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First love. Second chance?
As the daughter of a hoarder, Phoenix Fuller had a tough childhood. So when the handsome, popular Riley Stinson became her boyfriend in high school, she finally felt as though she had something to be proud of. Phoenix was desperate not to lose him—especially once she found out she was pregnant. Yes, she might have acted a bit obsessive when he broke up with her. But she did not run down the girl he started dating next.
Unfortunately, there was no way to prove her innocence. Now, after serving her time in prison, Phoenix has been released. All she wants to do is return to Whiskey Creek and get to know her son. But Jacob’s father isn’t exactly welcoming.
Riley doesn’t trust Phoenix, doesn’t want her in Jacob’s life. He is, however, ready to find someone to love. And he wants a good mother for his son. He has no idea that he’s about to find both!
Praise for the Whiskey Creek novels of New York Times bestselling author Brenda Novak
“Novak is always a go-to author for sassy romance set in small towns loaded with charm. Her latest in the Whiskey Creek series is naughty and nice, and readers will fall in love with the magic of the season.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Heart of Christmas, Top Pick
“If you haven’t started reading the Whiskey Creek series, get going! Novak’s…gift for writing about passion never ceases to amaze, and fans of romance will be hooked with just one visit to Whiskey Creek.”
—RT Book Reviews on Come Home to Me, Top Pick
“Once again Novak’s Whiskey Creek springs to life in all its realistic, gritty Gold Country glory.… This poignant, heartfelt romance puts a refreshing spin on the classic reunion/secret baby theme.”
—Library Journal on Come Home to Me
“[Brenda Novak] weaves a tight story of human weakness and longing, with cross threads of passion and hope. One needn’t wonder why Novak is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author.”
—Examiner.com on Come Home to Me
“The worst part of any Brenda Novak book is the last page. I always want more… The Whiskey Creek series is an absolute delight and this newest installment is…so satisfying I ran out of superlatives. Brenda Novak outdid herself.”
—Fresh Fiction on Take Me Home for Christmas
“[Home to Whiskey Creek is an] engrossing, character-rich story that takes a hard look at responsibility, loyalty and the results of telling (or concealing) the truth.”
—Library Journal
“It’s steamy, it’s poignant, it’s perfectly paced—it’s When Lightning Strikes and you don’t want to miss it.”
—Happy Ever After on USATODAY.com
This Heart of Mine
Brenda Novak
www.mirabooks.co.uk
To my children.
The love I feel for you made this story what it is.
Dear Reader,
I’ve now written more than fifty books, so when I get the question “Which book is your favorite?” it’s even more difficult to answer than it was before. I like different books for different reasons. The Stillwater Trilogy will always be among my favorites (Dead Silence, Dead Giveaway and Dead Right). So will A Home of Her Own from the Dundee series and Inside from the Bulletproof trilogy. Some stories are just easier to write. Or certain characters are more accessible to me, which creates a stronger bond. This novel is one of those standout stories that poured right onto the page (how I wish they could all do that!). I think it’s because, as a mother of five, I can so easily relate to Phoenix in her desire to have the chance to show her teenage son the love she feels for him.
Those of you who’ve read my books before probably know that I often focus on redemption themes. After what Phoenix has been through, she deserves the best of happily-ever-afters, and I thoroughly enjoyed giving her one.
I love to hear from my readers. Please feel free to contact me online at brendanovak.com, or by snail mail at PO Box 3781, Citrus Heights, CA 95611. If you sign up for my mailing list, I’ll be able to alert you to special sales and giveaways and send a reminder whenever I have a new book out. You can also find me on Facebook (BrendaNovakAuthor) and Twitter (@Brenda_Novak).
Here’s hoping you enjoy watching Phoenix and Riley rediscover each other!
Brenda
WHISKEY CREEK Cast of Characters
Phoenix Fuller: Recently released from prison. Mother of Jacob Stinson, who is being raised by his father, Riley.
Riley Stinson: Contractor, father of Jacob.
