Diamond Mine
By Felicia Rogers
Published by Astraea Press
www.astraeapress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
DIAMOND MINE
Copyright © 2013 FELICIA ROGERS
ISBN 978-1-62135-240-2
Cover Art Designed by AM DESIGN STUDIOS
To my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ
And to all the men and women who have given their lives in service.
Prologue
Eight years ago…
The sun beat hot upon her head as she jogged the lonely stretch. Hannah Alicia Baker, seventeen, approaching her senior year of high school, was all alone.
Everyone she knew had either left on vacation or taken a summer job. This left her at home, struggling to find activities to fill her time. In other words, she was bored.
The afternoon run accentuated her loneliness. The neighborhood mimicked a black and white horror movie. Middle-aged people washed their cars and watered their lawns. The lack of children caused an eerie silence.
She climbed on the porch, grabbed a bottle of water, and guzzled it down.
The door opened and her mother peeked out. “Done already?”
“Yeah.”
“Want to come inside and see what I bought at the store?”
Hannah shrugged. A frown twitched at her mother’s lips.
“Look Hannah I know you’re not happy with your father’s decision—”
“The man controlling my life is not my father. My father is dead.”
Tears welled in her mother’s eyes and Hannah turned away. Guilt gnawed at her gut but she forced it back.
“I think I missed a street,” she said, moving off the porch.
She ran until her lungs burned and her muscles threatened to collapse. She stopped and bent over to catch her breath. A moving van hummed. She looked up, and that was when she saw him.
Her breath caught. The boy was easily over six feet tall. His shoulder muscles bulged as he carried boxes inside. A breeze lifted jet black hair off his neck. When he turned, his dark blue eyes caught the sunlight and they twinkled.
Hannah moved slowly behind a tree. Placing her back against the rough bark, she clutched her chest and raised her opposite hand in a fist pump. Man, he’s hot!
She peered around the tree. He sat on the porch and sipped a glass of iced tea. So he wasn’t an employee of the moving company. He was here to stay. With any luck, all the summer jobs were taken, and he would be forced to stay within the community walls and socialize with her.
Scenarios where they went to the movies and she snuggled close to his side flitted across her mind. Or perhaps they took a walk in the park and held hands after a long picnic. Leaning her head back against the tree, she sighed. She needed a plan.
First rule of getting a man — approach his stomach.
Leaving her hiding place, she raced home.
“Whoa! Where’s the fire?” asked her mother as Hannah flung the screen door open and sent it crashing against the facing.
“No fire. I need a pie recipe, stat.”
“Okay.”
They worked on the pie all day. At supper, Hannah proudly carried it to the neighbor’s house. Her heart raced and her palms sweated as she waited for the door to open.
“Hello,” said a woman about the same age as her own mother.
Hannah’s face fell. “Umm, I brought a pie.”
“Ah, thank you.”
Hannah didn’t move or speak. This was all wrong. Where was the boy?
“Was this to welcome me to the neighborhood?” she asked.
“Uh, yes.”
“Thank you.”
The woman grabbed the pie and closed the door in Hannah’s face.
****
The food delivery was an epic failure. No matter how hard she tried over the next couple of weeks she couldn’t get the boy’s attention. So, she did what she did best, she gave up.
Running brought solace to her mind. Music poured over the speakers in her ears and Hannah worked to relax. Following the normal path through the neighborhood, she prepared to pass his house. She hadn’t seen him since moving day, other than in her dreams, and she had started to believe perhaps he wasn’t real.
As Hannah rounded the corner, she narrowed her gaze. There he was! She could see the top of his head. The sun glinted off his black hair. But he seemed kind of short.
Turning her head to investigate, she slowed. Her leg collapsed.
“Ow!” she exclaimed. “What in the world! Why is there a hole here?”
A shadow towered over her and a hand extended downward. She grasped it without question, allowing herself to be pulled free. She stood in front of him with his bare chest almost touching her nose. She couldn’t breathe. She was going to pass out. This was the end.
Taking a step back, he said, “Hullo. I’m Rory Chance.”
Okay, this really is the end. Drop dead gorgeous and an accent to boot! Get a hold of yourself, girl. He’s staring at you.
Hannah reached forward and placed her weight on both feet. Pain radiated up her leg, and she collapsed against his chest. The feel of his sweaty skin beneath her palm caused her heart to skip a beat. All rational thought left her.
Before she could move, Rory swept her into his arms and carried her to the porch and settled her on a chaise. “Don’t move,” he commanded.
She nodded. Wild horses wouldn’t drag her away. If aliens descended and tried to kidnap her, she would strangle them with her bare hands. She wasn’t going anywhere.
She closed her eyes. When she opened them, he stared at her. She grinned and said, “I didn’t move.”
A flush covered his cheeks. Butterflies danced in her stomach.
“Indeed you didn’t.”
