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Georgia On My Mind (A Magnolias and Moonshine novella Book 7)

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by Amanda McIntyre




  Georgia On My Mind

  (A Magnolias and Moonshine novella, Vol.7)

  An End of the Line novella

  By

  Amanda McIntyre

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

  Georgia On My Mind

  Copyright 2017 by Amanda McIntyre

  Cover art by Elaina Lee

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Amanda McIntyre

  http://www.amandamcintyresbooks.com

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Introduction to the Magnolias & Moonshine series

  Welcome to the Magnolias and Moonshine series, where you’ll fall in love with the South. Twenty New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon bestselling authors joined together to bring you a taste of Southern charm in this brand-new Magnolias & Moonshine series. There is something for everyone with these ten sweet and ten sizzle contemporary romance novellas. You’ll enjoy stories with cowboys, weddings, county fairs, lovers reunited, and much more. GEORGIA ON MY MIND is seventh in the series list.

  Step into the world of the south and hear the cicadas, taste a mint julep, and smell the magnolias in bloom.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter One

  Justin didn’t feel ten years older. Then again, there were days when, after wrangling more than one hundred students, he felt ninety. But even that didn’t compare to how he felt as he stared at the tiny four-by-six postcard and debated his decision…whether to attend his class reunion in Atlanta.

  Justin sighed. The old desk chair squawked as he leaned back, eyeing the invitation. Answering it had been the single most thought on his mind this past week—that, and the memories of the past he’d been fighting to forget.

  He’d found sanctuary, if only for a few moments, hidden in the tiny office in the boys’ locker room. He was closing in on the end of his third year in the once-booming mining town of End of the Line, Montana, where he taught history and coached the End of the Line Eagles football team.

  He propped the invitation against his Eagle’s coffee mug--a gift from the team on his birthday. He’d meant to answer the R.S.V.P over the past couple of months, but had conveniently found a number of reasons to procrastinate. A phone call from his mom last night had pushed him a little closer to making a decision, one way or another.

  “You get that gray mare settled down?” his mom asked. She was a master at addressing major issues by sliding them through the backdoor of a conversation.

  “We did,” Justin answered. He sat on the porch swing on his small acreage looking at the late spring sunset. It was a view he would never tire of, but one that he longed to share with someone. And not just anyone—someone by the name of Georgia. He brushed away the thought as he’d done a million times that day. “Michael Greyfeather is an amazing man. He seems to have an instinct when it comes to animals. We’re already looking for a forever home for her.”

  “That’s wonderful.” There was a pause. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we all possessed such a skill when it came to each other?”

  Justin chuckled, knowing the reference was pointed to the tense relationship between him and his twin brother, Jake. “I suppose it’d work if you’re dealing with an ass.”

  His mom issued a soft but stern warning. “Justin.”

  He headed off the question he knew was coming next. “And before you ask, no, I haven’t spoken to him.”

  “Who?” she asked.

  “Mom, please. There are few times you call me on a Thursday night. Sundays are your day.”

  “Fine. I had a call from Jake earlier today and he might have asked whether I’d heard from you.”

  “Yeah? Why doesn’t he just call me?” Justin took a sip of his Jack Daniels. It wasn’t something he often chose at the end of the day, but tonight he needed it. Too many nights had been tormented by images of a dark-haired, green-eyed woman he’d thought was out of his system. Damn his photographic memory.

  “You know, I can tell you that life’s too short.”

  “Yes, Mom, you can and I’d agree. Too short to dwell on the past. Am I right?” Justin frowned as the whiskey slid down his throat in a slow burn.

  “On what you have no power to do anything about, certainly.” His mother rivaled Mr. Spock in the logic department. “But this thing between you and your brother…”

  “Thing?” Justin straightened, leaning forward as though braced for a fight. “He went behind my back--” Justin paused, forcing himself to bottle his anger. “The point is, maybe things didn’t work out between me and Georgia, but Jake—Jake’s never mentioned a thing about what he did, much less apologized.” He understood how this division between her sons hurt his mom. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t want to get into this.”

  “I know, honey.” There was a soft sigh from the other end of the phone. “I don’t think it was done as maliciously as you’ve painted it.”

  Justin pressed his fingers to his forehead, massaging the dull ache that had started. “Jake rarely does anything, Mom, that doesn’t somehow benefit Jake.”

  “In that regard, he’s more like your father just before he died. But understand, Justin, your Dad wasn’t always that way. I think the company rooted itself inside your dad and it finally took him.”

  Justin bit his lip. Georgia had been the one to break things off with him, even before he’d found out what Jake had done.

  “I just don’t want the same thing to happen to your brother. Faith is a sweet girl. But you, Justin, have always been able to get your brother to balance his perspective.”

  “At what cost, Mom?” he asked.

  “I like to think that things worked out for you, honey. You’re working and living in exactly the place you’d always wanted to be. You’re content--”

  “That’s debatable,” Justin interjected.

  “Surely, you’ve dated some nice girls since you’ve been in End of the Line?”

