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A Memory to Cherish




  A Memory to Cherish

  Kay Correll

  Rose Quartz Press

  Copyright © 2019 Kay Correll

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any matter without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

  * * *

  Published by Rose Quartz Press

  ISBN 978-1-944761-24-0

  021119

  Memories dance in and out of the light… cherish them while you can.

  * * *

  This book is dedicated to each and every person taking care of someone with Alzheimer’s disease. May you find strength, courage, and patience.

  Kay’s Books

  Find more information on all my books at my website.

  * * *

  COMFORT CROSSING ~ THE SERIES

  The Shop on Main - Book One

  The Memory Box - Book Two

  The Christmas Cottage - A Holiday Novella (Book 2.5)

  The Letter - Book Three

  The Christmas Scarf - A Holiday Novella (Book 3.5)

  The Magnolia Cafe - Book Four

  The Unexpected Wedding - Book Five

  * * *

  The Wedding in the Grove - (a crossover short story between series - with Josephine and Paul from The Letter.)

  * * *

  LIGHTHOUSE POINT ~ THE SERIES

  Wish Upon a Shell - Book One

  Wedding on the Beach - Book Two

  Love at the Lighthouse - Book Three

  Cottage Near the Point - Book Four

  Return to the Island - Book Five

  Bungalow by the Bay - Book Six

  Click here to learn more about the series.

  * * *

  SWEET RIVER ~ THE SERIES

  A Dream to Believe in - Book One

  A Memory to Cherish - Book Two

  A Song to Remember - Book Three

  * * *

  INDIGO BAY ~ A multi-author sweet romance series

  Sweet Sunrise - Book Three

  Sweet Holiday Memories - A short holiday story

  Sweet Starlight - Book Nine

  * * *

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  Contents

  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

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Also by Kay Correll

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Beth screamed.

  The tapping at the car window started again.

  “Lady, you need help?”

  The rain poured down, obstructing any clear view of the man. Yes, she needed help. No, she wasn’t going to open her car door to an absolute stranger while stuck out in the middle of nowhere. That’s the stuff that always started segments of those Unsolved Mystery shows.

  “It’s Mac McKenna. I live in that town you just passed a few miles back.”

  Mac McKenna? Opening the car door to him might be more dangerous than inviting a complete stranger to rescue her. But she did need help, and she needed it quickly.

  She rolled the window down slightly to get a look at him.

  Mac McKenna in the flesh. And very well put together flesh if she remembered correctly.

  “I have a flat,” she said, as though he weren’t standing practically next to the deflated front driver’s side tire.

  “Need help changing it?”

  “No, I’m quite capable of changing it myself, but it’s pouring down rain, and I’m late for an important meeting.” She sounded like a pompous jerk. He probably thought she was one.

  She peered out through the pouring rain, scrutinizing what she could see of him not hidden by his cowboy hat and his rain slicker, which wasn’t much.

  “I could give you a lift.” His crooked smile suggested he knew she was giving him the once over.

  Accept a ride from him? What, did she look crazy? Of course, her options were slim to none. If she missed the meeting, her chances of making a good impression at the town council meeting were going to be washed away with the rain.

  She’d go with him. With any luck, not a soul would see them.

  “Okay. Thanks for the offer. I need to get to Watson Elementary School.”

  He delayed an almost imperceptible moment in answering. “Sure, no problem.” He tipped his well-worn cowboy hat farther back on his head to keep the rain from dripping down on her as he swung open her door.

  Beth grabbed the box resting beside her and piled her purse and some books on top of it. She tried to maneuver out while balancing the box.

  “Here, let me get that.” He confiscated the box, tucked it under one arm, and reached out a hand to help her.

  She ignored the hand and quickly slid out of the car, carefully locking the door behind her. He spread his rain slicker out to the side and tucked her close under his arm. Safe. Dry. She couldn’t squirm away without being obvious… and wet.

  He led the way to an old red pick-up truck parked behind her car, opened the passenger side door, and she slipped inside. He unceremoniously dumped the box on her lap and closed the door.

  The inside of the truck was meticulously clean. Worn leather seats, cleaned and polished. Dashboard clear of the bits of paper, receipts, and pens that cluttered her own car.

  “Oh, wait,” she said.

  He paused as he started to haul himself in on his side. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have one more file in the trunk that I need.” The file had facts and figures she’d painstakingly put together for tonight’s meeting. She couldn’t show up without them.

  He reached out his hand while she used every ounce of her concentration to keep from shrinking away from it. “Give me your keys. I’ll get it.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll get it.”

