Plain Obsession (Hunters Ridge Book 1)

by Alison Stone

  Plain Obsession

  Alison Stone

  Treehaven Press

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Also by Alison Stone

  About the Author

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  PLAIN OBSESSION

  Treehaven Press

  Copyright © 2017 by Alison Stone

  Editor: Julia Ganis, JuliaEdits.com.

  Cover Art: The Killion Group

  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 written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  To my husband and kids, love you guys always and forever

  Chapter 1

  Violet flicked off the cap of the medicine bottle and shook out one tiny pill. She studied it in the palm of her hand and popped it into her mouth.

  It seemed like such a Jacque thing to do.

  People had always told her that she had reminded them of her mother and this was the first time in her twenty-seven years that she suspected they might be right.

  Violet Jackson had resisted the siren call of the small bottle for the entire drive over here, but now she feared she'd pass out or her heart was going to beat out of her chest. Someone would find her unconscious in her little red sports car parked alongside the country road and the rumors would start anew.

  You can do this.

  Deep breath. In through her nose. Out through her mouth.

  Violet stared up at the neat farmhouse where her dear friend Abby had once lived. The young Amish girl had come a long way from this farm in Hunters Ridge to becoming an assistant in Jacque Caldwell's business empire.

  All because of her friendship with Violet.

  All because of her…

  She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to hold back the wave of grief that had swelled and was ready to swamp her at a moment's notice. Drowning her.

  Deep breath. In through her nose. Out through her mouth.

  The calming effects of the medication began to take the edge off. She had white-knuckled it all the way here, even though she hated driving, and yet she couldn't continue to push through her rioting emotions to face what came next.

  Rolling her shoulders, she knew she couldn't sit here forever. Her red sports car wasn't exactly incognito among the Amish farms and buggies that made up most of the population of Hunters Ridge, New York, a sleepy town in Western New York.

  Touching the bottle through the fabric of her coat pocket like a talisman, she reached for the car door handle with the other.

  "Okay…" she breathed out loud to herself. "You can do this." You have to do this.

  By the time Violet reached the hard earth of the farm's driveway, she was amazed that all her panic symptoms had broken up and drifted away like the white floaties in the air after a wish on a dandelion.

  The cornfields had been harvested for feed by equipment and horses from a long-ago era. She had watched the process from a distance when she'd lived in Hunters Ridge as a teenager. Only a small section of the field remained. They'd have to hurry. Silver clouds hunkered down on the horizon threatening snow. The beginning of November was a bit early for the white stuff, even for this part of the country. That's why she had to reach out to Abby's family today. Because once it snowed, she'd never find the nerve to drive.

  By the time she reached the front porch, her sweaty hands and heart palpations were gone. It was a strange feeling, like she had kicked back a glass or two of wine. Courage without having to work for it.

  Violet didn't know if Mrs. Graber was home, but she suspected she'd be in the kitchen preparing a meal for her husband and three children.

  She used to have four.

  Violet's shoes clacked on the bare wood of the porch, echoing in the stillness of the afternoon. The farmhouse looked neat and simple. Abby, two years younger than Violet, had marveled at all the fancy things found at the big house on the hill, as all the locals called Jacque Caldwell's country estate. Violet wondered not for the first time how differently things would have been if Abby hadn't come to work for her mother when she had finished up her eighth grade education, all that was allowed.

  Sadness, Violet's constant companion, struggled to get its vicious claws into her. Thanks to the meds pumping through her veins, it was loosening its hold even as she wondered what she was doing here. What did she truly expect?

  Clearing her throat, she lifted her hand to knock and the door flew open as if someone had been standing inside waiting for her. That, however, was doubtful. If they had, they probably would have stopped her at the end of the driveway. Chased her back to her car. Tried to keep the outsider out.

  Staring back at her was Elmer Graber, Abby's brother. He had been only fifteen when he hitched up the horse and buggy and met his sister at the fast-food restaurant in town. He had brought along his younger twin sisters to say goodbye to their big sister Abby who was leaving Hunters Ridge and the Amish way for good.

  Gone was the chubby-faced teen. The sadness in his eyes had been replaced by a steely gaze.

  A half smile flickered across her lips at the sight of him, but if he recognized her, he didn't show it.

  "Elmer, it's Violet."

  "I know who you are." His harsh response might have had a more chilling effect on her thirty minutes ago.

  "Is your mother home?"

  "Yah, but that's no business of yours." He blocked the doorway, as if she might force her way inside.

  "Please, I'd like to speak to her." She tapped her thumb from one finger to the next, a habit a long-ago therapist had taught her to distract herself.

  "Who's there, Elmer?" A woman Violet had only seen at a distance approached, drying her hands on a dishtowel.

  "Hello, Mrs. Graber, I'm Violet Jackson. Abby's friend." The words felt like a lie on her lips. Some friend.

