Comfort Side Of Heaven Read online

  Comfort Side of Heaven

  Vera Quinn

  Contents

  Title

  Thank You:

  Author’s Thoughts…

  Blurb

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Also by Vera Quinn

  Contact or follow me:

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2018 by Vera Quinn

  Cover design by Tracie Douglas @ Dark Water

  Covers: www.facebook.com/darkwatercovers

  Editing and Formatting by Maggie Kern

  This book is a work of fiction. The names characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used factiously and are not construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations are entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Except for short quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced, in any form, or used in whole or part by any means existing or produced in the future without written permission from the author.

  Thank You:

  I would like to thank the one person who is always behind the scenes giving me the encouragement I need in any project I take on—Nicole Lloyd. She is my personal assistant and so much more. She never gets frustrated with me or gives up on me. She is the one that keeps me up to date on everything because I don’t have enough hours in my day when I am writing. She has a lot happening in her life, but she is always there for me. Thank you, Nicole, for being the special person that is you. I am lucky to have you in my life.

  I also want to thank Maggie Kern for doing such an excellent job as my new editor and formatter. She has come in and is going through my catalogue of books and giving them a new polished look and the editing attention, they needed. She is understanding when my set deadlines are not met, and her work is impeccable. Thank you for being such an understanding person and I am lucky to have you in my life.

  To everyone in Vera’s Teasers thank you for your support and my interactions with each of you is something I value in my life. Thank you.

  To all the other authors that support me and have given me your friendship, I am touched with how open you are and how willing you are to help. Thank you.

  All the bloggers and groups that are always willing to help on a cover reveal or share my books, thank you.

  To my readers—just a big heartfelt thank you. Thank you for the books you buy, the ones that leave a review, and the ones that share my books. I am a lucky woman to have all of you.

  A big thank you to my husband, Charles, who is my biggest supporter and my rock in everything I do. A thank you to the rest of my family that give me the support I need in times I don’t even know I need it. Family, love, and friends are what matter in this world and I am lucky to have an abundance of all.

  Author’s Thoughts…

  No one should ever be afraid to be themselves in this world. Life is too short and too difficult to try and be what someone else thinks you should be. Live life to its fullest. Love with an open heart. If you don’t love yourself then you are not giving all of you to the people you love. Give acceptance and respect freely and accept it in return. Think what life would be if we were all exactly alike. Just my thought of the day.

  Blurb

  I am strong. I am a survivor. I will not fit into anyone else's mold. I think outside the box. This mantra keeps going through my head. If I keep saying it, it's true, right? Not everyone can have a picture-perfect life forever. I did have that life, or I thought I did. Was it an illusion that I had to be mature to see the truth? My dad was a rock star, and we had all the perks and comforts that came with the whole persona, but at home, I was just Dad's little princess and he was my hero. My mom couldn't spare the time to have a daughter. She showed up for photo opportunities. One night my life took a turn into a disaster and nine months later I walked away from the shambles that was once my life. I snuck away from the pain and I was on my way to freedom in the back of a bus. I may have left home an innocent sixteen-year-old but with four years of being alone and on the move I have finally decided it’s time to take what’s mine and find myself the Comfort Side Of Heaven.

  Prologue

  Sage…

  What did you want to be when you grew up? I know a silly question, but really, what was it? You see when I was a little girl all I wanted to be when I grew up was normal. You know, a daughter with a loving mom and dad or even a sister or brother would have been nice. I had a loving dad when he was around, but mom was not a normal mom. I never had a sleepover, no mother and daughter shopping. Our cook was there watching over me when I had my first attempt at baking cookies. The maid helped me with my first period and the story of the birds and bees. Our driver took me to school and picked me up, then would take me to whatever after-school classes my mom deemed I needed to take part in. I hated most of them but there were some that came in handy later. I loved anything to do with music because it made me feel closer to my dad. My dad was a rock legend and that’s why he was gone all the time. He was on the road making us a living. His words, and you can’t fault a man for taking care of his family, but I just wanted more time with him. He always said next year would be the time, but five years ago that time ran out. My dad was gone. At sixteen years old, I was left with just my mom. A woman that couldn’t be bothered with me. No, I wasn’t abused by her, but I also wasn’t loved. I can’t tell the whole story before this even begins so I will just say that the night I found out I was only a means to an end it was time that I left. She didn’t love my dad and she never wanted me. Newsflash lady, I have known that fact for years. The rest of the story will tell itself, the good, the bad, and the unbelievable. Just remember, I survived, and I am still around to tell the story. I am still hiding and hoping some of my secrets don’t sneak up on me, but I have never been very good at this life thing and I have never known true happiness.

