The Long Road Home

By Judith Bozeman

 

Katherine Peterson left her hometown of Kerryville, Ga., almost ten years ago. A late-night phone call informs her that her mother has asked for her, and Katherine realizes she must reconcile with her mother and her sister Julie to settle past issues. With Katherine is Allison, an adorable little girl with blonde pigtails and blue eyes.

Unfortunately, the first person Katherine sees when she arrives home is Alan Connor. Alan is the first and only man she has ever loved. Katherine is dismayed to discover that his smoldering good looks still have the power to take her breath away. It doesn't help that his brilliant blue eyes are the same color as nine-year-old Allison's.

Katherine is thrown further off balance when she finds that her mother is critically ill, her sister is missing, and her childhood best friend, Janie, is cold and unwelcoming.

Her mother's death the day after she returns and the reappearance of her missing sister set off an eruption that opens a twenty-five-year-old crime that will place Katherine in danger, but worse, could separate her from the child she loves so dearly.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Judith Bozeman
• Release date: Nov 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215889978

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

L ookit all that red dirt.

From the driver’s seat of her seven-year-old Chevy, Katherine Peterson glanced over at Allison, her nine-year-old daughter. Allison had unbuckled her seat belt and was on her knees. Her nose was pressed against the window glass. Katherine smiled indulgently and turned her attention back to the interstate traffic. She was amused, as always, by the child’s delightful enthusiasm. Allison was a happy child, and her energy level always ran on high octane, even more so now that she’d been confined in an automobile for the last two days.

That’s genuine Georgia red clay, you ignorant little Yankee, Katherine teased. The farmers are just now getting the fields ready for planting. Come summer, that’ll be a cotton field.

Well, how am I supposed to know?" Allison asked cheerfully.

Katherine laughed. I suppose you’re not. Then the mother in her added, Sit down and put your seatbelt back on.

Katherine waited for the usual barrage of questions, but for the moment, it appeared that Allison’s attention was captivated by the unfamiliar Georgia countryside. She was grateful for the child’s distraction.

They would be home soon, and she was worried.

Katherine didn’t know what kind of reception they would receive when they reached her mother’s house. Her relationship with her mother, cold and distant as far back as she could remember, had been non-existent for the last ten years. She wasn’t even sure if she would be allowed past the front door.

But Mother won’t be there, she reminded herself.

Three nights ago she’d been shaken from a sound sleep by a phone call. Groggy and confused, it took a moment for her to comprehend that the caller with the distinct southern accent was Larry Spencer, her mother’s long-time assistant. It took another moment before she realized that he was telling her that her mother, the indomitable Amanda Peterson, was in the hospital and Katherine must come home.

Home. Amanda.

Katherine clutched the phone tightly, thinking of her mother while trying to assimilate everything she’d just been told.

I hope you’re not worried about whether or not you’ll be welcome at your mother’s house, Larry’s voice jolted her back to awareness.

Of course not, she quickly denied. A lie, but she didn’t want to discuss her family relationship with Larry Spencer. How serious is it? Did she have a heart attack?

No, no, her heart’s fine.

But it’s serious enough that you called me in the middle of the night. Why didn’t my sister call me? She waited for his answer, but he was curiously silent. Katherine decided that it didn’t matter right now.

She hesitated, but only slightly. There were dozens of reasons why she should tell Larry no, she wouldn’t come. However, there was one especially important reason why she should.

I’ll come, but I need a couple of days to make arrangements.

Over the phone line, she heard Larry sigh deeply. Call me when you have your flight information. I’ll arrange to have someone meet you in Atlanta.

Thanks, but that’s not necessary. I have a car, so I’d rather drive.

Lowering his voice, he said, My dear, if it’s a question of money, I’ll be glad to help.

I said that I would drive," Katherine stated firmly.

Money was part of her decision, but she would never admit that to Larry Spencer. Her salary at the bookstore barely stretched far enough for essentials. That didn’t include airline tickets, but she wouldn’t allow him to foot the bill. She’d come home under her own steam; her pride couldn’t tolerate anything less.

Also, the two-day drive between Chicago and Kerryville in south Georgia would give her the mental time to prepare to face her family again.

Katherine, Larry said respectfully, your mother would expect me to take care of your expenses.

Katherine doubted that, but she kept the thought to herself. I’ll stay at Mother’s. Will you let my sister know I’m coming?

Don’t worry about Julie. Everything will be ready when you get here, Larry assured her. Just come straight to the house. It’ll be open for you, and please call me as soon as you get here. After that, there wasn’t anything left to say.

