by Kay Correll
A Time to Forgive
Kay Correll
Rose Quartz Press
Copyright © 2019 Kay Correll
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any matter without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental
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Published by Rose Quartz Press
041119
This book is dedicated to my husband and sons. For their unwavering support. For the spontaneous parties they throw to celebrate my successes. For being by my side during the tough times. I’m the luckiest wife and mother in the world. I love you all so much.
Let’s go singing in the rain…
Kay’s Books
Find more information on all my books at my website.
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COMFORT CROSSING ~ THE SERIES
The Shop on Main - Book One
The Memory Box - Book Two
The Christmas Cottage - A Holiday Novella (Book 2.5)
The Letter - Book Three
The Christmas Scarf - A Holiday Novella (Book 3.5)
The Magnolia Cafe - Book Four
The Unexpected Wedding - Book Five
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The Wedding in the Grove - (a crossover short story between the Comfort Crossing and Lighthouse Point series - with Josephine and Paul from The Letter.)
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LIGHTHOUSE POINT ~ THE SERIES
Wish Upon a Shell - Book One
Wedding on the Beach - Book Two
Love at the Lighthouse - Book Three
Cottage Near the Point - Book Four
Return to the Island - Book Five
Bungalow by the Bay - Book Six
Click here to learn more about the series.
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SWEET RIVER ~ THE SERIES
A Dream to Believe in - Book One
A Memory to Cherish - Book Two
A Song to Remember - Book Three
A Time to Forgive - Book Four
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INDIGO BAY ~ A multi-author sweet romance series
Sweet Sunrise - Book Three
Sweet Holiday Memories - A short holiday story
Sweet Starlight - Book Nine
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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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Also by Kay Correll
About the Author
Chapter 1
Bree Stuart paused with her hand on the worn door handle to her parents’ cabin on Lone Elk Lake. Her hand trembled slightly, and her pulse thrummed through her veins. Twenty years since she’d walked through this door. She briefly considered turning around, jumping into her car, and driving back to Austin to her safe little house. Though when she reminded herself the drive had taken over fifteen hours, she wasn’t that anxious to leap back on the road.
She quickly realized she hadn’t grabbed the cabin key from her car—of course, that hadn’t been on purpose—and crossed back to her ten-year-old functional red sedan to snatch the key out of the console between the seats. It had taken her forever to find the stupid key back at her home. She’d finally found it stashed in the bottom of her jewelry box, in an envelope with a silver bracelet and deliberately forgotten memories.
Bree closed the car door and glanced at the faded sign by the front door of the cabin. Stuart Chateau, a particularly grandiose name for a quiet lake cabin. The small wooden sign had hung by the front door for over thirty years. She ran her fingers across the faded lettering, and bittersweet memories bubbled up and threatened to rise to the surface. Something she just couldn’t allow.
She crossed to the front door, momentarily praying her parents had changed the locks so she would have an excuse to turn around and drive home. No such luck. The key turned easily in the lock, and the door jerked open with her not-so-gentle push, almost causing her to tumble into the cabin. Her heart beat a double-time rhythm, and she drew in a deep breath of courage. She stepped over the threshold and had to grab ahold of the doorway to steady herself.
The cabin looked the same. For some reason, she’d thought it would look different now. It had been twenty years since she’d last crossed that threshold, since she’d walked those floors, looked out the windows at the views. Twenty years since she’d talked and laughed and shared meals with family and friends. She looked around the great room and across to the doors on the far wall with an expansive view of the lake. The old sliding doors had been replaced with French doors. That was new. The entire lakeside of the house opened up to a wide, come-have-a-party deck.
The smell of old furniture and closed-up house mixed in with the familiar smell of... what? She didn’t know. But to her, it would always be the cabin scent. She swore she could smell it in her dreams... and her nightmares.
She pushed away the memories and reminded herself why she was here. She’d always been the responsible sister, the one who did what needed to be done. Well, except for the one thing her parents had always wanted from her and she’d never been able to give them. She regretted that, but she’d done the best she could. Some things just couldn’t be forgotten.
Bree looked around the cabin, trying to convince herself to actually step inside. Why was she the one who had to do this? Maybe they could just hire someone to fix up the place to get it ready to sell. Her sisters hadn’t even thought about all Bree was doing as the executor of their parents’ will. She was the only sister who’d thought to check on the cabin before they put it on the market to see what needed to be done to get it ready. She wasn’t sure if her sisters ever went to the lake anymore.
