Fighting Fate Read online

  Fighting Fate

  By

  Amity Hope

  Copyright© 2013

  All rights reserved. This work is protected under the US Copyright Act. It may not be reproduced in any manner without the consent of the publisher. The only exception is to brief quotations that may be used in reviews. Any other use is in direct violation of US copyright laws.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to names, locations or events are coincidental.

  Please note: The end of this e book contains an excerpt from Ditched by Amity Hope.

  Chapter One

  “It’s, well…” Gretchen slowly turned, taking it all in.

  She was at a loss for words, Sarah could tell. No, she amended the thought. She’s at a loss for polite words. She knew this because Gretchen’s grimace said what her voice would not.

  “It’s pretty much what I expected,” Sarah told her. She was trying to be reassuring. She ran her hand across the smooth, golden oak that comprised the banister. Her fingers came away coated in several years’ worth of dust. She scrubbed her hands together, forcing the dust and grime to fall away.

  “You were expecting filthy?” Gretchen wondered. She was already rooting around in her purse for an antibacterial wipe. She plucked one out and handed it to Sarah who lazily wiped her fingers with it.

  Sarah’s eyes swept over the room once more. They were standing in the living room, right off of the small kitchen. All of the furniture was covered in clear plastic. As with everything else, the plastic was covered in a layer of dust.

  A short hallway led to the bedroom that had been her grandmother’s. The staircase led to two more bedrooms. They hadn’t gone up yet but Sarah could visualize the rooms perfectly from memory. Both rooms would have slanted ceilings, scuffed up hardwood floors and loud, obnoxious floral wallpaper. One was set up with an antique bedroom set. It was the room she had stayed in whenever she’d spent the night. The other room was a bedroom turned into a sewing room.

  Her grandmother’s house was as familiar to her as the house she’d grown up in. Never mind that she hadn’t been here for two years. Not since the day her grandmother had passed away, leaving Sarah to the task of picking out the funeral dress.

  She gave a small shake of her head as she pushed away the memory.

  “Yes,” she said, “I was expecting it to need a good cleaning and even more TLC.”

  “Right,” Gretchen muttered under her breath. “‘Good cleaning’ may be the understatement of a lifetime.”

  When they’d walked into the farmhouse, Sarah could tell that Gretchen had been appalled. The place had been uninhabited for several years. Even before her death, Sarah’s grandma, Cora, hadn’t lived there for quite some time. She’d taken an unfortunate tumble down the cellar stairs Sarah’s freshman year of college. It was a tumble she had never fully recovered from. First her body had begun to give out on her, then her mind. She had spent her last few years in a nursing home.

  “You should’ve let Dad hire a cleaning crew,” Gretchen said.

  Sarah watched Gretchen wrinkle her nose as she circled the room. It was early July and the heat was nearly stifling. Blended with the dust swirling through the air, the house was a bit miserable at the moment. Greare momenetchen reached behind her head, pulling her mass of raven-colored curls into a knot at the back of her neck. She fanned a hand in front of her face, gave up on cooling off and then let her hair tumble back down again.

  “Why would I have him do that?” Sarah asked. “There’s nothing that needs to be done here that I’m not capable of doing myself.”

  Inside, anyway. She already had plans for stripping off all the wallpaper so she could update the rooms with a new coat of paint. Redoing the original oak flooring was a daunting task but one she was looking forward to. She wanted everything restored to perfection. Yet updated to her liking. Outside, with its hopelessly chipping paint and sagging front porch was another matter entirely.

  Fortunately for Sarah, Cora had left all of her worldly possessions to her. This included a pretty hefty bank account. Having grown up in tough times, Cora had lived well below her means all of her adult life. She and Sarah’s grandpa, who had passed away when Sarah was just a baby, had always scrimped and saved. It was just their way. The money in her grandmother’s savings account was more than enough to cover the renovations that were needed.

