Willow's Retreat: The Harrell Family Chronicles, #1

By Sherri Lupton Hollister and S L Hollister

They can't go on pretending everything is okay. With the tragic death of her nephew, Dr. Willow Rider needs to make some changes before it's too late. She's not a good wife or mother, but she's an awesome therapist. Can she heed her own advice and repair her broken relationships? Will their families and the past destroy their fragile bond and their second chance at happiness?

Called Saint John by his family, John Harrell is the head of the family. A leader and martyr, he always does what's best for everyone else. It's time he demands his own happiness? Can he accept help from those he loves or will he continue to make the same mistakes?

When their son is targeted for being a gay firefighter and accused in his cousin's death, Willow and John join forces to protect their family and their town from the Steel Marauders motorcycle gang contriving for command of the leaderless sex trafficking cartel that once controlled the town of Leeward. Believing the Harrell family holds the key, they will stop at nothing for revenge and power. Family drama, first in series, suspense thriller, second chance romance, seasoned romance, LBGQ

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dragonfly River Press
• Release date: Aug 24, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201760731

Sherri Lupton Hollister

People have often asked me why I don’t write about my adventures raising six sons. I have to admit that I prefer to write their stories as fiction because no one believes the stuff they put me through if I tell it as fact. In fiction I can clean my boys up a little when I like them and make them the heroes of my stories and if they’ve pissed me off, I can make them the villains. It’s been a running joke around our house that mom will put you in her book and kill you off on page fifty, but some know they’re the smelly corpse discovered in the ditch at the very beginning of the story. Heck, it’s not even a threat anymore my grandkids are begging to be put in my books and even telling me how I can kill them off. I mean really, where’s the threat in that? We put the fun in dysfunctional, what can I say? I have long conversations with my children and grandchildren about blowing things up and how to get rid of bodies. The holidays are never boring around our house.

Book preview

Prologue: (35 years ago)

Liz and Charlie’s Story

Liz straightened the skirt she’d remade from the bags of old castoffs they’d received from the church ladies. The tiny sewing kit she’d purchased at the Piggly Wiggly didn’t offer much more than scissors, a pack of needles and some thread. There’d been some stray buttons in the bags of clothes, and someone had added some skeins of lace and trim. She felt pretty even if she had to squinch her toes to keep her shoes from flopping. They were a size too big, but she’d lined the insides with newspaper. They were a nearly perfect pair of Jimmy Choo pumps just like she’d seen in a movie. She’d camouflaged the deep scratches with a black sharpie and shoe polish.

Charlie Harrell was at his locker when she came up beside him and pretended to struggle with her lock.

You need some help with that? He asked smelling of soap and sweat. His damp hair fell across his forehead, and she fought the urge to push it back.

Yes, thank you. She fluttered her lashes the way she’d seen the girls do in movies.

He smiled, his cheeks turning pink. He opened her locker with ease, and she exchanged one set of books for another. Did you finish the assignment for Mrs. Lockwood?

Liz nodded. Yeah, although it’s not typed. I didn’t get a chance to go to the library. I guess she’ll take off points for that.

They walked to homeroom together.

You look very pretty today, he whispered just before they entered the classroom.

Liz felt her heart soar and nearly floated to her desk.

Oh my god, Jill, isn’t that your old pair of Choo’s. Look, you can see where your brother scratched them.

Liz stiffened.

What is she wearing?

I swear that looks like my mother’s old church dress.

She forced her head high.

The bell for first period rang. Mrs. Lockwood entered. She smiled at the class. Did you all finish your assignments this weekend?

Everyone began handing up their papers. She complained over those not typed. She glanced at the paper Liz had carefully printed and shook her head. Elizabeth, you have such promise. With a little extra effort, you could be a straight A student.

Liz stiffened.

The other girls snickered.

Barbie, Jill, you two have no room to laugh. Just because your papers are typed doesn’t mean they are even close to the caliber of Liz’s work.

Liz was glad to have Mrs. Lockwood’s support but knew she’d just painted another target on her back for the popular girls to aim at. Before the end of the class, she handed out another assignment. I’ll give you three weeks on this one, pair up with a classmate and let me know who you are partnering with.

Charlie leaned over and whispered, Liz, will you be my partner?

Blushing, she nodded. Wondering what his mama would say if she knew he was working with the whore’s daughter.

Mrs. Lockwood smiled down at them as she handed them their assignment sheet. That’s not a bad idea.

She went on to explain the assignment, but Liz’s head was muddled with thoughts of working with Charlie for three weeks. Hank couldn’t complain about her hanging out with a boy when they were working on an assignment for class.

Hank was her mom’s boyfriend or protector. He referred to himself as her stepfather. He wasn’t anything but a bully. She didn’t understand why she allowed him to stay when he did nothing but drink beer, make crude comments and play with his Harley.

