Where the Heart Leads

By TJ Yeomans

A third-generation teacher, Amelia suddenly finds herself raising her ten-year-old sister after their parents are killed in a tragic accident. Only her younger sister Toni is no “sweetheart” and rebels against the changes in her life. Thankfully Marty, a fellow teacher, befriends Amelia as she struggles with the responsibilities of parenting.

Toni’s behavior was only part of Amelia’s trouble, for the aunts are determined to take charge of the girls’ lives.

When Marty and his daughter Reyna need to find a new place to live, Amelia opens her family home. As their lives begin to intertwine, the couple discover love. Quickly the pre-teens realize the new romance, and begin to wage a war against the union, but they weren’t the only ones. The aunts also find this new development unacceptable and work to discredit Marty to the patriarch of the family.

With courage and strength, Amelia and Marty stand their ground. But will it be enough?

• Language: English
• Publisher: TJ Yeomans
• Release date: Jul 7, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370096152

TJ Yeomans

Having a vivid imagination as a child, I began putting my ideas on paper in 2000. Since then I’ve had a lot of fun working with my characters as they tell their story. Now it’s time for them to venture out into the world for readers to enjoy. When I’m not at the keyboard, you can find me playing with fabrics to create fun and colorful quilts and other sewing projects.

Book preview

Where the Heart Leads

Copyright 2017 T.J. Yeomans

Published by T.J. Yeomans at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

A special thanks to all those who helped with the editing process.

And especially to my son Jason for the cover.

Also to my mom, MaryAnn who gave this book its title.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

CHAPTER 1

SHE NEARLY BOBBLED THE TRAY as greedy hands snatched at its contents. Antoinette, Amelia cried as her kid sister stuffed a huge chunk of watermelon in her mouth.

Toni, the ten-year-old shouted around the food, then made another grab for more fruit. When her sister pulled the tray out of reach, Toni complained. Come on May. Relenting, Amelia lowered it. Snagging what she wanted, in an ornery mood, Toni rearranged what was left. Succeeding in ticking her older sister off, she grinned before racing across the freshly mowed lawn.

When anyone first looked at the two of them, Amelia and Antoinette Benasutti could have easily passed as mother and daughter. Both had thick rich dark-brown hair which was offset by their dark-brown Italian eyes. Since they both loved the outdoors, the sun always enriched the bronze coloring of their skin. The only difference was Amelia was stocky by nature, whereas Toni was as skinny as a rail.

Shaking her head, Amelia wondered what possessed her mother to give her girls' such formal names if she had no intention of using them. Setting the tray on the large picnic table in the backyard, Amelia tried to repair the damage.

Mama, she complained when Emma walked up. You have to talk to Antoinette. She needs to start acting like a young lady. Emma simply shook with silent laughter at her eldest’s protest. It’s not funny. Look at what she did.

Patience, May, her mother said, using Amelia’s childhood nickname. She’s only ten.

Going on two, Amelia muttered as her mother sighed.

God forbid if anything ever happened to me or your father.

You know I’d take care of her. Then it was Amelia who laughed. I might strangle her from time to time to keep her in line, but I’d take care of her.

Wanting to shift the subject, Emma asked. So how are your classes going? She saw Amelia’s hesitation. You are taking classes, aren’t you?

Sure she is. The ones we talked about, her father said joining the conversation. Anthony was a tall man with broad shoulders. Once his mind was made up, it was hard getting around him.

At thirty-one, Amelia felt she should have a say in the way her life ran. After all, she’d been on her own and making her way since graduating college. A fifth grade teacher since falling into her teaching position at twenty-six, she should know where her career was going. Loving the classroom, Amelia was having a hard time staying there. Her family had other plans for her. Emma had made principal at the same age as Amelia was now. If that wasn’t the only thing to contend with, her father was head of the English Department at Del Mort High.

Right? her father repeated, studying his daughter while waiting for an answer.

Not exactly, Amelia replied, feeling the same age as her kid sister. She could see the disappointment in her mother’s eyes and felt the annoyance emanating from her father. But damn it, it was her life. Clearing her throat, Amelia spoke her mind. I did take a class out at the college this semester to help with my teaching. They were offering one which focuses on making it in the mainstream of a classroom.

Sounds interesting, Amelia’s grandfather said. Though Marcus Simone’s hair had gone slate gray, he still was a robust man in his mid-seventies. Amelia’s mother was his youngest. Retired as an assistant super-intendant of schools, Marcus had always encouraged his children to go far. A third generation teacher, Amelia had earned Teacher of the Year, for two years running. Will you use what you learn in your classroom? he asked his granddaughter. Sighing with gratitude, Amelia knew by his tone, both her parents would back off. Eager to share, Amelia escaped with the old man.

Patting her hand, he said gently, You need to go where your heart leads you. Leaning on his shoulder, Amelia was pleased that at least one person in her family understood.