  His doorbell rang, saving him from having to launch into a handful of dates, most of which he botched by mentally comparing them to Georgia. “Mom, my dinner is here. I’ll call you later in the week.”

  “Okay, honey, love you. Go talk to your brother.”

  He hung up. This damn invitation had blown a hole in his sequestered little life. When he was seated on his porch swing, coffee in hand, catching a brilliant sunset, he’d convinced himself he didn’t need any more than this. Trouble was, he’d convinced his brain, not so much his heart.

  ***

  Justin glanced once more at the black-and-white photo of his alma mater. Memories of a rainy afternoon—of him and Georgia--on an old dirt road flickered in his brain. He shook his head. Water under the bridge. He forced his thoughts to the present as he heard the locker room door open and looked up to see his star quarterback over the past three years. “Hey, Eric. How’s it going?”

  “Hey, Coach. I just stopped by to get this signed.” He handed him a pink slip of paper. “My folks want to leave tomorrow a
fter lunch. Dad wants to get an early start on some freakin’ family road trip.” The teen, now a junior and with a promising future in football, leaned against the doorframe.

  The paper fluttered in the breeze left in the wake of the small oscillating fan Justin had brought in and put on the file cabinet to keep the air moving in the locker room.

  The boy sighed. “Don’t you think that Canada in the summer pretty much looks like Montana?” Eric asked despairingly. “I mean, why now? We’ve never taken one. It’s the summer before my senior year. I have to take off work, miss doing stuff with my friends—who, by the way, are heading down to Texas.”

  Justin chuckled softly under his breath as he added his name to the list getting the boy out of tomorrow’s study hall. He handed it back, sympathizing with the boy’s frustration—parents were impossible to understand. Even so, he felt compelled to offer a bit of ‘teacher-like’ wisdom. “Hey, your senior year goes pretty fast. Then you’ll be heading off to college on a scholarship, no doubt.”

  Eric shrugged, though his expression remained unenthusiastic. “I’m keeping my grades up, so yeah, I guess.”

  Justin continued. “Well, then, you’ll be starting your life at college, meeting new people, maybe a girl--”

  Eric snorted. “I’ll have to fight them off.”

  “Yeah, then the next thing you know, you’re married, starting a family…”

  “Whoa, Coach, slow your roll. I haven’t even met ‘the girl’ yet.” He crooked his fingers for emphasis.

  “My point,” Justin said, “is that this road trip that seems lame right now might look pretty good in the rearview mirror. You get what I’m saying?”

  The teen--his hair grown longer in the off season, along with the scruffy beard--gazed at Justin for a moment. “Yeah, I guess.” He lifted a shoulder. “Besides, I’ve got my laptop and noise-cancelling headphones. I can watch movies, right?”

  As a teacher, he could only advise so much. “Right.” Justin leaned forward. He dropped his pen on the desk and the invitation fluttered to the teen’s feet.

  Eric picked it up and casually glanced at it. “So, your class reunion, huh?” he asked, raising a brow as he handed Justin the card. “You going?”

  Uncomfortable to be placed on the spot, Justin took back the card and tossed it on the desk. “Not sure. The timing isn’t very good for me.”

  The boy’s mouth turned up in a challenging smile. “What was that you were saying about rearview mirrors?”

  Damn. He had been listening. Justin glanced at the card, picked it up, and tapped it against the desk. It’d been a long time since he’d set foot in Atlanta…and he had his reasons. “Go on, Eric. Enjoy this time with your family. Life’s too short.” His mother’s words popped out before he even realized it.

  “Yep, like you always tell us, Coach--family is everything.” He turned to leave. “Have a good summer. See you at football camp.”

  “Family is everything,” Justin muttered. His mom was right. This had gone on long enough. While he couldn’t control all that had happened, he could straighten things out with Jake. Maybe in doing so, he’d be able to put the past to rest in his heart and his brain.

  ***

  “Sorry I’m late. My pre-marriage appointment with a young couple from church went longer than I’d expected.” Leslie Cook—now Reverend Leslie Cook of the First Church of Christ in End of the Line, Montana—slid into the booth across from Justin. Considering they lived in such a small town, the two old friends barely saw one another, and lately it had become increasingly difficult even to schedule a dinner together.

  “Did you warn them off about the pitfalls of romance?” Justin offered a slanted grin as he glanced over the menu at Betty’s diner.

  His friend gave him a smile. “Cynicism doesn’t look good on you, Justin.” She picked up one of the menus Betty had left.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in. I haven’t seen you two out on a date together since you moved here.” Betty smiled at one and then the other as she set their wrapped utensils and water on the table. “Glad to see you managed to get this guy out on a real date.” Betty chuckled under her breath.

  Justin and Leslie looked at her. “It’s not a date,” they said in unison.

