by Karen Ferry
Table of Contents
Prologue
Epilogue
BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR
Foreword
Author’s Note
Laura
Kristian
Acknowledgments
Playlist
About the Author
Time to Learn
Book #3 in the Believe Series
Karen Ferry
Contents
BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR
Foreword
Author’s Note
Prologue
1. Laura
2. Kristian
3. Laura
4. Laura
5. Laura
6. Kristian
7. Kristian
8. Laura
9. Kristian
10. Kristian
11. Kristian
12. Laura
13. Kristian
14. Kristian
15. Laura
16. Kristian
17. Kristian
18. Kristian
19. Laura
20. Kristian
21. Laura
22. Kristian
23. Kristian
24. Laura
25. Laura
26. Laura
27. Kristian
28. Laura
29. Kristian
30. Kristian
31. Kristian
32. Kristian
33. Laura
34. Kristian
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Playlist
About the Author
BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR
Make Me Believe (Believe #1)
Fool For Love (Believe #2)
Christmas Wishes – a Fool For Love novella
(Believe #2.5)
Time To Learn (Believe #3)
A Precious Love – a Believe short story
featured in THE LOVE AFTER LOSING ANTHOLOGY
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, brands, places, media, and incidents are either the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referred to in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission.
The publication/use of these trademarks are not authorised, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means (including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods) without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2017 by Karen Ferry
Stock Photos: Stocksy – https://www.stocksy.com
Adobe Stock - https://stock.adobe.com
Formatting by: Vellum & Karen Ferry
Cover Designer: Susan Garwoond © Wicked Women Designs – http://www.wickedcovers.com
Editor: Karen J.
Proofreading by: Amanda Maria - AM to PM Book Services
FOR LAURA
Though we are miles apart, you are always in my heart.
Thank you for being part of my family.
Being someone’s first love may be great,
but to be their last is beyond perfect.
U N K N O W N
Author’s Note
I have always written a short note in each of my books, and seeing as this is the last full-length novel of The Believe Series, I am not about to break tradition.
I never set out to write this book, but a very close friend of mine demanded that I gave her Kristian’s story in particular. Ever since she had met him in my first book, Make Me Believe, and even though said meeting was very short, she had become fascinated with him—and her soft heart needed to know how his happily-ever-after would turn out. So, after a lot of thinking, I decided, “Why not?”
I started to write this book about a year ago. At first, I only meant for it to be a novella, but with each chapter I wrote, the more it became evident that there was a lot to tell about both Laura and Kristian. They kept me up late at night, and I wondered if I would be able to reveal all their secrets perfectly. I hope I have done a good job.
Now, Time To Learn is finished, and I am beyond happy that I listened to my friend so long ago—or so it seems to be, even though it has only been a couple of years. This book is a true labour of love, and while I am a very sensible person, knowing full well that not everyone will enjoy it, I do hope you will see how much I care for these characters. I have tried to bring them to life in such a way that is true to myself and my heart, but also realistic in many ways. Because that is the kind of author I am—I want to write romance stories that could very well happen in the real world. And in the world in which we live, things get messy all the time—but that is what is so fascinating, isn’t it?
One last thing—like I mentioned above, this is the last novel of the series, but definitely not the last story. There are other characters that you have met before that I will start to pay attention to soon. Just like I promised.
Happy reading. Thank you for taking a chance on me and my work. It truly means the world to me.
Much love,
Karen Ferry.
Prologue
Laura Turley
Breathe.
In.
Out.
Don't think. Don't look back. Don't be afraid that he's following you. Take heart that you've got away.
That you are free of him at last.
My body is tormented with shivers, and my tummy clenches when I think back on how things went in court today. I clasp my fingers together, twisting and turning them in my lap until the pain makes me gasp.
“You okay, babe?” Trish’s concerned voice pulls me out of the fog my brain’s been in the last couple of months.
I swallow the lump in my throat and try to smile at the part of her face I can see in the rear-view mirror.
“I’ll be okay,” I croak.
I haven’t spoken freely for so long. The unfamiliar tone of my voice surprises me, and I wonder for how long I’ve sounded so dull and lifeless. Now that I’m starting to see things more clearly, I know that’s not how I used to be.
Her blue eyes soften at my vague answer, but just as I fear that she’s about to ask me more questions, her gaze shifts from mine and turns back to the road in front of her. I slump in my seat and close my eyes.