  “In case you’ve forgotten, it’s raining out here. Just give me the keys. I’ll be right back.”

  She handed him the keys. “It’s on top of a stack of stuff on the left side of the trunk.”

  She squinted, trying to watch through the window. She saw him dash through the rain, open the trunk, grab the file, and hurry back. He climbed in, pushed the file at her, then coaxed the truck to life. He pulled the truck onto the road and concentrated on driving through the pouring rain. The radio played country music quietly in the background. He nodded his head at her. “Seatbelt.”

  “What? Oh, sure.” She grabbed the belt and buckled up.

  The wipers swished back and forth, trying their best to clear the window. She didn’t know how he could even see the road, and this wasn’t a mountain road to mess with. Knowing the luck she was having today, she’d end up in the ditch with him out here in the middle of nowhere, no better off than she’d been back there with her flat. Well, actually, quite a bit worse off.

  Mac McKenna.

  Just what she needed right now, another complication.

  He drove on in silence. Not a word since the admonishment to buckle up. The air i
n the truck crackled with tension. Was it just the strain of driving in the torrential rain, or was he upset with her? She hadn’t meant to jerk away from his offered hand when getting out of her car. But all her instincts were in overdrive. This was Mac McKenna. Trouble. With a capital T.

  She’d been a few years behind him in school, but his reputation was legend. The same school district that now employed her. The school where the town council meeting was being held tonight in the gymnasium. That school.

  She turned toward him in the cab of the truck. She hadn’t even told him her name. Maybe it was safer that way. An anonymous face. No, she was being paranoid. “I don’t know where my manners have gone. I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Beth Cassidy.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “You do?” Did he remember her?

  No, he couldn’t.

  But he supplied no further information. Instead, he stared out the window, squinting in an effort to see through the shower of rain descending on the windshield.

  He stole a quick glance at her. “After I drop you off, I’ll go back and fix your flat.”

  “No thanks, Mr. McKenna. I’ll get someone to drop me back off by the car.

  “Mac.”

  “What?”

  “Mac. Just Mac. Not Mr. McKenna. And suit yourself on the car. I was just trying to help.”

  “Thanks anyway… Mac. I’ll take care of it after the meeting. I do know how to change a tire. I just don’t want to be late to this meeting.” Or show up bedraggled in sopping wet, muddy clothes. She needed to look organized, efficient, and competent.

  Then the hail started, bouncing off the roof of the truck and sounding like God was pouring down buckets of stones on them. Mac pulled the vehicle off the side of the road at a small turnoff that she knew overlooked the town of Sweet River Falls. It also had a steep drop-off. She hoped he knew that. She caught her breath as the truck rolled to a stop near the edge.

  He seemed oblivious to her angst. “Can hardly see anything. Let’s give it a few minutes to let up.”

  She glanced at her watch but realized there was nothing else they could do. It was suicidal to drive on these mountain roads in this storm. Hopefully, it would let up soon. She had to get to that meeting. For the hundredth time, she berated herself for taking the shortcut home from Denver. She had wanted the grant forms signed and didn’t want to wait for them to be mailed. She wanted them in her hands, signed, so she could… Well, so she could show them off at the meeting. Prove that she always had the town’s best interest at heart.

  She’d rushed off to the city and took this supposed shortcut back home. So if she was late to the meeting, it was all her fault. Just one more poor decision in a series of bad decisions she seemed to be making these days.

  Mac turned off the engine and lounged back in the seat. How could he look so relaxed? She reached up and rubbed her temples. The pounding hail reverberated in every muscle, every fiber.

  “How can you just sit there and ignore the noise?” She had to practically shout to get him to hear her.

  “Nothing we can do about it.” His words echoed clearly in the truck even though she was sure he hadn’t increased his volume one bit. His voice was deep, reassuring, and practical, which, truth be told, kind of annoyed her.

  She leaned back in the seat too. Next thing she knew, he’d scooped the box off of her lap and dumped it into the space behind the seat. “Might as well get comfortable.” He shrugged out of his rain slicker and dropped it behind the seat as well.

  “I’m going to be late.”

  “So will everyone else. It’s not just raining on us you know.”

  She glared at him. “Thank you, Mr. Weatherman.”

  “Look, lady. I’m just trying to get you to your meeting. It’s not my fault you had a flat. I didn’t make it rain.” His eyes reflected amusement, not irritation.

  She sighed. “I know. It’s just that this meeting is—”

  “I know. I heard. Important.”

  “Well, it is.” How could he understand her very future may depend on this meeting? Not to mention the future of her mother and a good number of the people in the town. She sounded melodramatic, even to herself, but the meeting was important.