  Sarah inwardly sighed. Not too long ago, the empty farmhouse had been a nagging nuisance, picking away at her subconscious. She had nearly listed it with a realtor half a dozen times or more. Always, her guilt had gotten the best of her.

  Now? Now the old farmhouse felt like a saving grace. Like a refuge. It was somewhere comfortable, familiar and safe. It was somewhere to hide away from the world. It was somewhere to hide away from her old life. Over the past months, since she’d decided to move back to Laurel, there hadn’t been a day that went by that she hadn’t been grateful for that nagging voice of guilt. She had it to thank for deciding not to sell.

  While the house itself wasn’t much—yet, though she was sure that when she was done with it, it would be—the land, all eighty acres, were quite desirable. She was sure that had she listed the house, it would’ve sold quickly.

  A lot had changed since her grandmother had passed away. Not that long ago, renovating a farmhouse had been the very last thing on her mind. She’d had a wedding to plan, a future to look forward to. That was no longer the case. Now, she was looking forward to the distraction the hard work would provide.

  She glanced around, taking note of everything. Doilies—made by Cora—that decorated every surface. Knickknacks on shelves that hadn’t been covered in plastic were wearing enough dust to create a whole herd of dust bunnies. The original hardwood flooring that had seen nearly a century of wear and tear. The loud, mostly floral wallpaper that was peeling and curling along the edges covered most rooms. Drapes that were so out of date they had no hope of ever being considered stylishly retro.

  She had her work cut out for her. This house needed saving.

  outt size=And maybe she did too.

  Her heart ached as her memories began to burn through her. It was strange, being in this house without her grandmother. Cora had been one of the kindest, most caring souls that Sarah had ever known. So maybe restoring her grandmother’s house, in honor of her, would be therapeutic.

  Therapeutic was something she desperately craved.

  When Sarah glanced up, Gretchen was watching her curiously. Gretchen’s look of trepidation immediately melted into a determined smile when she realized she’d been caught staring.

  “How soon do you want to get started?” she demanded.

  “Oh,” Sarah said in surprise, “I wasn’t expecting you to help.”

  Gretchen waved a dismissive hand her way. “Of course I’m going to help. I’m home for the summer. I’m only working part-time at the bakery. What else am I going to do to keep busy until fall semester starts?” Then her smile faltered. “Unless…you don’t want my help.”

  “It’s not that…” Sarah quickly began, though it was a lie. It was definitely that. She’d returned to her hometown hoping to find some solitude. She’d hoped to find it while restoring the farmhouse. Yet, she realized she should’ve known better. Gretchen surely had other ideas for the both of them.

  Gretchen didn’t wait for Sarah to come up with an excuse. Instead, she began rummaging around in her purse. “I have something for you,” she said.

  Sarah didn’t have time to protest.

  Gretchen pulled out a small polka-dot covered notebook. A sparkly pink pen was tied to the front with a strand of white curling ribbon. “I know how you like to be organized. You can use this to start making those lists you like so well. I thought this would
be better than the scraps of paper you’re always scrounging up. This way, you can keep everything together and add to it if you need to.”

  Sarah smiled at the simple but sweet gesture. Gretchen could be overwhelming, overbearing and just flat out over the top sometimes. But she had a good heart and Sarah loved that about her. “Thanks, Gretchen.”

  Gretchen linked her arm through Sarah’s. “Let’s sit out on the front steps where there’s a bit of a breeze. If we’re going to do this, we may as well get started.”

  *****

  “You know, most people dream of getting out of Laurel,” Gretchen said as she turned out of the driveway and onto the long gravel road that would lead them to the main road. “Not of coming back.”

  “I like this town,” Sarah told her.

  “Why?”

  “Well, for one thing, there’s not a lot of traffic.”

  “That’s because there’s nowhere to go,” Gretchen said with a sigh.

  Sarah slouched down in the passenger seat, relishing the gust of cold from the air conditioning. “This town isn’t that small, Gretchen. In fact, it’s grown a lot since I left.”

