Blueberry Twist

By Judy Kentrus

Ashley Stevens has loved going to Camp McLaren, in Soldier’s Cove, Maine, since she was fourteen years old. Now, she’s introducing her daughter to the place that holds so many memories and one vital secret.
Tyler Webb goes home to relive some of the happy times at his family-owned campground, as well as savor his mother’s famous blueberry twist ice cream. What he doesn’t expect is to see the teenage love he never forgot.
Ashley has to determine if fate has thrown them together so she can finally tell Tyler the truth…even if her world might never be the same.

• Language: Unknown
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Aug 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9781509245321

Judy Kentrus

Judy Kentrus, Contemporary Romance and Romantic Suspense. I’ve always been a romantic at heart and married my high school sweetheart. I make my home in the Poconos of Pennsylvania. When I’m not at my computer making my couples fall in love and give them their happily-ever-after, you can find me in the kitchen, baking, especially cookies.  I’ve been dubbed the cookie queen by my family and friends.  I love writing about mature couples and will be launching my eleventh book in June.  My stories are fun, sexy romances that will make you laugh, cry and fall in love.                    

Book preview

In the distance, she spied the familiar glow of a lantern. Back in the day, he’d told her to follow the light to find him. Sometimes, they’d turn off the light to enjoy the beauty of the night sky. Other times, they’d swim, clothes and all, by the light of the moon. Her heart softened at the memories that reminded her they’d been friends for a long time. You need to tell him.

He stepped away from the bench when she got closer and smiled. I kept on the light.

You didn’t forget. She automatically looked at the top slat on the bench. Our initials are still there.

Just painted over to preserve them for posterity. He opened the small cooler beside the bench and removed a paper cup with a clear dome lid and plastic spoon. Just like old times.

He took out a second sundae for himself. I worked at the ice cream stand all day, but this is the first one of the season for me.

She sat next to him, removed the lid, and slid the plastic spoon into the mound of whipped cream to scoop out the cherry. Me, too. The creamy taste of the ice cream nearly made her weep. This tastes so good, it should be illegal. She let herself enjoy a second spoonful before getting down to business. You said you have a favor to ask.

Praise for Judy Kentrus

Is there anything better than a sweet summer romance? Judy Kentrus created an inviting destination to visit, to taste, and fall in love. BLUEBERRY TWIST should be everyone’s vacation destination.

~Karen Seibert

~*~

BLUEBERRY TWIST is a sweet treat. This charming novella captured my heart with a secret baby, now a teen, and second chances. Heartfelt and wonderful happily ever after.

~Lucinda Race

~*~

Judy’s stories always make me smile and BLUEBERRY TWIST was no exception. It was a sweet story with great characters I could root for. I really loved it.

~Paula Gardner

Blueberry Twist

by

Judy Kentrus

One Scoop or Two Series

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Blueberry Twist

COPYRIGHT © 2022 by Judy Kentrus

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Diana Carlile

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Edition, 2022

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-4532-1

One Scoop or Two Series

Published in the United States of America

Chapter One

I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!

The kids had been chanting that for the past half hour. Their excitement about going to Camp McLaren was infectious. Ashley loved that the away camp was on the coast of Maine. Other people at her ripe old age of thirty-five might not enjoy such enthusiasm, but she couldn’t get enough.

She glanced across the aisle at Tiffany, her friend since grade school. They’d even attended the same teaching college. Tiffany pressed the flats of her hands against her ears, attempting to block out the noise. This was her bestie’s first time assisting on the annual camping trip for their church outreach program, whereas Ashley had been helping out since she was fourteen. This year’s group of campers numbered twenty-five strong.

Tiffany cupped a hand around her mouth to be heard over the chorus behind them, her long black braids with red bows on the ends bouncing as she shook her head. They need to sing something else!

We were no different when we were kids, though the song is different. Ashley laughed. We thought we were hot stuff when we sang, ‘Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall.’

I could use one of those right now!

Ashley smirked. Tiffany Porter, you don’t like beer. Her bestie might have a tattoo—a rose on her outer calf that reflected her love of roses—but she was as straight-laced as a girl could get.

Please send wine.

Ashley took pity on her friend. Camp McLaren was still an hour away, and she grasped the duck whistle that hung around her neck. This was no ordinary whistle. One blow tempted anyone within listening distance to look overhead, expecting to see a mallard flying by. Grabbing the handle on the back of the forward seat to steady herself, she stood bracing against the slight sway of the moving bus.

One long blow and the quacking sound drew the kids’ attention. I know you’re eager to get to camp, and of course, visit Blueberry Twist for ice cream, but let’s try singing something else. How about ‘The Littlest Worm I Ever Saw’?

A tug on the bottom of her T-shirt drew Ashley’s attention, and she looked down to see a pair of wide hazel eyes staring upward. Maya Lewis was eight years old and came from a troubled family.

Ms. Ashley, I don’t know that song.

She tapped a finger on the sweet child’s nose, offering an understanding smile. Don’t feel bad. The first time I came to camp, I didn’t know it, either. I promise by the time we get halfway through it, you’ll know all the words. She turned her attention to the rest of the bus. Okay, everyone. I’ll start off. ‘The littlest worm—’

Madison, in the last row, caught her eye. Her strawberry-blonde hair was gathered in a high ponytail. In previous years, her daughter had stayed with her grandparents while Ashley spent two weeks at camp. But this year, Madison was eligible to be a counselor in training, so Ashley asked her if she’d like to give it a try. Her daughter’s eyes had brightened at the suggestion. As part of her training, Madison would oversee the younger kids. That would be a breeze for her daughter since Madison volunteered as a reading tutor as part of the outreach program connected to their church.

Madison wasn’t joining in on the singing now, setting herself apart from the kids around her. She knew the song, so why wasn’t she participating? Was she still annoyed no cell phones or tablets were allowed on the trip? As always, stepping into the mind of her fourteen-year-old was a near-impossible challenge.

The kids, caught up in their song about a worm that got caught in a drinking straw, didn’t seem aware the bus had made their turn for Soldier’s Cove. They were on the home stretch of their trip from Portland.

She’d grown up in Maine, and the small coastal village that bordered the Gulf of Maine had always appealed to her. Most of the homes were seasonal, but the locals braved the snowy, wintry weather tourists avoided. The additional charm to the village was its military coup to the Revolutionary War.

Jeffrey Webb, the owner of Camp McLaren, had documentation his great-many-times-over-grandfather served as a lieutenant in the Sixth County Regiment of the Militia in the Revolutionary War. His voice always filled with pride when he spoke about the patriots who’d built their own fort to defend his country from British invasion. The militia had received little military support despite the proximity of the British across the border in Canada.

Ashley’s excitement and apprehension built with every mile that took her closer to Soldier’s Cove and Camp McLaren. Would Tyler be at camp this year? Her luck had held every year over the past fourteen. If he was there, she was looking at a whole new set of problems. Don’t go there. Put it away. The children come first.

Twenty minutes of the song about the little worm started to tickle her ear in annoyance when the bus driver called out. Bill had been driving the bus to camp for the past twenty years and had gotten used the kids’ excitement.

Ashley, we’ll be entering camp in a few. Is drop-off at the same place?

Ashley scooted forward in her seat. Yes, Bill. To the left as we pull in, close to the office and McLaren Hall. You’ll see the other buses.

Bill pulled off the main road onto the unpaved drive.

Ashley swayed with the rock and