He stood there holding an ice pack. She stretched her hand forward and said, “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Hannah Baker.” The twist caused pain to race along her leg, and she scrunched her face.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Hannah. Now, if you please, stretch out your leg and let’s have a look at your ankle.”
Tenderly he removed her shoe and sock and murmured under his breath.
“Well, Dr. Chance, is it broken?”
He raised his gaze and stared at her. “I don’t believe so. But I think you should stay off of it for awhile and wear this ice pack. Make sure to rotate it off and on at fifteen minute intervals.”
“Okay. But I might need to borrow your phone.”
“Of course.” He left and hurried inside
She took the phone and dialed. “Mom?” she said.
“Your mother isn’t here right now.”
Hannah fought to be respectful to her stepfather because Rory listened. “Okay. Just tell her I went for my jog and I’m taking my time.”
“You need to come home. Your mother is worried about you. It is not right—”
He continued to talk, but she ignored him. When he finished, she said, “Thanks.”
She hit End and laid the phone on a table. Rory didn’t move and she said, “You’re new here, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Are you from England? Because I’m detecting a distinct British accent.”
“I am.”
“Okay. Now I have another ques
tion.”
“Of course.”
Hannah drew her brows together. She had an open opportunity to ask him anything. What should she say?
“Why in the world are you digging gigantic holes in your yard? I could have broken my leg! Okay, admittedly I should have been paying more attention to where I was going. I’m bad for daydreaming and making up stories in my head, but this time wasn’t my fault. Although my mom will never believe me. Oh man! I hope my ankle looks better before I get home. She’ll have me at the emergency room. She’ll make them give me a cast just to make sure I don’t move and hurt myself worse. And…”
His eyes widened and heat rushed to her cheeks. “Sorry, forgive me. I don’t normally go all ballistic like that. Especially with people I don’t know. It’s just, well, you’re making me feel a little, hmm, awkward.”
Rory’s t-shirt lay across his shoulders. Sweat covered his chest, and it shone like that of a bodybuilder. He lifted his finger for her to wait and he walked inside. When he returned, he wore a fresh shirt and held out a glass of tea.
He pulled up a chair and sat next to her. “Better?”
“Yeah,” she took a sip. “Why are there huge holes in your yard?”
“My mum is planting roses.”
“Oh.” She squirmed.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s just…” Pausing, she sighed. “I feel bad for you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Rory, those holes are too close to the sidewalk.”
“What? I don’t understand. Just because you fell—”
“No, I’m not saying it because of that. That was my own fault. You see, this is a gated community and it has certain rules. One of said rules is no bushes or flowers can be planted within two feet of the sidewalk.”
“Oh,” he said with a frown.
The boy had wasted the entire day. She placed her hand on his arm. “Rory, don’t worry. I’ll help you. We just need to fill in these holes and dig new ones.”
“Why would you do that?”
She shrugged her shoulders and grinned. “I like your accent.”
He helped her home that day, which wasn’t hard since she only lived a few houses away. As promised, she returned to help with the roses. The next month was sheer bliss.
Rory Chance was everything she’d ever dreamed. She laid back on her bed and studied her ceiling, fantasizing about Rory riding up on a white horse and whisking her—
“Hannah! Can you come down here?”
Hannah scooted off the bed and bounded downstairs. “Here I am.”
“Good. Get your purse,” said her mother, a secret grin lighting her face.
“Why?”
“We’re going shopping.”
Hannah blinked rapidly. “B-but I can’t.”
“Why not?” asked her mother, her hands planted on her hips.
“Well, because, because I have plans with Rory.”
“Seriously, Hannah. You’ve seen that boy every day for the last month. Can’t you spare one afternoon for your mother?”
Hannah gnawed at her lip.
“Just call him. I’m sure he’ll wait one day for you.”
Hannah relented.
“Rory?” she said as he picked up on the other side.
“Hullo, love. I’m glad you called.”
“Yeah, well, I’m calling to say I can’t meet today.”
“Oh, you can’t?”
“My mom wants to have a mother-daughter day. Do you mind?”
“Of course not. Go, have a good time. We can see each other tomorrow.”
“Are you sure? You’re not going to leave, are you? Maybe run away to Mexico? Or find a hot babe to hang out with?”
He laughed. “You and your imagination. I have no plans to run away to Mexico or anywhere else, and since I already have a hot babe, there is little reason to seek another.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “Oh, so I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”
They talked a few more minutes before she hung up the phone. Shopping with her mother was nice, but Hannah couldn’t wait to get home. As soon as she walked through the door she looked at the clock, but it was too late to call Rory.
First thing the next morning, she picked up the phone.
“What a face. Did someone steal your waffle?” said her mother as she walked through the kitchen door.
“No. Rory’s not answering.”
Her mother waved her concerns away. “Maybe he is sleeping late. Just call back later. I’m sure he’ll answer.”
