Stoneridge

By Michael W. Newton Jr.

After months of hard work and preparation, their longawaited dreams were finally coming to fruition. It was opening day at the Stoneridge Inn Bed and Breakfast, and Roger and Catherines first guests were about to arrive. They knew that this weekend marked the start of their new lives, but they had no idea how the horrors of this weekend would change their lives forever and open their eyes to a spiritual world that they never knew existed. And what of their guests, will they survive their weekend getaway to the Stoneridge?

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Sep 19, 2012
• ISBN: 9781449764258

Michael W. Newton Jr.

Michael W. Newton, Jr. lives in Jasper, in the foothills of the north Georgia mountains, with his wife and children, where he hopes to continue writing and serving Christ in his local church.

Book preview

Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy.

John 10:10

He replied, This kind [of demon] can come out only by prayer.

Mark 9:29

One

I love mornings like this Catherine said as she looked out the kitchen window while making final preparations for the arriving guests. Turning this old house into a Bed and Breakfast was the best idea we ever had. She turned her head to look out the window just in time to see a brief flurry of activity, there is nothing better than watching the blue jays, cardinals, and humming birds playing in the garden with the backdrop of fall colors on the trees.

Catherine Stone was a stunningly beautiful woman of about fifty with chestnut brown hair, with just a hint of grey and mesmerizing hazel eyes. She had inherited the house from her grandfather when he passed away ten years earlier. The house had been built by her grandfather around the turn of the century as a wedding gift to her grandmother but had remained empty for the last three years of her grandfather’s life, as he had to live with family closer to his doctors in Atlanta. She and her husband, Roger, had been living in Tampa since graduating college. There they pursued the American dream together- Roger, managing a local distribution company and Catherine, teaching third grade at the local elementary school. The old house was where Catherine spent many of her summers as she was growing up. She had always looked forward to helping her grandmother bake pies and make fruit preserves or listening to her grandfather tell stories about the native Americans and the early settlers who once inhabited the area. After the death of her grandmother, Catherine spent as much time as she could with her grandfather. In her mind, she was doing her part to take care of him the way her grandmother did, which she continued until she went away to college.

When her grandfather passed away, the house was willed to Catherine and she and Roger began using it as a weekend getaway, occasionally bringing friends with them to enjoy the peace, quiet, and trout fishing of the North Georgia Mountains. About a hundred yards down the trail behind the house was a pristine trout stream where it has been said that the state record rainbow was caught; of course, the record was unofficial, and it was granddad that made that claim. Roger would take his friends down to the stream and teach them some of the tricks of trout fishing that Catherine’s grandfather had taught him. They would usually bring the catch back (if there were enough) and have a fish fry out on the back deck and then play a few games of canasta, unless of course, the guys won in which case there would only be one game!

Though it may sound like a cliché, the world really did seem to move at a slower pace there. There were no large malls or office parks; as a matter of fact, there were only two traffic lights in town. The only major retail store was nearly thirty miles away, and that suited the towns’ people just fine. They liked doing business with the people that they grew up with or had watched grow up.

Those things are beautiful, dear, but they pale in comparison to watching you enjoy them, Roger said in reply to Catherine’s statement about the birds, catching her off guard as she thought she was in the kitchen alone. Roger had always had a way with words when it came to Catherine, which was, after all, how he had won her over in college. He had always been a little shy around girls. He was the kind of guy who always stayed off to the side and watched other guys get the girl, feeling as if he would never be good looking enough or smart enough or cool enough to deserve a girlfriend at all, much less one as beautiful as Catherine. He had watched her from afar their freshman and sophomore years, but in their junior year he found himself not only in the same class, but sitting next to her, and lucky for Roger, she had forgotten her pen. Every time he looked at her, he remembered just how large that lump in his throat had been when she asked him if he had an extra pen she could use. Roger couldn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth when he told her it would cost her fifty cents to rent one for the day or a dollar a week. He had wanted to crawl under the table with embarrassment at how corny that response was! Two years of dreaming of this moment and that was the best I could come up with? His embarrassment was obvious, but Catherine had found it endearing because this was a guy who was clearly enamored with her and sincerity is always more attractive than a guy who uses practiced lines and thought he was doing the girl a favor by even acknowledging her. She had decided to take the weekly rental plan and the two soon became inseparable. Twenty-eight years later they find themselves in the mountains of North Georgia opening a bed and breakfast just in time for the peak of the fall leaf color change and the annual migration of Atlanta city folk to take in nature’s last big show before winter.