Gail DeMarco: Owns a public relations firm in Los Angeles. Married to movie star Simon O’Neal.
Ted Dixon: Bestselling thriller writer, married to Sophia DeBussi.
Eve Harmon: Manages Little Mary’s B & B, which is owned by her family. Recently married to Lincoln McCormick, a newcomer.
Kyle Houseman: Owns a solar panel business. Formerly married to Noelle Arnold. Best friend of Riley Stinson.
Baxter North: Stockbroker in San Francisco.
Noah Rackham: Professional cyclist. Owns Crank It Up bike shop. Married to Adelaide Davies, chef and manager of Just Like Mom’s restaurant, owned by her grandmother.
Callie Vanetta: Photographer. Married to Levi McCloud/Pendleton, veteran of Afghanistan.
Olivia Arnold: Kyle Houseman’s true love but married to Brandon Lucero, Kyle’s stepbrother.
Dylan Amos: Owns an auto-body shop with his brothers. Married to Cheyenne Christensen, and they have a baby boy.
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Praise
Title Page
Dedication
Dear Reader
Cast of Characters
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
Epilogue
Extract
Copyright
1
It was the first time she’d seen her son since the day she gave birth to him. Phoenix Fuller had spent an eternity waiting for this moment. She’d counted every single breath, it seemed, for sixteen years, waiting to lay eyes on Jacob again.
But as anxious as she was, she’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry, or try to hug him, or do anything else that might make a teenage boy feel uncomfortable. She was a stranger to him. Although she hoped to change that now that she was back in town, she couldn’t come on too strong or he’d likely shut her out—even if his father didn’t make sure he kept her at arm’s length. She had to be an embarrassment to both of them. They were all from the same small town; it wasn’t as if they could hide the fact that she’d spent Jacob’s entire life in prison.
Her heart leaped into her throat as she watched Jacob and his father, Riley Stinson, get out of a large Ford pickup and stride toward the entrance of the restaurant.
God, her son was tall, she thought, hungrily devouring the sight of him. How he’d gotten so big, she had no idea. She barely topped five feet. Even at thirty-five, she could be mistaken for a much younger person when she wasn’t wearing makeup and had her hair pulled back. But Jacob took after his father in size and shape, had the same broad shoulders, narrow hips and long legs.
“Excuse me. Your table’s ready whenever you are.”
Phoenix wouldn’t have heard the hostess if the woman hadn’t touched her arm when she spoke.
It required real effort, but she dragged her gaze away from the window in order to respond. “Thank you. The rest of my party will be here in a second.”
“That’s fine. Just let me know when you’re ready.” With a polite smile, the young woman seated a couple standing nearby.
Once again, Phoenix’s eyes were riveted on her son. Only this time, she felt such a surge of emotion she almost darted into the bathroom. She could not break down.
Please, God, don’t let me cry. He won’t come within ten feet of me if I do.
But the harder she tried to hold back her tears, the more overwhelmed she became. In a panic, she slipped around the corner, into the small alcove by the bathrooms, and leaned her head against the wall.
Breathe. Don’t blow this.
The bell over the door jingled, telling her that Riley and Jacob had stepped inside. She imagined them looking around, maybe getting annoyed when they didn’t find her. But she was frozen in place. She absolutely could. Not. Move.
“Hey,” she heard the hostess say with a familiarity that hadn’t been present in her greeting to Phoenix. “We’re busy this morning, like we are every Saturday. But if you can wait for a few minutes, I’ll get you a table.”
“We’re actually meeting someone who should be here.”
That had to be Riley, but Phoenix couldn’t say she recognized his voice. Her memories of him were vivid. But they’d both been so young, and he’d changed a great deal. No longer the skinny teenager she’d known in high school, he was a man with plenty of hard muscle on his solid frame, a man in his prime, and that had been more than apparent as she’d watched him walk, shoulder to shoulder, with their son a few seconds earlier.
“Who are you here to meet?” the hostess asked.
“Name’s Phoenix Fuller,” came his response.
