Challenging Fate

By BJ Kurtz

Just out of college, Morgan instantly found herself orphaned and the guardian of her 14 year old sister, Joanna. When fate brings her to a teaching position in the small Arizona town of Sierra Vista, Morgan thought she could finally piece their lives back together.

But, as they become entangled with the Montgomery family, who have their own haunting history and supernatural talents, she soon realizes the darkness of life can be consuming.

Morgan must uncover the Montgomery's secrets before fate destroys them along with their chance for happiness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BJ Kurtz
• Release date: Sep 7, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311753540

BJ Kurtz

B.J. currently resides in her hometown in Arizona where she enjoys instructing students in high school and college. She discovered her passion for writing while doing weekly writing assignments in the sixth grade and has been hooked on the craft of storytelling ever since. She is an associate member of the Society of Southwestern Authors. For more information about her and any upcoming books, please visit her website: www.bjkurtz.com.

Book preview

Challenging Fate

By: BJ Kurtz

The Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2015 BJ Kurtz

All rights reserved.

Smashwords License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. It may not be resold or given away. If you would like to share this ebook, please purchase an additional copy for each person with whom you want to share it. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, please return to Smashwords and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

* * * * *

This book is a work of fiction. Places, events, and situations in this book are purely fictional and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental

* * * * *

Cover photo by Cari Chlarson & Angela Garcia

Cover design by Adam Kurtz

Editing by Rose Ciccarelli & Jeanne Cadeau

Formatted by Debora Lewis arenapublishing.org

* * * * *

Note: to provide the reader with more of a sample from the actual story, most of the traditional front matter and the Table of Contents appear at the end.

For Angela, because it is your favorite.

Challenging Fate

Chapter One

Joanna Green stood on the front porch of the house. It was a single story, yet dominated the space. The windows vacant of her mother’s curtains, letting any who walked past see the empty walls and space. Throw rugs used to warm the white tile of the living room, but now the space remained cold, even in the eighty degree Colorado summer. The house was hollow… just like Joanna. She pushed back the tears as she grabbed her backpack—stuffed with road trip necessities—and eased the front door shut. The sound echoed for a moment. Jo turned to face the realtor, a chunky woman with blond hair hanging just above her shoulders. The woman smiled sympathetically at her. Joanna grew to hate that look. Friends, acquaintances, strangers… anyone who heard the story gave the same pained look. No words were available in situations like these. There was just that look, reminding Joanna that she was orphaned. Reminding her that this was not normal. She had been robbed.

This is why they had to move, Joanna thought with a frown.

Jo continued without a word past the agent, her sandals clicking against the sidewalk. Morgan leaned against the open door to their dad’s 2007 Dodge Caliber parked in front of the two-car garage. Jo met her sister’s gaze as she approached the car. Her sister was only twenty-four, but the past year had creased her face and darkened her eyes. Her brown hair that normally brushed her mid-back rested in a tight bun, giving it the added appearance of being black. She had their father’s kind, chocolate eyes. Jo could even see her mother’s pointed chin and high cheekbones.

How silly was it to think they could have lived in their parents’ house? Looking back, this outcome was so obvious. They couldn’t live in their hometown when everyone knew. Jo supported her sister’s decision to look for a job in other states. But now? Jo turned around to face the house once more. Only six years ago, brightly colored chalk would have covered that walkway. She could almost see her younger self playing hopscotch… tic-tac-toe… drawing flowers with the neighbors. Now, it stood a grey canvas—void of color.

The porch that used to hold her mother’s flower pots, empty. The green lawn wrapping the house, the tall ash shading the house, the sky blue paint… it all reminded her of people who no longer existed and memories that would fade. How could they move on? How could they try to live their lives when everyone knew what had happened? They could envision what life was like before. Jo met the empathetic gaze of the realtor. Like she was looking at some old dog on the way to be put down. Even in a city of almost half a million… it felt like everyone knew.

Too many know how good our life was and how much it sucks now, Jo thought, continuing her journey to the car. Morgan had told her they couldn’t blame everyone for their pity. But pity is a heavy weight to bear. And that look… that look was a constant jab in the gut. How sad for the two girls… orphaned. How could they stay here? It wasn’t the same, and it never would be.