She pushed her shoulders back and determinedly crossed into the depths of the cabin, fighting her urge to run. The kitchen was in the corner of the great room, with a bar-height counter separating it from the rest of the open area of the main level of the cabin. A trio of bar stools with floral cushions nestled under the counter. A loft grazed the top of the vaulted ceiling. Memories flitted around her of the many nights sleeping up there as a child, whispering and giggling with her sisters until their mother insisted they go to sleep. The girls had bedrooms, but many nights, when they were younger, they preferred to sleep up in the loft together. She could almost hear the echoes of muffled voices, threatening to dance alive in her memories, but she flattened them dead.
Bree crossed to the kitchen and dropped her purse on the counter. She noticed, with a smile, her mom had finally replaced the stove top with the two cranky burners that, at any given moment, no one ever knew if they’d work.
She walked over and ran her hand over the worn wooden table in the dining area, tracing the grain of the oak top. Even though it was chilly, she threw open a set of the French doors to the deck to try and get some fresh air
into the place.
The cabin was at the end of Lone Elk Lake where it arched around to form a small, peaceful cove. The banks were lined with pine trees and rocks. She stared out at the view, mesmerized. The cool air rushed over her, and she drew in a cleansing breath of the crisp, pine-scented breeze.
She crossed over to the faded floral sofa and dropped down onto it, propping her feet on the old trunk of her grandma’s they’d used for a coffee table.
The place felt so like home, and yet so foreign. She’d spent so many of her summers and weekends there as a young girl. Then when she’d gotten to college age, she started working summer jobs in Sweet River Falls, driving down from college at Boulder to live at the summer cabin and work at a variety of summer jobs. She and her sisters, Abby and Cece, had run with the same crowd of friends, summer after summer. Until the year Bree turned twenty and her world had fallen apart.
Well, that was the first time her world had fallen apart. The second time it had crashed was three years ago when her husband left her. He just hadn’t wanted to be married to her anymore. Didn’t love her. Wanted out. It had turned out what he did want was a woman ten years younger than Bree with pouty lips and long blonde hair. And then a series of young women. There was no changing it now. She drew in a quick breath, fighting off the rising anger.
Then there was this last time her world disintegrated into tiny broken pieces, the one that just about broke her completely. She was still numb from this last one, and it had been almost a year.
And if the universe hadn’t been cruel enough to her, six months ago, her parents had died in a car accident. Her heart ached with all the losses in her life, the regrets, and the dashed hopes. She wasn’t sure she knew how to feel anymore. Life had taught her to shut down to protect herself. She’d raised shutting off her emotions to an art form.
A breeze drifted in through the open doors—a soothing breeze if she were just able to be soothed these days. Something she’d almost decided would never happen again. She had so much anger and resentment boiling inside, tucked safely away under the pretense of no feelings. No talking to a therapist or any amount of rational thinking had been able to change the fact. She’d turned into a bitter woman she barely recognized and didn’t like much these days.
Being at the lake cabin wasn’t going to help one tiny little bit. At all. It was just going to smack her in the face with the memory of when her life all started down the slippery slope that led... right back to the lake cabin, she guessed. She let out a long, drawn-out sigh.
She needed to get to work. Still, she just sat and stared out at the cove.
A brisk knock at the door startled her from her reverie. Who could that be? No one even knew she was here. She thought about ignoring it, but it was obvious she was here, with her car parked smack in the middle of the driveway. She pushed up off the couch and went to tug the door open, making a mental note to oil the hinges so it opened without wrenching out her shoulder. She was sure a door that fought back wasn’t the best first impression for anyone wanting to buy the cabin.
The door yanked open, and there, filling the doorway with his energy and smile, was Jason Cassidy. Looking older, with the tiniest touch of gray at the temples and scattered through his dark brown hair. His face was weathered now, but the unmistakable sparkle in his chestnut brown eyes was still there.
“Breester!” He swept her up in a no-questions-asked hug, as if sure she would welcome it.
And she did. He wrapped her in acceptance and happiness and the comfortable feeling of an old, cherished quilt. It felt foreign and delicious. Even if she’d deserted him for years, with rare Christmas cards and even rarer phone calls.
Breester. His pet name for her. She’d almost forgotten all about it. He’d given it to her when she’d complained that her sisters both had nicknames. Cecelia was nicknamed Cece, and Abigail was usually called Abby. But how did one shorten Bree? She still remembered him laughing and telling her he’d lengthen her name to Breester. It sounded so good and welcoming and familiar coming from his rumbling deep voice.
