Tomorrow's Promise (The Hawks Mountain Series)

Other Books by Elizabeth Sinclair from Bell Bridge Books

Writing as Liz Sinclair

The Last Move

Writing as Elizabeth Sinclair

Winter Magic
(Hawks Mountain: Book Four)

Forever Fall
(Hawks Mountain: Book Three)

Summer Rose
(Hawks Mountain: Book Two)

Hawks Mountain
(Hawks Mountain: Book One)

Tomorrow’s Promise

Hawks Mountain: Book 5

by

Elizabeth Sinclair

Bell Bridge Books

Copyright

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events or locations is entirely coincidental.

Bell Bridge Books
PO BOX 300921
Memphis, TN 38130
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-61194-527-0
Print ISBN: 978-1-61194-545-4

Bell Bridge Books is an Imprint of BelleBooks, Inc.

Copyright © 2014 by Marguerite Smith writing as Elizabeth Sinclair

Printed and bound in the United States of America.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

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Cover design: Debra Dixon
Interior design: Hank Smith
Photo/Art credits:
Girl (manipulated) © Stephanie Frey |
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Wolf (manipulated) © Lynn Bystrom |
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Background (manipulated) © Branislav Ostojic |
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:Mptf:01:

Dedication

To all the single moms struggling to take care of their children. Don’t forget that there is always tomorrow.

And as always to my husband, the man who protects and loves me 24/7, 365.

Granny Jo’s Journal

Welcome!

WELL, IT’S SPRING on my mountain. The flowers are pushing through the earth, the trees are budding, and the animals and birds are giving birth to the next generation. I must admit that this is my favorite time of year. The air is still fresh and a bit crisp with the remnants of winter, but the sun warms my body and soul enough that I don’t need a coat.

I just took a stroll around my yard and was pleased as punch to see green sprouts in my garden and flower beds, a sure sign that the earth is coming back to life after its winter snooze. I’ll soon have to start thinking about getting my vegetable garden ready for planting. Oh, and the peace rose on my Earl’s grave is starting to bud. That always makes my heart smile.

The only other thing that’s new with me is that my granddaughter Becky talked me into buying one of those cell phone thingamajigs. I’m not totally sure how all the fancy stuff on it works, but I have managed to learn how to make a call and say “hello” when it rings. I guess that’s good. At my age, you never know when the old body is gonna give out, and you need to cry for help. On the other hand, I’m still not sure I like the idea of people being able to bother me no matter where I am.

Well, enough about me.

I hear tell Davy Collins’s wolf, Sadie, just had another litter of puppies. Lydia suspects Sadie made “friends” with the big, male German Shepherd next door. But the animals and birds aren’t the only ones expecting additions to their families. My granddaughter Becky is gonna give me another great-grandchild. They tell me this one will be a little girl they plan on naming Josephine. Just thinking about that brings a knot to my throat and a tear to my eye.

I still get such a kick out of doctors being able to tell a mother what her baby is gonna be before it leaves the womb. In my day, you decorated the nursery in yellow or mint green. That way it didn’t matter which sex the baby was, and you wouldn’t be bedding down a baby boy in a frilly, pink room.

Jonathan and Andi Prince have settled into the big mansion, and I’m still giving Jonathan’s Aunt Sarah quilting lessons. Although, she’s doing so well, I don’t see why she keeps paying me to come there once a week to teach her. I think she just likes the company and someone to gossip with, not that I carry tales, at least not like Laureene Talbot.

Ben Ainsley has retired from the sheriff’s office and his son Cole is taking his place until election time rolls around. Cole was a member of the Richmond police force until he came back to Carson a few months ago. So far, from all I’ve seen (and heard on the grapevine), he’s doing a bang-up job, and, if he decides to run in the upcoming election, he’ll be a shoo-in for the job on a permanent basis.

Speaking of gossip, Laureene tells me that Faith Chambers, Horace and Celia Chambers’ girl, has come home to Carson with her sweet little daughter, Lizzie. Like my Becky, Faith left Carson in search of greener, more exciting pastures. I don’t know what exactly brought her back here, but I’m betting that it wasn’t anything good. In my experience, young people don’t come back here because the opportunities are so great. They’re usually hiding from some hurt, and what better place to heal than home? A few months on the mountain should help fix that. There doesn’t seem to be any way anyone can live here and not take in the God-given peace of the green hills. It’s like an invisible medicine that creeps into your soul and heals its wounds.

As for me, I’ve got a batch of chocolate chip cookies in the oven right now. Tomorrow, I’ll take them over to Faith and Lizzie and see if there’s anything I can do for them. Being a single mom nowadays is not an easy row to hoe.

In the meantime, I have a feeling in my bones that things around here are gonna get interesting. Why? Because it’s been quiet for too long and, knowing Carson as I do, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. If I was you, I’d stick around . . . just in case my feeling is right.

Love,

—Granny Jo

Chapter 1

NOT UNTIL FAITH Chambers stepped off the bus and stood on the main street of Carson, West Virginia, did she fully realize just how dismal her life had become. Three years ago, she’d run from her domineering mother, left her hometown with a head full of dreams and plans, and moved to Atlanta. Once there, she’d taken up with city boy Sloan Philips and settled in, determined never to step foot in this sleepy little town again, and looking forward to a bright tomorrow. Today, alone, nearly penniless, with nothing but gloom on the horizon and two-year- old Lizzie to care for, Faith had returned to her hometown with her tail between her legs, prepared to beg for a job to support them.

