About the Book
Harper Ames believes she finally has her life together, leaving childhood tragedy in the past where it rightfully belongs. But with an unforeseen twist of luck, she lands right back in her childhood home where her granddaddy is literally trying to dig up one-hundred-fifty-year-old family secrets in the backyard.
Emmett has been going through the motions of being the good grandson and son his entire life, but nothing has ever felt right for him since he was a child growing up with the two Ames girls next door. After the tragedy spurred on its own fifteen-year civil war between the two families, he has yearned for the happiness that he hasn’t experienced since his time with Harper.
But now that Harper’s back helping her granddaddy search for family heirlooms lost during the Civil War, can Emmett dig up the past and manufacture a truce that will allow him to get back to that place he’s longed for since that terrible day? Can Harper let go of the past as painlessly as the memories that are slipping from her granddaddy’s dementia-riddled mind?
To get to the place they both want, they must uncover the lies, confront the past, and realize what is the real FAMILY TREASURE.
Excerpt from the Book
Harper
Harper Ames veered around a gawking group standing still on the sidewalk, maneuvering her way through the midmorning crowds of Magazine Street. She needed to hurry. Leaving Tara waiting too long in a wedding dress shop would come with consequences. She’d choose the most hideous dress and have it all bagged up just to pay Harper back for the experience. This was not her morning though. And of course to add to the delay, she’d had to park two blocks away.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she put it to her ear as she sidestepped the uneven pavement.
“I’m on my way, Tara,” Harper said, the people’s faces blurring as she hurried past. “I think I left my wallet at the bakery since I can’t find it this morning.”
“Harper, is that you?” Grandmother Patsy asked, an uncertainty catching her voice.
Drats. She hadn’t looked at the screen, only assumed Tara’s impatient rant would await her on the other end. Recently, she’d been avoiding Grams’s calls. More like putting off returning them with one excuse or another. She had been working long hours and then there was the wedding planning that must be done quickly now that Clint wanted to pull it off before they had to move.
Harper stopped to catch her breath a moment, allowing a group of tourists to cross in front of her. Sweat had begun to bead at the nape of her neck from her mad sprint. That would not be pretty trying on white gowns. How did you even get sweat stains out of white satin or silk? Another worry to add to the ever-growing list.
“Grams,” Harper responded. “It’s good to hear from you.”
“I’ve been trying to call you,” Grams said, her tone chastising. “I thought you might have changed phone numbers.”
“Oh, no, Grams,” Harper said, continuing at a walk instead of a sprint. “The bakery’s busy at this time of year, and we’ve taken on more weddings than usual.”
“That’s good, Dear, if you’re happy,” she replied. Harper didn’t know if that lingering question her words seemed to incite was her imagination or intentional on the spry woman’s part. “I wanted to talk to you about your granddaddy.”
“I’ve been meaning to call him.” Harper held her breath like she’d done when she was a young girl telling a lie. She released it when she caught herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to call the man that she’d admired so much growing up, but their conversations were painful. There was a sinking terribleness she recognized as fear in the pit of her stomach. Fear that she would call and he wouldn’t recognize her voice or remember her name. She didn’t know if she could bear it.
“He’s getting worse,” Grams spoke, her voice a soft, pliable sound. “It’s time to come for a visit.”
Harper sighed. “I know.”
“When?”
“I’ll talk to Felipe and see if he can spare me a day or two next week.” Harper cringed thinking of the request already. The man baked beautiful cakes and treats, and his king cake season could support them for half the year, but he suffered from poor people skills and preferred for her to take care of anything to do with the clients. He loved people, but they found him rude and overbearing. Something you didn’t want when you were trying to draw in business. She’d only managed off today because she’d given him free reign to do whatever he wanted for her wedding cake—a concern she figured she’d sort out later.
“Harper,” Grams reproached. “You shouldn’t keep putting it off.”
Reaching the bakery finally, the closed sign greeted her from the sleek thin glass. Glancing down at her watch, the dial showed 9:22. Twenty-two minutes late for wedding dress shopping, and twenty-two minutes late for the shop to open to customers.
