A Family for Jason

by Virginia McCullough

  She’s not home for keeps

  Unless he proves first love is forever

  Bluestone River is a minefield of memories for Mike Abbot—all involving Ruby Driscoll. Twenty years after scandal divided them, they’re both back in their hometown. Ruby’s visit is strictly temporary. But as she uses her trauma expertise to help his vulnerable son, Mike faces what his heart has always known. Ruby’s still his one and only. This time, can he convince her to stay?

  “Ruby, please, I haven’t seen you in twenty years.”

  He heard the edge in his voice. Fear? He wasn’t sure what scared him, couldn’t put it into words. Yet at the same time relief traveled through every cell, as if all along he’d been expecting this and the moment had finally come.

  “I’m just glad to see you.” He emptied his lungs and whispered, “To know you’re okay.”

  Ruby’s eyes filled again and she lowered her head.

  “Oh, no, Ruby. I don’t want to upset you. I’m sorry. I just can’t believe you’re here.”

  She held up her hand in a clear signal to stop. “I’m okay, Mike. Really. I don’t want to worry your little boy. I don’t even know what’s brought on these tears.”

  She didn’t? He knew exactly what his jumble of emotions was all about. He’d never loved anyone the way he’d loved her. Now he had to know what had brought her back to Bluestone River.

  Dear Reader,

  Thanks for joining me in Bluestone River, a fictional prairie town in Illinois. Although I grew up in Chicago, a great city built on the Midwestern prairie, my parents took us on memorable road trips to explore small towns in Illinois and Iowa. Some of those places look a lot like Bluestone River, and a few even have cherished covered bridges. The covered bridge spanning the river in A Family for Jason has a special place in the hearts of Ruby Driscoll and Mike Abbot—it’s where they carved their names and sealed their promise to love each other forever.

  At its heart, A Family for Jason, book one of my new Back to Bluestone River series, is a reunion story. But Mike and Ruby can have their second chance only if they’re willing to confront—and heal—the past.

  Thanks for coming along on this trip to Bluestone River. Enjoy getting to know characters trying to breathe new life into their hometown as they struggle with the past and nurture their hopes for the future. Be sure to sign up for my mailing list and visit me on Facebook and Twitter: virginiamccullough.com; Twitter, @VEMcCullough; and Facebook, Facebook.com/virginia.mccullough.7.

  To happy endings,

  Virginia

  A Family for Jason

  Virginia McCullough

  Virginia McCullough grew up in Chicago, but she’s enjoyed living in many places, including the coast of Maine, western North Carolina and now northeastern Wisconsin. She started her career writing magazine articles but soon turned to coauthoring and ghostwriting nonfiction books. When fictional characters started whispering in her ear, she tried her hand at writing their stories. Now, many books later, Back to Bluestone River is her second series for Harlequin Heartwarming readers. When she’s not writing, Virginia eagerly reads other authors’ books, hangs out with family and friends, and plans another road trip.

  Books by Virginia McCullough

  Harlequin Heartwarming

  Girl in the Spotlight

  Something to Treasure

  Love, Unexpected

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  To adults and children who courageously work to recover from life-changing traumatic events and crises, with a nod of gratitude to the professionals and volunteers who step up to help them heal.

  Contents

  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

  EXCERPT FROM TRUSTING HER HEART BY TARA RANDEL

  CHAPTER ONE

  RUBY DRISCOLL BLINKED back tears at the sight of Emma standing on her porch on this golden late September afternoon. Emma had warned her about what to expect, but the sight of her best friend bent over with her hands clutching a walker still put a lump in Ruby’s throat.

  Ruby hurried up the porch stairs and gingerly wrapped her arms around Emma’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry about this.”

  Emma smiled faintly and patted the walker. “No pity party for me. This contraption is only temporary until the op next week, Rubes.”

  Rubes. Only a handful of people had ever been allowed to call her that, and they were all from deep in her past. Her dad. Emma, her first friend, and Mike, her first love.