  "Abigail," Mrs. Graber said. "Her name was Abigail."

  "Yes, of course."

  All the color seemed to drain from the Amish woman's face. Elmer took his mother's arm and directed her to a wooden bench flanked by two rocking chairs in a sitting room off the entryway.

  Violet stepped inside and paused, struggling to remember why she had come here in the first place. Was she being selfish? Looking to make herself feel better at the expense of the Graber family?

  "I don't mean to upset you. I wanted to stop by and tell you how sorry I am about Abigail." Her dear friend had preferred her nickname.

  Mrs. Graber sat silently, wringing the dishtowel, her bonneted head tipped forward.

  "Is this why you have come? To upset my mother?" Elmer asked.

  "No, absolutely not." Violet fingered the cuffs of her
coat and wondered why she had thought this was a good idea. "Abby—Abigail—was my best friend and I feel awful about what happened."

  Mrs. Graber lifted her head and stared at Violet with watery eyes. "My biggest regret in life is that I allowed my daughter to take that job working for your family. She was too young. Impressionable. It was the devil's work, making her want what she couldn't have."

  The venom in her tone chipped away at the fuzziness dulling Violet’s panic.

  "Abigail enjoyed her life. She was happy." Violet wasn't sure this was what mattered to Mrs. Graber. Actually, she knew it wasn't. Abby had told Violet a lot about the Amish way of thinking during their long talks at the mansion. Two teenagers from very different worlds had bridged the gap. Violet had needed a friend. And Abby was looking for a way out.

  Shoes sounded on the stairs. One of Abigail's twin sisters stood on the bottom step. The resemblance to her deceased sister was striking.

  "Hi, Violet," she said shyly. She must have been listening from the top of the stairs.

  "Stay in your room," Elmer yelled.

  The teenager, Violet guessed seventeen or eighteen now, turned and bolted up the stairs without a complaint.

  Elmer strode past Violet and opened the door wide. "You need to go."

  Violet blinked slowly and nodded. "I'm sorry. I truly am." She turned to leave, realizing all the stories she had heard about the Amish and forgiveness didn't apply in this situation. Why should they? The Amish were human. The Graber family wasn't ready to forgive her.

  Maybe with time.

  But even time wouldn't bring Abigail back.

  And no one could blame Violet more than she blamed herself.

  A brisk wind whipping in from the west smacked her in the face as she jogged toward her car. She didn't dare turn around, but she could feel the eyes of hatred boring into the back of her head from somewhere on what once was a peaceful Amish farm.

  Chapter 2

  Theo Cooper hung up the phone after talking to one of his suppliers and leaned back. The torn leather on the arm of the office chair scraped against his forearm. The chair gave an ominous groan as he reached across and stretched the slats of the grimy blinds with two fingers.

  His gaze traveled to the warehouse across the parking lot, then toward the road. No one. He released the blinds and reconsidered all the reasons why hiring Violet Jackson, even if only temporarily, was a bad idea. Sure, Cooper and Sons Lumber needed to get their books in order, and his dad knew a guy who'd suggested the perfect temporary hire.

  But Violet…

  Theo let out a long breath. He would have put the brakes on the suggestion if he had known who it was. By the time he found out, it would have been too rude to cancel the interview. Never in a million years would he have guessed Violet was back in Hunters Ridge. She had zipped out of here after high school graduation in a fancy limo, the same way she had arrived four years earlier.

  Too good for this small town.

  Too good for him.

  He supposed he wasn't blameless in the way things had ended, but he was the kind of guy who didn't like to look back. Live and let live and all that. Regrets were for the weak. Something nudged at the base of his brain, suggesting he wasn't being exactly honest, but Theo didn't find much use in rehashing the past. He rubbed a hand across his mouth and wondered if his thoughts had always been this philosophical and cliché-ridden.

  He leaned forward and the chair squeaked again. He scanned his humble office with a critical eye. Humble was being kind. This office was a step below humble. He and his cousin Chad, the co-owners of Cooper and Sons Lumber, had a thriving business, but were too busy running the day-to-day operations to make much-needed office improvements. He wondered if Hewlett and Packard had felt this way in their garage.

  Ahhh. He smiled to himself. If only. Cooper and Sons was successful in that it provided jobs in the small community, but not big-time successful, which led him back to wondering why Violet would give them the time of day.

  However, if he and Chad had any hopes of continuing to successfully run the business, they had to get the accounting books in order. Theo's father had maintained the books until his heart attack this past May, six months ago, which led to his forced early retirement in Florida. Since then, neither Chad nor Theo had prioritized bookkeeping. They kept up with bills and payroll, but that was it. They needed to get things in order.

