Loving From Afar: The Women of Independence, #1

THE WOMEN OF INDEPENDENCE

BOOK ONE

Loving From Afar

by

Mona Ingram

Copyright © 2013 Mona Ingram

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locations is entirely coincidental.

Author’s Note:

The procedures and penalties of the Criminal Justice System of British Columbia as described herein have been fictionalized to facilitate the story line.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Epilogue

Prologue

ALLISON STOOD BACK as her friend finished mounting the fan and plugged it in. Air swept gently over the seedlings, and she smiled at the satisfied look on Dani’s face.

Much better, said Dani, as she slipped her hammer into the leather tool belt slung around her slender hips. That’ll help to vent the place. She poked at the double layer of poly that covered the domed greenhouse. It’s a great setup.

Thanks to you. Allison gave her a wry smile. You know, it’s been years, and I still can’t believe you’re a successful contractor. What did you say you have lined up for your next project?

Mr. And Mrs. Berkshire’s sunroom. They’ve asked me to tear off the old one and build them a snazzy new one. She adjusted the angle of the fan and watched closely as it swept back for forth several times. I’m looking forward to it. Did you say the airflow from the fan is actually good for the seedlings?

Allison was accustomed to her friend’s abrupt changes of subject. Yes. She wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. The air strengthens them while moderating the temperature. She tugged on a pulley at the end of the greenhouse and opened a 2’x2’ flap on the end wall. The vents had been Danielle’s idea when she put the structure together. She’d installed one vent at each end to catch the gentle breezes that swept through the valley.

The Berkshires. They’re Timothy’s parents, aren’t they?

That’s right. Really nice people.

Did you ask them about Timothy? Allison forced herself to look her friend in the eye. About where he is now?

I didn’t have to ask. They were eager to tell me all about him. He’s in Vancouver and doing well. He works for a company down there that provides services to the television and film industries. Apparently, he scouts locations and stuff like that.

Huh. Allison picked up a handful of potting soil and closed her fist around it. In the heat of the greenhouse, the Pro Mix dried out quickly. She’d have to dampen it down again before she did any more transplanting. She raised her head. Back in high school, was I the only one who didn’t know that Timothy was gay?

Dani lifted her shoulders. I can’t honestly say that I knew, either. He didn’t come out or anything. She raised an eyebrow. Cole never said anything?

Allison shook her head. Nope. There was a catch in her throat. I thought we shared everything.

Guys are different about stuff like that. Anyway, it was what...ten, eleven years ago? People weren’t so open. She turned thoughtful. Timothy was lucky that Cole befriended him. He needed all the protection he could get. I think the other kids sensed he was different, even if he never confirmed it.

A sad smile twisted Allison’s lips. Cole was like that. Always sticking up for the underdog.

Danielle paused, and took a deep breath. He’s back, you know.

Allison’s head came up sharply. Timothy?

No. Cole.

For a moment, Allison couldn’t catch her breath. She staggered back, gripping the edge of the seeding bed for support. And just how long were you going to wait to tell me?

Danielle grinned. I’m telling you now. Her smile faltered. I hear his father’s been ill.

Why haven’t I heard that? Allison frowned.

Danielle took a deep breath, then let it out, obviously frustrated. Because you hide yourself out here? Because you have no social life? Just the other day, Faith was saying she hasn’t seen you in over a month.

What about you? When was the last time you were out on a date?

Oh, no you don’t. Dani’s eyes flashed. This isn’t about me. And don’t tell me that going out with Mark counts as a date. He’s a nice guy and everything, but you two are just propping each other up.

No fair! I–

Dani shook her finger. You shouldn’t tell me these things if you don’t want them to come back at you. She looked at her watch. I have to go. She walked out the wide greenhouse door and looked at the long, straight rows of black plastic, ready to receive the seedlings. She turned slowly to look at her friend. He looks hot, Al. I scarcely recognized him.

Allison closed her eyes and let her head fall back. The sweep of air from the fan cooled her momentarily, but it would take more than a fan to cool down what she still felt for Cole Slater.

Dani’s tone was gentle when she spoke again. They’d known each other too long; had helped each other survive too many emotional train wrecks. I thought I’d better warn you, she said softly, then climbed into her pickup truck and headed up the long driveway to the road that ran along the high side of the valley.

COLE FOUND HIMSELF on the twisting road that led through Hidden Valley. The road surface was lumpy and badly patched, much as it had been when he was a teenager. The difference was that his bike was bigger now, and it took the twists and turns with ease.

He knew that Allison had bought a place out here, but he wasn’t ready to see her yet...if ever. She was growing flowers, of all things. Flowers for drying. Evidently she made them into bouquets and sold them all over the Okanagan. He told himself he wasn’t looking for her place, but even so, he noticed the sign by her driveway as he roared past. It wasn’t large, as signs went, but it didn’t need to be, considering that she didn’t encourage visits from the public. It read The Flower Farm. He caught a glimpse of rows of black plastic as he passed, and smiled to himself. It was difficult to picture Allison farming...even if it was flowers. As far as he could remember... and he remembered everything... she’d never shown any interest in gardening. But that was all so long ago...

