A Chance At Forever: Find Your Way Slowly Into My Heart Book, #1

By R.K. Scarlett

Rick Callaghan is back home in Franklin, Tennessee after seven years away, and nothing's changed much.

 

His resentments for his mother still runs deep, and his beloved grandfather is very ill.

 

He is suddenly blindsided and swept off his feet by Jewel Justice Whittaker, a petite dance teacher who dotes on his grandfather.

 

Rick isn't quite sure what to make of his feelings about Jewel.

 

Would a sudden tragedy bring them closer together and keep them that way?

 

Or would their individual pasts and pent up resentments keep them from finding their way into each other's souls?

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ramone Scarlett
• Release date: Mar 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393711445

Book preview

A Chance At Forever

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Find Your Way Slowly Into My Heart

Book 1

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R.K. SCARLETT

Copyright © R.K. Scarlett 2020

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental.

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Content

Chapter One 

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Other Books By R.K. Scarlett

About the Author

Sneak Peek At Book 2

Chapter One

Rick Callaghan-Bishop got out of the taxi in front of his family’s two-story, colonial style home and breathed in the fresh windy air of Hover’s court lane, West Haven.

He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that almost seven years had passed since he had left Franklin, Tennessee.

Working in an offshore oilrig in Jordan was as remote of a job as they come, but even with the few opportunities he had gotten to travel, not once in those years had he returned home. Not even for a cursory visit.

Everything looked very different to him now; even the air smelled different. He stood by the side of the road while the cab driver pulled out his suitcases, unable to take his eyes off of the rows of short marigold plants and honeysuckle his grandmother had grown and cherished. They shone untroubled and cheerily in the midsummer afternoon sun, lending the white and brown homestead a welcoming, familiar feel.

Have a good day sir.

Rick was distracted from his nostalgic trip down memory lane by the driver, who waved at him.

Thank you, he replied hurriedly with a smile, as the driver entered the cab. Rick watched for a moment as the cab navigated the turn that led to the descent leading up to the house. With a short sigh of relief and contentment, he bent and hefted his suitcases, taking the short climb up the cobblestoned steps to the front door.

Home, sweet home.

Rick held up the giant iron knocker, enjoying the cold warmth that spread inside his palm at the familiar feel. It wasn’t so long ago that he had stood on a chair to hang the big Christmas wreath on it.

Shaking the cobwebs of memories that were beginning to swirl around his head, he brought the knocker down with three short raps.

It felt somewhat strange to be knocking at the front door when in the past, he had mostly used the kitchen door to enter the house.

From what he could remember, rarely anyone used the front door when he had lived there, except for visitors. Definitely no one who was considered family ever used the front door of the house.

His grandparents were warm and loving people. They had been the joy of his life since his childhood disintegrated, and he wouldn’t trade the memories he had shared with his Nan and Pop for anything.

His Grandparents was one of the reasons he had finally decided to come home.

Rick hadn’t needed the phone call about his grandfather’s failing health to convince him to come home for his seventieth birthday. The decision had been dancing around in his head for a year and a half now. He didn’t want the last memory he had of his grandfather to be of the night he had stormed out of the house in a fit of rage seven years ago.

Rick felt moisture in his palm despite the cool breeze of the afternoon and rubbed his hands together. Under all of the homesickness and eagerness to be back here, and to finally see his grandfather again, there was a tension that couldn’t be associated with anything else but the prospect of seeing his mother again after seven years.

Rick was exhausted from his drive from Malka, the small town where he lived in Jordan, to the airport in the city. He slept for the entire plane ride out of Jordan, but the hassle of the three stopovers he’d had to make did nothing to help him gather his thoughts. He had no immunity to the prospect of seeing his mother after so long.

Even after all these years, Rick couldn’t believe how much it still hurt to think of what his mother had done.

That night was ingrained in the depth of his memories like an epitaph arched on a tombstone, and no matter how long he’d been away, no matter the amount of decluttering he’d done in his mind, it wasn’t enough to make him forget. He didn’t hurt less now the way he’d hurt seven years ago; he had only become slightly numb from the length of time he hadn’t seen or spoken to her.

Rick shrugged, letting the thoughts of that night ease off his shoulders as he raised his hand to the knocker, but it was thrown back in an overwhelming onslaught as the door opened suddenly.

His mother stood in the doorway.

Rick. Baby....

Rick stared at her, ignoring the catch he’d heard in her voice as he watched her eyes grow moist while she took him in, her hands wringing into each