202 Canterbury Lane: Ashbrook, Montana Saga

By Merri Maywether

Genevieve thought she was embarking on a cruise for a bridal shower, where she could enjoy a little girl time and recoup from her hectic life. Instead, she comes face-to-face with her childhood crush and is bombarded by feelings she thought were long since dead. Unfortunately, she's been burned by love and isn't eager to open that door again any time soon.

Country singer, Travis Trent, longs for a woman he can trust after suffering through an ugly divorce. When he heard Genevieve was going to be on a three-day long party on a cruise ship, he jumped at the chance to reconnect with her. While he always had feelings for her, being best friends with her brother prevented him from acting on them.

Now, he finds himself with a fresh new dilemma. He can write great music, but he can't talk to the one woman who makes his heart flip.

Can he find the words to convince her to risk opening her heart to true love? Or will their chance at happiness pass like ships in the night?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Merri Maywether
• Release date: Dec 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223616795

Merri Maywether

Twenty years ago, Merri Maywether went on a date with a very sweet man from Montana. Three weeks later they were engaged and they have lived happily ever after. This is Merri taking over the biography section...When I write my romance novels, the characters are the people that I see on a day to day basis. Up here in what I like to call the far, far north, people work hard, live fiercely, and love knowing that they have a community of people behind them. We support each other through the hardships and celebrate the victories. The best part...similar to the characters in my stories, at the end of a long day or a rough week we have stories to share for the years to come.

Book preview

1

TIME TO GET AWAY

Lance and Genevieve Jenkins were far from perfect, but they’d walk on water for those they loved, which was why Genevieve’s personal life was on hold. They had an ailing father with needs that demanded a lot of time.

Time Genevieve was glad to give.

Every once in a while, Lance would stay with their father to give Genevieve a reprieve. This was one of those times. In a couple of hours, she’d be on a plane that would take her to the port for a Pacific Coast cruise.  

For four days–only four days, Lance would be responsible for their father’s well-being. 

Add time for one day of travel, and it would be five days of bonding between father and son with mirror-image personalities. Both were always right, knew what was best, and were unyielding. When it was just the two of them without Genevieve, Lance would need some help.

Ergo the list. 

On the fridge, she’d posted the foods Dad liked, the foods he couldn’t eat because of medical interactions, and the foods he tried to sneak.

His night-time routine was taped beside their father’s nightstand.

 A laminated chart of his morning programs was taped on the wall beside the television.

A thought for another list pushed its way to the front of Genevieve’s mind. She rifled through the top dresser drawer for a pen. This small index of suggestions would have to be in her neatly printed handwriting–on a piece of paper bordered by flowers. She read the heading aloud. Things Dad likes to do during the day?

He’s my father too. I think I can figure it out.

Genevieve’s nerves tightened like a plucked guitar string. She suffocated the yelp before it had a chance to escape. She was used to hearing her father’s voice, thinned with age, not her brother’s baritone voice that matched his rather large body. She relaxed her shoulders and slowly took in a breath to slow her pulse and smooth her insides that crumpled like a note hidden by an errant child. 

 You need this vacation. His voice, filled with concern, told her she had failed. He had seen the tension that accompanied the roles that had been switched by the passing of time. Genevieve was the caretaker, and their father was the one who needed help to do the things that used to be simple.

The last thing Genevieve wanted was for Lance to notice how stressed she was. Then he’d push harder to put their father in a home.

I’m nervous. It was only half a lie. I’m not good with big social scenes. 

The truth was, the last time she had a weekend break from caring for her father, Genevieve learned she had a little bit of a wild streak.

That will not happen this time. 

This time she’d be with friends. They’d buffer her against impulsive decisions. Their companionship would save her from weeks of post-vacation angst.

This time she’d have memories that would refresh her

The playful tone in Lance’s voice couldn’t hide the concern in his eyes. Is that the excuse you’re using to explain why you don’t date? 

Genevieve placed a hand on her hip. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. Then she stuck out her tongue to punctuate her defiance.

Lance sat on the edge of the full-size bed covered in a quilt; their mother began, and her Aunt Rachel finished in memoriam. 

He patted the space beside him, signaling the beginning of the talk. The same talk they had every time he visited. The one where Lance prodded Genevieve to get out more, and she’d squirm until their father, under the guise of needing help, ran interference.

Obliging Lance, his brotherly concern, she sat beside him and noted their similarities. With the exception of him having gray eyes and her eyes being light brown, Genevieve and Lance looked more like twins than older brother and younger sister. She was the kind one. He was the one who was a little rough around the edges, but had good intentions.

You know, if you told us you were gay, we wouldn’t think any less of you. It bothered Genevieve how hopeful he sounded when he said, You could have your girlfriend come in as a roommate.