“Let me call you back in a few minutes.”
Harper ended the call and dug out the shop keys from inside her purse.
Opening the door, Harper entered the darkened shop. The cakes, cupcakes, and petit fours all welcomed her from the cases, the smell of almond icing bombarding her senses and clenching in her empty stomach.
The metal café tables sat clean and awaiting customers, and the sleek board along the backboard showed the daily offerings and showcased a lemon tart special.
Everything looked as it should, except Felipe should have opened already. Being neglectful at ordering stock was quite different than forgetting to open at all. Maybe he’d decided to protest her not coming in today after all. No, that was terrible. They’d discussed this. They’d even tossed around the idea of her training someone new again. He’d chased the last five employees off with his nasty outbursts and rude insults, but he would need help soon when she and Clint figured out the future. She’d also considered finishing her history dissertation and actually graduating as she’d planned when she was young and idealistic. Of course, Clint didn’t seem thoroughly on board, but that could just be his final medical exams looming and the constant pressure of finding his dream position when he finished his internship in a month. He wanted far away—she wanted nearby. They had some time to figure it out, but Felipe needed every available second to find someone who would remain at the bakery. The job wasn’t awful though. It did pay their rent and the wine. Two things Clint didn’t want to have to worry about as he completed his dream of becoming a doctor, possibly a surgeon, one day.
Harper walked around the counter and immediately spotted her wallet on the floor. It must have fallen out yesterday when she’d tugged her purse from its slot between the folded boxes and ribbon rolls. When she bent to pick it up, she heard a grunt and then a moan of pain from the back kitchen area.
Fear edged in on her already frazzled emotions. Had Felipe injured himself and been unable to open? Had someone retaliated for a recent tongue-lashing he’d built a reputation upon? It was bound to happen at some point. The man was more grizzly than teddy bear.
Harper approached the black curtained walkway to the kitchen cautiously, unsure of what she’d find and not mentally prepared for anything horrible. She’d only guzzled a half a cup of coffee this morning, and she could feel it jittering around her insides.
Covered with a light dusting of fine white powder, the usual pans cluttered the stainless steel counter. A chocolate concoction with chocolate shavings sat in unfinished glory at Felipe’s usual workspace, but no burly salt-and-pepper bearded gentleman stood at any of his usual spots. Just as she turned toward the closet-size office, another groan escaped, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up.
It had come from the office, but this sound had a distinctly more masculine tone to it than Felipe’s nasally baritone.
Should she leave? Had she interrupted a private moment?
Someone could be injured though. Not opening the shop did not fit with his need to further his business. He’d even promised to call his niece to help out if he thought he couldn’t run the front and kitchen.
She should be sure. She’d be upset if something had happened and she’d not checked. Harper edged near the ajar door and peered inside.
A wave of nausea swooshed over her, this morning’s coffee bubbling in her esophagus. She should back away.
She wanted to move, to run out of there, but her body would not listen to the rational thought.
Felipe and Clint were sprawled over the white prefab desk, trousers littering the floor.
Clint’s face was contorted in the moment of ecstasy that she’d come to know so well over the last six years.
No. Actually he’d never looked so happy. He’d told her it was the stress of medical school and then the hours of being a resident. He’d been distant for a few months, buried in his books, and then last month, he’d decided he wanted to get married right after he finished his internship. He wanted to plan their lives together from that moment forward.
It all rushed through her ears like a revving engine.
She’d been going wedding dress shopping today.
She’d worked for Felipe for five years, putting up with the man’s insufferable quirks because he was Clint’s oldest childhood friend. Clint had always smoothed things over between the two of them, defended his friend for having had a difficult childhood growing up gay, and Harper had admired that Clint didn’t allow that to bother him like some men she knew. She’d grown to think of Felipe as family.
The anger began to warm itself in her center, letting itself awaken.
“How could you?” Harper uttered, disturbing the two finally.
And when they both looked back at her, she didn’t know which one she was talking to, the betrayal felt so raw.