from me.”
She fought the urge to ask him what he was going to say. She wanted to hear it, and she didn’t. Time did not heal all wounds. Whoever came up with that saying was an idiot. She wasn’t over what happened between them—or him, for that matter.
She pushed out into the hallway and closed the door to her apartment. Habit had her locking it. The hallway with its peeling paint and worn-out floor smel
led like sweat and fried food. She stared at her neighbor’s door. If she strained to hear, someone cried on the other side. Berta. The breath caught in her throat when she thought about her brokenhearted neighbor.
She couldn’t live in this apartment building any longer. She would always see Berta’s grandson covered in blood. She couldn’t live in this city another minute either, with all its crime and hate. She needed to start over, or was it run away? She had fled Backwater all those years ago to keep her sanity. She wasn’t sure it had helped.
“Calista, will you come home?”
Home. Where was that? It wasn’t Backwater where Gage kept order, and it wasn’t here in Billings in a bad neighborhood where young men died for no good reason. The way her sister had.
“I have a funeral to attend at the end of the week. I’ll come after that. Don’t tell my father you called me.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
She hesitated, questions burning her lips.
“Take care,” he said.
She opened her mouth to say “thank you” or “how are you” or “I think I still love you,” but he ended the call before the words had a chance to slip free.
****
The Montana sun turned the inside of her 2003 Honda Pilot into an oven. Calista prayed her old vehicle would make the two-hour ride to Backwater because if it didn’t, she’d be hitching the rest of the way. The air conditioner worked overtime, and still the sweat pooled between her breasts.
As every mile brought her closer to her hometown, the knots in her stomach grew until they sat low in her throat. Backwater represented all the bad things in her past.
She heaved a sigh and signaled her departure, finally, from the highway. Too late to turn around now. The Pilot would never make it back, and she didn’t have a whole lot to return to anyway.
Main Street hadn’t changed in the three years she stayed away. The fronts of the buildings appeared as if children had dressed them for a mismatched day. Some were brownstone, while others were stucco. A couple of the buildings resembled old houses. Their heights varied, but most buildings had sun-faded awnings in different colors. Baskets of bright flowers hung from the hardware store and tea shop. People meandered along the sidewalk, peeking in the windows of the flower shop, bookstore, and boutique.
Backwater’s summer season was in full swing. Tourists came to get away from their hectic lives and reconnect with nature. They could hike, fly-fish, horseback ride, or simply sit by the lake and enjoy the view. The big Fourth of July celebration was only a month away and so was the anniversary of her sister’s murder. Tourists today didn’t know that story.
Calista turned right at the end of Main Street where the evergreens reached the big sky, and a cold chill ran over her heated skin. The sheriff’s department squatted on the corner with its red-brick façade and small parking lot. She wanted to avoid the sheriff this trip, but her father’s behavior made that nearly impossible. Gage was part of the reason she hadn’t been home, even for the holidays, in three years and a big part of why she moved two hours away years ago. The only way she could take a cleansing breath was to stay away from Gage Ryker. Except she had allowed his phone call to bring her home.
She turned onto the long drive for the B and B and wound her way along the two-acre front yard dotted with Douglas firs and pines. She lowered the window and allowed the fresh air to swirl in and dry the sweat on her skin. But it did nothing to relax her shoulders. She would have to summon some real discipline to find peace here.
The Hartman B and B sprawled out in front of her with barn-red clapboards faded and chipped from too many months fighting harsh weather. The sides of the building stretched right and left, as if the old girl wanted to give someone a giant hug. The poor thing needed one. The screen door rocked open and closed on its hinges. The chairs that usually invited guests to sit and read a book no longer appeared on the porch. The split-rail fence missed a few logs, as if they were lost teeth. Leaning on that thing could be dangerous.
The grass was patchy in places. Even the American flag hanging by the garage doors limped on the pole. What had happened? She suspected she knew, but that was no excuse. Heat burned her veins, and it had nothing to do with the hot sun.
She parked by the garage and shoved her way out of the car. Her father better explain what he’d been doing to their beloved home.
“Dad?” She held open the front door and waited for a response. “Dad, are you home?” She should have looked inside the garage to see if his car had been there.
Her father was absent from the front room with its paneled walls and fireplace. The leather recliners covered in layers of dust waited for someone to wipe them clean. The dining room and open kitchen were also void of human interaction.