Lance! I am not gay. Genevieve’s face burned from the rush of heat. Waves of discomfort slid through her. Talking about relationships with her overprotective brother was the last thing on her list of things she’d like to do.

Genevieve on her own and Genevieve with her family were two different people. In her day-to-day life with her father, she was organized, orderly, demure.

Her friends were privy to her sassy and colorful persona. The one who preferred deep red lipstick, fake eyelashes, and colorful clothes that complimented her hourglass figure.

One time, Lance saw her out with her friends. His mouth was agape just before he said, You’re a photograph of our mother come to life. 

Lance unintentionally divulged to Genevieve what everyone was probably saying behind her back. She was a walking memorial of the woman taken from her family too soon.  Her visage was an unpleasant reminder of an event the people of Ashbrook tried but couldn’t erase.  

For their peace of mind, she stifled her personality, and that was okay because she had four days to cut loose and be comfortable in her own skin. 

His attention wandered to the pictures on the wall as though they would give hints of the person he suspected to be Genevieve’s significant other. The house is big enough. She’d be able to help with Dad. 

A flash of a smile crossed his features. He had seen the picture of Lance, her father, and Lance’s best friend, Travis, on her nightstand. They were standing in thigh-deep water, holding a fish that spanned all three of their bodies.

Do you want me to connect you with some of my friends that are still single? His soft gray eyes, resembling fog, hid the intention behind his statement. They did that when Lance tried to hide his motives.

A streak of disappointment with herself rippled through Genevieve. It was beyond time for her to let go of her lingering feelings for Travis. Since he’d married, it had been clear that he was Lance’s friend, and she’d only been accepted because she was his sister. 

She opened the nightstand drawer and tucked the picture beneath some papers. No, thank you. Genevieve stopped before she said something they both would regret.

I’m content being single. Genevieve lowered her voice to show that she’d thought things through. Some people don’t need to be around crowds for entertainment. After being with senior citizens all day, even if it’s only part-time, I have enough memories and wisdom to keep me balanced for a lifetime.

Or, you do too much to take care of our father, and it’s interfering with your chance to have a life. The gentleness in Lance’s voice removed the sting from the truth.

Genevieve wanted to say that she had a life. She got to spend evenings watching reruns of classic movies with their father. She worked at the library in the senior center. She trained for half-marathons over the weekends with her cousin, Kate, and best friend, Amanda. It may not have been a life as exciting as Lance’s, but it was hers, and Genevieve cherished every minute of it.

She pointed at the half-packed suitcase. I’m going on a cruise. See, a life. A life of adventure.

 You still can’t lie. Lance placed his arm affectionately around her shoulder. Your voice does that thing where you sound more like a Disney character than a person. I get it. Making sure we keep our promise to Dad is important. Still, we need to come up with a better plan. Otherwise, when Dad joins Mom, which could be any time, you’re going to be alone for real. I don’t want to go to your funeral six months later because you died of broken heart syndrome.

A beat before Genevieve was about to confess that she wasn’t good at dating, Lance continued his taunt, If you don’t find a guy soon, I will bring my single friends around.

You’d never. Genevieve shuddered at the thought. There was nothing wrong with her brother’s friends. The ones she met doled comments about her domestic skills like she was a contestant on those talent shows. She shuddered. Dating one of them would be more of the same of life like it was with her father.

Try me, little sister. I’m alone with Dad for the next four days, which is plenty of time for me to go through all the contacts on my phone.

Lance set his hands on his thighs and rose to leave the room. He spun around to face Genevieve and winked before walking out the door.

Genevieve called after him, Was that a playful or threatening wink? I can’t tell.

You’ll never know. The hallway reverberated with his mock-maniacal laugh.

2

FOUR DAYS

Travis Trent arrived at the gate to board his plane to Seattle at the last minute. He had his hat tucked to his eyebrows.

Regret taunted him.

If he had remembered his fake glasses, the other travelers would have thought he was an architect, an accountant, or some other job that didn’t catch people’s attention. But he had forgotten, which meant the chances of someone recognizing a chart-topping country singer, even in the bustle of the Seattle airport, were likely. In his peripheral vision, he caught some people taking pictures with their cell phones. This meant the media would know, report, and inquire about his destination in a matter of minutes.

Disgust churned, twisting his insides. Travis tightened his gut against the anger he wanted so badly to spew all over them. The media outlets crucified his reputation for the measly price of clicks and likes and boosts to their visibility. The boy next door, country singer, could give his wife love, limelight, and songs that stirred romantic flames in his fans’ lives. Travis Trent couldn’t give her the one thing she wanted—a child that looked like both of them. So, she left him. But that wasn’t the story they told.

They ran with the story that caught more attention. The one about the man whose arms she ran into.

Now the sharks were on the lookout for more material. It wouldn’t be anything that had to do with him. Not today.