Long after Larry hung up, Katherine sat on the edge of the bed thinking about her mother and Julie. Although going back to Kerryville might have dire consequences, she’d always known she’d have to return home. She’d purposely put it off for years, but now Amanda’s illness gave her the impetus she needed to make it happen.

Now, she and Allison were on the last leg of their journey, and once they were through the Atlanta maze, there were only a couple more hours to their destination. After Atlanta, she found that except for additional fast-food restaurants dotting the interstate exits, not too much had changed, and Katherine keenly felt the familiarity of coming home.

With a pang, she realized how much she’d missed her home state of Georgia. Even the brown, murky-colored creeks the interstate rolled over grabbed at her heart. She was thrilled when she caught a glimpse of early wildflowers growing on the side of the highway.

In Chicago, winter was still in full swing, but this far south spring was making its presence known. Southern born and bred, to Katherine, spring meant the heady smell of freshly turned earth, multi-colored azaleas blooming profusely, soon followed by the delicate petals of blooming dogwood. It was a special time of year that attacked all of the senses.

After all of the years in exile, she was looking forward to the delights of springtime in South Georgia, and any anxieties about seeing her family again were overshadowed by anticipation.

Mama, how come I never met my grandma?

Allison’s unexpected question jarred Katherine out of her musings. Over the years she had glossed over any questions regarding grandparents or aunts and uncles. Allison knew she had an Aunt Julie and a grandmother, but they were vague shadowy figures since she had never met them. Of course, all of her friends had the usual assortment of relations, so it was only natural that Allison would wonder why she and her mother were different. Katherine was only surprised that Allison had waited until they were almost there before she began to ask questions and she braced herself to find the right answers.

It’s a long story, honey, she said slowly, silently acknowledging that she was stalling. Buckle your seat belt. She reminded gently.

Did you have a fight?

No, not really, Katherine floundered, unsure what to say. The shrewdness of children never failed to astonish her and Allison was exceptional in that regard.

Buckling her seat belt, Allison persisted, Well, what then?

Katherine sighed deeply. I guess you could say we fought, but it was more of a difference of opinion than a fight.

What’s that mean?

Her gaze flickered over to Allison. Her elfin little face was bright with interest, and Katherine realized she might be unable to sidestep the answer this time.

Oh, she didn’t let me do a lot of things and she wanted to choose my friends. Your grandmother likes to tell people what to do. An oversimplification, of course.

Changing the subject, she added, When you do meet your grandmother, don’t call her Grandmother unless she gives permission.

Okay, Allison said agreeably. What am I supposed to call her?

Why don’t we just wait and let her decide.

Allison’s silence told Katherine she was working it out in her mind. After a moment, she asked, Who were your friends she didn’t like?

Slightly hesitating again, Katherine kept her gaze on the traffic and fell back on the old standby answer she’d used in the past. My goodness, you’re certainly full of questions today.

Katherine winced inwardly as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Coward, she thought, despising herself for being so evasive. She knew there would come a time when the child wouldn’t allow her to get away with such a lame answer.

After a long silence she realized that this wasn’t going to be one of those times as Allison appeared willing to let the subject drop. Katherine let out a sigh of guilty relief. Allison’s questions were disconcerting, especially right now, because she couldn’t tell Allison that Amanda’s illness wasn’t the only reason they were going home. Considering her relationship with her family, she could have easily ignored Larry’s request.

No, the reason behind her decision to come home went far deeper than Amanda’s illness. There were too many open issues in her and Allison’s lives, and coming home was the only answer. Only in Kerryville could the past be resolved. Aside from Katherine’s relationship with Amanda and Julie, there was a far more important issue to resolve. And that issue was the crux of why they were returning to Kerryville.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, Katherine thought about what this entailed: Dealing with Julie. Dealing with her sister had never been easy under any circumstance; nevertheless, it had to be done. In her favor was the fact that she wasn’t the frightened young girl she’d once been.

Katherine again glanced over at Allison and saw that she was curling up in her seat for a nap. Letting out a deep breath, she pushed aside her worries regarding the conflicts ahead and forced herself to relax. After a few minutes, she felt the tenseness give way, and she settled comfortably in her seat to enjoy the Georgia countryside.

Sitting across from Larry Spencer’s desk at the Kerryville State Bank, Alan Connor glanced at his watch. Watching Larry fiddle with the file folders on his desk, it was obvious he was killing time, and Alan’s impatience grew. He was in the middle of spring plowing, and this meeting appeared to be an unnecessary interruption.

Can we get this started, Larry? he asked with annoyance. I’ve got a lot of work waiting.

Larry set aside the file. Of course. I was just trying to get my thoughts in order.

