Returning Home Read online

  Returning Home

  A Freedom Lake Novel

  Toni Shiloh

  Published by Toni Shiloh, 2017.

  Copyright © 2017 by Toni Shiloh.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning or other—for brief quotations embodied in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Scripture taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

  Edited by Peri Bever. Proofread by Carrie Schmidt.

  Cover design by Toni Shiloh.

  Cover art photos © iStock.com/PeopleImages used by permission.

  Published in the United States of America by Toni Shiloh.

  www.ToniShiloh.wordpress.com

  Returning Home is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To the Author and Finisher of my faith.

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  More Books by Toni Shiloh

  Prologue

  Evan Carter stared at his girlfriend, admiring her beauty. Brenda’s pixie haircut framed her pretty face and a soft smile graced her lips. She wore charm and gentleness like a cloak as she gracefully changed lanes. She drove his new Altima like it was made for her.

  He loved that Brenda suited every aspect of his life. She was a slam dunk in the girlfriend department. He ran his fingers over the velvet box in his pocket. Tonight was the night. The restaurant staff had been informed of his plans. With their help, his proposal would be flawless.

  “Should I adjust the temp?” he asked.

  “I’m good, sweetie,” she smiled at him, then quickly faced forward again.

  Brenda would make the best high-school coach’s wife. His students loved her and she loved basketball as much as he did. It was so easy to be with her.

  “Evan, you made the perfect choice. This car is so quiet. I can’t believe we can’t hear the outside noise.”

  “I know. That’s what sold me.” He pointed up ahead. “Make a right at the light.” He hadn’t revealed their dinner location. If he didn’t pay close attention, they’d miss a turn.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me where we’re going?”

  “I’m sure. I still think you should have let me drive. Then it would really be a surprise.”

  She laughed. “Of course, it would have been better, but I’ve been itching to get behind the wheel ever since you bought it.”

  “Well now—”

  A black truck swerved in and out of their lane.

  “Baby, slow down. Watch out for that truck!”

  There was nowhere to pull over, no way to avoid the impending collision. The two-lane road had no shoulder and the truck was picking up speed.

  The black truck righted itself. But before Evan could even sigh in relief, the truck corrected, ending up in their lane, headed straight for them.

  They were going to collide.

  Evan held his breath, clenched his eyes, and braced for impact. Brenda’s scream pierced the air, but it seemed far away. His seat belt locked tight as the car came to an abrupt stop.

  A weight dropped onto his leg. Pain exploded, smoke filled his nose. His body struggled to make sense of what happened. Finally, he closed his eyes and gave in to the darkness.

  THE PAIN WAS UNBEARABLE. Was his left leg on fire? A cry of agony tore from his throat.

  “Hold on, Mr. Carter, we’re almost to the hospital.”

  The voice barely penetrated through the pain. How could there be so much pain? Evan groaned, wishing it would stop.

  Brenda. He tried to form her name, but the pain proved too much. Darkness closed in, as panic choked him. Overcome, he faded into oblivion.

  EVAN STRUGGLED TO OPEN his eyes. The burning sensation in his leg was still there but not as intensely. He let out a slow steady breath, afraid that any movement would increase the pain once more. What was that noise?

  A steady beep played in the background. He turned his head slowly and stopped as a man in blue scrubs stepped forward.

  “Mr. Carter, I’m Dr. Johnson. You’ve been in a car accident and suffered a severe trauma to your left leg.”

  An accident?

  The truck. It had careened toward them. He inhaled sharply. The beeping noise began to increase.

  “Brenda,” he rasped as the beeping noise filled his ears.

  “Take a deep breath and try to stay calm. You’re in good hands, Mr. Carter. We need to take you into the OR to repair your leg, okay?”

  But what about Brenda? He tried to nod, but his body felt too heavy to accomplish the movement. His mind was a jumbled mess. Why couldn’t he focus? Why did his leg burn?

  Dear Lord, please make it stop.

  THE BLINDING LIGHT made his eyes water. Evan closed them and conducted a quick mental assessment of his body. The burning was gone. Relief poured out in a sigh. He tried to move the leg in question and frowned. His body wouldn’t cooperate. He lay there, trying to get his bearings, and noticed hushed whispers for the first time.

  “I’m afraid we couldn’t save his left leg. We had to amputate it right above the knee.”

  He frowned. Who were they talking about? Who lost a leg?

  “Oh, my God, no!” a woman’s voice cried out.

  The voice was eerily familiar, but he couldn’t place it. He tried to think but he just couldn’t. His head and limbs were heavy with fatigue. Or maybe it was the medicine they gave him. That had to be the reason the burning sensation left.

  “He’ll have a long road of recovery ahead of him, but Chicago has the best rehab unit in the state.”