  A factory had come in Sarah’s senior year of high school. It made outdoor equipment. The factory had provided much needed jobs for the area. Over the last seven years while Sarah had been away—first at college, then working full-time—the town had grown considerably. New housing developments had come in, new restaurants, a strip-mall and dozens of other smaller businesses that Sarah was only vaguely aware of. Normally, she probably wouldn’t pay attention to that sort of thing. However, the stimulation of the local economy and its influence on the town now had a direct influence on her.

  “It’s not that big, either,” Gretchen grumbled.

  “It’s getting there. It’s grown so much that they had to build a brand new high school,” Sarah reminded her. “And if not for the new school, I wouldn’t have a new job. And that means I wouldn’t be here.”

  “True,” Gretchen conceded, finally smiling. “Do you think you’ll be able to finish the remodeling before school starts?”

  Sarah had been one of the eight new staff hired. Not only was she looking forward to a new building, but the class sizes in Laurel would be much smaller than what she was used to.

  She sat up straight again. “I won’t get finished if I don’t get started.” She glanced at the notebook on her lap. In less than half an hour, it was already full of lists. The first was a shopping list that consisted mostly of cleaning supplies. The second was a shopping list for her upcoming projects. It was filled with the items she would need as she began her renovations. The third list detailed all of the renovations she planned to do herself. She was sure she would be adding to that list as the weeks wore on. The final list was thankfully the shortest. Yet it would prove to be the most costly. She knew the farmhouse was in dire need of a new roof, new siding and last of all, a new front porch.

  She took a deep breath, wondering just what she was getting herself into. Her fingers strummed against the notebook. That’s why she made lists. When things were broken down, they didn’t seem as overwhelming.

  “What are you thinking about?” Gretchen wondered.

  Sarah glanced over at her, cringing in anticipation of Gr

  “What?” Gretchen’s tone let Sarah know just how disappointed she was to hear that. She pulled her eyes from the road long enough to give Sarah a look of disapproval. “I thought you’d be staying at Mom and Dad’s until the renovations were done! Do they know this?”

  “I thought they did. But I also thought you knew. It just makes more sense for me to stay there. I mean, it is my house,” Sarah explained.

  “But it’s barely livable,” Gretchen argued.

  “It’s not that bad. I mean sure, it needs a good cleaning. And yes, everything in the house is hopelessly outdated. That doesn’t mean it’s not completely livable. Besides, it’ll be so much easier if I stay there. I can start in first thing in the morning and work as long as I want. If I’m there, I can just pick away at projects. I can set my own pace. You have to agree, it makes sense,” Sarah pressed.

  “Fine,” Gretchen grumbled. “But you have to be the one to tell Mom and Dad. I’m warning you, they aren’t going to like it. We’ve all been so worried about you. They were so relieved to hear you were moving home.”

  Sarah rubbed her thumb across the stone of her engagement ring. “They don’t need to worry about me. And neither do you. I’m fine.”

  “You’re my big sister. Of course I’m going to worry about you,” Gretchen quietly told her.

  They weren’t biological sisters. But they were sisters in all the ways that mattered. Sarah’s dad had married Gretchen’s mom before Sarah had started elementary school. Neither could remember a time in their lives when the other hadn’t been in it.

  Sarah’s biological mother, Melinda, had left her dad when she was barely a toddler. She claimed that family life just wasn’t for her. For years, Frank Heath had held out hope that his wife would return. She never had. Not once. Not for a single birthday, Christmas or even Sarah’s graduation.

  It had almost been a surprise that, as an only child, Melinda had bothered to show up for her mother’s funeral. Before long, the intent behind it had become clear. She had no interest in showing her respect. Rather, she was anxious for the will to be read.

  She’d had the audacity to show her surprise when Sarah had been named as the recipient of Cora’s home and the majority of her money. She had tried to contest it, but the will was ironclad. As soon as that was determined, she’d flitted out of her daughter’s life yet again. That had been two summers ago.