  Seeing pain pinching Emma’s face, images of a tall, spunky girl raced through Ruby’s mind like movie clips. This was Emma, who once did twenty perfect and unforgettable cartwheels in a row, beating her nearest competitor by eight. Emma, always the first to call out “Hey, Rubes, I dare you to swim all the way to the raft.” Then Emma would take off like a shot, leaving Ruby struggling to keep up.

  Now Ruby couldn’t help but stare at her almost thirty-eight-year-old friend gripping the walker, her knuckles white. She’d exchanged slim-legged jeans for baggy drawstring pants. Her long, dark brown hair was gone, replaced with a no-fuss pixie.

  “Come in,” Emma said. “Let’s get you settled.”

  “I’ll get Miss Peach. She’s been cooped up in the car for hours. I’ll walk her around the yard before I bring her in.”

  Emma rolled her big brown eyes. “Only you would end up with a dog named Miss Peach. You, who never wanted the bother of a house plant, let alone a pet.”

  Ruby smiled and went back down the stairs to her car. “Things happen,” she replied, looking back over her shoulder. “But you’ll see. Peach has lovely manners.”

  Adjusting to living in someone else’s house, even Emma’s, was part of the reality she’d signed up for. But it wasn’t Ruby’s fault Emma was a cat person. No one had pressed Ruby to rescue a cat. Peach—Ruby dropped the Miss part most of the time—was a lovely golden retriever who’d more or less shown up at her door. Ruby lifted the hatchback to let the dog jump to the ground. “Time for introductions, Peach. You need to be on your best behavior.”

  Ruby clipped on the leash and wandered into the field of prairie flowers and grasses adjacent to the house. She lifted her face to the sun and closed her eyes, needing a minute to settle the uneasy stirring in her belly. Arriving on Emma’s doorstep was mixed up with so much more than simply adjusting to sharing someone else’s space for a couple of months. Only two weeks ago, Emma had called and asked her to come back to Bluestone River to help her through a back surgery. The procedure was a step of last resort and with any luck it could resolve the damage caused by an old injury once and for all.

  No need for Emma to point out the obvious: Ruby had nothing to lose by walking away from her life in Florida. In fact, Emma had been the first person Ruby called after the superintendent of the Morton School District told her to clean out her desk and leave the building. Only two years earlier, Ruby had embraced her job as the head of special programming for the school system with
her whole heart, living and breathing her innovative antibullying program as if nothing else mattered. Now, her reason for staying in Florida had vanished with her job.

  Ruby was brash in assuring her mom and her sister, Dee, that she’d quickly regroup and find a new, even better position where her efforts would be appreciated and fully supported. Maybe she’d even change fields. Wouldn’t that be something? In the meantime, Ruby feigned a breezy attitude during phone conversations with Emma, as if to say “don’t be silly, being unemployed was no big deal.” She had no regrets, she glibly claimed. Like she could fool Emma any more than she could fool herself.

  Twenty years ago Ruby fled Bluestone River and vowed never to come back. Leaving was her choice, but that hadn’t prevented her from feeling driven out by a tragedy that exploded every dream she’d ever had. The idea of returning to Bluestone River for any reason had been unthinkable, at least until Emma called. Ruby never could say no to her best friend.

  Now, the autumn breeze caressed her cheeks and fallen leaves swirled around Emma’s front yard and called up bittersweet memories of carefree days with Mike and Emma and all their friends.

  Ruby called the dog back to her side. “I couldn’t leave you behind in Florida, no matter what.” At the moment, the retriever was far more interested in the smells on the unfamiliar ground than the sound of Ruby’s voice, but Peach didn’t resist being led back to the house. “Don’t worry, girl, you’ll grow on Emma, just like you grew on me.” Ruby gave Peach an affectionate pat before going back up the stairs and letting herself in the house.