A blue bug on a white surface Description automatically generated with medium confidence

Liz watched her mother struggle up off her knees. Four months pregnant and the bastard still demanded she clean the floors on her knees. Mama let me do that, she offered hurrying to help her rise. Doris Matthews was only thirty years old, but they’d been hard years. Pregnant at fifteen, Doris, or Dodie as most of her friends called her, had been on her own since she was twelve. She’d learned how to scrape by and make do.

If you want to do something on your knees... Hank suggested but both women just glared at him.

Tracking across the newly mopped floor, he got a beer from the fridge and popped the top, drinking half the can before making his way outside to his garage. It wasn’t anything but an old lean-to where he kept his Harley and his tools.

Dodie groaned glaring down at the footprints on the floor.

I got this mama. You go sit down. She helped her to the good end of the sofa and put her feet up on the coffee table.

Dodie started to resist. Deuce won’t like it if I’m sitting down.

Yeah, well, he’ll get over it. Liz knew her words were all bravado, but she needed to believe them if they were going to survive. He wasn’t the first asshole boyfriend Dodie had. He was just the most recent. If you don’t get off your feet, you’re going to lose this baby. She told her about the latest assignment for her favorite class and about Charlie Harrell. 

After getting her mother settled with a glass of iced tea and a plate of cookies, Liz went back and pulled the hidden mop from behind the refrigerator and quickly mopped up the footprints. She rinsed the mop in the bathroom and carefully hid it back behind the fridge. Then she took the bucket with its dirty water outside and dumped it. Bent over, wiping out the bucket she felt him come up behind her. She stiffened but tried to keep the fear from her face and her movements unhurried. Rising, she took a step away from the jerk.

He grinned, knowing he’d frightened her. You’re almost ripe enough for the plucking. Soon your mama will be too big with that baby belly to do me much good. He winked. But you’ll do fine. In fact, I think I’ll enjoy training you to my will.

Swallowing back the bile, she shook her head. I don’t think so, Hank, you’re not my type.

He slapped her. No backtalking me, girl. You’ll do what I say.

Hey, what’s going on? Mama stood in the doorway, her hand holding the bottom of her baby belly. Didn’t you want to go to the library before it closes so you can get started on your English assignment? She reached for the bucket. Thanks, sweetie, for dumping that for me.

You want me to drive you to the library, Hank offered.

No, I’m fine. I’ll just ride my bike. It was a second-hand bike her mom had found, and spray painted. It wasn’t pretty but it allowed her a little freedom. She ran inside and grabbed her backpack, another donation from the church ladies. Liz was grateful for the things they were given like clothes, food and school supplies but she hated the way other people treated her because they knew where she got them.

Charlie was waiting at the library when she pedaled up beside him. Sorry, my mom needed some help before I could leave. She parked the old bike and locked it up with her chain.

His face lit up as he smiled. I’m just glad you didn’t stand me up. You know I chose you because you’re the smartest girl in the class and I’m the dumbest.

You’re not a dumb girl, she teased.

He blushed. I meant...You know what I meant.

Shaking her head, she punched his arm as they started inside the library. I’d say choosing me as your partner shows you’re not the dumbest.

He grinned. You know, you’re right. He walked a little straighter.

A blue bug on a white surface Description automatically generated with medium confidence

You’ve been going to that library a lot recently, Hank said stepping in front of her before she reached the steps.

I’ve had an assignment for my English class and needed to use the library.

You wouldn’t be meeting a boy there?

Shaking her head, she said, No, just my assigned partner. She darted around him and went into the house. Before the screen door closed, she heard him warn.

No boy better be touching what’s mine. I’d hate to have to kill ‘em.

She shuddered and went inside. Her mother didn’t look at her when she entered, and it took a moment for her to realize there were bruises on her face. Mama?

I’m okay baby, she murmured through swollen lips.

Mama, did Hank do this?

You know he prefers to be called Deuce, that’s his MC name.

Fuck that.

Elizabeth.

Mama, you need to get away from him before he does something to really hurt you. Liz thought about telling her about his promise to use her when her mama was too big with the baby, but she was afraid of what her mama might say.

It’ll be fine, Lizzie. She patted her arm. Go get ready for bed.

Mom, the door is off on the bathroom, Liz glared at the open gape.

Doris came to stand beside her. What the? She stomped to the back door and yelled. Why’d you take the bathroom door off? Come put it back up.

I’ll do it when I feel like it. He grinned and smoothed out his mustache, leering at Liz.

Liz turned on her heel. Ass wipe.

Doris followed her daughter and stared at the door. The hinges and pins are still here. We just have to set it back up. Get the step ladder and hammer.

Liz did as she was told. She lifted the door in place while her mother climbed up on the step ladder and hammered the pins into the hinges. That should do it.

Liz helped her down from the ladder, checked the door. It swung and closed like new. Great job, mom.

Doris shrugged. You learn to make do. She grunted and put Liz’s hand on her belly. Feel that?