  Gretchen’s mother, Suzanne, had walked away from her alcoholic fiancé when Gretchen was merely weeks old. She had never looked back and he had never come looking for Suzanne or his newborn daughter.

  The parents the two of them shared now were the opanw were nly parents either of them had ever really known. They were also the only parents that either of them acknowledged having.

  Though Sarah was close to four years older, her little sister stood a good half foot taller than her petite frame. The dissimilarity did not end there. Gretchen’s hair had always been an unruly mass of raven ringlets. A light smattering of freckles dotted her nose and cheekbones, livening up her otherwise porcelain complexion. Her eyes were a brown so dark they appeared to be nearly as dark as her hair. Her limbs were long and lanky.

  Sarah’s hair was stick straight and the color of cinnamon. Or so she’d been told a long time ago. Her eyes were hazel, ringed in a color closer to honey than gold. Another observation given to her so long ago she sometimes wished she could forget all about it. While petite, she had curves her sister did not. She thought it was only fair since Gretchen had the height that she’d always envied.

  Sarah could feel Gretchen throwing concerned glances her way. She knew if she didn’t distract her sister soon she would delve into a topic Sarah did not want to discuss. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

  “I think we should go to Murphy’s Hardware,” she said. “I can get all of my cleaning supplies there. They also carry paint. That way I can bring some samples home. Maybe you can even help me decide on some colors.”

  Gretchen’s expression brightened at that. “This is going to be so much fun!”

  Several minutes later they pulled into the small parking lot adjacent to the hardware store. A wave of sweltering heat hit them as they alighted from the vehicle.

  “Remind me to look for a couple of fans,” Sarah said as she crossed the street. They had opened most of the windows in the farmhouse—at least the ones that hadn’t been stuck shut—before they left. The air flow had helped some but not enough. “I didn’t think to put fans on the list but I’ll definitely need at least two. One for upstairs and one for down.”

  “Got it,” Gretchen said as they entered the refreshing coolness of the store. She pulled a shopping cart out of the lineup. “Where do you want to start?”
>
  Sarah pointed at a large display of fans conveniently placed in the center aisle. “There,” she said. “I should start with those. Otherwise I’ll probably get sidetracked and forget.”

  She circled the display, not sure if she wanted a box fan or a round fan. Would rotating fans make more sense? Or a fan that would fit in a window? Maybe one of each? Should she get the biggest one or would that end up being a hassle? Would two fans be enough? She gazed off contemplatively.

  A figure walking up to the register at the front of the store caught her attention. The mere sight of him tossed every last thought about fans right out of her head. She only saw the man in profile as he looked down at whatever it was that he was carrying. Then his back was to her and he was greeted by the elderly gentleman behind the register. It didn’t matter. Even after all of these years, that one brief glance of him genance ofwas enough.

  For several long moments, she stood frozen. Her heart felt like a jackhammer but her feet felt like lead.

  “Honestly, Sarah,” Gretchen said, cutting into her thoughts, “they’re just fans. You don’t need to over think this.”

  Her sister’s words cut into her haze. She took a step back, pulling Gretchen along with her as she went.

  “What are you doing?” Gretchen demanded as Sarah peeked around the display that was their makeshift barricade.

  Ignoring her, Sarah whisper-yelled, “What is he doing here?”

  “That guy?” Gretchen asked as she peered around the display as well. A smile curved across her face as her gaze swept down the length of his body and back up again.

  Sarah scowled and backhanded Gretchen across the chest.

  “Ow!” Gretchen yelped. “What was that for?”

  “That look. I don’t like that look you gave him. That wasn’t an open invitation to check him out. I just want to know what he’s doing here.”

  Gretchen shrugged. “It looks like he’s buying a drill. That’s not uncommon. It is a hardware store,” she wryly pointed out. “That’s the kind of thing people come here for.”