“What does she look like?”
“I’m not sure these days,” he said, and Phoenix winced. Her shoulder-length dark hair wasn’t bad. It was thick, probably her best asset. Her hazel eyes weren’t unattractive, either. She didn’t feel she was ugly. But the scars on her face would be new to him. She hadn’t had those when she went to prison.
“She wasn’t very tall,” he added, as if that might be the only detail still applicable.
“There was a woman who said she was expecting two more to join her,” the hostess said. “But I don’t know where she went...”
Determined not to miss this opportunity after waiting so long for it, Phoenix curved her fingernails into her palms, took a deep breath and stepped around the corner. “Sorry I...I had to wash my hands.”
The frown that appeared on Riley’s face brought heat to her cheeks. He wasn’t happy to be in her presence. No doubt he’d spent the past seventeen years hoping he’d never have to see her again, especially since her release date had been extended twice beyond her original sentence.
But she’d known this first meeting would be difficult. Squaring her shoulders, she ignored his disapproval and turned to Jacob. “Hello, I’m your mother.”
She’d practiced saying those words so many times and still almost choked up. Only by sheer will did she manage to retain control. “You can call me Phoenix, though, if that feels more natural to you. I don’t expect...” Her tongue seemed so thick and unwieldy, she could hardly speak. “I don’t expect you to do anything you don’t want to do, not when it comes to me.”
He seemed surprised she’d throw that out there right away, but she also thought she detected a slight lessening of the tension gripping his body. So she extended her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you. Thank you for coming. I hope this restaurant is okay. Just Like Mom’s was always a favorite of mine when I lived here so I hoped maybe...maybe it’d still be popular.”
Jacob glanced at his father before shaking her hand. “Hello,” he mumbled, but wouldn’t quite look her in the eye.
Telling herself that was normal, that a certain amount of reluctance was to be expected, she let go as soon as they touched. She didn’t want him to notice how badly she was trembling.
“Are you folks ready to sit down?” The hostess, who’d been distracted saying goodbye to some departing patrons, was now watching them with avid curiosity. She’d probably figured out that this was “the” Phoenix Fuller everyone had been talking about—the one who’d been convicted for running down a rival with her mother’s old Buick just before graduating from high school.
“Yes, please.” Supremely conscious of the two people trailing behind her, Phoenix followed the hostess across the restaurant to a corner booth.
Once they sat down, she leaned back as another woman came to bring them water.
“You can have anything you want,” she told Jacob as he opened the menu.
It was too soon to mention that. But she was nervous. And she’d worked so hard in the weeks before she was released to be able to provide this meal. She really wanted him to enjoy it.
“I like the Belgian waffle with the ice cream and strawberries.”
Grateful he’d chosen something rather celebratory and elaborate, she smiled. “Then you can have it.”
Belatedly, she realized that his father should have a say in the matter; it wasn’t a healthy meal and she held absolutely no power in Jacob’s life. So she appealed to Riley. “If that’s okay with your father.”
Once Riley had given his permission, she dropped her gaze. It was easier not to look at him. If she could’ve invited Jacob on his own, she would have. The emotions she felt where her son was concerned were poignant enough. Adding his father to the mix just complicated an already complicated situation.
“You can get whatever you’d like, too, of course,” she told Riley. “My treat.”
The second she got those words out, she felt her face burn even hotter. What a stupid thing to say! Riley was a successful building contractor. He didn’t need an ex-con to pay for his breakfast. And she knew that although she’d sent every dime she could spare to the support of her son, her contributions had been paltry compared to what he’d done for Jacob over the years. Riley probably found her offer to buy him breakfast laughable. But she’d meant to be generous. She was struggling so hard to get by that thirty dollars was a lot of money to her.
“The shrimp omelet’s good,” he said, and set his menu aside without really studying it.
The shrimp omelet and the Belgian waffle were the two most expensive meals on the menu, but Phoenix didn’t mind. She quickly calculated how much money she’d have left over and started looking for something under five dollars.
