Sanctuary Road

By Lisa Colodny

Dayna Myles expected her life to change once she'd left New York City to return home to small-town Cedarwood, Kentucky. The life she'd shared with her musician husband, Ethan, was buried, but for the finalization of their divorce. Settling into the big house on Sanctuary Road and reconnecting with her family were on her immediate to-do l

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kingston Publishing Company
• Release date: Jan 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9781645330219

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Copyright

Sanctuary Road is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

SANCTUARY ROAD: A NOVEL

Copyright © 2019 by Lisa Colodny

All rights reserved.

Editing by KP Editing

Cover design by KP Designs

Published by Kingston Publishing Company

The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

Table of Contents

Copyright

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

About the Author

Extras

Dedication

To Mom, Dad, and Curtis, I miss you.

Chapter One

Cedarwood, Kentucky

St. Patrick's Day, 2014

The drive from the Louisville Airport was breathtaking, with red, orange, and yellow leaves painted like brush strokes onto the trees. The trunks lined together like soldiers until they converged in the empty places where the leaves were so sparse, the skeletonized frames stood dark and angry.

The Interstate was narrower than Dayna Myles remembered; it twisted and turned, maze-like, bending back on itself until the vehicles were closer than she was comfortable. More than once, she'd tapped her brakes, warning the driver behind of the traffic ahead. Years of living in New York City had left her lazy, almost lackadaisical about driving. She smiled to herself, acknowledging how her addiction to public transportation would be a liability once she'd returned to Cedarwood—the only subway in town was the one known for its sandwiches.

It was only about ninety miles north to Cedarwood, but with the curves of the narrow highway, it seemed longer, especially to infrequent visitors. Dayna wasn't sure which category she fit into. She'd been born in Cedarwood, after all, but she'd spent the past ten years living and working in New York City. True, she'd been home several times over the years, but her visits had been few and far between.

As she went through the catalog of reunions in her mind, she realized she'd only been home for weddings and funerals. She thought about the Andie McDowell movie but dismissed it almost as quickly. She was on her own again, and there would be no rat pack waiting for her to provide support, moral or otherwise.

Dayna glanced anxiously toward the passenger seat, as if embracing the possessions she held most dear: her computer, her journals, and her three-year-old collie, Millie. After the way she'd been eyeing her for the better part of a half-hour, Dayna supposed it was time for a break. She took the Shepherdsville exit and guided the car towards a Wendy's restaurant she was more than familiar with.

She was drawn to the restaurant like a lantern in a window on a dark night. Dayna exhaled an anxious breath as she might if she were meeting an old lover. In high school, the restaurant had been a frequent stop for the school buses traveling back and forth to basketball and football games. She smiled at the thought, surprised at the comfort it brought. After her mother's death, she didn't like remembering the past, but the fleeting moments slapped at her anyway, as if bullying her to tears.

It hadn't taken long to visit the ladies' room, pay for two bottles of water at the counter, and walk Millie several times around the grounds. The large restaurant sign held her attention. It had been many years since she'd thought about high school. She smiled, remembering her senior year when she and her friends had placed themselves strategically in the drive-thru line as if they were tires on a car when placing Frosty orders. Those were good times, she thought. Before her mother's death.

Now that Ethan was out of the picture, she realized there were four phases to her life: before and after her mother's death and before and after Ethan.

Her cell phone buzzed against her hip. She knew who it was before she checked the number. Her first thought was to ignore the call and forward it to voicemail, but she knew he was checking to ensure she'd arrived safely. After six years of marriage, she supposed he was entitled. Or had filing for divorce rescinded his right to worry?

Entitlement. She pondered the word in her mind. What had his act of adultery entitled her to except a life no longer recognizable as her own?

Dayna tapped impatiently on the phone. Yes? She stole awkward glances behind her, nodding as if he could see her. No, I'm not that far away. Don't worry—I could find my way blindfolded.

She closed her eyes, imagining him whispering into the phone to avoid detection from Calista, his new, live-in roommate. I'm fine, Ethan. She tapped the button, effectively concluding the conversation.

Truth be told, his new friend had nerve. Technically, she and Ethan were still married, at least for another month. The fact he'd fathered her child hadn't negated their marriage. Not as far as the law was concerned. But the law and Dayna's thoughts couldn't be on more different paths where Ethan was concerned. Robert Frost's less-traveled road had been so isolated it was undetectable, a winding, bending road to nowhere. Her marriage was over, no more than a faint memory of another time lived by different people.

Dayna slapped her leg to alert Millie they were leaving and motioned to the car, and the dog strutted obediently, almost prancing before pausing momentarily to inspect her new surroundings.

The sun setting over the horizon reminded Dayna of the need to get back en route if she wanted to get to Cedarwood before dark. She directed the car confidently back to the highway as Millie made herself comfortable in the front seat again.

Dayna's cell phone interrupted the rhythmic melody of the radio. She smiled before answering the call, having immediately recognized the number. Alex, I wasn't sure if you'd be up and about yet. She glanced at her watch before adding, I know you worked the graveyard shift last night. Dayna listened, her focus intent both on driving and responding to her cousin.