Travis tucked his baseball cap lower and kept his gaze straight ahead. If he acted like the several other bearded men who walked around with a leave me alone vibe, people might believe it. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, but he waited until he was in his seat to read the message.

Genevieve is excited about the cruise.

Genevieve. Just thinking about her brought a smile to his lips. She had inspired half of his songs. She had been the measuring stick Travis used against all women. She was the one he wasn’t allowed to go after because her older brother declared Travis not good enough.

That was until Lance figured out his protection had warped into an anchor that was slowly drowning Genevieve.

Even now, Lance was not operating under the guise of altruism. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was, Travis had his chance. Lance had called asking Travis to go on a cruise with Genevieve. The only hitch. She didn’t know he was going.

Travis was tasked with crashing a wedding party. Oh, the press would have a field day if they caught scent of the scheme.

From the very inception of the idea, skepticism scratched at Travis like a collar on a nice shirt that was a little too stiff. He pulled at it and wriggled but couldn’t resist the invitation.

What had changed Lance’s mind?

It was simple. Lance’s consequences had come to haunt him.

Genevieve was going on a cruise with her friends. Thanks to Lance, she was the only single person in the group. It was only a matter of time before she’d notice what was obvious to those on the outside looking in.

She’ll have fun the first couple of days, but after that— The silence was thick with guilt. By the end of her getaway with her friends, Genevieve would see the cost of her sacrifice. When she got home, she’d be able to measure it against her brother’s happiness. Genevieve was a gorgeous single woman who lived with her father. Lance had a wife and two children that he took on family vacations every year.

But that wasn’t why Travis was going on the cruise. Four words paid for the ticket. This is your chance.

It was Lance’s unspoken apology.

Granted, it came twenty years too late.

But a chance at love never taken was worse than the thwarted attempt of a lovestruck seventeen-year-old boy. For the sake of their friendship, Travis allowed the past to remain where it belonged and looked ahead to the near future. He’d be on a cruise ship with Genevieve and their high school friends for four days.

Travis’s palms sweat every time he thought about talking to Genevieve. Did he have it in him to tell her that she was the golden-skinned woman he sang about in his songs, or that he dreamed of dancing with her barefoot in the kitchen?

Before life was complicated, she looked at him like he was her knight in shining armor. Could he say the right things, and she’d find those feelings again?

He had four days.

Four days to make up for a lifetime of missed opportunities.

Four days to connect the past with the future.

Four days wasn’t enough, but it was all he had.

3

SOMEBODY LIKES YOU

Genevieve’s arms flailed under the pressure of her brother’s embrace. His hug was tighter. Usually, they touched shoulders, and Lance tapped her back three times as though to say, I’ve had my fill of sibling affection. His squeeze left Genevieve feeling like he was committing their last moments to memory.

He isn’t telling me something.

She wagged her finger. I better come home and find everything the way I left it.

With her luck and his charisma, he’d sell the house and have all their belongings moved to Bozeman, Montana.

Lance held his hands in his no-harm-no-foul gesture. He quickly shifted to his playful brother mode. The menacing aura of his six-foot-tall linebacker frame and lumberjack beard disappeared when he tucked his hands in his pocket and nudged her with his elbow. Remember, this is your chance to relax. The edges of his eyes crinkled with the appearance of his playful grin. If you happen to meet someone special–that would be a bonus.

Genevieve rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. I doubt I’ll be in a position to make a love connection. The combined bachelorette and bachelor party for her friends Sam and Kate would offer little opportunity for distraction.

I get the feeling things will be different. Just know whoever it is. I approve. Lance winked and kissed her on the forehead. Go have fun.

Her body prickled with the weight of his attention until she was on the other side of the Great Falls airport security checkpoint. Like a loose string in the middle of a sweater, her brother’s odd behavior niggled at Genevieve’s conscience. In their younger days, anyone who cast a glance toward her, was the recipient of Lance’s barely veiled grumbles, chest rumbling growls, and piercing glares. What had changed?

Up until now, Lance seemed content with the way things were. Thanks to Genevieve’s lack of a significant other, he had the freedom to be a devoted father and husband. Not that Genevieve minded. The dating pool was lacking, and her life had a purpose.

Most importantly, she cared for the parent that had been left behind.

A rush of excitement filled her when her gaze fell on her two familiar faces. Amanda and her husband, Rick, were the image of the cozy family people saw on social media. He had a close shaved beard and stunning eyes. She had trimmed her hair to a shoulder-length bob, looking bookish yet cute. Their son, Caleb, had a tousle of wavy light brown hair. Amanda’s sunglasses were on the top of her head. Rick, in his flannel shirt over an olive-green t-shirt and light-weight jeans, could have been a model for an international travel magazine. Their heads were tilted toward each other. Rick’s face was animated while he read a book to Caleb.