  The owner and part-time waitress of the popular eating spot in the little town glanced at each of them and smiled. “Of course, you’re not.” She pulled out a small tablet and licked the tip of the pencil. “Ok, kids”--because anyone younger than her was considered a kid--“what’ll it be? We’ve got a tuna melt special tonight that comes with my Jerry’s seasoned fries, and we have our Thursday night Betty burger topped with pulled pork, coleslaw, and my special Cajun sauce. And you’re going to want to save room for dessert because Rebecca just baked up some delicious Dutch apple crumb pies that are to die for.”

  Justin’s stomach growled plaintively. He’d skipped lunch in lieu of an oatmeal cookie he’d found in the teacher’s lounge. “What say you, Reverend? My treat,” Justin said with a grin.

  Betty smiled, but kept her eyes to the notebook.

  “It’s not a date, Betty,” Justin reiterated.

  Betty shrugged, then looked at Leslie and grinned. “If I were you I’d order the twelve-ounce steak.”

  Leslie smiled. “Tuna melt for me, with Jerry’s fries. I haven’t had those in a long while. Oh, and may I have a house salad, with ranch dressing on the side?”

  “You bet.” Betty scribbled a few notes and looked at Justin. “How about you, Mr. Reed?”

  He closed the menu and handed it to Betty. “A Betty burger. May I get extra Cajun sauce on the side?”

  “Well, that convinces me you aren’t on a real date.” She grinned. “Coming right up.”

  After she left, Leslie folded her hands on the table and leaned forward with an expectant look. “Have you made a decision about that reunion?”

  She, too, had been haranguing him about attending, but like his Mom, more for resolving his family issues than anything. She had suggested–more than once—that it was best to get things out in the open and to forgive and forget.

  Justin glanced up as Betty brought over two salads, glad to stave off answering Leslie’s question.

  “It’s on the house. You looked a bit pale.” She scooted the salad toward Justin. “Your specials are coming up.” She started to leave and turned on her heel. “I’m sorry, but Reverend, I keep meaning to ask you how many loaves of bread you’ll need for the Easter church supper? Now that I have the bakery next door, we’d love to help you any way we can.”

  Leslie grabbed Betty’s hand and squeezed it. “Betty, you are one of the reasons I love this town. You’re an angel to offer, but are you sure you have time now with two businesses to run?”

  Betty waved her hand dismissively. “It’s no problem. I’ve got a cracker jack team between Rebecca Greyfeather and her granddaughter Emilee, who has been helping after school in the kitchen. And then there’s Clay’s sister, Julie, who has an amazing head for business. I just get to come in and offer new recipes and brainstorm ideas for new products. I’m the one who is blessed with such a crew.” She nudged Leslie’s shoulder. “Why, Julie is even working on a website for the bakery to see if we can drum up some online business.” She gave Leslie a wink. “But helping you out with feeding the folks in this community and at Miss Ellie’s shelter in Billings is my top priority. Besides, we had so many in this town helping out after Jerry’s stroke that it’s our pleasure to give back any way we can.”

  Justin smiled as he listened to Betty. It had been her kindness one fateful Saturday morning years ago that had been powerfully influential--in part--to Justin deciding to return years later to End of the Line. His Uncle Roy used to take him and his brother Jake fly fishing once a year at his cabin on the north Yellowstone River. As was tradition, they’d first stop at Betty’s for a large breakfast and then make a stop at the town’s one and only grocery store to get supplies before heading north. Justin’s love of the area--
his love for the wide-open spaces, the mountains, being able to breathe--hadn’t changed, except that his appreciation had gotten stronger since his youthful days spent on the river, water swirling around his waders as he listened to his uncle’s stories. Not a lover of the outdoors, Jake usually opted for sitting on the front porch with his nose in a book, wondering when they were going to eat. Oddly, it’d been his good friend, Leslie--having moved there to take on her first position at First Church of Christ--who had plugged him into the teaching position when it opened in End of the Line.

  Diving into their food after it arrived, Justin was relieved when the topic turned from him going to Atlanta to gathering volunteers to serve the Easter dinner. He should have known better. Since meeting her in college his freshman year, he’d never known of anyone like his good friend who could juggle so many projects at once and still be abreast of all the tiny details.

  Leslie dabbed her mouth after eating half of her sandwich, sat back, and eyed him. “I’m stuffed. I’ll take the rest home.” She dabbed a napkin to her mouth and snagged his attention. “Now, about that reunion?”

  Speaking of details. Justin took a sip of his water. “I’ve thought about it.”

  “You’ve been doing that the past three months.”

  Justin leveled her a look. “And I’m still thinking about it.” Justin picked off the tomatoes from his burger.

  She smiled. “That sounds like you got another call from your mom.”

  “Maybe,” he said with a shrug. Justin sunk his teeth into the warm pretzel bun and nearly groaned. After the rigors of a busy day, there was nothing quite as calming as Betty’s comfort food. That might require a few extra sit-ups to be added to his daily routine of chores and exercising horses. He’d also stepped in and had been helping out at the Last Hope Ranch, replacing Clay Saunders who was enjoying being at home with his newborn twin girls born this past December.

 

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