Lost in memories, he found himself at Green Lake in no time at all. He and Allison had come out here a lot when they were young. The numerous beaches along Okanagan Lake were a magnet for tourists as well as the locals, and as a result, they generally had Green Lake to themselves.

He parked the bike and squeezed through the turnstile gate, heading for what he still thought of as their spot. Ponderosa pines offered shade, and the sweet scent of resin filled his nostrils. Dried pine needles crackled underfoot and memories engulfed him. He sat down at the edge of the steep hill leading down to the lake, and took it all in. Very little had changed since the last time he was here. The place was silent, except for some intermittent birdsong. He braced his arms on raised knees and lowered his head. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on those days. His father was dying, and he needed to keep himself strong for the ordeal that lay ahead.

So why had he come here, where memories of his time with Allison were the strongest? Why was he torturing himself, wondering what might have been?

The answer was obvious, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He’d never gotten over her. Never gotten over the shock of what had happened. Cole had driven home, told his dad that he was leaving, and taken off like a bat out of hell. Taken off to make a new life for himself; a life where he controlled the outcome, a life where he wouldn’t have his heart ripped to shreds by a woman.

The distinctive chatter of a Kingfisher brought his head up. He searched the trees along the edge of the lake but couldn’t spot it. It didn’t matter; just knowing the bird was there was comforting. It meant that there were still fish in the lake. Some things, at least, had stayed the same.

He’d loved growing up here in Independence. The other guys his age had talked constantly about getting out, about going to a larger town, but he’d been content. His mother had died when he was young; he scarcely remembered her. His dad had lived by the Golden Rule and expected him to do the same. It had seemed corny at the time; corny and old fashioned, but as Cole grew older, he’d come to appreciate his father’s values.

They’d lived in a small mobile home park that was tucked into one of the narrow valleys that ran roughly parallel to the lake. There’d been those few months right after his mother died, when his father hadn’t known what to do, but other than that, Marty Slater had done a great job of raising him.

His father had smoked all his life, and it was catching up with him now. Since he’d left home, he’d managed to see his father a couple of times a year. His father, along with his lady friend Marnie, usually visited him on Vancouver Island, where Cole ran a successful business. He’d seen them just a few months ago, and his father had appeared in good health, but when Marnie called him two days ago, he’d come running, and was shocked at his dad’s appearance. These days, Marty Slater spent most of his time in a big recliner facing the television; Cole could tell by the items on the two tables that flanked the chair. Books, remote controls, cell phone, tissues, and pain pills painted a picture of someone very ill; someone who was too weak to move around. Cole wondered idly if the doctor would give him an estimate of how much longer. Probably not.

Jesus, he said aloud, and dropped his head again. It was almost too much to take in. He’d always been aware that his father flirted with lung cancer every time he lit up, but he was still in his fifties; it was too soon for him to die. He wondered if Allison knew.

He pushed himself to his feet. Damn her for creeping into his thoughts at a time like this! But then whose fault was that? He’d been an idiot to think that by coming here, where they’d shared so much, he could face up to the past and get her out of his system. This was where they’d dreamed of a future together and every thought led him back to that time.

A loon warbled on the lake, but he didn’t look. He had to get going, get away from this memory-laden place. Besides, the community nurse was coming to check on his father right after lunch, and he wanted to be there when she arrived. The nurse might be more forthcoming about his dad’s prognosis than the doctor.

Reflection from the black plastic caught his eye as he rounded a corner. He knew the road well, and this was where he’d seen Allison’s sign.

He slowed his bike, knowing he shouldn’t, but something compelled him. He tore off his helmet, braced his feet on the loose gravel at the top of her driveway, and looked down at her place.

Movement in the greenhouse drew his eye, and a woman emerged. At first he wasn’t sure. The woman was about the right age, but there was something different about her; about the way she carried herself. The bright aura that had always surrounded Allison was missing from this woman. And yet... there was something achingly familiar about her.

The woman raised a hand, as though to wave at him... or was that wishful thinking? She fussed with her hair, then shaded her eyes and looked directly at him. And then he knew. This was Allison. The bond they’d developed a decade ago still pulsed between them. He could see it in her eyes, even from this far away, and it scared the hell out of him. They stared at each other for a long, intense minute. Then he replaced his helmet, started the bike and drove off.

ALLISON INVARIABLY looked up when she heard a motorcycle. Some people, like her friend Faith, looked to the sky when they heard an airplane; with Allison it was motorcycles. She pretended she didn’t know why she looked, but she wasn’t kidding anyone, especially herself. Cole had bought a motorcycle as soon as he was old enough to get a permit, and ever since, the sound made her heart leap into her throat; made her pulse speed up a little. Her reaction had mellowed over the years, but it was still there, springing to life every time she heard that distinctive sound. She’d always believed that he would come back one day, even though things could never be the same. Too much time had passed for that, but she still hoped.