A twinge of pride touched the edges of Genevieve’s lip, giving them a soft curl. Last summer, Amanda was at odds with Rick. Instead of bending to be the person she thought he wanted, Amanda forged her own path. Their relationship filled Genevieve with hope. Sometimes love was worth the growing pains.

She searched for the rest of the wedding party. Another jolt of this is real struck her when she found Kate’s brother, Victor. In true form, standing beside his cousin, Eric.

From the time they could walk, Victor and Eric were inseparable. Even after marrying and building their own families. It wouldn’t surprise Genevieve, in the least, if the two cousins, that looked like twins, one day, became a variety of YouTube farmers. They spoke about what they wanted and could laugh at their blunders. People often stared when they passed Eric and Victor, who had stunning light brown eyes with gold irises, decisive jaws, and the aura of someone who was proud of what they did for a living. The button-down shirts tucked into their belted pants made it obvious to all. They were farmers.

Both were in front of the window, pointing at the plane with their young sons in hand. Their storybook lives also came with tenacity and moments of personal growth. Eric and Victor married women who were equally as strong in character. Eric had to be tenacious when Cupid’s arrow struck. His wife, Gina, used his childhood antics as a cautionary tale to keep him at bay. It didn’t work, and it was funny to watch the back and forth, which made their happy ending one that everyone celebrated.

Victor’s wife, Mayra, was the friend group’s mother hen. She was spunky, stylish, and smart. She was also determined. Once Mayra got an idea in her head, it was better to go along with it.

Where were they?

Gina and Mayra, each holding a coffee tumbler, came up alongside Genevieve. Gina had grown to embrace the mom look. Her long wavy hair was in a messy ponytail that was losing the struggle to contain the curls, and she wore a purse diagonally across her chest. If Mayra wasn’t careful, with her headband that matched her capri pants and crisp white shirt, she’d be mistaken for an off-duty flight attendant. She was a head shorter than Gina, but that seemed to add to her personality.

Mayra gushed like a proud mother. You made it!

Did you think I wouldn’t? Genevieve’s eyes dared them to contradict her. They knew the pains she went through to make sure she could join the fun. As soon as she heard about the cruise, she juggled appointments that had to be made months in advance, called in favors for people to check on her brother and father, and enlisted Mayra’s help prepping meals to make sure her father and brother resisted the urge to eat at the Elderberry Café every night.

Nothing would get in the way of this trip.

Mayra waved her coffee cup to point toward the Lewis and Clark display at the edge of the waiting area. I think someone is interested in you.

Hmmm? Whispers of lines formed at the edges of Gina’s eyes. She raised her brows and tipped her head in the direction of the person she wanted Genevieve to see.

The first thing Genevieve noticed was her cousin Kate’s fiancé, Sam. Sam’s face was worn from years of working in the sun, but his eyes had the glimmer that said he could laugh given the slightest reason. He talked animatedly with a man she couldn’t recognize. A tickling sensation that came with knowing somebody urged her to look again.

Waves of energy flared with every detail.

The way his jeans fit his body.

The way his athletic shoes angled slightly.

The way his arms rested on his chest.

The head shake in lieu of laughter did it.

Genevieve’s stomach lurched so hard she pressed her hand against it to calm the ripple threatening to force the cinnamon roll she had just eaten back to her throat.

She swerved away from the group. Tell me he’s still not looking over here.

Kate seemed to appear from nowhere. He’s looking over here.

Had he been there all along? Genevieve’s chest burned from the deep breath she gulped in.

The beginnings of a tension headache tapped at the sides of her forehead.

Rubbing her temples in a circular motion, Genevieve closed her eyes and tried to think through the situation. Only one flight left the gate, which meant he was riding the same plane.

She tipped her head to point to the man talking to Sam. Remember that time I went on that date, and the guy never called back?

Kate’s mouth formed a perfect circle. No way.

The tension traveled down behind her ears to Genevieve’s shoulders. She murmured, I do not know what to do. She scanned the gate to find an escape.

Clusters of travelers sat in front of a faux fireplace. Keeping in line with the wilderness motif, a deer head hung off to the right of the fireplace. Below the head, a sign pointed in the direction of the bathroom. Seeing her solution, Genevieve said, I’ll be back in a minute.

Focused solely on her destination, the room blurred. Just as she pushed open the gray stall door, the cinnamon roll made it into the toilet.

Amanda’s concerned voice came through the stall door. Is everything okay?

Fighting for breath, Genevieve gasped. Yes. Her struggle for air forced her to admit otherwise. Okay, maybe no. She clawed through her purse to find her inhaler. It had been a long time since she’d been stressed enough for her body to rebel as strongly as it had.

Genevieve wanted to go home–or hide in a ditch. Her mind whipped through plausible excuses. What could she say gracefully that would gain her cousins’