Journey Back to Love: Victory Hill Trilogy, #2

By Kay Brooks

Priscilla "Cilla" Graham and Jake Carmichael are travelling separately to visit her grandmother and cross paths at Victory Hill. A haunted restaurant and B&B in southwest Virginia, people have met there by chance, fallen in love and returned to add their pictures to the "wall of love."

Ten years ago, Jake shattered Cilla's world when she caught him in the arms of another woman. Channeling that hurt into furthering her career, she was hired as assistant to the CEO of Jacob's Foundation, a non-profit that works with veterans. She has never met the Founder but totally agrees with his vision.

Jake has loved Cilla from childhood and regrets that a stupid prank chased her away. He served his country, then came home and founded Jacob's Foundation to help veterans better their lives. He initiated Cilla's job offer but prefers to work in anonymity. He has maintained contact with Cilla's grandmother, the only person to know his true feelings for Cilla.

When they chance to meet at Victory Hill and realize they are going in the same direction, Jake follows on his motorcycle. Crazy drivers, a serious car accident, bad weather and mixed emotions make for an interesting, sometimes traumatic trip.

Jake wants to resume his relationship with Cilla but her broken heart prevents commitment. He worries that not being up front about her job, his philanthropy or other secrets concerning her grandmother and the real reason they are going home will come between them.

While appreciating the beauty of the B&B, Cilla chances to lock eyes with a woman at an attic window. Suddenly her dreams are consumed by this mystery woman from the nineteenth century and are so real, Cilla wonders if she is travelling back in time.

Dreams haunt her, Jake tempts her, and disillusionment awaits her. Can Cilla forgive Jake's secrecy, let him back into her heart and add their picture to the "wall of love" at Victory Hill?

The mystery of the haunted B&B continues in Book Two of the Victory Hill Trilogy where Cilla wonders if she might be going home to another woman's world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: KDB Manuscripts
• Release date: Feb 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9780999600672

Kay Brooks

As a teenager, Kay enjoyed reading Georgette Heyer, Daphne duMaurier, Mary Stewart and Victoria Holt and treasured the ones she collected. She discovered contemporary romance when she needed something light to read while the children were napping.  She found herself wondering “what if” and decided to write a story of her own.  She joined the Virginia Romance Writers and Washington Romance Writers DC and made many, many new friends while fine-tuning her writing skills. Three small children, a full-time job as a Library Director, little league and civic obligations caused her put the pen away for a while, although she continued to write news articles and library newsletters.  She became immersed in the community and made friends with many of the citizens through the library. In 2013, she retired and pulled out her old manuscripts.  Once again, she found herself wondering, “what if I make a change here?  A change there?  Update things?” She has written five books: The Row Series: Spicer’s Challenge Book 1 (2014) Dreams Fulfilled Book 2 (2015) Newfound Love, Book 3 (2017) Standalone Persistent Intruder (2017) Love Again (2018) There are many more “what if” stories waiting to come alive. Please enjoy her website, www.kaydbrooksauthor.com Newsletters, Kay Uncorked Facebook page: Kay Brooks She also welcomes comments via email: [e-mail] 

Book preview

VICTORY HILL

William and Elsie Comfort held hands as they walked up the hill from the back fields. It was Valentine’s Day and they had just visited the family cemetery, left flowers on his parents’ grave to celebrate what would have been their fiftieth wedding anniversary.

Elsie chuckled, smiled up at her husband. I can’t believe we’ve been married twenty-five years ourselves. They too had married on Valentine’s Day.

The corners of William’s mouth turned up. Been married almost half my life.

Elsie squeezed his hand, raised her head for his kiss.

They stopped to appreciate the pink horizon outlining his childhood home. Once a dignified brick mansion built by William Donovan, the town’s founder, it had served as a hospital during the Civil War, then fell into disrepair because of neglect and strange hauntings.

William was two years old when his parents, Edwin and Wilma Comfort bought it for five hundred dollars. His mother enjoyed cooking and taking in strays, so they named it Victory Hill, made it into a boarding house and restaurant.

