Love & Family: Thanksgiving (Holidays In Hallbrook Book 2)

by Elsie Davis

  Love & Family

  Holidays in Hallbrook, Book 2

  Elsie Davis

  © 2019, Elsie Davis

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Cover Design by RockSolidBookDesign.com

  Edited by Cassandra Johnson and Kris Kendall

  Proofread by Alice Shepherd

  This is a work of fiction. A true rescue event inspired this story, but names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.

  Sweet Promise Press

  PO Box 72

  Brighton, MI 48116

  ~This story is dedicated to those who helped inspire it~

  Brody – Stick with being a “golden retriever” and not a “golden chaser.”

  Kalisha - My daughter who came to visit for Thanksgiving (happily I might add) and brought her crazy squirrel-chasing dog.

  Don - My fearless hero husband who navigated the side of the cliff to get to the dog and keep him calm.

  ASH-RAND Rescue Squad and the STALEY Fire Department - Your quick response and expertise was amazing. Many thanks to every one of you!

  Proverbs 10:12

  Hatred stirs up conflict, but love covers all wrongs.

  Contents

  Publisher’s Note

  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

  Epilogue

  What’s Next?

  You May Also Like

  More from Sweet Promise Press

  More from Elsie Davis

  About the Author

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  Chapter One

  Gemma paused in the doorway of her mother’s room, balancing a breakfast tray. It saddened her to see her mom this quiet and distant, the wing-back chair engulfing her petite frame as she sat stoically, staring out the window. It had been this way since Gemma’s stepfather passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack a few months ago.

  Amy Watson was a private person, and she only did this when she thought no one was watching. “Good morning, Mother. I brought tea and some of your favorite sweet treats from Carlyle’s.”

  Her mother glanced up, the smile on her face erasing the shadow of sadness. “Good morning, dear. You didn’t have to stop there. I’ve been eating far too many of Maggie’s treats lately.”

  “They’re as much for me as they are for you. Her pastries are the best in Syracuse as far as I’m concerned.” Gemma shot her mother a conspiratorial grin. “It gives me the excuse I need to indulge.”

  “Like you need an excuse. You’re thin and active and could eat as many as you want and never gain an ounce.”

  “Let’s hope it stays that way. So why are you sitting up here and staring out the window again? I know something’s bothering you, and I wish you’d tell me what’s going on in your head.”

  Gemma had tried talking to her mother on several occasions but to no avail. She’d keep trying until this stage of indecision and grief passed. At forty-five, her mother was too young to hide out in her room and avoid life.

  “Just thinking.” Her mother took the cup of tea from her. “Thank you, dear. Your visit is a pleasant surprise.”

  “Don’t try to change the subject. What are you thinking about?” she persisted. Gemma placed the pastries on the side table, grabbed one, and took a seat on the bed.

  Her mother’s hands twisted together in her lap. She shook her head. “It’s complicated and Mark’s death…Well, I’m just trying to understand.”

  It was the first time her mother showed a glimpse of opening up, and Gemma needed to tread carefully if she wanted her to continue. “Understand what?”

  There was a long pause of silence before she answered. “My life.” Her mother let out a deep breath.

  “I’m not sure I understand.” Gemma smiled, encouraging her mom to say more.

  “Do you think I made Mark happy?”

  “Of course.” Talk about a bomb out of nowhere. “Why would you even ask such a thing?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just that we seemed so sedentary the past twelve years. And now, he’s gone, and I’m not sure what’s left of that life.”

  “You were sedentary because Mark enjoyed a quiet, organized existence. He loved accounting, and he loved you. He was able to enjoy both all day. I know he always had a ready smile for you, even when you weren’t watching, so yeah, I’d say you made him happy.”

  “Good. That’s good.” It was a strange answer and one that worried Gemma.

  “Mom, what’s going on?”

  Her mother shrugged as she started to lift her hands before dropping them back in her lap. “It’s just with him gone, I want to know I did right by marrying him. That I made his life better.”

  “You know you made his world brighter. Why are you second-guessing everything? Now of all times.” Gemma pulled one knee up on the bed to get more comfortable.

