Forgiveness Creek: The Creek Series

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Authors: Abbie St. Claire

Tags: #romantic suspense

BOOK: Forgiveness Creek: The Creek Series
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Table of Contents

Title Page

Forgiveness Creek

Copyright

Dedication

Acknowledgments

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

Prelude to Redemption Creek

More From Abbie

About The Author

Forgiveness Creek

The
Creek
Series

Forgiveness Creek

Abbie St. Claire

Forgiveness Creek

Copyright © 2014 Abbie St. Claire

Editor: Andrea Grimm Dickinson

Cover Artist: DeLaine Roberts, www.drgraphicexpressions.com

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a produce of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

ISBN:

ISBN-13:

:

DEDICATION

 

This story is dedicated to my husband.

His strength amazes me and without his support,

I would not be able to tell this story.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

 

A story never comes to life by itself.

I want to thank Kimmie, Vatonia, and Geri for listening to the synopsis while spending a creepy night with me at Plum Lake.

A weekend I shall never forget. Good times!

To Kelly, you are a rock of support for me and I adore you. I’m grateful for our friendship and I appreciate all the extra tips

and treasures!

To my editor, Andrea, you are a gem and I will never leave home without you. You take my stories to the next level and

are simply not replaceable.

To my family, thank you for eating take-out so many times without complaints. I’m not sure if that means I’ve lost my touch in the kitchen and you’ve found new loves in delivery and frozen foods or if your undying support has a willingness to sacrifice, but whatever, I love each of you to pieces.

To the Tramps of St. Claire Street Team, you gals rock it. Every day you are posting and pimping and I want to say a special thank you to: Nicole, Debbie, Adalinda, Ebony, Monica, Mariela, Angela, Becca, Samaris, Elizabeth, Betty and Susan.

To you, the one reading this story, I say thank you and bless you for reading and supporting my work. I hope you enjoy this story, but even if you don’t, I love to hear from readers and

welcome you reaching out to me.

Big hugs,

Abbie

Justin moved in as scheduled, and within a couple of days, the place didn’t look the same with the cattle and horses, feed and tack. I helped him remove the aged debris from the cattle corral and felt like a cowgirl again, with blisters on my hands to prove it.

But, it had been years since I’d entered that end of the barn. The doors had been locked to hold the sins in and the memories at bay. It would’ve been nice if it had worked. Mom had a saying, “Sins have a way of finding themselves out,” and there was pure truth in that.

The large hook still hung from the rafters. Its intended use was for hanging a saddle, not for hanging a young girl in love.

I spent my days clearing out the stalls, the attic, and doing some painting and caulking outside as weather permitted. I spent my nights wrapped up in Stephan’s arms.

Mom was happier than I’d seen her in years. Every night, I cooked dinner for the four of us, then I would go home with Stephan. Splitting time was hard, but she understood what it meant to be in love.

I finally admitted to myself I was falling in love with Stephan all over again. Maybe I never fell out of love for him, just protected myself from the pain of us. We were trying hard not to rekindle what we had, but rather build a new relationship. One that was going to be hard as hell long distance.

The last couple of days, Stephan took off work and spent every minute with me.

We were lounging in his recliner, listening to music. “Tomorrow’s our last full day. What do you want to do?”

“Beat your ass fishin’ for small mouth.” My cocky jibe was going to get me in to trouble. I was sure of it.

“You can’t beat me.”

“What’s the bet, big boy? Cause I can take you down.”

“You know what I like out in the boat.” He wiggled his brows.

“Really, you want me to go down on you in the middle of the lake?”

His grin said everything.

“Okay, fine, and if I win, I get to drive the boat.”

“Ugh, that’s my baby. I…I don’t know…”

“If you think you can win, then what do you have to lose?” The man never missed taking a challenge.

“Deal.” He started tickling me, and one thing led to another. We ended up on the rug in front of the fire, soft music playing in the background. He broke our connection long enough to slowly peel my camisole and matching lace boy shorts off, while I gripped the thickness of his freed erection. The touch of his skin on mine left me heated and wanting. He was always a romantic and patient lover, making certain I was pleased before he got his. When he entered me, it was as if two halves became whole.

“I’m so grateful you asked for help weeks ago. If you hadn’t been so desperate, we might not be where we are now.”

“My grandmother always thought things worked out the way they were supposed to. You needed closure to the factors causing pain in your life, and I needed to find the courage to start mine.”

“Where do we go from here?” His question was one I’d been pondering an answer to as well.

“One moment at a time.”

Fishing in Lake Catherine, or any lake for that matter, in windy weather was difficult, and even though it was a sunny January afternoon, the only good spots with any action wound up being in the small coves, but we were never alone, with other boats congregating as well.

Stephan was ahead of me, six fish to my five, but I was determined to beat him. We were out on the chilly open water, and I asked about a cove off to my right.

He shook his head. There were two other boats in the cove, but he kept going. We circled a bend and found a cove that wasn’t occupied by anyone else.

“This looks like a great spot. Let’s start at the crest of the cove and work our way out.”

He maneuvered the boat to the edge of the tree line and shut off the main engine. Then it hit me. Loverboy thought the time for the bet had come. He had another thing coming. I loved his Bassmaster boat with all the room. It didn’t feel like we were going to topple over if I walked around.

I stood from my seat behind him and walked to the front.

“Hey, that’s my spot up there, so I can run the trolling motor.”

“Easy, cowboy. I’m simply changing out my lure.”

“Oh yeah, what bait you going out with?” His cocky laugh gave his opinion away. I thought I’d show him what I remembered about his baits. Whenever he was talking about them or his guide trips for the day, I don’t think he realized I was definitely paying attention.

“I’m putting on a little Spook.”

He snickered.

“Hand me a white Willow Spinnerbait.” I winked at him with the bait in my hand, but his big grin solidified the challenge. It was game on.

First cast yielded nothing but some floating debris. Second cast and my baby was hooked. I just needed to bring him in, and with a bit of a fight, I got him to the side of the boat before he got off.

“Damn.” My need to win was getting the best of me, but I wasn’t ready to give up.

Stephan was steadily casting his lure with no response. Seemed his team wasn’t hungry for his offering. My next cast landed a nice little fight, and I got my prize in the live well. That made us six to six.

“Well, a tie. I guess we both win.”

“Not so easy, big guy. Who said anything about being done? As far as I see it, this boat is not on the trailer yet, so I can still pull this off,” and with my snarky attitude, I threw out my lure again and pulled in the winning catch.

My happy dance with shaking my money maker in Stephan’s face got me tossed on the boat’s floor with him on top of me. Every few minutes, he peeked his head up to see if we were still alone.

Who says sex out on the water in a fishing boat can’t be accomplished? After that, I got to drive his boat back to the marina. Of course, he was sitting beside me and coaching me the whole way, but I didn’t care because there was conceit in victory—I won in more ways than one.

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