He’d helped his father restore the house, bussed tables and served customers while his mother cooked in the kitchen. He graduated from high school and in 1940, married his high school sweetheart Elsie Howard, learned he was going to be a father one month before leaving to serve in World War II.

I’m so glad you and your father built the wing on the back of the house, Elsie said. It added so much character to the house. Took away the stigma attached to it. Made it more empowering.

She and her mother-in-law continued the Victory Gardens effort during the second world war. Elsie also helped in the restaurant; expanded and enhanced the menu with her specialty pies, cakes and cookies.

At least my mother had a few good years in the enlarged the kitchen. Both his parents had died within months of each other.

What do you think about enclosing the courtyard? William inquired.

People could enjoy their meals outside, Elsie agreed.

William saw movement at the window on the third floor and pointed. Did you see that? He heard Elsie’s loud gasp.

Oh my, Elsie pressed her fingers to her lips. Do you think it’s her? William, she looked at her husband with wide eyes, that’s the first time I’ve seen her.

My mother used to talk about how she felt like someone was watching her whenever she worked in the gardens. You never felt it?

Elsie laughed. I always thought it was you watching me from the fields or thinking about me.

William hugged her to his side. But you heard the baby’s crying, he murmured softly.

She lay her head on his shoulder and sighed. Yes.

He’d also heard the baby, always in the main part of the house, late at night. Wondered if it was one of the unfortunate orphans that had lived there before his parents bought it. Knew it was hard for Elsie because of the two miscarriages. They had only the one son, Harry.

They stepped toward the house.

I know Harry and Rita gave us the night off, but I’m sure Rita could use some help in the kitchen, Elsie said. Harry said we had non-stop reservations through eight thirty this evening.

And it’s their third anniversary, William added. That’s what we get for getting married on Valentine’s Day.

Elsie giggled. We’ll all have to celebrate later. I think Rita has some special news for Harry.

CHAPTER ONE

PRISCILLA CILLA GRAHAM STARED AT THE LICENSE PLATE OF the gray mustang convertible in front of her and chuckled.

GR8PES.

Obviously, the driver harvested grapes at a winery or owned a wine shop. Both would be great side trips, she thought. Stomp the grapes in a barrel or swish and swirl the fruits of the labor in a tasting room.

She enjoyed studying the creativeness of license plates to relieve the monotony of driving – guessing the meaning behind the crazy ones.

She’d left Reston, Virginia three hours earlier. The rhythm of the tires on the pavement and the occasional jolt from potholes and irregular seams in the road were hypnotizing. She was beginning to daze, decided she needed a break. A quick glance at the GPS screen on the dashboard indicated Salem was up ahead. Maybe she would stop, take a break.

Since the gas gauge registered a quarter tank, she would feed the car, then grab something for herself.

Worried the trip to Greenville, Texas would be too much for her old Mazda, she’d decided to rent a car for the trip home and the pings of the safety features were distracting. Several times, it had slowed for near accidents. Just now a light on the dash flashed and the car vibrated when her mind wandered, and she drifted to the right.

Cars were getting too smart, she thought.

GON2FAS zoomed past. Too bad the new cars weren’t programmed to monitor the lunatic drivers, slow them down.

She preferred driving the middle lane. Let the racing against time rabbits use the left lane, and the lackadaisical happy-go-lucky turtles the right.

It amazed her how some of the rabbits tried to cheat and race past her on the right then would brake, almost crawl behind the slower turtles. Several rabbits brazenly nudged in front of her, causing her car to hesitate in reaction.

She chuckled when she approached the O2BHME license plate. This thirteen-hundred-mile trip home to visit her grandmother was going to be a long one, she thought. She wished she could blink her eyes and be at Gran’s in an instant.

The trip was long overdue, and they had a lot of catching up to do. Unlike her mother, Gran had been the fixture in her life – raised her, provided for her and loved her unconditionally.

They talked once a week, but with her busy schedule assisting the CEO of Jacob’s Foundation, Cilla hadn’t visited in almost a year.