“Faith Chambers, is that you?”

Faith turned toward the strident female voice and looked into the judgmental face of her mother’s next door neighbor and the town gossip, Laureene Talbot. Lord, of all the people Faith had to run into, why did it have to be her? She’d hoped to slip into town unnoticed. Now, not only was she found out, but this woman would make certain that Faith’s mother knew her daughter was back.

“Yes, ma’am, it’s me.” Faith hugged her two-year-old daughter closer to her chest and forced a smile.

“Well, bless my soul, I certainly never expected to see you back in Carson. And who’s this sweet little thing?” She took a step closer and pinched Lizzie’s cheek. The child pulled away, hugged her teddy bear closer, and buried her face in Faith’s neck. Fuzzy the teddy bear was unique. He’d been made just for Faith by her beloved gramma, and she’d passed it down to Lizzie, who cherished it even more than Faith had and hid behind it whenever anything disturbed her.

Faith figured she’d have to face this woman sooner or later, but she’d hoped it would be later. If Carson was the same as she remembered it, even though a new century had dawned, its moral standards about certain things remained unforgiving by some—Laureene being one of them.

No sense in trying to hide it. Everyone would know soon enough. Taking a deep breath, Faith raised her chin and looked the woman in the eye. “She’s my daughter.”

Laureene stared at the child for a moment, as if deep in thought. “I don’t recall your momma telling me that you got married or that you gave her a grandbaby. Who’s the lucky daddy?” The woman’s a sweet expression covered the vindictive personality that Faith was well aware lurked just beneath the surface.

Faith wasn’t surprised that her mother hadn’t told anyone about Lizzie or that Faith had been living “in sin” with a city man. Celia Chambers had known about Sloan and Lizzie, but Faith had no doubt that her mother would not have shared that news with anyone in Carson. Small towns could be cruel about things like illegitimate children and unmarried liaisons. Carson’s high moral values made it especially so, even in this century of permissiveness. All that aside, Faith knew her mother would never brag about something she felt was a sin before God and certainly not to Poison Tongue Laureene, as the kids always called her.

Pure and simple, Laureene Talbot was the cruelest kind of small-town gossip. She spread what she knew for sure and made up what she thought was the true story, right or wrong. The results usually ended up being more hurtful than the truth would have been.

When Faith was younger, she would have tried to satisfy Laureene’s nosiness with some half-baked excuse, and hope that the story wasn’t embellished when Laureene passed it along. But right now, exhausted from the long bus ride from Atlanta, and apprehensive about her and Lizzie’s future, Faith didn’t have the emotional strength to contend with Laureene Talbot. But neither would she supply grist for Laureene’s gossip mill.

Faith straightened her shoulders and smiled as sweetly as she could. “Maybe it slipped her mind.”

Laureene’s eyebrows shot up so far they nearly touched the wave of black hair draped neatly over her forehead. “That doesn’t seem likely. Grandmothers don’t forget their grandchildren.”

“No, most don’t.” But her mother was far from being like most grandmothers. Without further explanation, Faith picked up her only suitcase and stepped around Laureene, leaving her, mouth agape, in the middle of the sidewalk.

Once she’d moved out of reach of Laureene’s sharp tongue and condemning eyes, Faith breathed a deep sigh of relief. There had been a time when she would have given Laureene as good as she dealt out, but Faith hadn’t stood up for herself in so long, she wasn’t sure she knew how anymore.

But one thing she did know, she would never again depend on anyone else to take care of her and Lizzie. The day the police knocked on her door and told her Sloan had been killed, probably by one of his drug connections, Faith had realized she was on her own. It was also then that she finally admitted to herself that she and Lizzie had been abandoned emotionally for a long time.

Crossing the street, she hoisted Lizzie higher on her hip and headed for the building with the white sign hanging out front that read Doctor Amos Joseph, MD. Until the new clinic had been built in Hanover a few years back, he’d been the only doctor in the isolated valley, and still, the clinic was over fifty miles away. As a result, Doc Amos had been an indispensable necessity in Carson for many years now. He had delivered Faith and most of the other kids in town, as well as treated most of the town’s population at one time or another.

Faith remembered him as being a kind, friendly man with a cheery smile and a never-ending supply of red lollipops hidden away in his big roll-top desk. He’d dispensed wisdom and kindness as readily as he did his candy, medicines, and rainbow- colored bandages. Everyone in town knew that Doc was just as quick to accept a plump roasting chicken as payment for an office visit from a family that was down on their luck as he was to take hard cash.

When she’d noted his name on the classified ad she’d found in the local paper she’d picked from the trash in the bus terminal, it had made her feel better about applying for the job of housekeeper, the only marketable skill she possessed.

Taking a deep breath, she climbed the stairs and entered his office.

It smelled of antiseptic, the flower-scented room deodorizer protruding from an outlet near the door, and stale pipe tobacco. Faith recognized the woman behind the desk as Harriet, Doc’s wife and receptionist of over forty years, though her hair was whiter and her cherub-like face more wrinkled,.

Setting her suitcase down beside the door and then shifting Lizzie to a more comfortable position on her hip, Faith approached the desk. Lizzie held her tattered old teddy bear Fuzzy against her cheek, surveyed her new surroundings with wide eyes, and held on tight to the collar of Faith’s blouse.

Doc’s wife looked up. “Yes? May I help you?”