Summer on Honeysuckle Ridge Read online

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

  Copyright © 2020 by Debbie Mazzuca

  Excerpt from Christmas on Reindeer Road © 2020 by Debbie Mazzuca

  Cover design by name. [insert cover photo/art credits if applicable, or delete this line.] Cover copyright © 2020 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  Hachette Book Group supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Forever

  Hachette Book Group

  1290 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10104

  read-forever.com

  twitter.com/readforeverpub

  First Edition: May 2020

  Forever is an imprint of Grand Central Publishing. The Forever name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

  The Hachette Speakers Bureau provides a wide range of authors for speaking events. To find out more, go to www.hachettespeakersbureau.com or call (866) 376-6591.

  E3-20200407-DA-NF-ORI

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  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

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Discover More

  A Preview of Christmas on Reindeer Road

  About the Author

  PRAISE FOR DEBBIE MASON

  Also by Debbie Mason

  Fall in love with these charming contemporary romances!

  This book is dedicated to the memory of my grandfather Dudley Copland, who encouraged my love of reading, storytelling, and all things Scottish.

  Explore book giveaways, sneak peeks, deals, and more.

  Tap here to learn more.

  Chapter One

  You know, this doesn’t look anything like I pictured Honeysuckle Ridge Road. There’s not a honeysuckle in sight. Or a farm. Or any sign of civilization at all, for that matter. All you can see for miles and miles is trees. Ginormous trees,” Abby Everhart said to the Uber driver while holding her eight-pound gold-and-tan Yorkshire terrier close.

  The man didn’t so much as blink. He’d barely spoken the entire four-hour drive from the airport in Charlotte to Highland Falls, North Carolina. At least she assumed they were close to the town. She’d seen a sign a few miles back, peeking out from a stand of trees.

  With her nose pressed to the window, her dog growled. Obviously as impressed with the view as Abby. Or maybe Bella had spotted a wild animal lurking in the dark forest that practically swallowed the narrow dirt road winding its way up the mountain.

  Abby refused to think about what was crawling around on the forest floor. The past two days had been stressful enough.

  If it wasn’t for her ex’s longtime housekeeper, Elinor, Abby wouldn’t have known about the registered letter that had been delivered to his Bel Air mansion days before their divorce was final. She’d have no idea that she’d inherited her great-aunt’s farm in Highland Falls or that Chandler (the aforementioned ex) had been having an affair with the head of his legal team, Juliette Devereaux. Or that he planned to marry her.

  But as much as Abby appreciated Elinor standing by her, she could’ve used at least a day to wallow in her misery—some sympathy also would’ve been nice—but Elinor wasn’t having it. She’d decided the inheritance was a sign from the Universe that it was time for Abby to get out of Dodge, or in this case, LA.

  Abby slouched down in the backseat of the car and lifted her cell phone to take a picture of the Uber driver, the dark woods up ahead, the dark woods on her right, and the dark woods on her left.

  What had she been thinking?

  She never should’ve listened to Elinor. She should’ve contacted the lawyer in Highland Falls and had her sell the farm and wire her the money. But as Elinor had pointed out, Abby was homeless, almost penniless, and mostly jobless.

  At least in Highland Falls, she had a home. Just because the idea of living in the mountains with not a soul in sight wasn’t her cup of tea didn’t mean everyone felt that way. There had to be a reclusive dot-com millionaire somewhere who wanted nothing more than to drop a pile on a mountain hideaway.

  She swiped to her notes on her phone and created a list of potential buyers to target. Then she texted Elinor and attached the photos.

  If you don’t hear from me in twenty-four hours, look for this man, and look for mine and Bella’s bodies in these woods.

  But instead of the swoosh of the message being sent, the text just hung there. Abby’s eyes went wide at the thought that she was so far from civilization she was in a texting dead zone. It would be weeks before Elinor sent up an alarm. Abby swiped back to her potential buyer list, deleted dot-com millionaire, and added serial killer or person on the run.

  She glanced at her driver, prayed he didn’t fit into either category, then leaned forward in case he was hard of hearing, which would explain why he’d ignored her questions for almost the entire drive.

  “Stan, I don’t want to be one of those know-it-all passengers…Trust me, I’ve dealt with them before and totally understand how annoying it is. There were a few of them I would’ve happily mur…” She cleared her throat. Better not to put ideas in his head just in case.

  “Anyhoo, you might want to check your GPS. I called mine Chandler. That’s my ex, and he was as much an annoying know-it-all as my GPS. It was also wrong thirty percent of the time. I’m not the only one who’s experienced a GPS fail, you know. There was this woman I heard about whose GPS directed her into a lake. I still haven’t figured out why she actually drove into the lake. She had to have seen—”

  Stan cut her off, grumbling, “We’re here,” and turned off the main road.