Alex's voice was tired. How far away are you?

I should be there in about an hour. Plan on bringing a change of clothes and let's make a girl's night of it.

Drive carefully. I'm not scheduled to work tonight, but I have a doctor out on maternity leave. Hopefully, I'll see you later.

Dayna disconnected the call and tossed the phone into her bag on the passenger's floor.

One thing was sure about starting this phase of her new life: it certainly would be good to connect with her family again. Even though Alex was a few years younger, they'd been close as children. As young adults, while Alex attended medical school in Lexington and Dayna worked in New York, they'd managed to stay in touch, but their encounters had decreased once Alex had returned to Cedarwood to manage the small hospital's emergency department. Dayna's own career as a writer was flourishing, and she'd traveled all over the world, capturing other cultures and peoples with a unique eye.

By the time she'd met Ethan, she'd attained a certain level of success, one that afforded her the opportunity to select projects that appealed to her, whether they were profitable or not.  Ethan's music career was just beginning, and he was playing gigs at all hours of the night. He'd already enjoyed three hit singles and a successful tour when he'd proposed.

After Dayna adjusted the volume on the radio and pushed the CD into the slot, the familiar sound of the Bee Gees burst forth, transporting her to a time of innocence and youth. She hadn't thought about her family much over the last year, but with the separation and upcoming divorce, she thought of her mother frequently. Her father, however, was another matter; she hadn't thought about him in many years, and it was a completely different kind of recollection.

Her mother had been a beautiful, confident, self-sufficient woman. Her father had been none of those things. She considered what an odd couple they must've made and felt guilty for judging him.

Dayna bit her lip, grateful for the painful distraction. What had her mom seen in him? Was there something about him she'd missed? It couldn't have been his looks, and he barely had two dimes to rub together.

Kyle Cannon's height was medium-sized for a man. He had large, dark brown eyes that looked even bigger through the thick, black eyeglass frames he wore.  His eyebrows were almost a unibrow, colliding with his hair which was cropped unevenly over his ears. Over his eyes, long, oily bangs hung thin and jagged across his nose. He wore heavy, navy trousers that hung long legs and low in the ass and crotch, making them look as if they hadn't been hemmed. During warmer weather, he seldom wore anything except a white t-shirt. When the weather was cooler, he covered up with a flannel shirt that only partially covered his stubby, hairy arms.

Dayna remembered the sound his shoes made as he walked down the stairs, heavy, black nylon shoes with soles so deep, the air had been expelled against the pressure of his weight with every step. They also made him look several inches taller.

She couldn't recall him ever taking them fishing or playing ball as kids. Dayna wasn't sure if it was a result of his lack of coordination or his nearsightedness. Technically, he was legally blind, but truth be told, he could maneuver his way in and out of every bar in Bourbon County up to twenty miles away, with and without the aid of his heavy eyewear.

Dayna had no idea how someone like Kyle Cannon had ever been able to attract a girl like Elizabeth Redman. Dayna knew her mother had been an attractive girl in a tomboyish kind of way, tall and thin, with an athletic build brought on by battling with her brothers. As the only girl, she'd learned at an early age there were no pity points for crying. It was because of that she'd grown into a fiery young woman with a sense of competition and fair play that sometimes bordered on stubbornness. Her mother wasn't a woman who easily accepted defeat. It was one of many traits she'd passed to Dayna.

She wasn't sure how her family would take the news of her failed marriage. Family was important to the Redmans. Each generation had been instilled with a sense of responsibility for each other that only grew stronger as the years went by.

Dayna knew, first-hand, how her family felt about responsibility. She could almost hear her mother's voice explain how her older brother, Garrett, had gotten his high school sweetheart, Leoda, pregnant at the tender age of seventeen. Beth's eyes would light up as she'd described how the Redman clan had rallied around them for support. Edward, the patriarch, had wasted no time in providing a small house close by but far enough away to afford the newlyweds some privacy.

It wasn't long after Beth's death that Dayna's father had packed up his few belongings and moved out of the family home. Dayna and her brother, David, had gone to live with their cousins on Uncle Bill and Aunt Megan's farm.  This would also represent the after section dividing her life into specific proportions.

All the recollection was making her tired. Dayna wished she'd started her journey earlier in the day—it would have been easier to make out some of the more prominent landmarks of Monroe County. Even in the dark, she knew she was close to the Martin's Dairy Farm; her nose told her so. Its worn, old milk smell was unlike any other scent. The Martins had been prominent figures in her home up until her mother's death. Then, like smoke, they were gone.

One by one, fragments of the once massive structure emerged from the darkness as she drove past what was left of the factory. Some buildings stood partially intact while others lay in scattered piles of metal and wood. In the darkness, some of the landscape was more familiar than others. She could make out the abandoned entrance and garage. It was easy to picture her mother's car parked in the space at the end of the lot, just inside the gate. The memory was bittersweet, and her heart ached as the property disappeared into the blackness of night.