SHORTLY PEOPLE STARTED TO ARRIVE at the Benasutti’s, for it was their annual Labor Day party. It had been a tradition for as far back as anyone could remember. Friends and family gathered at the house for one last blast right around the beginning of school. Slightly annoyed, Emma scanned the crowd for her eldest. Though she wouldn’t air family problems, Emma knew for the time being Amelia would keep her distance. Cornering her grown daughter had been tricky.

I don’t want to fight with you, her mother said, as she caught Amelia coming out of the house, arms loaded with hamburger buns. One of the uncles who’d been manning the grill had sent her into the kitchen for more supplies.

Then let it be, mama, Amelia replied softly. I’m happy where I am, she stated, at least where her career was concerned.

At that moment Toni let out a huge whoop. Tearing across the lawn, she wrapped her arms around a girl of about the same age. After a quick exchange of words, the two took off.

That’s your sister’s new teacher, Emma said coyly, Mr. Phillips.

Following her mother’s gaze, Amelia saw a man standing by himself. From the direction he was looking, he’d obviously been deserted by his daughter. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and was nicely built. The gentle breeze was playfully tossing the long sandy brown hair surrounding a narrow face.

Come on, I’ll introduce you, Emma said, but Amelia wasn’t in the mood to meet new people, especially if he was of the male species. With tact, she made herself scarce, for her experiences with men hadn’t been very fruitful as of late.

IT HAD TAKEN SOME DOING, but she’d managed to avoid meeting Toni’s new teacher. At home, Amelia looked over her lesson plans for the first day of school. Pausing, she let her mind wander and began stewing over the last few months. For almost five years, Amelia had lived with Davis Walker. Who names their kid Davis? she muttered to herself as Amelia continued to set up more packets. On Friday, she had been informed two more children would be joining her already crowded classroom. The work was mundane, leaving her room to think.

The simple truth was, she had awakened one morning realizing she no longer loved the man sleeping beside her. When she had asked him to move out, Davis hadn’t protested. Looking around the living room in her townhouse, she had to admit he had been decent about the breakup. He had taken the TV, which she rarely watched, but left her the stereo. Since he hated to cook, Davis had left her all the small appliances, but had taken all exercise equipment they had accumulated together. Thank God, she said out loud. At least she didn’t have to listen to him nag her about physical fitness. Still one would think with the man gone, she’d be pleased, but in reality Amelia was lonely.

In her classroom the next day at Sherwood Elementary, Amelia was ready to start a new year. As her twenty-eight students took their seats, Amelia knew she’d reach some and not others. Hopefully, she’d see the majority of them do their best to excel.

Time seemed to fly by and before long they were through September with thoughts turning towards Halloween and the upcoming holidays. Such was the case as Amelia stood in her mother’s kitchen layering lasagna noodles in a pan. And then he pulls this big snake out of its cage, which caused two of my girls to faint, Amelia told her mother as she went over the reptile lesson they were covering in class.

Oh gross, Toni complained before shifting the conversation. Reyna is coming? she all but demanded.

Yes, Emma said, smiling sweetly.

Quickly Amelia caught the light tone of her mother’s voice. Mama, she warned.

Reyna’s father is joining us for dinner, Emma explained matter-of-factly.

Grinding her teeth, Amelia started to speak when the doorbell rang. I’ll get it, Toni shouted before tearing from the room. Then a few seconds later, the two adults could hear the girls running up to Toni’s room.

That child, Emma muttered and went to see what had become of her other guest. Saying nothing, Amelia was sure her mother was up to playing matchmaker. Come right in Marty. My daughter May is here, Emma said casually, before making introductions.

Being polite, Amelia nodded, continuing with dinner preparations. Why don’t you open that lovely bottle of wine you brought and let it breathe so we can enjoy it with our meal. Pulling an opener out, Emma insisted Marty do the honors.

Curiosity had Amelia glancing at her mother’s guests as she ladled the last layer of sauce into the large baking dish. Brushing her daughter aside, Emma finished up and slid their dinner in the oven. This should be ready in about forty minutes. It’s a lovely evening, why don’t you two take a walk? When the two younger adults only stood still, Emma took their hands, leading them to the back sliding glass door. Go on, get some fresh air, and don’t be late for dinner.

Seeing they were trapped, Amelia led the way to the front of the house and down the driveway to the road. Since her family’s home was on the outskirts of town, the street they lived on had little to no traffic.

Following in silence, Marty found himself curious about Emma’s daughter. May? he asked wanting to start up a conversation.

Short for Amelia, she said quickly. Glancing over, she saw his eyebrow raise. Mama and my aunts are the only ones who call me May. I prefer Amelia.

Nodding he understood, Marty chuckled. So what has your mother told you about me?

Shoving her hands into her pocket, Amelia hedged. That you’re my sister’s teacher and you’re a nice man. Over the last two weekends, Emma had said several things about the man walking beside her. Many of them on a positive note, but Amelia wasn’t comfortable repeating them.

Don’t believe everything you hear, he added as they continued to walk. A lot of people think I’m something special because I’m raising my daughter without a mother. The truth is, I’m a single dad, just trying to do my best with life. When Amelia didn’t comment, he decided to color the picture of himself with a taste