“I’m not very hungry,” she mused so they wouldn’t find it strange when she ordered light. “I think I’ll just have some toast and coffee.”
The minute she lowered her menu, she nearly raised it again to use as a shield. Both Riley and her son eyed her appraisingly, skeptically. Although she’d expected close scrutiny, it was still difficult to be examined like some kind of unusual—and not particularly welcome—bug. Not only that, but she was self-conscious about the scars on her face, didn’t want them to become a focal point.
“How long have you been home?” Riley asked, breaking a silence that was growing awkward.
She slid her menu to one side and folded her hands in her lap. “Three days.” She would have contacted him immediately, but it had taken some time to summon the nerve. He’d made it clear that he wished she’d settle anywhere but Whiskey Creek.
He clutched his water glass. “Who picked you up?”
She’d had to pay for a taxi, but she didn’t want to admit that. “An acquaintance who...who’s sort of a friend.”
That was nebulous, but he didn’t seem to question it. “I thought maybe your mother...”
“No. She can’t—doesn’t—drive these days.” At nearly six hundred pounds, she couldn’t fit inside a car. Her mother had been a recluse since Phoenix and Riley were dating. In addition to her weight, Lizzie had significant issues with hoarding and depression. She didn’t own a working car or have internet service. If not for the kindhearted guy from the Baptist church who’d brought groceries and performed the occasional vet run—for only ten dollars a week—while Phoenix was in prison, Lizzie might not have survived. It wasn’t as if Phoenix’s father cared about either one of them. Or her brothers, for that matter. He’d left shortly after Phoenix was born; no one even knew where he was these days. And her two older brothers, who’d been so devastated when he left, had washed their hands of Whiskey Creek and everything that went with it when she was still in school.
Riley had to be aware of Lizzie’s situation. So was he merely trying to reiterate the point he’d made in his last letter—that he believed Jacob would be better off without her involvement in his life? He’d mentioned her mother as a less-than-positive aspect of associating with her. Lizzie’s many problems were the reason Jacob hadn’t been allowed to visit his grandmother more than three or four times during his life, and of course her mother had never reached out. Although Lizzie often couched it as a gruff rejection, she felt too unworthy, especially when she came up against a well-established, well-respected family like the Stinsons.
Riley took another sip of his water. “How’s she doing?”
Phoenix refused to be drawn into a conversation about her mother. She wasn’t willing to address any subject that might make him less likely to let her see Jacob. “Fine.”
“Fine?” he repeated. “That’s it? I haven’t seen her around town in years.”
Jacob scowled at him. “You know what she’s like, Dad.”
Phoenix cleared her throat. “She’ll be better now that I’m home. I’ll see to it. And she won’t bother you or Jacob. I’ll make sure of that, too.”
“How can she bother us if she can’t leave the house?” Jacob asked, glaring at his father. “Has she bothered us so far?”
“I’ll handle this,” Riley said, but Phoenix felt the need to chime in. She couldn’t allow Riley to think Jacob was supporting her side of any argument. Riley held her heart in his hand because he controlled what she wanted most—a relationship with Jacob. So, first of all, she had to protect her relationship with him.
“Your father’s right. She can be...an embarrassment. I remember what it was like when...when I was in high school. But she’s, um, well, like you say, she doesn’t go anywhere, so I highly doubt she’ll be an issue.” Except for when he came to her place, but she’d figure out how to handle that if and when it happened.
Obviously annoyed that his father was being so protective, Jacob grumbled, “I’m not worried about it.”
She hoped that was true. He had enough to cope with just being her son. Not many other kids had to live with the stigma of having their mother labeled a murderer. “I hear you’re a talented baseball player,” she said, eager to change the subject.
This elicited a shy smile—one that revealed how very handsome and charismatic her son was. He looked even more like his father than she’d initially thought, with those amber-colored eyes and his nearly black hair.
“I like to play,” he said.
“It’s really something to be the starting varsity pitcher as a junior,” she told him. “Baseball’s a big deal around here.”