  Chapter One

  Sage…

  It seems like I have been on this bus looking out at the same scenery for a little over four years now. I know it’s not true, but I am so tired of picking my life up and always moving on. I have been on the move since I was sixteen and a few months old and I need a home of my own now. I never thought I would miss the familiarity of the cold mansion I was raised in. That almost makes me laugh. In my own head, I can’t bring myself to call it home. All I have are distant memories, cruel disappointments, and the inability to form any lasting relationships. Well almost, there is Zane. I have had a friendship with him since we were in diapers. He is and will always be my best friend and partner in mischief. Zane’s dad and mine started a band together. One of the hottest bands around the world, TALK Kraze. That makes me smile and my mind strays straight to memories of my dad.

  I was always Daddy’s little girl. I lived for my time with him. Travis Dade was an unforgettable man and he owned my young heart. Everyone was drawn to him, he was one of the most charismatic people I have ever met. He had a way of talking to you that made you think you were the most interesting person in the world. He hung on every word. I know, go ahead and say it was because I was his daughter and all little girls think this of their dad but as I got older, I notice
d he wasn’t just that way with me but everyone he talked with. I don’t know if when I realized he wasn’t just that way with me, if it broke my heart or made my heart burst with love because my dad could do that for so many people. Everyone loved him, except my mom. My dad was bigger than life and Mom couldn’t stand that she would never be the center of attention when Dad was around. Dad was just a laid-back guy that everyone felt comfortable around. My dad had so much money that he could have lived a pretentious-privileged life—we all could have—but my dad liked the simple things in life. His glitzy lifestyle likely would have smothered him at one time and he could have slipped down that hole and done the binges and overindulgences. Instead he stepped back and simplified our lives at home, at least his and mine. Mom was a different story.

  As much as I love my precious memories with my dad, they always bring with them memories of my mom, Katrina Lea Stanley-Dade. My dad called her Kat, but she hated the name. I don’t know if it was because my dad used that name or if she truly disliked it. I think it was a little of both. What my mom didn’t like about our lives or one of many things is she was a groupie of my dad’s when they first met. I heard the stories many times when I was younger, in whispered voices. I wasn’t supposed to be listening to the adults, but you would be surprised at the abundance of information that children hear when they aren’t supposed to be listening. My mom and the rest of the members of TALK Kraze didn’t like each other and Mom detested the other family members of the band that were always hanging around when the band was recording a new album. Dad hated spending time away from being with us, so he had a recording studio built in our home. That way they could record and still have their families close and that meant we had guests for lengthy stays. I loved it, but Mom made the experience difficult. So difficult that Dad started sending Mom on extended vacations, so she wasn’t there during those times. Mom went off to a plush spa somewhere and we got to have time with our extended family. Zane was my best bud and when he was there everything was so much better. I know it sounds like a complicated life, but it wasn’t. It was my life and I loved it. It was perfect until it was time for Mom to come home and Dad’s turn to leave. That’s where the loving family memories leave and screaming, disapproving looks, and my punishments began. This is where I always turn my attentions to something else to try to forget that part of my life and this time is no different. I try to look at the beautiful scenery around me. It’s the middle of spring and the sky is a beautiful blue with dreamy-looking clouds swirling in it and the hills are green with blooming wildflowers—Indian paintbrushes and bluebonnets—sprinkled throughout. I take my phone out and try to capture the magnificence of it in a picture. Another memory to tuck away for when I need a pick-me-up from feeling sorry for myself. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to be out on my own and not be kept on lockdown from life, but it does get lonely at times.

  My body has had about enough of this bus ride. It has been almost three days of travel, greasy food, and crowded bus stops on this trip from Seattle. I still don’t fly even though I’m over eighteen with the correct identification. I’m always careful so my mom can’t find me until after I turn twenty-one. I know then I will be forced to face her.

  I see the welcome sign to the town of Comfort out the bus window. I smile as I feel the bus slowing down. The small building we pull in front of looks no bigger than a work shed. When the bus comes to a stop I stand and pull my backpack up on my shoulder. I pack light, so I only have a backpack and a small duffel bag that is stored under the bus. I know when I arrive in a new place I will be walking everywhere until I decide if I need a vehicle. I have a system when I arrive at all the unfamiliar places I go; find a motel to check in to that is safe, find food that is more than fast food, and then check out my surroundings. It is repetitious, but I have learned from my mistakes. This time is a little different. I always have a list to start with because I do my research on all my new destinations. Comfort, Texas is relatively safe. Their crime rate is one of the lowest in the state but then again, they have less than one thousand population. Small-town living is what I need after Seattle. I like city living for a short stay but love being able to walk outside at two in the morning and not be worried about who I may run into on the sidewalks. I make my way to the front of the bus. When I step out into the sunlight, I feel warmth heat my body. I take a deep breath and walk over to get my bag from the bus driver. He smiles when he hands it to me and I nod and give him a small smile.