Jo lifted her chin. She gripped the cold handle of the passenger door, opening it as she gazed at her sister. If it weren’t for the age difference, many would mistake them for twins. Jo knew that drove her decision to chop all of her hair off at her chin two years ago.

The smile Morgan gave was kind, but only a fraction of what it was before. Are you ready?

Jo hesitated, taking one last look at the hollow house. The empty house seemed fitting. It finally matched the atmosphere. She forced a smile for her sister’s sake. Absolutely.

It didn’t take them long to enter onto I-25, traveling south. Morgan, a normally self-proclaimed speed-demon, drove just under the limit. Jo had noticed the emergence of her conservative nature shortly after the accident. They switched onto I-40 in Albuquerque. Jo looked for the mountain ranges that had always surrounded her childhood. Instead, she saw stretches of desert before her. She dozed her way into the city of Flagstaff, Arizona, a glimmer of the pines she had just left. After over ten hours of driving, they checked into a hotel for the night.

The next morning, they descended down I-17 a thousand feet at a time out of the mountains and into the Arizona heat. She leaned her head against the car seat watching the forest of saguaros welcoming them into the desert floor of Phoenix. Their car felt more like a casserole dish resting in an oven as Morgan maneuvered the I-10 traffic, but the blast of the AC still felt like freedom. This was definitely different. And the entire state did not know her or her story. She hadn’t felt this light in a long time.

They passed city after city in the middle of the endless desert before slowly climbing hills again. The ranges reminded her of the mountains she loved, only on a miniature scale. Desert grasses and tan mountains replaced the cacti by the time they exited I-10 at Benson. In late afternoon with white, puffy clouds scattering the blue sky, they traveled their last thirty minutes. The time crawled as they inched closer to the city, surrounded by a solitary mountain range to the south. Finally, they saw the Welcome to Sierra Vista sign on the side of the highway. This was it. Jo looked around, noticing the lack of skyscrapers. Jo gave an audible sigh. It’s a small town. Great.

The car weaved through a few empty side streets until Morgan finally found the apartment complex nestled amongst pines, obviously non-native given a wild cactus happily grew on the other side of the street. Once Morgan organized the lease with management, they parked in one of the many lots wrapping the property.

Jo opened the door and dry air rushed against her. The clouds were condensing above her, but the city still looked dry. The grass growing in front of the management building was the only thing green she had seen for hours… and yet it looked unnatural against the miles of tan she had just traveled. They began lugging their bags up the stone staircase to the second level. A basketball echoed against the walls around the corner, the kids’ voices following right behind. Birds chirped above her as she grabbed the next load from the car. She was starting to notice how heavy the air felt, void of the crispness she was used to.

About the sixth trip up the concrete steps leading to their apartment, Jo knew God did indeed hate her. She dropped the box on the living room floor and gasped.

Careful, she heard her sister scold from behind.

I am not going back down there, Jo announced, rapidly pulling on her shirt to fan her body.

Morgan smiled, laying her box on the kitchen counter. Good, because this was the last of it, so the trip would be pointless.

Jo looked around the apartment and frowned. The living room/kitchen/dining room was about the size of her old bedroom. Doors on opposite walls faced each other. One led to the master bedroom while the other led to the second bedroom. The only bathroom held two doors, one leading into the master bedroom and one into the kitchen. So much for privacy. The white walls seemed stained with yellow and the carpet reflected years of dirty shoes. Morgan had turned on the AC, but the air still held the staleness of vacancy.

Morgan laughed. What’s wrong?

Jo stared at her for a moment, then whined, It smells.

Morgan took a deep breath, as if testing the air, before she shrugged. It smells like air.

Yeah, she said, like shared air.

"It’s not like someone used the air before you." Morgan said, collapsing the cardboard box she had just unpacked.

Jo wrinkled her nose. Like you would know.

Look, it’s all we can afford right now.

Why couldn’t you become an engineer or something? Why’d you have to be a teacher?