The motorcycle had stopped at the top of her driveway. The driver braced himself, removed his helmet and looked down at her, but made no sign of recognition. He didn’t need to; she knew it was Cole. She raised a hand to wave, then caught herself just in time and raked her fingers though her hair. If she waved and he rejected her now, her heart would break.

She shaded her eyes and stared at him, willing him to come down the driveway and say hello. The longing to see him again, to hear his voice, to feel his touch, was almost more than she could bear. She knew he’d been to Green Lake. It had been their spot to go and talk; the fact that he’d gone there must count for something.

Or not. He drove away and she dropped her hand, defeated. It was clear from the way he’d looked at her that he still found her repulsive. Tears burned behind her eyes. How could she have allowed herself to think that he might still feel something for her? She tossed her gloves onto the potting table in the greenhouse, grabbed a clean rag from the box by the door and headed for the creek that ran through her property.

Jones Creek meandered down the bottom of the valley, through town, and eventually emptied into Okanagan Lake. Home to trout, muskrat, a few mink, and duck families in spring, there was always something to see along the creek’s edge. She headed for one of the old chairs set up under the willows and used the rag to wipe away bird droppings and leaves. Over the years, it had become her favourite spot on the property, and at this moment, she needed the calming influence of the burbling water and the soft sway of the willow leaves more than ever. Seeing Cole had stirred up too many old emotions, both good and bad. Memories that seemed like they’d happened only yesterday...

Chapter One

NOVEMBER, TWELVE YEARS ago

Allison, aren’t you ready yet? Katherine Ransome called up the stairs to her daughter. They’re lighting the tree at eight, and it’s already seven fifteen.

I know, Mom. Allison came running down the stairs. She hated the way her hair looked under the toque that her mother insisted she wear. Okay, it was going to be cold tonight, but she’d look like such a loser. She bet Dani’s grandmother wouldn’t force her to wear a toque. She pulled on her boots, her coat and scarf, and headed outside, where her father was warming up the car.

The town of Independence always scheduled their Light Up ceremony on the last Friday in November. Many years ago, the city fathers had shown a great deal of foresight and planted a fir tree in the town square. Situated squarely in front of City Hall, it was visible from every side of the square, and had become a favourite meeting place. Meet you at the Christmas tree, was a phrase often heard between the residents of Independence.

The car tires scrunched on the fresh snow as Allison’s father backed out.

Wait, she called. Our toys for the toy drive. Did we bring them?

Yes, they’re in the trunk. Allison’s father smiled at her in the rear-view mirror. Anxious to see Santa, are you?

Allison rolled her eyes at her father. No, but I hear the new fireman is kind of hunky.

Allison! Her mother turned part way around in her seat. He’s far too old for you, and you know it. When she saw the expression on her daughter’s face she turned to her husband, pretending to be angry. Don, your daughter is trying to give me a heart attack. She’s incorrigible, but then I always said she takes after you.

Stop teasing your mother. Allison’s father gave her a wink in the mirror. Stick to guys your own age.

What about Lindsey? She’s going out with an older man.

That’s not the same, and you know it. Dennis is only two years older than your sister, and besides, she’s twenty-two. You’re only fifteen.

Allison didn’t know why she’d opened that can of worms. They could discuss it a million times and Lindsey would still be seven years older. She loved her sister, but they had very little in common.

Her father turned into the parking lot. Oh, look, said Allison. They have the air cadets directing traffic.

Good idea, her father pulled into a space. It was a mess last year when the Rotarians tried to do it.

Now, Don. Her mother reached across and patted him on the knee. You know they do their best.

Her father muttered something under his breath, but Allison was already looking for Dani. They’d promised to meet near the concession stands, and the area was already swarming with people. She jumped out of the car as soon as her father had parked.

Nine thirty. Her mother tapped her watch. Remember, now. We’re counting on you to find us. Tammy has invited us to stop by her shop and get warm around nine, so look for us there.

I know, Mom. You already told me. Her mother had been having her hair done at Tammy’s Cut ‘N’ Curl for as long as Allison could remember. The woman believed in paying it forward, and every year at graduation, she quietly arranged to do the hair of any high school student who couldn’t afford to pay. She’d never once disclosed their names.

The downtown area was almost dark in anticipation of Light Up, but Allison found Danielle breathing warm air into her gloved hands and stomping her feet. It’s so cold, her friend said impatiently. Come on, let’s get some hot chocolate. She looked over Allison’s shoulder and her eyes widened. Don’t look now, but guess who’s here?

Gee, like half the town? Allison made a face. How am I supposed to guess? Oh, wait. Don’t tell me. It’s Jason, right? That new guy? She turned around to look and Dani tried to pinch her through her coat.

I said don’t look! She glared at her friend. Okay, tell you what. You go and get the hot chocolate and I’ll talk to him. She put on her most angelic face. After all, someone has to make him feel welcome.

Allison groaned. And that would be you, right? Okay, go ahead, but stay where I can see you. The Kinsmen had a stand selling hot chocolate, and she got in line.

Steam rose out of the small drinking holes in the