  “This place is fantastic, even better than the photos,” Ruby called out as she glanced around the great room and the open kitchen and dining room.

  The log home sat on twenty-five acres on the edge of town and only a half mile or so from Bluestone River’s landmark covered bridge. Emma’s late husband had designed this grand house with its stone fireplace and large windows, but Neil died not long after he and Emma had moved in. Everything inside, from the simple lines of the modern teak dining-room table and chairs, to the vintage needlepoint pillows on the couch, reflected Emma’s flair for blending old and new and making it all look chic. And uniquely Emma. Ruby saw no sign that Neil had ever lived there. Not surprising.

  Thinking about Neil always brought on a bout of sadness. She knew way too much about Neil and Emma’s unhappy years spent trying to make their marriage at least tolerable. They’d not let their private troubles seep out into the world, though. According to Emma, most people in town assumed she and Neil were happy high-school sweethearts, a lucky pair building their dream home. But Ruby was no outsider, so she knew the truth. Ruby pushed away those dark thoughts. None of it mattered now, anyway.

  The air was filled with the aromas of chocolate and ginger, and a sweet yeasty scent, like baking bread. “Em, please, don’t tell me you’ve been baking.”

  Emma flashed a pointed look. “Seriously? I can’t stand long enough to bake. That’s why I hired Brenda. She lost her job and needs a little income, so she does light cleaning and shopping, mostly for older people.” She smirked. “And people like me. She made a bakery run earlier. I don’t want us to run short on goodies.”

  Emma stood at the counter, her walker set aside for the moment. She pointed to sliding doors that opened to the deck. “That’s the magic spot. The place I take most of the tons of pictures that turn up on your phone.”

  “Almost daily,” Ruby said with a snicker. In the last couple of years, Emma’s emails and texts included shots of the deer regularly roaming the land, probably coming up from the direction of the river. Flocks of geese from the bird sanctuary visited the sloping field behind the house. About half of Emma’s acres were wooded. The rest was a field of prairie grasses and wildflowers whose shades of purples and reds and yellows were fading now.

  “It’s an incredible place, Em. I see why you love it so.” Luckily, it was plenty big enough to offer a separate space for her and Peach. She looked down at the dog, who’d stretched out in front of the patio doors. “See? I told you the dog was quiet. She’s being a little shy now.”

  Nodding to acknowledge Peach, Emma said, “Let me take you to your room before we have coffee. And yes, there’s lots of space for your cute retriever.” She shot Ruby a pointed look. “Okay, I admit, she’s a gorgeous dog. But I’m still surprised. Even as a kid you showed no interest in four-legged anything. No dogs or cats or gerbils. And you weren’t one of the horse girls.”

  Ruby shrugged. What started as Ruby keeping the dog for a couple of days as a favor turned into taking in Peach for good. Even her mother and Dee thought it was another sign of Ruby never letting a crisis, hers or someone else’s, go unmarked. Naturally, Dee had quipped, Ruby would end up with a dog whose eighty-something-year-old owner died suddenly.

  With Emma going down the short hallway at a snail’s pace, Ruby stayed well behind and timed her steps to the clunking of the walker hitting the hardwood floor. Once inside the room, though, Emma sat on a bench at an antique dressing table with a beveled oval mirror and inlaid designs in the wood.

  Ruby took in the cheerful pale sage-and-white bedroom, larger than it looked in photos and even more inviting. The closet doors alone took up half of one wall. The small writing desk and reading chair were positioned next to another set of patio doors looking out on the field of flowers. Touched by the obvious attempt to make her comfortable, Ruby remarked, “You said this was really a suite that has everything. And it’s true. The closet has more room than I could possibly need for what few things I brought.”

  Emma frowned. “On the phone the other day you said everything you own fit into your car. Is that really true?”