Morgan opened a box and began unloading white plates with dainty flowers painted on the edges. We don’t do it for the pay.

That’s a stupid answer, Jo said, taking her sister’s lead and moving her bags into her new room. Jo groaned when she entered. This room made the front look like a mansion. She could probably cross it in four steps. The walls were so close, Jo knew they would close in and crush her in her sleep.

Think of it as a warm-up for your college years, she heard her sister’s voice holler from the other room. She didn’t know why her sister had raised her voice. It wasn’t like they were very far apart. I had the best time in some of the worst apartments ever built.

Didn’t you have a roommate who was murdered? Jo asked, re-emerging from the hideous room.

No, he was a stranger who lived eight doors down.

Same difference, Jo said with a shiver.

Morgan stopped putting away the few plates they brought and stared at her sister, propping a hand against the speckled countertop. Make you a deal. If anyone gets murdered here, then we’ll move. She forced a smile typically used when her patience was about to break.

Jo scoffed. Like they could murder someone. There wouldn’t be anyone left in the town if they did.

Morgan clattered a few plates together as she lifted them from the box. The town’s not that much smaller than home. She paused. And you agreed to leave.

Jo shook her head. I know, but…

Morgan smiled, softening her gaze. I know. She hesitated before continuing to unload. Don’t worry, she said, obviously trying to keep her voice upbeat. The movers will be here tomorrow morning. We can make this place feel warm and welcoming. It’ll be better.

Jo looked out the window. It overlooked a courtyard of pine trees and grass with cement benches. All were foreign to her… even the pines. She could feel the tears burn her eyes. This will make me not miss them? she asked, hearing the plea in her voice.

Morgan put the last plate in the cupboard. Jo heard her approach from behind. Morgan wrapped her arms around her, resting a chin on Jo’s shoulder. It’s good to miss them. But maybe all the changes will help us miss them without it hurting.

The yellow tint to the walls called out to her, scuff marks on the baseboards magnifying the worn carpet. She forced all of these images aside as she said, Then let’s make this place feel less horrific.

Morgan laughed. Okay.

They worked well into the night, putting away all they had brought with them. They blew up the large air mattress and slept in the middle of the living room. Jo closed her eyes, letting her sister wrap her arms around her. Her sister’s touch comforted the ache in her chest. And, if Jo stretched her imagination hard enough, she could feel her mother’s touch. The thought comforted her until sleep finally overcame her body.

Chapter Two

Jo could feel every ray of the sun beating down, digging into her skin. The afternoon cloud cover did nothing to block the assault. Even as she felt her skin roast like a chicken, she refused to give her sister the satisfaction of going back inside. So, she sat on the concrete bench in the apartment building’s courtyard. It wasn’t much to look at. The thin pine trees offered limited shade and small flowerbeds overflowed with desert flowers blooming purple and yellow. Not a picture worth framing.

Morgan had spent the morning screaming at the movers, who showed up late and with broken furniture they swore was broken before they moved it. Apparently, arguing with movers put her in a mood unwilling to deal with Jo’s gripes about the dinky apartment. Two yelling matches later, Jo grabbed a book and marched to the courtyard. Morgan said something about sunscreen, to which Jo replied, Bite me.

Jo looked down at the blush patches forming on her arm. She couldn’t go back inside. She refused to give her sister the satisfaction. Instead, bored with her book, Jo just sat on the bench and stared at the sky. Most clouds she had seen before were masses billowing into the valley. She had never been able to watch clouds form before. Yet, the more she sat, the more she watched them gather and darken. Sweat dripped down her face. Her pout was useless. But she was still justified in her decision. Morgan was out of control and needed to know it.

From across the lawn, Jo heard a male voice say, Randy can go to hell. She sat up, watching two boys emerge from a first-floor apartment. One was short with thick glasses and red hair. The other was tall with sandy-blond hair and sharp blue eyes.

The redhead shut the door, checking to make sure it was locked, then whined, Come on, Charley. I hate when you two fight.

Charley smirked. You sound like a girl.

I ain’t no girl! But you two go at it every week, and it gets old.

