Winterwood Lane

By Dara Girard

“You saved our lives…”
Jobless, broke and facing foreclosure, Kate Elliot tries to end her life several days before Christmas, but wakes up in a strange room with no memory of how she got there.
Everyone in the Stokes family of Winterwood Lane considers her a hero. Except Evan.
After a bitter betrayal he does not trust her or anyone.
Can two broken hearts find joy during the holidays? Or is it too late?
A holiday family drama with a touch of romance from national bestselling author Dara Girard.

• Language: English
• Publisher: ILORI Press Books
• Release date: Jul 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9791220824675

Dara Girard

Dara Girard fell in love with storytelling at an early age. Her romance writing career happened by chance when she discovered the power of a happy ending. She is an award-winning author whose novels are known for their sense of humor, interesting plot twists, and witty dialogue. Dara loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her at [e-mail] or P.O Box 10345, Silver Spring, MD 20914.

Book preview

Chapter 1

She was supposed to be dead .

Kate Elliot looked around the unfamiliar room in horror. It was homey with the faint sound of bright cheery music (something about jingle bells and dashing through the snow) coming from somewhere in the hallway. She’d wanted to get away from the merriment of the holidays. She’d chosen that isolated part of Northeast DC to end her life. How had she ended up in a room that smelled like peppermint and gingerbread, had light pink walls and blankets so soft and light they reminded her of whipped cream?

She sat up. Too fast, her head hurt and for a moment the room spun. Maybe she was hallucinating? Maybe her body was lying somewhere on the pissed soaked street where a bum was rifling through her pockets and her mind was elsewhere before it faded into nothingness.

That had to be it. Kate carefully laid back down. The hallucination would soon pass and then everything would be over. All her problems, all the hurt she’d caused would come to an end. Finally.

Is she awake yet? she heard a female voice ask.

I think I heard her move, a child replied.

Don’t listen by the door, you know that’s rude.

But I thought I heard something.

Kate closed her eyes. Was she having auditory hallucinations too? How long did it take for it to all fade to black? What about the white light? She heard a door open softly against the carpeted floor.

She’s still asleep, the child said. Kate couldn’t tell from the voice whether it was a boy or a girl, it just sounded young and bright with curiosity.

Shh...you don’t want to wake her.

But she’s been sleeping forever.

She’ll wake up soon, the woman said in a voice of indulgent patience. Kate heard the door gently click shut.

That was strange. Why did it all feel so real? Maybe she was experiencing a mixture of a hallucination and a dream. The mind was a strange, mysterious thing and it could play tricks. Perhaps this was its way to cope before it stopped working. She’d never heard anyone having a near death experience like this, but then she didn’t plan to go back and tell anyone.

She’d left a note for her parents. She didn’t want them to deal with a mess. She’d given them enough trouble. Disappearing was the least she could do. They’d be upset, but she hoped it wouldn’t last. They’d suffered enough.

Because of her they’d lost most of their life savings to a con man. A man she’d married and trusted with her wealth and theirs. Decades worth of their hard work and investments were gone in an instant. Now she was buried in debt, her house was in foreclosure, and she was jobless (eight months and still not one interview). She’d worked in her husband’s firm—Marson Financial Consultants Inc.—in charge of marketing. She was fortunate she hadn’t been charged in the scheme. She discovered she was stupid but not culpable (at least that’s what the courts decided). Although many of his other victims didn’t believe that verdict. Only her parents believed in her, but that was little comfort. Because of her, her sixty-one-year-old father was now forced to work longer than he’d planned; retirement was now a distant dream for him and her mother wouldn’t be able to cut her hours to part time as she’d hoped. Unlike her, they’d managed to save their house—barely. But there would be no money for repairing the roof or the kitchen sink—they both leaked.

They’d trusted her, believed in her. Their only daughter. Their pride and joy. And she’d failed them. Caused them financial ruin. She couldn’t face the holidays with this ugly dark cloud over her head. She couldn’t pretend to smile and eat her mother’s glazed turkey as if nothing had changed. She felt dead inside. She couldn’t afford gifts this year; she barely had enough money for food.

Only last month she’d gone to the food pantry and had stood in line next to a woman, wearing a stylish curly wig with a toddler beside her, sending her an evil look as she assessed Kate’s dark blue cashmere coat and black Mercedes the woman and others had seen Kate get out of when she parked. Kate was too hungry to care or explain her predicament. She took her food box even as she heard whispers behind her back.

She know she ain’t got no business coming here.

"Huh and they say we act like we’re entitled, a tiny redhead with a husky smoker’s voice said. You heard about those people with six figure incomes getting HUD subsidies?"

Girl, if I could key her car, I would.

The woman didn’t have to. When Kate reached her car, her thousand dollar heels clicking along the parking lot in arrogant defiance, she saw a distinct scratch on the hood and the side. They would have to stay. She didn’t have the money to fix them. She did her best to cover the damage herself. It was when she was making her own repair, using an awkward remedy—acrylic paint from a craft store—when she got the last foreclosure notice, followed by five kids on bicycles throwing eggs at her and her house before riding away.

It was the last straw. Soon the car would be her only possession and she knew she was lucky to have it, but it didn’t help her feel better. She wanted the pain to stop. She’d sat in her living room surrounded by walls of glass that rose up to a soaring ceiling—where only a year ago she’d hosted friends to a lavish party—and stared at the notice making up her mind that her life needed to end.

Nobody would miss her. Her parents would understand. And if they didn’t, she’d let them be angry at her. This would give them the permission to hate her, as they should, for ruining their lives.

She’d managed to come up with an excuse to skip Thanksgiving. For Christmas…they’d have the note. And the life insurance. The policy covered accidental death and if they followed her instructions they’d be fine.

That was the gift she wanted to give them.

She’d gone to an isolated section of the city to the railroad tracks. There would be no mistake with that. Nobody survived being hit full force by a speeding locomotive, and a stalled car could happen anywhere. But then she stopped when she considered the face of the train driver and what if she caused an accident? She didn’t want that.

So she’d left the track to find