If she looked close enough, the signs of old age cracked and peeled inside the house too. The whole place could use a facelift. The kitchen faucet dripped to its own melody. She tried to tighten the handle, but the water continued its ugly, out-of-tune song. Some of the kitchen cabinet doors hung slanted. The wood floors were worn in places from years of footsteps ambling across them.
She forced open the slider stuck in its track and stepped onto the deck. The Glacier Mountains gave a million-dollar view from the second-story landing. This was her favorite place in the house and one she came to often when she was younger and they weren’t booked with guests.
She had loved living in a bed-and-breakfast growing up. When her sister died and her family fell apart, what was once beautiful and rich with color had shriveled up and turned brown. She couldn’t stay in the absence of that vibrancy. Her father had barely noticed she’d left.
She shielded her eyes from the dipping sun’s brilliant rays against the lake. And there was Dad.
He sat on the bench down on the dock. His feet were planted on the ground, and what appeared to be his hands clasped in his lap. His thinking pose. She headed down to him.
She should have changed her clothes before getting to town. The pencil skirt and matching black jacket made it hard to breathe. Out on the lake, shorts and T-shirts were all she needed, but she had wanted to leave right after the funeral. If she had stopped for more comfortable clothes, she was afraid she would not have made the ride back home. Her high-heeled sandals clicked against the wooden steps and along the long dock.
“Hey, Dad.” She waited.
His clouded gaze behind wireless glasses met hers. He stared for several breaths before the light replaced the dimness in his brown eyes. His face burst into a smile that won everyone over. A smile that used to come much easier. Men far younger than Dad would be jealous of his full head of white hair. He usually kept it swept back, but today a few wisps fell against his forehead. He wore his classically handsome look well.
“Lissa, what are you doing here?”
She flinched at the use of the nickname only Ava had used, but she righted herself and went into her father’s outstretched arms. His familiar earthy scent filled her up. His giant hug warmed her, and for a second it was like old times. But that feeling never lasted long.
“I thought I would come and spend some time on the lake. I needed a vacation.”
“This is a surprise. You haven’t been home in, what? Five years?”
“Three.”
He waved a hand in the air. “Doesn’t matter. I’m glad to see you. I’ve missed you.” He hugged her again.
She eased out of his hold. “Yeah, me too.” Her voice lacked conviction, but she doubted her father would notice.
“How’s work?”
“It’s fine.” No point in discussing Gage’s call yet. They’d get to it soon enough.
He plopped down on the bench. “What’s with the clothes? Did you finally have a job interview for decent employment?”
“I like what I do. Stop asking me about job interviews. I was at a funeral.” She would wait to tell him she quit the bar. He might see it as a sign she would stay here permanently, and that would never happen.
“I’m sorry.” The distant look returned to his eyes.
The subject of death was off limits. She took a long breath and fingered the mala beads around her wrist.
“My friend Fox died, Dad. He was young.” She waited for his eyes to clear and for him to tell her everything would be all right the way a father was supposed to.
He kept his gaze on the water. She bit back the disappointment and took the spot next to him on the bench.
“Fox was seventeen. He was shot. Like Ava.”
“I can’t have the Ava conversation right now, okay?”
He never wanted to talk about Ava. The timing was always wrong when she brought it up. She wanted to tell him Fox’s death was like losing Ava all over again, but she remained silent to keep the peace. Since Ava was gunned down, Calista had become the only one who could juggle the tough emotions. Her mother had even packed her bags and left the two of them behind.
“How long are you here for?”
She kicked off the strappy sandals cutting into her ankles. “Through the Fourth.” Hopefully, that was enough time to get him on the straight and narrow and maybe fix this place up some. She never liked being home around the Fourth anyway.
She hadn’t expected the B and B to be in such disarray, but she did need some time away from the city. She was tired of the grit and dirt. Tired of the gunshots outside her apartment building. Tired of watching over her shoulder when she went to her car at night. And tired of young people dying senselessly.
“It will be nice to have you around. This place isn’t the same without you, but you don’t have to stay that long. My registration is a little light right now. You could come back for Labor Day weekend. I have plenty of reservations then. I could use the help.”
“Gage called me.” Saying his name cut lines on her tongue. “What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Of course, he didn’t. “Are you going back to meetings?”
He turned to face her. “What really brought you home? Are you and Gage getting back together? Please don’t tell me it’s that.”
“No, Dad. Gage and I will never get back together. I came home because you got arrested, and now that I’m here, I see the B and B looks terrible. What is going on? Have you been in touch with your sponsor?”