As they walked toward the parking lot, he looked in Jo’s direction. She immediately sat up straight, hoping she didn’t look too ragged. His observation didn’t last long before he focused back at his friend and disappeared around the corner.

Joanna!

Jo jumped at the sound of her sister’s voice and turned to face the apartment.

Her sister stood at the rail. She had wrapped her head with a white cloth, her jeans torn at the knees. She looked more like a maid than a teacher. Pouting time is over. You need to do your share.

I’m resting.

Morgan’s lips formed a thin line. Don’t mess with me. Not today. Now get up here and help me unpack. School starts next week, and there is still a lot of stuff to do. I don’t want to have boxes here come October.

Jo cringed. Her sister had the same tone she had heard in her mother’s voice many times. She picked up her book, stood, and made her way back to the apartment.

Jo thought of unpacking the apartment as she sat in the bathroom of the high school. The previous week flew by, and before she knew it, Jo found herself standing on a street corner that overlooked the large high school building. She had refused to come to school with her sister, preferring instead to take the bus. Morgan just shrugged, but seemed to understand. Now, Jo sat examining the carvings in the blue stall, some creatively vile. It smelled like old waste and flowery Glade. But the carvings couldn’t distract her nerves. She was starting over. She was so clearly alone and now she was sitting in the bathroom hiding from reality.

Jo was glad they hadn’t arrived in the middle of the school year. Everyone’s settled in by then, and new students come in under a spotlight. Instead, Jo could just blend into the back of the classroom—just one of the thirty people occupying plastic chairs. She had been head of the cheer squad at her middle school back home. If that taught her anything, it was how catty girls could be. She didn’t want the drama anymore. She just wanted to be a fly on the wall… there had to be a song about that.

Every freshman had to find their own place, which comforted her. Whenever some loner got that desperate do-you-want-to-be-my-friend look, Jo knew it was time to leave. In freshman science, the teacher decided to allow students to form groups, ones they’d have for the rest of the semester. Jo sat in the corner, hoping for an odd number of students in the classroom. Please, she thought, God, please just grant me this one wish.

Her prayers fell into oblivion. The instructor, a woman in her sixties, who looked a lot like Aunt Bea on The Andy Griffith Show (only with shorter hair) stood up in front of the class with a small chipmunk girl wearing glasses too big for even a granny. Does anyone still need a partner?

Jo bit her lower lip. I’m due for a favor, she thought grimly.

We have twenty-eight students in here, so someone else must need a partner.

Jo groaned, slowly raising her hand.

Oh, good. There you are, Sarah.

Sarah skipped over as if Jo had personally picked her.

The girl plopped down. Hi, I’m Sarah.

Jo forced a smile, trying to focus back on the teacher.

I’m so happy we’re partnered together. I’m sure we’ll have lots of fun. I love science.

Jo desperately tried not to roll her eyes. I’ve done something, she thought. The universe was definitely out to destroy her. About halfway through the class, Jo had learned that Sarah was an only child with a cat, two dogs, and a ferret. She had grown up in this town, but her parents came from somewhere else. Jo knew everything she would ever want to know about this girl, along with some things she never wanted to think of again. (Some people still made fun of her for eating glue, but she really didn’t!)

Jo shot her arm in the air and asked to go to the bathroom. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but every time she thought of going back Sarah’s beady, magnified eyes came into view, and Joanna decided to stay within the confines of the stall. Maybe she could say she got lost.

When the door to the restroom screeched, Jo didn’t think much of it. She only half worried it was Sarah come to see if she was okay. When she heard a male voice, instinct caused her to pull her legs up to her chest.

She saw five pairs of shoes stop in front of the sinks.

Are you sure no one’s in here? one girl said, her commando boots approaching the stall.

No one’s come in here for almost fifteen minutes, a boy with a squeaky voice said.

Jo winced. She was going to be in such trouble when she got back.

You watch the girl’s bathroom in your spare time? another male voice teased, shuffling his bright blue tennis shoes away from the group.