Are you ready for our guests to arrive? Catherine asked.

Almost, Mr. Samples is at the end of the road hanging the sign so they will know where to turn in. The Stone Ridge Inn, I love the way that sounds. Glad I thought of that.

"Glad you thought of that? I believe that was my idea, thank you! If I’m not mistaken, I believe that you wanted to call it The Pine Holler Hotel. I’m sure that would have offended none of the locals, and even if they weren’t, I’m sure we would have attracted the wrong kind of guest. The last thing we need is secret identities and jealous spouses to have to deal with."

Alright, you’ve made your point. You’re right! The Pine Holler Hotel does have a kind of low class ring to it. Do you have the rooms ready, especially the honeymoon suite? We can’t have our first set of newlyweds sleeping in sub-standard accommodations.

Not only are all the rooms ready, I sweetened up the honeymoon suite with satin sheets and covered the bed with rose petals; I also have a chilled bottle of wine waiting for them by the bed. In the bathroom I left an assortment of aromatherapy candles and another bucket of rose petals beside the jetted tub. I only hope they don’t need their sheets changed daily because those are the only satin sheets we have at the moment and they came out of our private collection, because the sheets I ordered haven’t arrived yet, Catherine informed Roger.

Hey Mr. Samples, how are you coming with the check list? Roger asked.

The sign is hung and that leak in the basement is fixed. What do you have next on the list, Mr. and Mrs. Stone? asked Mr. Samples.

Joshua Samples was a kind, older gentleman of about sixty. He had lived alone for the past couple of years since his wife, Samantha, died of a sudden stroke. Mr. Samples had been the rough and rowdy type most of his life and would have died because of his lifestyle if it had not been for Samantha’s efforts to keep him in line. She was what some people called the salt of the earth. Joshua and Samantha had been together since high school. Joshua was your typical redneck, and she was what passed for middle class in those parts. He was always in trouble for fighting or smoking or something else of the sort, and she found him irresistible (probably because her daddy hated his kind and was always very strict with his daughters). After the first year of marriage, Samantha began to understand what her parents had always taught her about faith in God and became one of the most faithful members of the local Baptist church. This was something that Joshua, however, wanted no part of. He liked drinking his beer and using strong language with his friends, but he loved and respected her enough not to do it in her presence or to allow his friends to do so either. It has been said that he punched his best friend in the face one time just for slipping up and using the D word in front of her. Samantha would often tell her beloved Joshua about salvation through Jesus and the wonders of heaven, and a Sunday never went by that she didn’t make sure that he was awake in time for church, just on the off chance that this might be the day that he would finally agree to go. She never got to see him walk through the doors of that church, but on the day she died, that was the first place he went. He did not, however, go in search of God to repent; he went looking for a fight with the almighty, and a fight he got.

Joshua went straight to the pastor’s office and demanded to know how God could take a saint like her. Pastor Kincaid tried to speak rationally, understanding that Joshua was in deep pain and had never been a Christian, even in the nominal sense. There was no calming, much less consoling him, and once Joshua began using his harsh language inside the church, Pastor Kincaid asked him politely to stop cussing like that or to please step outside where they could continue the conversation. Pastor Kincaid had unknowingly said the wrong thing to someone like Joshua. To step outside meant to fight and that was just what he wanted to hear. If he couldn’t fight God, Pastor Kincaid would have to do. The only problem was that Joshua didn’t know Pastor Kincaid or his past.