  Truth be told, prior to his dad's heart attack, Theo lived a thousand miles away, fully intending to make the army his career. But his priorities changed when his dad's health took a turn.

  A solid knocking sounded on the door and snapped him out of his meandering thoughts.

  Theo could have stretched from his chair and opened the door, but he thought better of it. He stood, plastered on a friendly smile and yanked open the door, and his greeting died on his lips. The nine years since high school had been kind to Violet. Pretty in high school had morphed into all-out stunning, even if she did try to play it down.

  "Um…" Violet's dark eyes flashed, and a confused look swept across her face. "Hi, Theo… I have an interview with your dad?" Her statement came out more as a question. "Is he in?"

  "No, he's not." Theo smiled at the young Amish woman who had shown Violet to his office. "Thanks, Lorianne. I'll take it from here."

  Lorianne nodded her bonneted head, then hustled across the lot to the warehouse where a crew of mostly Amish workers cut and stacked wood for backyard play set kits.

  Violet seemed to give the Amish woman a double take, then turned and smiled tightly at Theo, confusion in her big brown eyes.

  "Please come in, it's freezing out there." He made an exaggerated show of looking up at the sky. "Looks like winter is coming early to Hunters Ridge."

  "Yeah, winter's coming." Based on the quick wince, he could tell she regretted the trite weather comment. She turned to face him in the small space. The top of her head reached his chin, perfect for resting her head on his chest for a slow dance. He quickly shook the thought away.

  “I trust you found the place okay?”

  “Yes, but I was under the impression that I was meeting with your dad. I guess I'm a little confused."

  "Perhaps that's my fault. My father set up the interview. He said he knew someone who knew someone." He made a rolling gesture with his hand. "You know how it is in a small town? He didn't tell me it was you until a few days ago."

  "Isaac Weaver, the caretaker at my mother's property, told me your father was looking for some short-term help. I thought…" She let her words trail off, not finishing. Violet tugged on one end of her scarf and unthreaded it from around her neck. She slipped her arms out of her coat. She had always been trim, but she seemed even thinner now. Her cheeks were flushed, no doubt from the howling winds. "If this is too weird…"

  "No, no…" Besides, where was he going to find another accountant on such short notice?

  Violet glanced around the office, her long brown hair draping over her shoulders and down to her elbows. She wore it shorter in high school, but both styles were flattering. Violet never had to try at being pretty. It came naturally, even though she didn’t seem to realize it. She had always been more focused on school, which apparently had served her well.

  An awkward silence stretched between them and Theo suddenly realized he had been staring. He laughed, trying to hide his embarrassment, and held out his hand to an extra chair tucked between the desk and the couch. "Please, have a seat. Can I get you something? I used to have a coffee machine in the corner, but it conked out. There's fresh coffee in the warehouse across the parking lot."

  "I'm fine." She smoothed a hand down her coat and sat. She struck him as very reserved, but then how would he know what she was like? He hadn't laid eyes on her in almost a decade.

  Theo cleared his throat and decided to get right down to business. "We need an accountant to get our books in order. My dad kept the books until his sudden retirement last May." He rubbed the back of his neck. "This should b
e a short-term job. How long do you plan to be in town anyway?" He hoped he sounded as cool as he thought he did.

  Violet's red lips curved into a tight smile. "For a little while." She crossed her legs and hugged the coat closer to her body. "I'm in a career transition." Her lips tightened into a straight line. "I understand you only need someone temporarily. It fits my timeline."

  Theo studied the way she threaded and unthreaded her fingers while she talked. Had something happened that brought her back to Hunters Ridge?

  "Yes, definitely temporary. Remember my cousin Chad? He's my business partner. We both think we can handle the record-keeping once we get organized."

  "I've managed my mother's business for years and have gotten away from accounting, but before I went to work for Jacque I majored in accounting. I'd be happy to give you a hand."

  "Can I ask why you're interested?" He could tell the question was too personal by the way the color drained from her face.

  "Does it matter?" she asked flatly.

  "I suppose not. Can you start tomorrow?"

  "Sure." Violet glanced toward the door, then back at him. She struck him as distracted. "Tell me a little bit about the business."

  "My grandfather started this company when my dad and uncle were boys. Basic lumberyard. My uncle died about ten years ago. A handful of years ago, my dad started a side business of making play sets. Some of them are pretty elaborate, almost like tree houses. I've even started designing some myself. My dad took care of the bookkeeping. After his illness, we got behind." He tapped a sketch in front of him for one of his more recent designs: two turrets, a tire swing and a climbing wall. "We've gained a reputation for quality and we have to work all winter to fill orders for when the weather improves." Theo was determined to make sure his dad could continue to afford retirement in the Sunshine State for as long as he wanted. It was the least Theo could do for his dad after giving him such a rough time while he was growing up. He now understood how hard it was to be a single dad raising a son.