Riley’s mood seemed to improve as he gave his son’s shoulder a little shove. “Last week he almost pitched a no-hitter.”
Jacob lifted his eyebrows. “Almost but not quite.”
“The season’s young,” Riley responded.
Phoenix loved the pride in Riley’s voice. She felt that same pride. But right now, carrying on this conversation was a chore. For one thing, except for a few close friends she’d made in prison, she’d kept to herself. She didn’t consider herself particularly entertaining. For another, she just wanted to sit and stare, memorize all the details of her son’s face. The pictures she’d been sent had been far and few between and hadn’t done her boy justice. He’d had braces on in the last one, which had come in a Christmas card two years ago. Small effort though it required on Riley’s part, she was grateful to him for sending that. She still had both the card and the photo. They were among the scant belongings she’d brought home from prison.
“Do you have plans to play in college?” she asked.
“Definitely,” he replied. “I’ve got a few universities interested in me. Great ones, too. I’m hoping for a scholarship.”
He had so much going for him, so much to look forward to. She owed Riley for that. He’d done a great job with their son. “How exciting!” she said. “I’m sure you’ll get one.”
The waitress came to take their order, so Phoenix quickly added up what the tab would be, after they asked for orange juice with their meals. She didn’t want to embarrass herself when it came time to pay by running short. “Just coffee for me,” she said to be safe.
“That’s all you want?” Jacob asked.
“I don’t usually have much for breakfast.” Hungry though she was, she was too nervous to eat, anyway.
“No wonder you’re so small. Most of the girls in school are twice as big as you,” he said. “And some of them aren’t finished growing.”
“I might be small, but I’m strong,” she teased, flexing one arm.
“I heard. You got into a few fights in—”
“Let’s not start with that.” When Riley interrupted, her son flushed and fell silent.
“It’s okay, he can say what he wants,” she told Riley before answering Jacob. “I was forced to defend myself, but...I managed.” Sometimes better than others. It always depended on how many people jumped her at once.
“What happened?” Jacob asked.
During which incident? She supposed the one that had left the scar on her lip. She didn’t want to get into what life was like on the inside, but she also didn’t want him to feel there were subjects he had to avoid.
“The women in that prison could be...territorial,” she said. “There were times I had to fight or I’d be picked on for the rest of my stay, you know? I’m sure you’ve seen that type of behavior in school.” The fact that she was fighting for her life had given her little choice in the matter, but she didn’t want to make it sound quite so dire.
Jacob wrinkled his nose, clearly doubtful. “So you didn’t start the fight?”
“Would you start a fight if you were my size?” she asked with a laugh, hoping she could get him to smile.
He didn’t, but some of his doubt seemed to slip away. “No. I can’t even imagine how you defended yourself.”
“I told you.” She winked to cover a reservoir of much deeper feeling. “I’m stronger than I look.”
He studied her for a few seconds. “Is that what those scars are from?”
Phoenix’s tongue automatically sought the one on her lip. She’d gotten it just before she was due to be released two years ago—the cut and twenty stitches. The scar had come later. “Yeah.”
“From a fist?” he clarified.
“No, it was a razor blade.” She shifted in her seat, conscious that Riley couldn’t approve of her describing such a gruesome scene. But she wanted to satisfy Jacob’s curiosity so they could move on. She didn’t want him feeling she’d brushed his questions aside.
He frowned at her. “Must’ve hurt.”
It had, but the pain hadn’t been the worst of it. Those women, with the help of one guard who’d always had it in for her, had purposely set her up. She’d been blamed for starting the fight, which had added more than two years to her sentence. That had to be why Jacob was questioning her so carefully. He must’ve been told she was a troublemaker when she didn’t get out.
Although that day had been one of the darkest of her whole life, Phoenix shrugged so he wouldn’t have to know it. “Not too bad. Anyway, I’d like to see you pitch sometime, if you wouldn’t mind having me at a game.” She waved a hand before he could respond. “I’ll sit on the visitors’ side, so don’t worry about that.”