Liz smiled. Wow, powerful kicks already. You sure you’re not farther along?

Doris glanced out the back door and nodded. Yeah, but it’s best if Deuce believes he’s the daddy.

Liz shook her head and hurried to get her bath before Deuce/Hank fucking crazy man, decided to see what she was up to.

She was dressed and drying her hair when he yanked the bathroom door open. I didn’t tell you to fix the door.

You didn’t tell me not to.

He slapped her.

Leave her alone Deuce. I fixed the door. She don’t need you glaring at her while she bathes. You will respect her privacy.

Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?

Doris raised her chin. Have you forgotten who hired you?

Deuce cursed and stomped out the door letting it slam shut behind him.

He needs to go.

Doris nodded.

A blue bug on a white surface Description automatically generated with medium confidence

Hank grabbed her as she was pulling her bike from the lean-to. He fondled her breasts and shoved his hand into her pants. You’re almost ripe enough to pick.

She screamed and kicked until he let go. He was laughing as she hoped on her bike. She rode as fast as she could to the library. Tears were streaming down her cheeks when she reached it.

Hey, you okay? Charlie asked.

Shaking, she said, No.

Do you want to go somewhere and talk?

She nodded.

They walked the bikes to a meadow, a little barn sat amid a sea of wildflowers. They propped their bikes on the side of the barn and went inside.

She was calmer now, determined. Charlie?

Yeah?

Do you think I’m pretty?

Blushing, he nodded. Yeah.

Would you, uh, would you have sex with me?

He stared at her with the blank-eyed stare of someone who’d just been granted their greatest fantasy.

My mom’s boyfriend is determined to be my first and I know I probably can’t stop him, but I want my first time to be with someone I like. I like you... she muttered, lowering her head.

Charlie moved closer, he touched her gently. Then his lips were on hers and she sighed into the kiss. His hands were awkward, trembling with desire and excitement. I’ve never...

She nodded. Me neither.

Between touches and kisses they stripped naked.

You’re beautiful, he said, leaning down to kiss her breasts.

They wanted to take it slow and savor the experience, but hormones and excitement rode them hard, and they couldn’t slow their passion. Soon he was inside her. Oh shit, I didn’t...no condom.

I-you’d think a whore’s daughter would be more prepared. I don’t have one either. We’re both virgins so we should be okay.

What about pregnancy?

Can you get pregnant the first time?

He shrugged but it was already too late. He was inside her and moving. She clung to him. The worst was over, he’d popped her cherry and things were starting to get more interesting. Just as she was getting into it, he shuddered and pulled out, spewing come in the hay beside her.

Sorry, next time I’ll be better.

She blushed knowing there probably wouldn’t be a next time. Dressing quickly, she blinked back tears. I should go.

Liz, no, not yet.

Thank you, Charlie, if I don’t see you... She reached into her backpack and handed him a folder. It was their assignment. She got on her bike and rode away. It was only a little uncomfortable.

A blue bug on a white surface Description automatically generated with medium confidence

Why won’t you see me? Charlie rode home pondering all that had happened. Then Liz’s words hit him, he turned his bike around and rode as hard as he could to her house praying, he wasn’t too late.

Chapter 1: The Funeral

Reflections from the canned lights overhead flickered off the casket like moonglow on a midnight darkened river. Willow Rider Harrell stifled a shudder. She couldn’t bring herself to walk up the aisle to view the young man lying on the pale satin pillow. Gripping her black leather purse, she sidestepped into an empty row near the front, but not so close as to take space from the family. Technically, she was family, though she’d never used her married name. Few knew her as Mrs. John Harrell. To most, she was Doctor Willow Rider. It would surprise some to learn she had two grown sons. Thankfully, it wasn’t one of them in the casket. She closed her eyes at that selfish thought.

The ice bitch doesn’t have a heart, someone whispered behind her.

She doesn’t even show emotion at a funeral.

Willow stiffened. Her emotions as always completely restrained. If the old biddies only knew how many funerals she’d attended, beginning with her first at ten years old, maybe they’d have a little more compassion, but she doubted it. Some people didn’t have any sympathy. Her grandmother had taught her that lesson. After watching her mother’s casket being lowered into the ground, the woman had ordered her not to act like such a baby. People die, get over it. Her bitch of a grandmother had trained her well to keep her feelings to herself until showing any emotion had become difficult.

John put his hand on her back.

Her shoulders tightened, and he removed it. She longed to lean into him, to take comfort from his powerful arms and wide muscular chest, but she didn’t dare, she no longer had that option. She was only here as a family obligation, even if she was barely still a member of the Harrell family. Broderick Bobby Harrell had been her nephew, and in her own strange way, she’d been close to him.

After nearly thirty years with John, over twenty of them married, she still felt as if she was on the outside looking in. Her fault, she knew. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she glanced up at him from under the brim of her dark gray hat. Should she reach for his hand? Would that give him the wrong signal? Did he need comforting, too? Closing her