Pastor Kincaid, before becoming a Christian, had spent twelve years as a Navy Seal, an amateur martial arts tournament fighter, and a full time police officer somewhere around Charlotte N.C. Suffice it to say that when they got outside and Joshua swung at the Pastor, well, let’s just say it was all over for poor old Joshua. And after Pastor Kincaid finished apologizing and cleaning Joshua up, Joshua was more than happy to sit and hear the plan of salvation one more time. But, this time it hit home. Joshua, from that day forward, became the man of God that Samantha had prayed for all those years. Today, when he is not helping the Stones get the house ready for guests, he finds ways to share the gospel with whoever will listen, just like Samantha used to do with him.

So Mr. Jacobs, how long till we arrive at this Stone Ridge Inn? asked Brianna.

Less than an hour, Mrs. Jacobs, replied Jason to his new bride of one week.

Less than one hour till we are bathing in ticks, mosquitoes, spiders, and all sorts of other strange creatures that may fly into my hair at any moment.

You got your week at the beach in Savannah where you could lay out in the sun, go shopping, visit historical sites, and stay in a four star suite just like we agreed. Week two of our honeymoon extraordinaire was my choice. Besides, I don’t think this place will be as bad as you think. They have some of the same accommodations that the hotel had but with a much more natural setting. Just give it a chance, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.

Don’t be so sensitive; I was only kidding. I’m sure it will be wonderful. My parents took us to the mountains once or twice on camping trips, and we had a very nice time.

I don’t think that the Holiday Inn in Pigeon Forge counts as camping in the mountains.

Very funny. You are hilarious, you know that?

Yeah, so I’ve been told.

Brianna, Brie, and Jason Jacobs met three years ago in college. They were both struggling in the same sociology class and found that studying together made the ordeal easier to endure (although they both still only skimmed by with D averages). They never officially dated in school, only hung out together not knowing that they were both secretly longing to be more than just friends. They each dated other people but neither of them would make a commitment, hoping that one day they would end up together.

Jason grew up on the north side of Atlanta in the city of Roswell. He had been on his high school football team, and that naturally made him pretty popular. The Jacobs were your typical middle class family trying to work their way up to being an upper class family. As a result, Jason spent a lot of time alone as an only child with mostly absent parents. Even when they were home, they were away in effect in their home offices trying to advance their careers further. Jason’s childhood was not entirely bleak, however; he had lots of friends in the neighborhood and at school and took part in as many extracurricular activities as he could fit into his schedule. But, despite all his friends and activities, the best times he could remember were spent with his uncle camping and hiking in the Appalachian Mountains. One summer he and his uncle hiked from the start of the Appalachian Trail at Amicalola Falls all the way into Tennessee. That may not have been a large feat for some people, and Jason didn’t even remember how long it had taken, but he did remember every story his uncle told him by the camp fire, every waterfall and wild animal they saw, and how his uncle seemed to know the name of every tree and plant in those mountains. Now, whenever Jason felt the stress of the world catching up to him or when he would just like some time alone, he would strap on a backpack, pick up his favorite walking stick, take a day off work to make a long weekend, and find a new hiking trail on a new mountain and try to remember the names of all the trees in the forest.

Brianna Dawson grew up in Atlanta’s prestigious Buckhead district. Her parents were both savvy investors who managed to work as much time in with their children as they possibly could. They would often take extended family vacations down to various coastal cities along the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico. She always loved the sound of the gulls early in the morning and the waves crashing on the beach at night. She didn’t even mind the various intrusions of the sand as long as she could eat fresh seafood every night. She had had her first romantic rendezvous on a beach in Destin, Florida, when she was fourteen with a young man from somewhere in Alabama who was also there on vacation with his family. It was all very innocent, of course, never going any farther than holding hands while walking along the beach at sunset, but at the time, love couldn’t have been any better. High school, for Brianna, was as different as her home life had been from Jason’s. Brianna never had any interest in sports or cheerleading or drama club or any of those other things many of the kids did after school. She was quite content to go home, read a book, or help her mother cook supper. Brianna had a few close friends, but none of them were in the in crowd. For the most part, she was just an ordinary plain Jane with a B average; she was not a geek, but certainly not the center of attention. After graduation Brie decided it was time for a change. She saved all the money she could from her part-time job, and just before she left for college, she went through a complete image makeover. She was determined that college would not be as dull as high school, and after meeting Jason it wasn’t.