Dayna glanced in the rearview mirror several times, hoping to hold onto her mother's impression for a bit longer. She felt her mother's spirit nearby, and she wasn't ready to let her go just yet. Was it her imagination, or had the air in the car grown cooler and thicker as if she were no longer alone?

She didn't believe in ghosts, even though she'd spent a night in a supposedly haunted house in Boston the previous Halloween for a story she'd been working on. The feeling of the presence in her car persisted. Dayna turned around slowly, expecting to see her mother's apparition in the backseat. Instead, Millie leaped over the seat, her paws scratching the console before she righted herself to peer through the passenger's window.

Millie, she said, taking her eyes off the road momentarily and rubbing the dog's head, you trying to give me a heart attack? Settle down. We should see be able to see the big church on Lebanon Avenue soon.

Within minutes, the lamp posts in front of the massive Catholic church came into view, one-by-one, until the setting was stage-like. See? she said to the dog. There it is, just as beautiful as I remember. The car slowed, and Millie stuck her head out the open window, panting as the cool air rushed inside. Witches' spring, Dayna thought, enjoying the cool air on her face. Grandpa Edward would've said we're having a witch's spring. Her next thought was of her mother. It was hard to think of one and not the other.

Dayna rubbed her forehead, hoping the ache was the result of being tired and not a migraine. She'd been plagued by migraines as a teenager growing up in Cedarwood, but once she'd gone away to college and ultimately New York, she was no longer bothered by them.

The Catholic church disappeared into the darkness just as quickly as it had appeared, taking the dull ache of her migraine along with it. The next address—Sanctuary Road—was downright plain compared to the magnificence of the Catholic church. The Baptist church was simple with its immaculate landscape of trees and shrubbery. She remembered the rhyme about April showers and May flowers, feeling good she'd be able to observe this first hand. Dayna paused near the end of the church parking lot, as if to pay her silent respects.

The Methodist church, the one she'd attended with her family, was there like an old friend, waiting patiently to greet her. It seemed smaller than she'd remembered.  When she was a child running the churchyard with her brother and cousins, it seemed as if they'd run for miles, yet there, in the sliver of moonlight that bled out a fraction of the darkness, it seemed tiny. Dayna smiled at the marque that read, Welcome Home, Dayna, before making the turn to continue along Lebanon Avenue until she finally reached her destination on the right.

If she continued along the road another few miles, she'd come upon the Lutheran church as well as the Cedarwood Protestant Church that intersected Main Street. There were five churches on the small patch of road bordering Main Street. Dayna supposed it was the origin of the road's nickname of Sanctuary Road.

She parked anxiously in front of the garage, thankful for the illumination provided by the moon. There was no need to unpack the car that night. All she needed was her overnight bag from the front seat and Millie.

Dayna made her way to the front door, enjoying the creaking sound the porch made. Millie sniffed at the bush closest to the porch, squatted, and looked up at Dayna who was fumbling for the door key as if to say, It was a long ride.

Peter said these were the keys to the front door, she said, referring to her cousin, the realtor, and the closing documents he'd mailed her.

You're doing it wrong! a voice called out before the figure stepped into the light.

Dammit, David! she stated, her hand holding her chest before opening her arms to her brother. You scared me.

Sorry. He smiled, taking the key and working it into the lock. It's an old house and an old key. David smiled deeper and bigger as if he had a secret. It's like a woman—just have to find the right spot.

Please. Dayna rolled her eyes. We aren't teenagers anymore.

He took the suitcase, followed her into the house, and closed the door. I can't believe you bought this old place.  Before she could answer, he walked from the foyer into the massive living room. I know you've always admired it. When we were kids, this was the place.

What do you mean? she pretended not to understand.

The house, he went on. The best-decorated for Halloween and Christmas. He stacked two more logs on the smoldering fire. There was always a party going on here, a picnic, something. This was the perfect place. It housed the perfect family.

No family's perfect, she reminded him. Falling into the chair closest to the fireplace, she added, Speaking of family, I thought Alex was meeting me.

Our cousin, he answered, falling close by her, was called into work, as usual.

Dayna took a moment to study him. He looked older than his years. His hair was long, dark, and greasy, and he wrapped it behind his ear every chance he got. There's food in the pantry and refrigerator if you're hungry. It was more of a question than a statement. The way he'd zipped and unzipped his torn, stained jacket and rubbed his hands up and down against the fabric of his worn denim jeans, she couldn't help but think he seemed nervous.

I'm not hungry. And you're a good brother. It was sweet of you to get everything ready for me. Feels like home already, with the fire burning and all.

Jessica took care of the inside, he answered, referring to their cousin's wife. He stood up. "Sam took care of the outside. Construction business slows up a bit this time of year. Sam did most of the drawings and designs, I just helped make them happen.

It's good to have you home again, Dayna. He stood up and embraced her. I'll stop by tomorrow. Just call if you need anything.

Where did you unload all the stuff from Grandpa Edwards?

"Most everything from the old house is in the garage, but I did put some trunks of Mom's in the attic until you've had a chance to