She almost flew home two weeks ago when her grandmother fell. But Gran insisted she was okay.

You have an important job, Gran said. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine.

Cilla made her grandmother promise if she needed anything she would call right away.

Suddenly, the blind-spot warning beeped, and Cilla heard the roar of a motorcycle on her left.

She stared straight ahead, ignoring the driver while he maintained his speed, then let out a sigh of relief when he sped ahead and pulled in front of her.

Cilla hated following motorcycles. Cars couldn’t get too close to them, yet the bikes could weave in and out of the lanes whenever and wherever they wanted. This one seemed to be responsible as he maintained his speed to hers.

Then he slowed down, and in aggravation, she maneuvered around him.

Minutes later, he was beside her again.

She gave him a quick frown and caught her breath when the cyclist turned his head and stared at her.

All Cilla spotted were black boots, jeans, leather jacket and alien helmet. A shaded visor covered his face, but she sensed his bold stare before he passed and pulled in front of her again.

Cilla exhaled, then smiled when she heeded the Salem exit sign up ahead. She would take her time getting gas and food. Let him move on up the road.

To her chagrin, the motorcycle pulled off the same exit and turned left. Cilla spied the gas station and turned right.

Minutes later, she stretched her back, appreciated being able to stand even if only for a few minutes. Waiting for the gas to finish, she leaned against the car and focused on the people around her. Chuckled when she saw the OL COOT license plate and watched the old man switch the nozzle from his worn pickup truck’s tank to a gas can on the concrete at his feet. There were two other cans beside it. She decided he was either taking advantage of the cheaper gas prices or needed it for his farm equipment.

Husbands filled their tanks while the rest of the family wandered inside the store for refreshments or restrooms.

A station attendant picked up trash around the property and swept the sidewalks, while another leaned against the brick wall, his foot propped against the wall while he enjoyed a smoke break.

A huge billboard across the road caught Cilla’s eye.

Victory Hill was emblazoned across the top; Voted Virginia’s Best B&B for 2019 in quotations below a picture of a beautiful brick mansion. Another brick building with Experience Our 5-Star Cuisine beneath it balanced the other side of the sign.

One mile on the right was centered along the bottom of the display.

Interesting name, Cilla thought. Virginia was one of the key states in the Civil War, she wondered if a battle had occurred nearby.

The click of the gas pump brought her back to the present. After awaiting her receipt, she navigated onto the road and decided to explore. Maybe she’d enjoy lunch in the five-star restaurant.

Her jaw dropped when she drove one mile and turned right onto a long white-fenced drive. A tall canopy of oak and dogwood trees shaded the path that opened to a lush green lawn. Cilla slowed when she recognized the brick mansion pictured on the billboard at the top of the slope. She followed the drive around to the back of the building.

A terraced courtyard on the right led to the bed and breakfast. Further ahead on the left, she observed the restaurant. A half-full parking lot, immaculate landscaping and delicious aromas beckoned her to come inside and enjoy a good meal.

Beautiful, Cilla thought as she parked and stepped out of her car, studied the lodging house. Brick walls surrounded the courtyard and arched porch openings covered what was apparently the main entrance to the mansion. Three chimneys promised heat in the winter and eight windows on two floors offered warm southern daylight. Three narrow gabbled attic windows protruded from the red tin roof.

Cilla caught movement at a third-floor window and looked up to observe a woman staring down at her. She could only see her from the waist up, but the bright blue blouse and platinum blonde curls pulled back away from a small oval face were eye-catching.

Suddenly, Cilla experienced a jolting thrill throughout her body. What was that, she shivered as she turned to close the car door.

A motorcycle come around the bend and pulled into the space beside her. By all appearances, it appeared to be the same biker that teased her on the interstate.

Cilla sighed. She didn’t mind flirtation, but not when she travelled alone. Her heart skipped a beat when the biker took his helmet off and she gazed into beautiful chocolate brown eyes from her past.

Jake Carmichael? The same Jake Carmichael that broke her heart ten years ago?