They met at the beginning of their junior year through some mutual friends. They tried to play it cool around each other, but they couldn’t stand to not be in each other’s presence. They memorized each other’s schedule without letting the other know so that they could run into each other coincidently.

After graduation, Jason would often invite himself over to Brie’s apartment to scout out where she was applying for jobs when she wasn’t looking so that he would know what cities to apply in. Ultimately, they each only had one job offer in the same city. The rest of their offers were not only in different cities, but also in different states. Thinking that a future with Jason was out of reach, Brie had decided to leave the Atlanta area for Chicago. This news was all of the inspiration that Jason needed to confess his love for her. Once he told her how he felt, they were inseparable. They both took jobs in Atlanta and were married less than eighteen months later.

There’s the sign just ahead on the left, Brie announced, pointing to a large rough-hewn wood plank suspended between two knobby poles set on either side of the driveway.

Thank you, dear. I don’t know how I’d ever been able to pilot a vehicle without you in the passenger seat to tell me where to go, quipped Jason. (Brie punched him in the arm).

I was only trying to help in my excitement, Mr. Smarty Pants.

In your excitement? Are you now looking forward to the ticks, mosquitoes, spiders, and snakes that you mentioned earlier? You know, the ones that might fly into your hair?

Well, if a snake flies into my hair, then he is more than welcome to. That would be something worth seeing.

Oh, look who’s the smarty pants now, huh? Jason replied looking at Brie rather than the road, Maybe now would be a good time for you to stop talking and …

Pilot this vehicle. Brie said finishing his sentence for him and putting a momentary end to their playful banter, You just missed the drive to the Inn, Brie said with a snicker, truly pleased that, at least at this moment, Jason did seem to need her to help him drive.

As Jason parked the car in front of the inn, Catherine and Roger came out to greet and help them with their bags.

How are y’all doing? I hope you had a pleasant drive and didn’t have any trouble finding the place, Roger asked.

We had no problem at all. We only missed one turn the whole way, Brie replied with a sneer and a wink in Jason’s direction.

Well, welcome to our humble home. I’m Catherine Stone, and this is my husband Roger. Can we help you with your bags? I hope you are hungry; lunch will be ready in about twenty minutes. Do y’all like butterbeans and cornbread, turnip greens, and fried chicken? That’s what I was planning for dinner. For lunch we have an assortment of sandwiches and fruits. I think you are going to love your room we… I’m sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I? I’m just a little nervous as y’all are our first guests to arrive, and I want everything to be perfect. Catherine was a little embarrassed. She had a tendency to ramble when she was nervous, and today she was very nervous.

Don’t worry, Mrs. Stone, I’m sure that you have made everything just as perfect as it could possibly be, Jason responded with a reassuring smile.

Roger called for Mr. Samples, introduced him to their guests, and together they took the young couple’s bags and led them to their room.

This is our honeymoon suite. As you may have noticed, it is the only room that is not physically connected to the house so that you may have all the privacy a newly married couple needs. In its original state, it was the mother-in-law suite. We have made a few changes and upgrades that I hope you will like. Over here, obviously is the bedroom; here you have a small living area with satellite T.V. Over here, Roger said while crossing to the back of the room, is the kitchenette. We assumed y’all might not want to eat in the house with us every night. We only ask that you don’t burn the place down (trying to be humorous). If you will follow me out the back door here, I think you will enjoy this feature.

Jason and Brie had been fairly quiet, letting Roger show them around a room that was pretty much self-explanatory, but as they walked out through the back door, Brie almost lost her breath at what she saw. She stood on a small brick patio; on her left there was a large whirlpool hot tub, but what caught her breath was the view. They had not really noticed as they pulled up, but the Inn was situated on top of a mountain ridge which had a spectacular view over the valley with another ridge just on the other side. As it was fall, the colors of all the hardwood trees were amazing, and they could partially see the large trout stream just a hundred yards down the embankment. And down in the bottom of the valley was a large lake that was as blue as the sky. The patio was extended by a deck that stretched out over the embankment and made you feel as if you were flying over the valley and right into the middle of all that brilliant color. As they took it all in, they also