  He nodded but didn’t look like he believed the meeting was life or death. The cad then settled back and watched the rain. The windows fogged over and gave the inside of the truck a feeling of being shut off from the world.

  It was kind of cozy.

  It was kind of scary.

  She was stuck in the middle of nowhere. With a certifiable troublemaker. One who she hadn’t been able to get out her mind in all the years since high school. Well, maybe she was the one who was certifiable.

  Certifiably crazy.

  No one thought about one incident, one teeny tiny encounter with him, that happened all those years ago. He probably didn’t even remember it. Or if he did, he probably didn’t remember it had been her. Why had that one incident from high school stuck in the recesses of her memory for all this time?

  She chanced a quick glance over at him. The years had given a hard edge to the planes of his face. His tanned face gave him the look of a man who liked to be outdoors. Dark black hair curled slightly at the collar of his denim shirt. Just a tad too long to be stylish.

  She quickly turned away before he could catch her staring at him.

  Mac glanced over at Beth. Her honey-brown hair was still long, but not as long as it had been in high school. Today she wore it pulled back in some kind of fancy braid. He watched her fidget uncomfortably in the seat and glance at her watch for about the hundredth time. He’d like to snatch that watch off her wrist and pitch it out the window.

  “Why don’t you just relax? There’s nothing you can do about the storm.”

  She sighed and rolled her shoulders forward and back. “I know. I’m just frustrated.”

  Frustrated? He knew what frustrated meant. Trapped in this truck with her, after all these years. He swiped at the fogged over windows, but it didn’t help. He still couldn’t see a thing, and it didn’t relieve the tension hammering through him. She wasn’t two feet from him. Her skirt was draped casually across her lap, wrapped around the outline of slim, shapely legs. She chewed nervously on her lower lip.

  He was sure she didn’t even remember him. No, correction… she seemed to remember his reputation. He’d seen the instant recognition in her eyes when he’d said his name. She’d looked like she was walking into the lion’s den when she’d climbed in his truck.

  She wiped at a runaway drop of rain that rolled off her damp hair. She reached up to the visor and flipped it down.

  He smothered a grin. “Sorry, no mirror.” She didn’t really think he was the lighted vanity mirror type, did she?

  “Oh. Well, I just thought I might be able to repair some of the damage before I drag into the meeting looking like a drowned rat.”

  Lady, you don’t look anything like a drowned rat. He watched her open her purse and drag out assorted makeup and a tiny mirror. He flipped on the overhead light in the cab of the truck.

  “Thanks.”

  He watched in fascination as she touched here and there on her face with a smattering of pads and wands. When she was finished, she’d removed all trace of rain damage, but he’d be hard-pressed to tell she had any makeup on, except for a trace of lipstick, nearly the color of lips.

  She must have felt his stare. She looked over at him and with obvious, sudden self-consciousness dumped the makeup back in her handbag. Then looked at her watch again. That very same watch he’d wished would die a sudden death. Maybe he could toss it onto the road and roll over it with his truck…

  And why was his side of the truck fogged over so much more than her side? He shifted uncomfortably in the seat.

  “So you said you own a restaurant?” Beth looked over at him with the warmest brown eyes he’d ever seen. No, he’d seen those same eyes before, in the face of a young, innocent, very surprised girl.


  But he knew he hadn’t said one word about what he did. “No. I own a tavern.”

  “Oh, I thought I’d heard it served sandwiches and burgers…”

  “We do. But it’s still just a tavern, a bar. People come to drink. To visit. To hang out. And they sometimes get hungry.” So she’d heard about his business. Undoubtedly it fit in perfectly with her recollection of his reputation.

  She shifted in her seat, and her skirt clung tightly to her left leg, but he ignored it. Kind of.

  Stop it, Mac. Get a grip.

  “And what do you do, Miss Cassidy?” He knew darn well what she did, but conversation seemed like a safe way to spend the time. That or ogle her like some love-starved high school kid.

  “I’m a teacher at Watson Elementary School. I teach third grade.”

  “And the meeting you’re in such a hurry to get to?”

  “Town council meeting. It’s a meet the candidates meeting.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I’m… well, I’m running for mayor.”

  He choked back his surprise. Now that was one thing he hadn’t expected to hear. Beth Cassidy for mayor? Sweet River Falls seemed much more like the good-old-boy, slap-you-on-the-back mayor town.

  “Hm, so probably not the best meeting to miss.”

  She shot him a deadly look. “I’m not going to miss this one. I can’t. They’ll think…” She cut herself off and turned to look out her window.