  That voice. Wasn’t that the surgeon? Were they talking about him? He gasped as the implications took hold.

  The beeping noise became frenetic.

  Voices began shouting.

  Amidst all the noise, he made out the woman’s voice, “God, please save my baby.”

  Chapter One

  Two months later

  Jo Ellen Baker slammed the tailgate of her pickup shut. Another successful job completed. She grinned as she rounded the truck to hop in. For the past year, she’d
poured every last ounce of energy into her father’s construction business. The one he left solely to her.

  “I hope you’re proud of me,” she whispered.

  Sometimes, she felt guilty that her father’s death had landed her a dream job, owner and sole proprietor of Baker’s Renos & Repairs. Then again, she couldn’t imagine doing anything else. She’d always been the one to work with her father, not her older brother nor her little sister.

  Pulling out of her latest client’s driveway, she headed back home. The crisp fall air filled her lungs as a gentle breeze blew in from the open window. She glanced outside, catching a view of Freedom Lake, the town’s namesake. The view looked like a scene right out of one of Bob Ross’ paintings. The trees wore their autumn foliage proudly. Their beautiful array of colors reflected across the lake’s surface. If fate was kind, she’d take her last breath in this town.

  Her cell phone rang, startling her. She frowned, noting the caller ID. Why would Mrs. Carter be calling her? Mr. and Mrs. Carter ran the only Bed and Breakfast in Freedom Lake. Perhaps they needed something repaired. She answered the phone.

  “Jo, I have a huge favor to ask of you.”

  “How can I help you, Mrs. Carter?”

  “Well, see, Evan is back in town. You remember Evan, right?”

  Jo nodded, too numb to speak. Evan’s back?

  He’d left town twelve years ago, shortly after their high school graduation. A fact she’d celebrated with her best friends, Chloe and Michelle. Once upon a time, Evan had been a friend. Then high school happened. If she never saw him again, it would be too soon.

  “I remember.”

  “Well, of course you do. I mean Freedom Lake isn’t that big and you two did go to high school together. Anyway, the reason I called was because I need a place for him to stay. You know the B&B stays busy. Besides, he can’t live in the butler’s pantry forever. Just because it can fit a twin-sized bed, doesn’t mean the space will work for him. Anyway, can you renovate the carriage house into an apartment? I would just love for him to be able to have his own privacy, yet still really close in case he needs anything.”

  Jo blinked. How did Mrs. Carter not run out of steam? Yet, there seemed to be an underlying layer of nerves behind the forced cheer. Perhaps she knew Jo was tempted to say no.

  “Jo?” Mrs. Carter asked softly.

  I don’t want to do it! “Hold on a sec. I need to look at my calendar.”

  She pulled over on the side of the road and grabbed her clipboard. But she didn’t have to look at her calendar to know the rest of her Friday afternoon was wide open. “How about today at one thirty. I can look it over and come up with a plan. Is that doable?”

  “That sounds wonderful, Jo. Can I fix you a late lunch or anything?”

  “No thank you, Mrs. Carter. See you then.”

  “You sure will.”

  “Another job,” she whispered. On the one hand, a potential job was always a good thing. But the thought of running into Evan again chilled her down to the bone.

  But don’t you want to see what he looks like now?

  She shook her head at the thought. Knowing her luck, he’d still be good looking. Not that she ever admitted to noticing. But maybe, just maybe, he’d have a pot belly and premature balding. With a smirk she turned, navigating the truck up the street known as Prosperity Ridge, where the descendants of the founding members of Freedom Lake resided. The homes on Prosperity Ridge showcased the Victorian and Queen Anne era architectural style. Of course, the Baker place happened to be Jo’s favorite. Then again, she was biased.

  She pulled into the driveway and stared at the closed garage. Was her mother home? The garage door opener stared at her, begging her to check, but that wouldn’t work too well. If she was home, the garage door would alert her to Jo’s presence. No, it would be best to walk quietly into the house. She closed her eyes, willing a calm to come over her.

  Slow deep breaths. Calm from the center in and out.

  Slowly, Jo laid a hand on the front doorknob. Please don’t be home, please don’t be home. The door opened without a sound, thanks to her great home maintenance. Silence greeted her ears as she entered the front door. She turned her head to the side, trying to pick up any hint of noise. If the situation wasn’t so dire, she’d laugh at herself. It’s not like she was a canine.

  Her stomach grumbled, reminding her of her need for lunch. Jo took care to tread carefully in her heavy work boots, tiptoeing across the hardwood floors through the living room and into the kitchen...where her mother stood.

  No!

  “Where have you been, Jo Ellen?”

  “At a client’s.” She headed for the fridge.

  “Jo Ellen, you need to put this ridiculous notion aside. You are not some...some carpenter.” Her mother’s tone reverberated in her head like a clanging cowbell.