The truth is that I’m the furthest from okay that a person could possibly be—especially after just having been acquitted from cold-blooded murder.
“Mummy?”
I look to my left, at the most precious thing in the whole world sitting next to me—my daughter, Ailith.
“Yes, sweetie?” My smile is forced, crooked. I know she doesn't believe it.
“Will he...will he come after us?”
My heart breaks at the trembling fear I can hear in her voice.
Shaking my head, I reach for her hand and glance at the road in front of us. My hand trembles badly, but the touch of her skin on mine is like a balm to my wounded soul, and I take courage from it.
Thank God it's summer and the road is clear. At least we don't have to worry about a storm.
“No. He won't come after us, I promise,” I whisper. “He won't hurt us ever again.”
Silence.
“I hate him,” she whispers then.
I want to break down and cry.
She’s too young to know what hate is.
I keep telling myself that Ailit
h doesn't really understand what's happening, or why Trish is driving us. I told her that we're going on an adventure, that we're visiting her Nan, and while that part is true, I didn't tell her that the duration of our visit will be permanent.
But I should've known better. My daughter is only six years old, but she's smart, perceptive. I wish she could've kept the innocence of childhood for longer; that I could've shielded the cruelty happening in our own home from her.
I've failed in so many ways as a mother in the past, but no more.
“I hate him, too,” I whisper before I clear my throat, trying to get my emotions under control. “I swear to you that I won't let anything happen to you,” I vow. I chance another quick glance at her, squeezing her hand in mine. The tears on her freckled cheeks break my heart.
“From now on, it's just you and me, Ailith Margaret.” I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss it. “I promise.”
“It's just you, me, and Nan Wenn,” she replies, and my smile is more genuine this time.
“And me,” Trish pipes up, making the thickness in my throat return in full force. I blink rapidly, trying to stop the relieved sob from escaping my lips.
I’ve had a lot of practice in keeping my true emotions bottled up inside, though, and I manage to get myself under control.
Nodding slowly, I look back at Ailith.
“Yes. It's just the four of us from now on. Please try to sleep. We still have another two hours left before we'll be at Nan's.”
“Okay, Mummy.”
A couple of minutes later, I hear faint snoring falling from her mouth, and I breathe deeply again. A strange mixture of relief and fear overtakes me from the enormity of what I've escaped today.
Relief that we're finally free.
Fear of what'll happen now.
But I won't let the fear win this time.
I refuse to be weak anymore.
The future is an unknown entity at the moment, but one thing I do know for certain—that I won't ever let fear rule my life ever again.
Our life.
“Mum,” I whisper into the darkness of the night. “We're coming home now.”
1
Laura
Two years later
From Laura’s Journal
People say that wounds heal over time. They say that once the evil that has been a part of your life for so long has been slain—as if you were a knight wielding a sword, murdering the fire-spewing dragon—and is gone for good, that you will be able to breathe freely again.
I disagree.
The physical evidence of my wounds might have healed since Ailith and I escaped our prison two years ago, but in my heart, they still fester and burn as if they are wide open. They haven’t scabbed over or healed at all, and I’m so sick and tired of waking up each morning feeling the pain inside my soul as if it was only yesterday that we found our freedom.
Each night I go to bed, praying that the healing process will have started when I wake up the next day.
Yet each morning, when I wake up at the crack of dawn, my hopes are dashed as I feel them prickling and probing my insides.
When will it end?
If it weren’t for Ailith, I don’t think I’d have had the strength to keep going forward.
If it weren’t for my mum and her horses, I wouldn’t have a routine.
If it weren’t for my journal, I wouldn’t be here.
These three factors are the reasons I can push the ghosts of the past aside and go about my days, pretending to the people around me that I’m back to being my old self.
One day, I hope I will be.
“Ailith! It’s time to go!” I shout, craning my neck to look at the top of the stairs when I hear her running feet.
“Mum, I can’t find my lucky jeans!” she yells back. She throws her hands in the air, clearly in a state of pre-teen panic. I open my mouth to tell her where to find them, but she goes off running again.
Sighing, I check my watch before I take the stairs two steps at a time.
“We can’t be late this time,” I rush as I reach the doorway to her room. “They’re in your wardrobe. Come on, get a move on, please.”