  “Oh, wow. That’s so…awesome.” She tried to sound enthusiastic, but even reminding herself that she was still alive and breathing didn’t help. And then she kind of stopped breathing when a log farmhouse came into view—a rustic log farmhouse in need of some TLC. And that TLC needed to be provided by a professional, she thought, her head listing to the side as she followed the crooked line of the covered porch that appeared to wrap around the entire house.

  Elinor was wrong. The Universe hadn’t been giving Abby a sign
to get out of Dodge. The Universe was giving her the middle finger.

  Sensing the driver watching her in the rearview mirror, clearly waiting for a reaction, Abby forced a wide smile. She never should’ve told him the farm was worth a small fortune. She hadn’t done it in a braggy sort of way. It was more like a positive-thinking kind of thing. As in, if she put out positive thoughts, positive things would happen in return. She glanced at the rusted green tin roof. Clearly, she was doing something wrong.

  “Look at our new home, Bella Boo. It’s…charming.”

  Abby got out of the car, her gaze moving from the meadow to the woods that bordered the extensive property, and the dusky-blue shadows of the mountains looming up behind the forest.

  A shimmer of light caught her eye to the right. “Oh, look—there’s a pond, and a barn.”

  Her fake smile fell when she spotted an outhouse near the yellow barn. Surely the farmhouse had indoor plumbing. Her upper lip trembled from the effort of forcing a smile back on her face. “You know what, with a little money”—more like a small fortune—“this place will be so amazing, I’m not sure I’ll be able to bring myself to sell.” Ha! If she wasn’t broke, and she didn’t need money to finance her comeback in LA, she’d give the farm away.

  “Word of advice: keep a close eye on your dog,” Stan said as he set the suitcase beside her.

  Since Abby had been living out of her car for the past six months, Elinor had lent her the Burberry suitcase. And probably because she’d looked so pathetic, Elinor had also insisted on taking Abby to her friend’s beauty salon before she flew off on her new adventure.

  Thank goodness she had, because while Abby might be completely out of her element, she at least looked somewhat like the woman she used to be (and hoped to become again), and that gave her a small measure of comfort. Although instead of her signature long, straight blond hair, she was now a redhead with long, curly locks. And instead of her designer-store wardrobe, her current wardrobe came from the consignment store.

  But the faded denim shorts and white boyfriend shirt she wore looked fab with the four-inch wedge sandals and her hot-pink-painted toenails.

  “Thanks for the advice, Stan. I won’t let her out of my sight.” Abby gave him a genuine smile, appreciating his thoughtful concern, especially since he hadn’t been happy to discover she had a dog in her pink-patent-leather Louis Vuitton bag.

  Bella had sensed his fear right away and used it to her advantage, snarling and growling so Abby would keep giving her doggy treats.

  Abby took out the flat fee she and Stan had agreed upon and added a generous tip, even though she couldn’t afford it. She and Stan shared a bond, after all. They didn’t always get the respect they deserved driving cars for a living. She’d also leave a nice comment about her experience. Although she did wonder if she should give Stan some pointers.

  Not to toot her own horn or anything, but her passengers rarely left her anything below a five-star review. And she didn’t have to bribe them or fake that she’d enjoyed their company. She was a people person, and if it wasn’t for the glamorous life she’d led before Chandler and Juliette had destroyed it, she would’ve enjoyed her Uber gig. She glanced at the farmhouse. Who was she trying to kid? She so wanted her Hollywood life back.

  Stan nodded his thanks and stuffed the money in his pocket. As he walked around the hood of the car to the driver’s-side door, he added, “Hawks and eagles would just as soon eat her as look at her. Same goes for coyotes and wolves.”

  Abby decided she preferred the non-speaking Stan to the speaking one. “Okay, then. Thanks so much for sharing that with me.” She gave him a smile that stretched her cheeks. “Good thing we don’t have to worry about bears.”

  “No, you gotta worry about them too. But they’re more likely to go after you. Same with mountain lions, so have an eye.” He opened the car door. “Watch out for snakes and spiders too. There are some deadly ones in this neck of the woods.”

  She’d been wrong. Serial killers and criminals on the run were the least of her concerns. It was wildlife with murder on its mind that she had to worry about. “Um, you know, maybe I should…”

  She was about to suggest he drop her off in town but that would feel too much like giving up on her dreams. Besides, it wasn’t like she had money to burn. And no matter how high the odds seemed to be stacked against her at that moment, she’d beaten seemingly unsurmountable odds before.

  In her tween years, this kind of challenge would’ve been her jam. Her favorite pastime had been hiking in the woods with her father. They hiked every weekend in good weather and bad. The girl she used to be wouldn’t have been afraid of spiders or snakes or deadly wildlife of any kind. Back then she’d been fearless, the more physical the adventure the better.