Hannah couldn’t stop the fear gnawing in her gut. At lunch she called back, this time receiving a fast busy signal. Over and over she repeated the action with the same result.
Grabbing her shoes, she raced out the door.
“Where are you going?” asked her mother.
“To see Rory.”
She slowed as she approached his house. Her heart raced and her palms sweated. Something was wrong. Things didn’t look right. No curtains hung in the windows. No car sat in the driveway. No lights blared.
She knocked on the front door and waited. No one came. She walked around and stared inside the windows but saw no one.
Sitting on the top porch step, she allowed sorrow to envelope her. Tears pooled in her eyes and drifted down her cheeks.
Rory was gone.
Chapter One
Eight years later…
Sultry sounds of an unknown musician filtered over the air waves, mingling with the clacking of keyboard keys. In her sixteen-by-ten foot space, her sanctuary, Hannah typed. Ensconced behind these walls, she had created some of her best work.
A mug decorated with cover art from a previous novel graced the oak desk. The aroma of hot chocolate and melting whipped cream permeated the air.
Glossy black-and-white photos goaded her on. In this moment, he was hers. Socialite dolls, step aside.
As her muse kicked in, the story unfolded.
Kahlea obeyed her father’s wishes. The marriage ceremony to the dark knight lasted only a few minutes. When it was over, she was thrust upon a horse and forced to ride.
As evening waned, she rode with nary a word of complaint. Her new husband looked over his shoulder and his lips drew into a frown.
“We stop here,” said Rory.
The men grumbled as they set up camp. Kahlea dismounted, placed a hand to her aching back, and walked toward the growing fire.
Logs evenly spaced provided a place to sit. Before her was a hole filled with rich dark earth. Sifting through it, something sparkled. She looked closer.
“What have you found?” asked Rory as he appeared behind her. His hot breath struck her neck.
“A diamond,” she answered, breathlessly.
Hours later Hannah sat back and reviewed what she’d written.
The rework of the manuscript was shaping up nicely. The hot chocolate stung her tongue and she fanned her face. A sigh parted her lips as she studied the screen. The cursor flashed. Her fingers posed over the keys. She stalled.
She closed her eyes and waited. Where were the words she looked for? Outside a storm raged. Lightning struck the ground, thunder rumbled across the sky, and sheets of rain struck the house. Hail pummeled the porch, causing an eerie sound.
Light came through the window and reflected off one of the photos above her. The faded photo was several years old.
Rory Chance. Her old flame, her muse, the driving force behind everything she wrote, smiled back at her. The socialite, his fiancée Monica, clung to him like a leather jumpsuit. She had read all about Rory and Monica. Pictures of her hanging all over him graced the English society pages. The smile that once graced his lips appeared more like a sneer with each new hopeful glance.
Hannah convinced herself the photo was a fake. Rory didn’t really want to be on the arm of a beautiful woman who leered at him like a hungry animal. He didn’t really want to be in the forefront of the Br
itish media. Fame and fortune accidentally fell upon him at his grandfather’s demise. As his heir, Rory, a young British soldier, inherited a company, several houses, and unmentionable wealth.
Even with all the advantages awarded him, he’d refused to give up his post in the military. For months, foreign newspapers bombarded the people with stories about Rory and his soon-to-be marriage to the young woman. On and on they droned of how right the couple was together, how perfect a fit they appeared to be.
As the wedding plans progressed, Hannah’s mood changed and her writing became affected.
Staring at the photo once again, Hannah drew in a deep sigh. After this article, she’d canceled her subscription to the foreign papers. She’d stopped searching for news. Better to just live in the past with the Rory she remembered.
Memories of Rory Chance came to mind and she laughed. The sound reverberated off the paneled walls, coming back to her empty heart. Silent tears slipped from her eyes and she grabbed a tissue.
She knocked the glass case and quickly reached out and grabbed it. She picked it up and turned it over and over, allowing it to catch the light.
Her mother had laughed at her for keeping it, but she didn’t care. The rock held special meaning to her.
She and Rory had been digging for the last rosebush when…
“Hey, what is this?” he asked as the shovel made a pinging sound.
“Let me see.” She jumped in the hole with him. Inches separated them and she blushed.
He moved a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I think you tricked me so I’d get in here with you.”
“Hmm, a good idea, but no, I really found something.”
She climbed from the hole and he handed it to her. It was a white rock. The sunlight caused it to sparkle like a thousand diamonds.
“Look, Rory! You’ve given me my first diamond!”
They’d laughed about their discovery for days. It had even led to him calling her Sparkles. Her mother declared it was quartz and therefore worthless. But to Hannah, it was a reminder of their time together.
Trill sounds of a warning bell blared. In a few hours her agent would call for a progress report. Enough daydreaming and fantasizing. It was time to get back to work.
Diamond Mine Page 1