“I don’t know why we have to go to some stupid dentist,” she mutters as she sits down on her bed.
I suppress another tired sigh. They seem to happen more frequently these days than they used to.
“Please don’t start this again, Ailith Margaret.”
She pulls on her black jeans, pouting, but I ignore it and check the time again.
Great. We’ll be late.
“I’ll wait for you downstairs,” I mutter and then leave her alone. I can’t deal with another pouting session when I’ve not even had the chance to get a proper cup of coffee yet.
I hurry downstairs and go into the kitchen just as Mum comes in through the backdoor. Her grey hair is as messy as Ailith’s auburn curls, and, like her granddaughter, she doesn’t care one bit. Instead, she lets it fall wildly down her back most days.
And like Ailith, she can usually be seen wearing riding gear, or a pair of jeans.
Those two are like two peas in a pod despite all the years separating them. Happy to spend their days outside and amongst the horses.
I love that about them.
“I thought you’d have left by now, Laura,” she says, her eyes raised in question as she wipes her feet on the worn mat. Sally, her old border collie, trots towards me, and I bend down to scratch her ears.
“So did I, Mum. But Ailith needed her lucky jeans and she couldn’t find them.” I roll my eyes and snort.
Mum chuckles as she hangs up her oilskin jacket on the peg.
“Ah, I see.”
I wrinkle my nose as I walk to the table in the middle of the room and pick up the coffee pot, shaking it a bit. I manage to suppress the sigh that wants to erupt from my mouth this time even though I almost want to weep when I find the pot empty. Empty.
“I thought the pre-teen years wouldn’t start for at least another four or five years.” A sense of foreboding about the future settles in my heart.
“Well, Ailith isn’t like other children her age. You know that.”
My eyes spring to her face at the tone of her voice, wondering if she’s yet again conveniently forgetting that we don’t ever mention the past. Her profile is turned away, though, as she walks to the kitchen sink to wash the grime from the stables off her hands, and I let it go.
“Will you be home for lunch?” she asks me.
Relieved to hear the lightness is back in her voice, I force the unhappy thoughts from my mind and shake my head.
“No, we’re going to take a stroll around town while we’re there. Do you need me to pick up anything for you?”
I lean a hip against the kitchen counter and drum my fingers on the old rocker next to me, impatient to get a move on.
“You mean, do I need a new book, hmm?”
Smiling as she half turns to smirk at me, I shrug, a bit sheepish she caught me out—again.
“Maybe.”
She shakes her head lightly.
“No, thank you, lass.” She wipes her hands and then points a finger at her purse on the table. “But there’s a tenner in my wallet—please take that and treat you and Ailith to a trinket or two.”
“Mum,” I protest. “You can’t keep spoiling us like this.”
“Oh, shush,” she tuts. “Of course I can.”
I smile warmly at her, touched by her gift. It’s no use trying to fight her on this. I know my protestations will fall on deaf ears.
Wenn Sophie Turley doesn’t take no for an answer.
I pick up her purse and open it to grab the note, putting it in my jacket pocket.
“Mum, I’m ready now,” Ailith calls as she bounces down the stairs, and I give Mum a quick wave as I turn to leave.
“Right, we’ll be off. See you later.”
“Have fun, you two! Do try to find a man to invite home for dinner this time, Laura.”
Shaking
my head at Mum’s usual goodbye, I take Ailith’s hand in mine and smile down at her.
“Come on, let’s get going.”
As she smiles up at me, I breathe a small sigh of relief that she’s forgotten her bad mood already. I open the door, crossing my fingers that my ancient Beetle will start this time without coughing and spluttering like an old goat. Ailith turns just before we’re out the door and waves at Mum.
“Bye, Gan-Gan!”
“Bye, sweetheart,” Mum laughs at Ailith’s made-up name for her and waves back at her.
As we walk outside to the car, and I look up at the beautiful blue sky, I try not to stress too much about being late for our appointment.
Life is too short for worrying all the time.
If only I listened to my own advice more often, things might be easier for me to handle in the long run.
“Can we go by the ice cream shop now?” Ailith asks me for the umpteenth time, a slight whine to her voice, after we leave the dentist.
“No, we can’t. You heard what he said—if you continue to eat too much sugar, your teeth will fall out.”
I put the receipt in my pocket as we walk down Sauchiehall Street to get to the large bookshop, Waterstones.