Names and nicknames were funny things. She’d always been slightly annoyed when everyone called the sisters the ABC girls—Abby, Bree, and Cece.
“Jason. You’re looking good.” She pushed away slightly as he set her back down.
“I drove by and saw the car and thought I’d check and see who was here.”
“It’s just me.”
“I was sorry to hear about your parents. That’s really tough, huh?”
“Yes, it is.” Her voice was low and suddenly choked with emotions she thought she’d finally been able to shove away. Evidently not.
“You just here to get away for a bit?”
He totally ignored the fact that he knew darn well she hadn’t been here in twenty years.
“No, I’m going to get the cabin ready to put on the market.”
“No. You girls are selling it?” His eyes questioned her, asking her more than what he actually voiced.
“Well, I can’t afford the cabin and my house in Austin. Cece doesn’t have the money for it either, and Abby has no interest in it. So we’re going to sell it.”
“That’s too bad. Kind of an end to an era.”
“I guess. One I’m ready to end.” She shoved her hair back from her face, the brown curls tumbling rebelliously right back to bug her. “I need to see if I can get it ready to put on the market. Make sure everything is in working order. See if I can touch up the painting and do little stuff that makes it look more inviting.”
“Wow. I can’t believe you’re selling it. It will seem so...wrong... having someone else own the place. Guess we’ll have to rename it something other than Stuart Chateau, too.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Her voice choked. Maybe this was going to be harder to part with than she thought.
She read the empathy in his warm brown eyes. He’d always been able to figure her out, usually before she had herself figured out.
“I’ve missed you, Bree.” He reached out and touched her arm.
“I know. I missed you too. I just couldn’t...”
“I understand. I had hoped that over time, you’d work it all out and come back.” He lounged against the doorframe.
She shook her head. “Some things just can’t be forgotten... or forgiven.”
“That’s too bad. I hoped... Well, never mind. Let’s not talk about the past.” A grin slanted across his tanned features. “Let’s talk about dinner. Tonight. Over at the lodge. My treat.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Jase.”
“Come on, Mom would love to see you. Six o’clock?”
She gave in. She’d never been able to resist his smile. He’d been one of her closest friends for twelve years of her childhood. From the year she turned eight and her parents bought the cabin until the year she turned twenty. His Mom owned Sweet River Lodge just over the hill on the main part of the lake. There had been a worn trail over the hill when she’d been younger. She doubted a pathway even existed anymore.
“Okay, I’ll be over at six.”
Jason flashed a cocky grin like he’d known he’d win her over. “That’s great. I’ll tell Mom. She’ll be so excited.”
“Guess the path is gone and I’ll need to drive around, huh?”
“Nope. The path is still there. I keep it trimmed up. I always hoped you girls would come back and use it someday. Besides, the guests at the lodge like to climb to the top of the hill for the view of the lake. We have a gazebo up on top now.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll walk over there then. Just like old times.”
“It will be great to look up and see you coming down the hill again. I’ve missed that.” He gave her another quick hug and crossed over to his truck. “Don’t stand me up, Breester.”
“I’ll be there, I promise.” She waved to him while he climbed into his old blue pickup truck and it ground to life. He pulled out of the driveway with a spray of loose gravel and a quick wave of his hand.
“Mom,
you here?” Jason walked into his mother’s cabin at Sweet River Lodge.
Nora Cassidy came walking out of the laundry room, carrying a basket of neatly folded clothes. “Right here.”
“I have a surprise. Guess who’s coming to dinner at the lodge tonight?”
His mother smiled and shifted the basket to her hip. “No clue.”
“Bree Stuart.”
His mother’s eyes widened. “Really? We haven’t seen her in... well, I don’t know how long it’s been. Fifteen? Twenty years? Is she back at the cabin?”
“She is.” Jason reached for the basket. “Here, I’ll put this back in your bedroom.”
He returned to find his mother in the kitchen. She held up a mug. “Coffee?”
“I always have time for a quick one.” He took the offered mug and a sip of the delicious brew made from locally roasted coffee beans.
“So, she finally came back for a visit, huh?” Nora grabbed a mug of coffee for herself and leaned against the counter.
“Not really. She said they were getting ready to sell the place.”
“I’d heard her parents died. So unexpectedly, that’s sad. I guess the girls don’t want the cabin?”
“I don’t think any of them can afford the upkeep on their own and, well, she said it just made sense to sell it.”