  Same argument, different day. You’d think a year would have given her mother enough time to get used to the idea.

  “Mother, Dad left me the business. Plus, I love my job.” If she could honor her dad by being who she truly was, then she would. Her mother would have to get over it.

  “But walking around in those hideous overalls isn’t going to get you any dates.” Her mother sighed, a long tragic sound. “You’re not getting any younger, Jo Ellen. When will you find a nice man and marry? You need to settle down like your sister.”

  Just what she wanted to be: a gold digger. Fortunately, Vanessa’s husband didn’t seem to mind shelling out money on a woman fifteen years his junior. Guess that was a perk of being a doctor.

  “If a guy can’t accept my job or how I dress, why would I want to be with him?”

  She opened the plastic container that housed her leftovers and popped it into the microwave.

  Her mother’s heel tapped against the wood floor. “Do you know I’m the only one in the bridge club who doesn’t have a lot of grandchildren? I have just two, that’s all your brother has given me. At least he has a sense of what’s right. Time is ticking for you, young lady.”

  Not fast enough.

  Could she head for the Carter’s B&B now? The thought of listening to her mother’s complaints any longer set her teeth on edge.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “Mother...” she sighed, trying to remember to be respectful. “I haven’t had lunch. I’m tired and I have another appointment soon. Could we have this conversation another time?” Like never?

  “I can’t believe how you always neglect me. You know I’m a widow now. I just want the house filled with the laughter of my grandchildren. Is that so much to ask for?”

  Jo chewed her food, thankful for the excuse not to answer her mother.

  “Fine, whatever, Jo Ellen. Eat your food. Run around in your masculine overalls. Good luck getting a man to look at you twice and see if I care.”

  Her mother stalked out of the kitchen, her heels echoing in her wake.

  Indigestion reared its ugly head. She set her food aside and grabbed her keys. In a few minutes, she could be at the Carter B&B and far away from her mother.

  And that’s just what she did. Jo made it to Summit Drive, which had the second best view overlooking the lake, in record time. As she pulled into the Carter’s driveway, she took in the features of the 1900s-era home. Painted a tan color, its white trim gleamed in the autumn sunlight. Walking around the side of the house to the front, she exhaled at the sight of the porch.

  Ever since she could remember, she’d had an obsession with wraparound porches. The B&B’s was only a three-quarter wraparound, since the three-car garage took up one side, but it didn’t take away from its appeal at all. The porch practically begged for someone to sit and take in the majestic view of Freedom Lake. To top it off, the second floor had a balcony, complete with bistro seating. The view was why the place was so popular with tourists.

  She rang the doorbell and winced as the jangling sound pierced her ears and jarred her nerves. She shoved her hands in her pockets, trying not to
fidget as she waited for someone to answer the door. Would Evan be here? Would she have to ‘make nice,’ as her mother was so fond of saying?

  I hope not. Please, let Mrs. Carter answer the door.

  A crack in the doorframe drew her eye. It seemed out of place. She trailed the path it made, noticing the gaping hole at the end. She would have to advise Mrs. Carter to patch it up. The sound of the door opening drew her attention away from the hole. And oil the hinges.

  The problems with the door evaporated from her mind once she realized something was severely wrong, because Jo had to look down in order to see Evan. Evan who had to be at least six feet tall. Her eyes momentarily widened in shock.

  She straightened to her full height, intent on ignoring his deep scowl and glaring black eyes. Drawing on the years of debutante training her mother had insisted on, she schooled her facial features into an expressionless mask. She would not show her real feelings, which took considerable effort, because Evan Carter sat in a wheelchair...missing a leg.

  EVAN LET OUT A WHOOSH of air. Jo Baker stood illuminated in the doorway by the sun’s light. He knew returning home raised the potential of running into his former classmates, but he never thought he’d see Jo again. He figured she’d be long gone by now. The last time he’d seen her, she’d had braces, frizzy hair, and big-framed eyeglasses and was walking across the graduation stage.

  The woman standing before him now was a far cry from the awkward teenager he used to tease. It was obvious she fell into the late bloomer camp. Sure, she had dressed in a long-sleeve shirt and overalls, but her curves couldn’t be ignored. Her black hair had been swept into a ponytail. Was that the reason her cat-shaped eyes seemed more pronounced? Gone were the glasses and braces. Her copper-colored skin glowed and her cheeks held a rosy hue.

  Was she wearing makeup?

  He hid his surprise. He never pegged her as the type to wear the stuff. Despite her shockingly good looks, the venom in her facial expression couldn’t be ignored. Her rich brown eyes seemed to drill a hole right through to his soul. He froze at the shock of her anger. No one had ever glared at him like that. Especially, since he had landed in a wheelchair.