Both of you shut up. We haven’t much time. Jo thought she recognized this voice as the one belonging to the blue-eyed boy at the apartment building. Whoever he was, he was wearing black and white Adidas shoes. Why the secret meeting?

There’s something wrong with Rebecca, Miss Black Army Boots said.

What do you mean? Mr. Squeaky said.

She’s all leave-me-alone, a girl said, her pink flip-flops slapping her heels as she walked. When we try to talk to her, she walks away. Something happened over the summer.

Jo strained against the cramp forming in her legs.

Maybe she thinks she’s too cool for you, Mr. Squeaky insisted.

Yeah, the boy with blue tennis shoes said. Why does it have to be so dramatic?

Jo tried shifting position.

Look, she stopped talking to us this summer, like she thought she was better than all of us, Adidas said. "Now you’re surprised she ignores us? Don’t get me wrong, I’ll take every advantage to skip Mr. Oranski’s algebra class, but you need more to go on than feelings if you call an emergency meeting."

Charley’s right, Mr. Squeaky said. She ditched us a long time ago.

"This is different. She’s not hanging out with anyone. She’s completely isolated like an Emo or something, Pink Flip-flops said as she walked toward the mirror. I know she messed up this summer. But she’s been with us since the fourth grade. She helped you raise money to go to camp. And you… when your mom got sick, who came over to help you maintain the house while your dad worked two jobs? We owe her."

Go ask that football player she was seeing over the summer, Blue Shoes suggested.

Jo shifted position once more, only this time she lost balance and fell backward, her arm hitting the flush valve. She flinched as the toilet flush echoed against the tile walls.

Dangit, Randy, The voice she recognized shouted. Didn’t you check the stalls?

She saw his Adidas sneakers approach the stall. His banging rattled the door.

Let’s go, come out!

Jo stood, tried to adjust her clothes, and with chin in the air, opened the door.

Familiar blue eyes met her gaze; the boy from the apartment complex. Jo tried not to let her disappointment show. Not the first impression she really wanted to make.

Enjoy your eavesdropping?

You’re the one having a conversation in the girl’s bathroom.

He frowned.

What do we do now? asked pink flip-flop girl, who had on worn jeans (and not in a fashionable way) and an over-washed pink shirt. Not quite as preppy as Jo expected.

Charley smiled. Nothing. She doesn’t know anything. He looked back at his friends. Let’s go.

Charley left last, giving her one last glance before exiting the bathroom. Only when the door slammed shut did Jo let go of her breath. She gathered herself, shook her head, and grabbed her plastic pass. She had to get back before she received a referral to the office on the first day of school.

Chapter Three

Morgan sat at a small circular table in the coffee shop. She breathed deeply, taking in the rich smell of coffee. She loved that smell. It comforted her. Yet, she didn’t dare take a cup at this time in the afternoon. Morgan glanced at her watch. Jo should still be at the after school art club meeting, that gave her at least another twenty minutes to decompress at the café.

The students’ papers sat in front of her, bleeding red ink. She loved journalism in school. But jobs were hard to come by in what was slowly becoming a dying art form. She strayed into the teaching field, wanting to share her love with others, foster their dreams, and watch them soar. Days like this, she began wondering if watching students massacre the subject she loved really was what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. Morgan leaned back and put the palms of her hands against her eye sockets.

The café was pretty small. It actually was a wide hallway resting between two sets of doors leading into the library. Glass windows lined the side, helping to ward off claustrophobia. A coffee grinder pulverized whole beans for someone’s order. A glass case below the register at the front held scones and pastries. Despite the small space, the café attracted a diverse clientele, ranging from teens hanging out, to business people relaxing after a long day, to retirees catching up with friends. People filled the small tables that lined the wall.

One couple caught her eye. They were elderly, sitting together at a corner table. They looked content, like a picture on a Hallmark card celebrating a landmark anniversary. The sight made Morgan’s lower lip tremble. She looked away. How had she and Jo ended up here? One minute she was searching for jobs in Texas. The next, she was orphaned, raising her teenage sister. There was no other decision when it came to Jo. They didn’t have any relatives nearby. The last time they