  “Almost. That’s how I wanted it and I managed to make it work.” Leaving Florida had been the easy part of all that had happened. Determined to take only what she could jam into the trunk, Ruby had packed up her apartment right down to the coffeepot and dish towels. Volunteers from the women’s shelter arrived one morning with a truck and hauled away her things—sofa, bed, sheets, even the vacuum cleaner. Watching the practical items of her life disappear, Ruby almost convinced herself it was all for the best. She needed a change, anyway. Right?

  She took a couple of steps to stand behind Emma and fluffed up the deep brown hair framing her face. “I love your short cut. And your hair is so shiny, like it always was. All you have to do is run your fingers through it and you’re done.” She smiled at Emma in the mirror. “But you could shave half of your head and you’d still be beautiful.”

  Emma responded with an “oh, please” groan.

  “Playing around with your hair brings back lots of memories. Remember how we used to put it all in giant rollers in useless attempts to make it curly?” Ruby laughed. “Now you’re lucky it’s straight and nice and thick.”

  Emma responded with a quick nod. “Not having my hair hanging down my back took some getting used to, but don’t become too attached to this pixie look.” She stood and gripped her walker. “As soon as I’m mobile and active, like I used to be, I’m growing it back.”

  Ruby drew her head back at the rise in Em’s voice as she spoke each word. “Yes, ma’am. You can do as you please.”

  “I didn’t mean to sound harsh.” Emma let out a soft chuckle. “My mind wasn’t really on my hair. I was recalling Neil demanding to know why I insisted we put up the drywall and finish this room right away. And why such a pale sage? I told him it was the color of your bedroom growing up, and you’d chosen it yourself. It was like I knew one day you’d be back.” She paused. “Maybe even for good.”

  Ruby’s throat closed. Not that it mattered, since she had no sarcastic comeback to Emma’s remark. She’d committed to staying for whatever amount of time Emma needed her. In some ways, it was a two-way street. As long as she and Peach stayed in this peaceful room in Emma’s house, Ruby could cut her expenses and make her savings last until she figured out where
to go and what to do next. But long-term? Ruby couldn’t conjure up any circumstance that would keep her in Bluestone River.

  “Rubes? Don’t go all silent on me. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Emma said in a low voice. “I was just talking off the top of my head. Like wishful thinking.”

  “It’s okay.” Ruby gave her friend’s shoulder a friendly pat. “Maybe if I could stay in this room and never leave, it would be okay. But even if I found a job in the schools or with a crisis line, which is unlikely, I can’t get past the minefield of memories.” Ruby stared at the floor. “Sometimes, the sweetest of them are as unbearable as the worst.”

  “I know, I know. You’ve said as much for twenty years now.”

  Emma turned her walker to face the doorway. “But Ruby, not everyone in town remembers or, to be blunt, cares what happened to your family. Meanwhile, you’ve let a twenty-year-old tragedy rule your life.”

  “Well, so sorry,” Ruby snapped, keeping her distance behind Emma, who’d started down the hall. “No lectures, please.”

  “Up ’til now, I’ve always happily visited you wherever you happened to be,” Emma said, not breaking her pace until she reached the table and eased into a chair. “I accepted your refusal to visit me here. To be more precise, I preferred it. You know that. Taking off to see you was a good excuse to get away from Neil and our problems.”

  “You and I had some great trips over the years,” Ruby said, hoping to steer the subject away from her family history.

  “Didn’t we ever,” Emma said with exaggerated nostalgia. “Now that you’re back in town, though, I think you’ll finally get it, Ruby. Your memories are like ghosts that follow you around. You can’t run fast enough to get ahead of them.”

  Ruby held her tongue and tried to cool the heat rising within her. The last thing she wanted was to lash out at Emma, but earlier, when she’d driven past the Welcome to Bluestone River sign on the way into town, every muscle had gone rigid. She’d gripped the wheel and forced herself to keep her foot on the accelerator and not the brake. She didn’t need Emma challenging her now. She leaned over and calmed herself by burying her hand in Peach’s fur and patting her back.