  “I’ve agreed to sell Mark’s half of the accounting firm to Anthony. As Mark’s assistant, there’s nothing for me to do now, and his clients needed to be transferred to someone else. Anthony is going to bring another partner into the business to handle the client overload.”

  “I think that was a smart move. I’m not sure your dream job was to be an accounting assistant. What do you want to do now?” She took a sip of tea, keeping a close eye on her mother, trying to get a feel for what to say, how to help.

  “I don’t know. I’ve always had to worry about others. Mark’s gone, and you’re all grown up and quite self-sufficient. This is the first time no one needs me, and I’m at a loss of what to do next.” Her mother gazed out the window again
.

  “Then take the time to find out. Get out of the house. Go places. Go to church. Meet people. And for the record, I’ll always need you.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart.” She turned back to Gemma and smiled. “You’re a compassionate young woman, and I’m lucky to have you as my daughter.”

  “Even luckier, since I’m here this weekend to help you clean out this room and not the other way around. Call it payback time.” Somewhere along the way from child to adult, Gemma had decided she preferred a clean room, and after years of her mother having to pick up after her, she was determined to help.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  Yes, she did. “You sit right there, and all you have to do is tell me which box to put Mark’s things in. Then, I’ll haul the stuff up to the attic, to a charity, or wherever else you want his belongings to go.”

  “It doesn’t seem right, but if you insist. The idea of sitting here and sipping my tea sounds far more appealing.”

  Gemma grabbed the boxes in the corner and placed them on the bed. She emptied Mark’s side of the dresser, putting all his clothes in a box she marked as donations.

  “What would you say if I told you I wanted to go away for a week or so?”

  Gemma paused mid-way from the dresser to the box, surprised and excited her mother had considered a getaway of such magnitude.

  “I was thinking of stopping by Mark’s mother’s house and dropping off some of his personal belongings and to check in on her. After that, I might head to Colorado Springs for a getaway.”

  “It sounds perfect and exactly what you need. What a wonderful idea.” Gemma’s smile was one of pure happiness, knowing her mother would be all right. This was just the beginning.

  “I’d be home for Thanksgiving, of course. I would never leave you here alone and without family during a holiday.”

  “Mom, I’d be fine. I know how to cook, even if it’s just for one.” How hard could cooking a turkey be? And think of the leftovers she could put in her freezer for loads of easy meals. With the dresser empty, Gemma started in on the clothes hanging in the closet.

  “Still, I’d prefer to be here.”

  “Whatever you want. What will you do in Colorado Springs?” She dropped the first load of clothes on the bed and removed the hangers, folding the suits into a neat pile and placing them in the donation box.

  “There’s a meditational spa resort there. I saw it on the internet the other day, and it sounds heavenly. It’ll be the perfect place for me to relax and figure out what I want to do next with my life.”

  “Hey, you could always work with me as an event planner. You have lots of amazing ideas. But the resort sounds enjoyable, and I think you should do it.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’m sure you don’t need me underfoot. Not to mention, the ideas are only part of what you do. It’s a lot more complicated than what I want at this stage of my life.”

  Her mother continued to talk about the resort while Gemma finished the clothes.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to help? This doesn’t seem right.” Her mother started to get up.

  “No. I’ve got it. Not much left anyway, and then we can call to have someone come pick the stuff up. Have another pastry and enjoy letting someone else do the work.”

  Gemma pulled a huge box down off the top shelf of the closet. It was heavy enough she set it on the floor and started to empty stuff off the top to lighten the load. Halfway down, she found a photo album with her name written on the front.

  It was an album she’d never seen before. She opened the cover and froze. Her eyes teared up as she pieced together what she was seeing. Page after page, there were newspaper clippings of a bull rider. Chad Andrews.

  The Bullbuster.

  Her father? It couldn’t be true. There had to be some other explanation. For years, she’d wanted to know who he was, but would never ask the question. Not after the first time.

  Once had been enough.

  She remembered the day as if it were yesterday. She’d come home from school crying after some of the other girls taunted her about not having a father, and she’d asked her mom why she didn’t have a daddy. Her mother’s answer still echoed in her head. Your daddy was too foolish to realize what a priceless gem you would be, and he left. But I will always love you, sweet Gemma

  At five years old, the message she’d gotten was that her daddy didn’t want or love her. And the message stuck. She realized now she must have caught her mother in a weak moment, because other than that once, she’d never heard another word about her father. Until now. Gemma’s hands shook as she took a deep breath, trying to regain control of her emotions.