You said it had something to do with my father’s mortgage, he prompted. If there’s a problem with that, I don’t understand why you wanted to talk to me instead of Dad.

Larry pursed his lips. Whether or not there’s a problem depends on how you look at it. You know I advised John not to take out this mortgage, aren’t you?

Allen shrugged indifferently. I know that, but Dad wanted to buy new farm equipment and make some improvements to the house. Unless there’s a problem I don’t know about, I’m positive that he’s never missed a payment or even been late for a payment.

He’s had the mortgage, what? Eight years now? I believe there are about seven more years to go before it’s paid out.

So far, he wasn’t saying anything Alan didn’t already know. Six and a half, to be exact.

Larry scanned the file again. Hmm, yes, I can see that you’re right. However, in case John hasn’t told you, I thought you should know that the bank sold the mortgage.

Alan leaned back in his chair and eyed Larry with a cold expression. I assume my father knows.

Well, of course, he knows. It’s a common occurrence. As a former bank employee, you should know that.

I worked for the bank while I was in college, and that was only part-time during semester breaks, Alan reminded him.

Larry cleared his throat. Did your father tell you?

Alan ignored the question. Why are you telling me now?

Since the mortgage is in your father’s name, there was no reason for me to tell you before, but there’s been a development I thought you should know about.

A development. What kind of development?

Amanda Peterson owns the Mortgage Company that bought John’s note.

Alan had heard that Amanda formed a small mortgage company a few years before she retired from the bank. He didn’t know that the company owned John’s mortgage. Personally, he didn’t like the idea; however, he made it a policy not to interfere in his father’s business unless John requested his help. So?

Larry leaned forward and lowered his voice. I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but Amanda has cancer. In the last few months, she’s been going downhill, and she went into the hospital a few days ago. If she dies, that could affect all the loans owned by the company.

"What kind of effect?

I hated to worry you prematurely. There was just enough sincerity in his voice for Alan to recognize it as the crock of baloney it was. After all, she could recover. At least from this crisis.

Gritting his teeth, Alan repeated, What kind of effect?

Larry shook his head. Ethically, I can’t.

Don’t pull that pious crap with me, Larry. That’s why you got me in here, isn’t it?

Larry’s eyes gleamed maliciously. A lot depends on whether Amanda leaves the company to Julie or Katherine.

Katherine? Larry’s revelation left Alan speechless for a moment. No, that was impossible. Katherine had turned her back on everything in Kerryville years ago, and no one knew that better than he.

He shook his head dismissively. I can’t imagine that it would be Katherine. She’s been gone too many years. I can’t imagine her ever coming back.

Oh, she’ll be back. I talked to her myself just this morning. She’ll be here sometime this afternoon. Larry leaned forward and lowered his voice. Alan, listen to me. Perhaps it’s time for John to sell. You went into law rather than farming, so the farm can’t mean that much to you. The place is just too much for your father. You’re putting in the crop for him again this year, aren’t you?

Alan narrowed his eyes at Larry when he realized the real purpose of the meeting. Larry had been trying to get John to sell the farm for the last year, which Alan knew his father would never consider. It would break the old man’s heart to sell out, and besides, Larry was wrong about the farm meaning nothing to him. The farm had been in his family for generations.

Allen glanced down at his faded jeans and dusty boots. He’d come to the bank straight from the field, and although he hated to admit it, Larry was right about it being too much for one man. For the last two years, he’d been dividing his time between his law practice in Tifton and the farm, and it seemed that every year the farm demanded more and more.

I suppose you’ve got a buyer in mind.

Larry leaned back in his chair and smiled complacently. I’ll be glad to help in any way I can.

I’m sure you will, Alan said smoothly. He picked up his hat on Larry’s desk and rose from his chair. If that’s all you wanted to tell me, I’ve got plowing to do.

It’s a shame that John’s farm went to the finance company in the first place, Larry’s silky voice followed him to the door. If I’d known then what I know now, it wouldn’t have happened.

Alan paused at the door and turned around. What are you getting at now?

What if Amanda violated some law when she sold the mortgage to her own company, or what if she weren’t thinking clearly? If it could be proved that Amanda wasn’t rational when all that happened, maybe John wouldn’t have to worry about heirs and such.

As much as Allen hated to admit it, it was an intriguing thought. Exactly when was the mortgage sold?

About two years before she retired.

Alan thought about that for a moment and then shook his head. Amanda was still running the bank back then and healthy as a horse. Knowing Amanda, I’m sure none of the banks' funds were involved.

Then I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what the heir wants to do with the company. Larry leaned back and watched Alan intently.

Alan clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to toss him through the window. Larry liked to stir up little intrigues and refused to be drawn in. Again, he turned to leave when he realized what Larry had just said.