She searched for the scar above his right brow, caught that devilish twinkle that always sparkled in his eyes. Her heart fluttered when an all too familiar grin spread across his face.

Jake? Cilla’s knuckles were white as she gripped the top of the car door. Is that you?

One and only. He stepped away from the Harley and set the kick stand.

She appreciated that he was still the tall lean bad boy she remembered from so long ago.

What, what are you doing way out here? How did you even know it was me? That I would be here?

I noticed you the first time I passed you. Figured if fate crossed our paths in the middle of nowhere, I’d see where it took me.

Cilla recalled the last time they had parted. It hadn’t been pleasant.

Wow, I’m surprised.

He looked around. A little out of the way. Have you been here before?

No. The billboard caught my eye when I was at the gas station and I’m hoping the food is as good as the rating promises.

I’m starving myself. I’ll treat while we catch up.

Before she could refuse, Jake’s hand at her elbow steered her across the parking lot to the restaurant.

The front door opened to a small vestibule. A long narrow table stood on one side, an oversize antique buttock basket on top, partially filled with canned foods and pasta centered on it. A large display of rack cards and travel brochures was centered on the opposite wall.

Welcome to Victory Hill, a petite woman in her seventies greeted them when Jake opened the second door. Just the two of you?

Cilla caught a twinkle in the woman’s eye when she grabbed two menus and invited them to follow her.

You two look like you might enjoy a little privacy. She said over her shoulder as she led them to a booth at the far corner of the room.

Jake followed the two women and smiled. He knew Cilla was itching to tell the woman they weren’t a couple and nudged her to sit when she hesitated at the booth.

I’m Rita Comfort and my granddaughter Brooke will be with you momentarily.

Cilla surveyed the large room. It had the pub look with its heavy wooden tables arranged along the front and side walls of windows. More seating in the center could be doubled up and arranged for larger groups. Cream colored vinyl tablecloths and fresh flowers gave the restaurant a soft, homey atmosphere.

Their corner booth could easily seat four. Before Cilla could object, Jake was settling in, Rita walking back toward the front.

Cilla studied the two walls behind them, admired the eight by ten framed photos of smiling couples posing in what appeared to be this very booth.

She glanced across the room and detected two men seated at the thick timbered bar. A long mirror threw back reflections of people entering the restaurant and the two waitresses taking care of customers. Shelves lined with colorful liquor labels graced one end of the mirror and wine glasses hanging from racks the other.

A small, quick-stepping young woman backed her way through the swinging kitchen door, plates of food arranged on one arm, a pitcher of tea in the opposite hand. She freshened two state troopers’ glasses then set their plates in front of them.

Cilla guessed the girl to be her age. She wore khaki pants and a navy-blue polo shirt with Victory Hill embroidered above the left pocket. Stunning ginger red hair hung down her back in a thick braid.

Cilla listened to the chatter, appreciated the aroma of delicious food and focused on the young waitress as she scurried from table to table.

What’ll it be? Jake asked, studying the menu. Breakfast or lunch?

Since I skipped breakfast, an omelet sounds good. Probably be a long time before dinner. She smiled when the young woman stopped by their table.

Hi, I’m Brooke. I’ll be happy to bring you something to drink if you need a little longer to read over the menu.

I’ll take some coffee and I think I’d like to try your omelet, Cilla said.

Brooke grabbed her pad and smiled. My favorite. My Dad fixes a mean western omelet with jalapenos, roasted bell peppers and onions.

She turned toward Jake.

How’s his Reuben Burger?

Brooke laughed. That’s my Mom’s specialty. She adds chili flakes, jalapenos and wine-cured sauerkraut. The customers love it. How would you like it cooked?

Medium, Jake handed his menu to Brooke, with water.

Brooke tucked the menus under her arm and turned. I’ll be right back with your drinks.

Jake leaned back, studied Cilla. Appreciated she hadn’t changed much. Still had that natural beauty. He smiled. So, where are you heading?

Home. To visit Gran.

You’re pretty brave, travelling over thirteen hundred miles by yourself. Does she know you’re coming?