  “Thank you,” I tell him softly.

  “Yes, ma’am,” the driver says as he turns to get the next person’s ticket. I step away from the bus and take in the quaint town. The bus stop is close to the bed-and-breakfast that I thought would be a lovely place to stay until I can find a more permanent place. I look around and I see the sign in the front yard of a beautiful older home. I start walking in that direction and I see no one out and about. I guess this is small-town living on an early Sunday afternoon. The closer I walk to Carpenter’s Rest Spot I hear people talking, sitting on the front porch of the quaint bed-and-breakfast. I am walking by small shops, unlike the big stores of most cities and they look closed. I make it to the gate in front of the historic looking house. This place is beautiful. On closer inspection, it’s not a front porch but I big wrap-around porch. There are wooden rockers placed sporadically around it and I see two different porch swings. The people scattered around the front of the porch stop talking and look at me. It looks like they are drinking either sweet tea or lemonade out of tall ice-filled glasses. The people are looking at me and I am trying to avoid looking at anyone specific while trying to look at the magnificent green lawn and soak in the peace of the setting here. I open the gate and walk in. The sound of a screen door shutting brings my attention to an older lady standing out on the porch with a plate of cookies that are making my stomach grumble to life. They smell mouth-watering. I can’t read this woman’s expression like I do most peoples, but I think I am acceptable when her face breaks out in a welcoming smile.

  “You must be Sage Collins,” the woman says while she walks to a small table and puts the cookies down. “Mr. Styles, would you help the lady with her bags?”

  “Yes, I’m Sage and thank you but I can manage my bags.” I don’t want to be a bother and the man doesn’t look very happy with having to leave the cookies that she had set on the table beside him. The older man grabs a cookie off the plate and takes a bite and groans his enjoyment of the snack. He takes two more cookies and a napkin off the table and puts the one he has taken a bite from and the other two and sets them on the table. He turns away from the table and walks towards me.

  “I’m Mrs. Carpenter, but please call me Haddie, and welcome to Comfort. What brings you to our small town?” The woman doesn’t seem like she is trying to get in my business, it seems more like friendly conversation, so I give her more than the answer I usually give.

  “I want to find a small town to make my home.” That makes the woman smile bigger and her eyes soften. The man makes it to me and he ignores the words I said about not needing help. I don’t want to be rude, so I hand him my duffel, but keep my backpack.

  “Be careful what you ask for girlie. The grass always looks greener on the other side but the first time one of the old church biddies gets up in your business you’ll be running back to the big city. Those women live for any kind of gossip they can dig up and if you decide to wear white after Labor Day and before Memorial Day you will be the talk of the town until old man Jameson’s pigs get out again.” He turns and walks back towards the door with me on his heels. He’s grumbling about something under his breath, but I can’t hear what it is. I shake my head and smile. I can tell the man is a hard worker from the overalls he is wearing and the wrinkles around his eyes tell me he has spent many a day working in the sun.

  “You’ll have to ignore Mr. Styles; he’s been having a difficult day for the last forty years.” Everyone on the porch laughs but I hear Mr. Styles grumble as we step up the stairs of th
e porch.

  “Haddie, if the girl is going to stay then she needs to be aware of how this town works. We need some young blood here and we would have more of it if the old biddies of this town weren’t always in everyone else’s business. It’s better if the girl knows from the beginning so if she can’t handle them then she can get right back on that bus and keep looking.” Watching the back and forth between these two you would think they disliked each other, but I get the feeling that is far from the truth. The man turns to look at me. “I’m not trying to run you off girlie but us oldsters get attached to people and it’s hard when they leave us. People arriving here have a habit of leaving because they can’t take the gossip mill around here. A lot of people in Comfort have been here for generations and they are accustomed to how things work but I am here to tell you, it’s not always a terrible thing that everyone knows your business. We are a close-knit community and if one of us needs help, everyone shows up to help. If you can handle all that, then this may be the place for you.” Mr. Styles stops talking and looks at Haddie and nods his head as if the subject is closed. I’m a little taken aback because I’m not even checked in to my room yet. “I’m taking my cookies to go.” He goes to the table and picks up his cookies and walks away leaving my duffel beside the front door. The porch has gone quiet. I don’t know what to say to all of this. Haddie must see I am perplexed about the situation.