Then, thinking like a lawyer, he asked, How the hell do you know what Amanda put in her will?

Larry’s lips tightened, and the flush that colored his face answered the question.

I didn’t think so, Alan growled. Spinning on his heel, he stalked through the door.

Before he shut the door, he saw Larry reaching for the phone.

Janie Adams Willis was in her kitchen making cookies when the phone rang. She started to clean her hands so she could answer it when she saw her six-year-old son, Adam, frown at her. Of course, he wanted to finish the cookies, so she let the answering machine take the call. With half an ear, she listened to the message coming through.

Janie, this is Larry Spencer. You don’t need to call me back. I just wanted to let you know that Katherine Peterson is coming home. Since you two were always such good friends, I thought you’d like to know.

Janie’s body froze. Katherine? Did Larry say Katherine Peterson was coming home?

Mommy, who was that? Who’s Katherine Peterson? Adam demanded.

No... no one important, she managed to say. Janie slid the filled cookie sheet into the oven. Her heart was beating faster than normal, but she couldn’t allow Adam to see how upset she was.

Smiling brightly at him, she suggested, Why don’t you go play in your room? I’ll call when the cookies are ready.

Adam’s lower lip jutted out. No. I want to wait for the cookies.

Unusual for her, Adam’s whiney tone grated on her nerves, and she snapped at him. Do as I say!

Surprised out of his pout, Adam stared at his mother, a stunned look on his face. Then he scrambled off the chair he’d been standing on and ran to his room. Barely aware when her son left the room, Janie sank into the chair, thinking about Larry’s message.

Katherine was coming home.

Janie was torn when she felt the first tendrils of fear starting to curl around her. On the one hand, it would be good to see her. After all, Katherine had been her best friend when they were growing up. On the other hand, she hadn’t seen Katherine for many years, and many things had changed. Janie thought back to that wintry night when Katherine left Kerryville. It was the last time Janie had seen her. After years of being best friends, she resented Katherine for dropping out of her life so easily. To be fair, Katherine had written quite a few times, but Janie couldn’t write back. Even though she was a junior in college at the time, her mother had forbidden her to answer any of Katherine’s letters, and Janie always obeyed her mother.

But why now? After all these years, why would she come now? She’ll upset all my plans, Janie thought frantically. She’ll just waltz back into town and spoil everything.

The oven timer went off, abruptly yanking her out of her self-induced panic. Janie rose to take the cookies out of the oven, and it occurred to her that she’d hurt Adam’s feelings. Resentfully, she realized that she’d have to make up with him by letting him eat more cookies than was good for him.

And it was all Katherine’s fault.

Katherine’s foot eased off the gas pedal as she approached her exit. Kerryville was a short drive from the interstate, just a shade over thirty miles, and it seemed like no time before she passed the sign that read Kerryville City Limits. Approaching the town center, she passed a row of houses with neat front lawns and wooden front porches. All painted a pristine white.

Each house had varying paint colors on its shutters to establish its identity. Each porch also had at least two rocking chairs. Briefly, she looked over at Allison to see how she was enjoying her first glimpse of Kerryville, but she was still curled up in the seat, fast asleep.

Deciding not to disturb her, Katherine smiled wistfully, remembering warm summer evenings and sitting on her mother’s porch in Betty Sue Hanson’s generous lap. Betty Sue was Amanda’s housekeeper, and more importantly, she was the cornerstone in Katherine’s lonely little world when she was a small child.

Once past the houses, she approached the center of town and slowed the car. As were so many small towns, Kerryville was built around a square with the ever-present Confederate War monument taking center stage. Whimsically, she decided to take the circle through town.

She made the circle slowly, gratified to note that there were few changes even after ten years. She felt much as she had all those years ago when returning home from the boarding school Amanda sent her to when she was barely in her teens. She noted that a dry cleaning business was added next to the old Rexall Drug store. The drug store was named Prescott’s after the family who owned it and had been a favorite hang-out for Katherine and her best friend, Janie Adams, during summer vacations.

Now, through the large, plate-glass window, she could see the long counter in front of the soda fountain. Since it was after school hours, kids of various ages were perched on round stools. As she had done a lifetime ago, they were most likely slurping up some wonderful ice cream concoction before going home to do homework. Just thinking about that ice cream was enough to make her mouth water.

Next to Prescott’s, the dry goods store was still open though the name on the front was different than she remembered. On the other side of that building, Charlie Haley’s barbershop was no longer there. The sign on the window now advertised antiques for sale. Down a side street, she could see the edge of the building that housed the Kerryville Police Department, and she wondered if her mother’s good friend, Chet