No, I wanted to surprise her. This is my first vacation in almost two years. I’m planning to break the trip up; thought I’d stretch it out.

I’m heading in the same direction, maybe I’ll tag along.

Cilla groaned inwardly. She planned to take her time. Do what she wanted, when she wanted. Not worry about keeping up with anyone else. She was sure she’d be travelling too slow for Jake’s bike.

Your grandmother okay? Jake interrupted her musing. She saw the twinkle again, wondered if he knew what she was thinking.

Cilla nodded, played with her spoon. No point mentioning that Gran was the reason for the trip. After getting that mysterious note the other day, and being unable to contact her grandmother, she’d requested her time off and started packing.

She knew her grandmother tended to sleep late so hadn’t called when she left at seven that morning. She planned to give her a call later this afternoon.

Brooke set Cilla’s coffee and Jake’s water on the table. Your orders should be ready in five minutes.

I’m curious about the pictures on these two walls. Cilla said before Brooke could step away.

Brooke laughed. "We call it our wall of love. Those are people that happened to meet here, fell in love and eventually got married."

She pointed to one of the couples behind Cilla. That’s Michael and Deb Prentiss. He was passing through on his way to a new job and her car had broken down. They were both headed for the same town, so he gave her a ride. They got married six months later.

She pointed to another couple. That’s John and Marie Campbell. John’s lived here all his life and happened to be at the bar when Marie and her fiancé came in. John and Marie took one look at each other and three weeks later, they got married.

Wow, Cilla exclaimed. What happened to the fiancé?

Brooke chuckled. Turns out he had cold feet and was trying to think the best way to tell Marie.

"So, you dole out a lot of love as well as delicious spicy food at Victory Hill," Jake teased.

The corner of Brooke’s mouth twitched up. You could say that.

"Where does the name Victory Hill come from?" Jake asked.

My great, great grandmother gave the house that name when they bought it in 1920. It was originally built by William Donovan in 1780. Two years later he established Williamtown and for a long time, the town prospered. Then the house served as a hospital during the Civil War and we’re pretty sure it’s haunted. Can’t decide if it’s patients in the hospital or a family member. The family suffered a tragic loss when William Donovan’s great grandson, James Donovan was killed in the Battle of the Crater in Petersburg in 1864.

Brooke pointed a thumb over her shoulder to the framed portraits in the reception area. "Those are my ancestors. The first two, next to the door, are my great-great grandparents, Edwin and Wilma Comfort. They were childhood sweethearts and bought the house for five hundred dollars. She named it Victory Hill because she said it had survived so much trauma.

"My great grandparents, William and Elsie Comfort are next to them. They were also sweethearts and got married before he left for World War II. When he was discharged, he came back here, worked beside his father and passed it down to my grandparents, Harry and Rita Comfort. They did some major renovation for the fiftieth anniversary.

Granddaddy passed away two years ago, and my grandmother still helps here in the restaurant. She’s the lady that seated you.

Cilla glanced over at the petite lady laughing with another woman at the bar.

And your parents? Jake queried.

Brooke smiled. My Mom, Angelina is cooking your Reuben Burger and my Dad, Finn is creating your omelet.

Wow, Cilla said. Food prepared and served with artistry and flair.

I spotted the food basket when we came in, Jake said.

Brooke’s smile grew wider.

My grandmother started collecting food for the food pantry a few years ago and before long, everyone in town decided to help. Many people have gotten in the habit of bringing something with them whenever they eat here.

How wonderful, Cilla beamed. And is the food pantry close by?

In town. Next to the community center. We deliver everything on Saturday mornings right before it is opened to the public. Sometimes, the food disappears from here, everyone knows about the basket.

Are the people honest? Cilla inquired. The ones that take it. Are they really in need?

Oh yeah. My grandmother knows everybody and watches the basket like a hawk. She has a way of stepping away when certain people come in.

Do you have many homeless people? Jake quizzed.

Brooke sighed. "You know, every town has their fair share. We just try to take better care of ours. There’s