  She waved goodbye to Stan, putting on a brave face as he drove away. She was all alone in the middle of no—Her jaw dropped. What had she been thinking? Her cell phone didn’t work, she didn’t have any means of transportation, and she had no food!

  “Stan!” Abby took off at a run up the gravel road with Bella in her arms. “Look in your rearview mirror!” She waved her free hand, crying out when she skidded across the loose gravel and nearly fell on her face.

  The time it took to regain her footing cost her, and she broke into a full-on sprint. Or as much of a sprint as four-inch wedge heels allowed. “Stan!” she called out, her voice strained from lack of oxygen. Her legs protested as she ran up the hill (okay, so it might have been more of a jog), and sweat trickled down her face. A muscle knotted in her side, and she stopped, bending over to wheeze. “I think I’m going to die.” Then hope surged through her at the sound of Stan’s car slowing at the top of the hill, and she lifted her head…only to see the taillights wink goodbye as they disappeared from view.

  She fought the urge to sit on the gravel road and cry. “Suck it up, buttercup,” she told herself. She’d faced far worse and survived. All she had to do was stay positive. If worse came to worst, she’d change her shoes and walk to the main road. As she turned to make the trek back to the farmhouse, Bella gave her a doggy kiss. “Thanks, Boo. I’m okay.”

  But so out of shape it wasn’t funny. She supposed that’s what happened when you made your living sitting on your butt. “It looks like you might be sharing your treats with me.” They wouldn’t last a week.

  A sudden image of her hunting for their food made Abby laugh despite the worry that they might actually starve to death. “Maybe Aunt Liz left something in the cupboards.”

  Except the lawyer handling the estate said she’d had a difficult time tracking down Abby, and Liz Findlay had died months before. Which made it unlikely there would be anything edible left in the house. That animals hadn’t already gotten into, Abby thought, when two gray squirrels appeared on the rooftop.

  Holding up her phone in hopes of getting a signal, Abby made her way through a jungle of bushes and overgrown shrubs to the front porch. Pushing aside the greenery that was encroaching on the stone path, she nearly missed the swoosh of a text being sent. She froze, praying it wasn’t her imagination as she shielded her eyes from the sun to squint at the screen.

  “We’re saved!” she cried at the sight of three bars. She set a squirming Bella at her feet and hurried back to her bag on the stone path. As Abby reached inside to retrieve her wallet and the lawyer’s number, her phone rang—FaceTime. She smiled, thinking it was Elinor checking for proof of life after the text Abby had sent.

  She pressed Accept. “Yes, I’m alive…” Her eyes went wide. Instead of Elinor, Abby’s gorgeous blond mother and her equally gorgeous blond stepsisters appeared on the screen. Crap! That would teach her to check the number before accepting.

  She swallowed a panicked eek when she realized they’d see the rundown farmhouse in the background. Her face frozen in a smile, Abby shuffled to ensure they had a view of the trees and mountains. Then she positioned the phone at just the right angle—as far as her arm would stretch out and up—while trying
to look perfectly natural. And unfazed.

  Her mother and stepsisters had no clue what was going on in Abby’s life. If they had, they would’ve dragged her back to the small Southern town they called home and she called social purgatory. But even worse than that, they’d know she was a failure.

  After years of being voted the Everhart most unlikely to succeed, she refused to let them discover she’d lost everything. Even if it meant pretending that she still lived in the mansion in Bel Air and that her husband still adored her.

  “Hi!” She waved at her mom and stepsisters. Bella cocked her head, looking up at her as if to say What the hay?

  She was nervous. She knew it was weird to be nervous talking to her own family, but she kind of dreaded these phone calls. Her mom had married the twins’ father when they were four and Abby was fourteen. Haven and Haley were everything Abby would never be. Brilliant and beautiful, they excelled at whatever they set their minds to. And while Abby was positive her mother didn’t do it on purpose, the calls were usually a litany of the twins’ recent successes.

  “Happy belated birthday, darling! I’m sorry we didn’t call from India but the time difference is horrendous.” Her mother blew her kisses, and so did the twins.

  “Happy birthday, Abs! Your hair is totally lit! It makes your green eyes pop,” her stepsisters said at almost the same time.

  Abby self-consciously touched her hair. “It does look like it’s on fire, doesn’t it?”

  Haven, the youngest twin by five minutes, laughed. “No, silly, lit means awesome.”

  She really was getting old.

  Elinor and her hairdresser friend, Kate, had decided that Abby needed to change things up and do something completely different. She’d tried to explain to them that red was her natural color, and it had never been a good look for her. It was also a color that reminded her of a time in her life when everything had gone from bad to worse. But blond? She’d totally rocked blond. Poker-straight, long blond locks were her Hollywood look…Now that she thought about it, she probably should’ve gone with brown or black.