  Never in her wildest dreams would she have guessed Chad Andrews, legendary professional bull rider, would turn out to be her father. She knew of him, who didn’t? He’d hailed from Hallbrook, New Hampshire, a small town about fifteen minutes north of where she and her mother used to live in Glen Haven.

  Gemma remembered the last time they attended a PBR rodeo event in Concord. She was ten, and they’d watched as the Bullbuster hung on to a beast of a bull for eight seconds, much to the delight of the crowd cheering on their local favorite. He’d gone on to win the event, but it was the first, last, and only time Gemma had seen him in person.

  Her father.

  “You okay in there?” her mother called out, concern in her voice.

  It was time to find out the truth. Gemma stepped out of the closet, clutching the photo album to her chest. “Who is he?” Her voice squeaked as she asked the question.

  Her mother’s hand froze in midair, and she started to rise, setting the cup of tea down as she did. “Gemma, I’m sorry. That’s not how I wanted you to find out.” She held her hand to her chest, anguish etched on her face.

  “So, it’s true. He’s my father?” Gemma waited for the words to confirm what she already knew in her heart.

  “Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But you never asked, and I figured you didn’t want to know. I thought you would talk to me about it when you were ready. I should have remembered the album was in there. I’m so sorry.”

  “Why do you have this album? And why did you stop adding to it? I can’t believe this.” Gemma sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “I made it for you, knowing one day you might want to know about him. I stopped when I married Mark because it seemed wrong to continue.” Her mother touched her arm, her lily-of-the-valley fragrance surrounding Gemma like a cloak.

  Gemma closed her eyes, desperate to calm the pounding in her head, as she tried to focus. “So, what happened? And for the record, I did ask once. You told me he left because he was too foolish to stay and realize what he had with us. Is this what he left for?” She held up the album. “The rodeo?”

  “Oh, dear. I shouldn’t have said that to you. You couldn’t have been more than five at the time, and I was still upset. Things were tough back then, but it was wrong of me to say those things. I’d hoped you’d forgotten. To answer your question, yes, he left for the rodeo. But it worked out for the best the way it did, didn’t it?” Her mother’s brow was drawn tight with lines of worry.

  “If you say so.” Not exactly how Gemma would describe her childhood. Best would have been having her father around the way other kids did.

  “You liked Mark, didn’t you?” Insecurity echoed in her mother’s voice.

  “We didn’t have much in common, but he was fine. Nothing not to like.” There was no sense in hurting her mother. Mark was okay, he just wasn’t her real father. Not that Gemma had ever given him the chance to be one.

  She’d been too stubborn to open her heart, preferring to swallow the bitter pill of rejection by her father, all by herself. The only person she’d ever really talked to was Katie, her friend back in Glen Haven. But even then, Katie couldn’t understand. After all, she had a mother and a father.

  Gemma had thought she’d put it all behind her but finding out who her father was opened old wounds. “Maybe
we should take a break for now. This is a lot to absorb. Please don’t get upset, but I think I’ll go to my old bedroom for a bit. I need some space to take this all in. I’ll finish up later.”

  Her mother wrapped her arms around her, holding Gemma close. “I understand. I’m here if you have any questions. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”

  “It’s not your fault, Mom. I should have asked more about him sooner.” Gemma pulled back, anxious to be alone and to check out the album.

  Walking into her old room, she stopped, taking in all the childhood memories that assailed her whenever she visited. Her mom had never gotten around to changing it after she left. Her oversized stuffed panda bear still lay on the bed, along with countless posters she’d taped to the walls over the years. All her softball awards still hung on the walls, her trophies on the dresser.

  Softball had been her place to excel, a place to learn confidence, and a place where not having her own father to celebrate the joy of success and the misery of defeat didn’t matter quite as much. Because on the team, every dad out there with his own daughter was also Gemma’s staunch supporter. As the league’s number one shortstop, and with the second-highest RBI average, Gemma had commanded lots of fatherly attention.

  Chalk one up to Chad Andrews. She’d clearly gotten her athleticism from him.