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ChapterOne
Hattie knewshe’d found it the second she crested over the hill.
It sat like a perfect jewel nestled between rolling hills, the white clapboard buildings lined up like soldiers and the streets paved with brick. She could see for miles, past the town and across fields as green as emeralds, with white fences and horses dotting the landscape. A lake rippled like liquid glass and was framed by the majesty of white-capped mountains.
She’d left the top down on her Mini Cooper despite the threat of a storm. The wind whipped through her hair, leaving it unruly and tangled, but she didn’t care. The sky was gray with clouds that hung low and swirled overhead. If it hadn’t been so unladylike she would’ve let out a battle cry that would have put the rumbling thunder to shame.
For the first time in her life, she knew what it felt like to be free. There was no one to tell her where to go or what to do, how to sit, stand, walk, or make small talk. There was no one to tell her where to volunteer, what career path to take, or how many children she should have.
Freedom.
She breathed in deep and let the fresh air settle in her lungs. For the rest of her life, she wanted to remember this feeling—everything about it—from the smell in the air to the taste of the first raindrop on her tongue.
Bags and boxes filled every available space in the tiny car. Derek would have a fit at the thought of her driving something so undignified, and her mother would have agreed with him, but Hattie had planned her escape for the last two years, down to the last detail, and she’d thought the little car was impractical and cute—two things she’d had very little of in her life.
Atticus Cameron had helped her get her new identification, and with that, she’d been able to open her own bank account. It was the first one she’d ever had that had only her name on it. Derek had made sure she added his name to the trust her father had left her. She hadn’t had a choice. It was never worth the fight that ensued when she disagreed with him. Besides, her mother had felt having Derek control over the money was the best option as well. Margaret Ashbury had been infuriated when her husband’s fortune had gone to Hattie. With Derek in control, she could still get her hands on it through him.
For the last two years Hattie had lived in numbness. Living wasn’t even the right word. She was a zombie. Her pride always got her in trouble. And she wasn’t one to flinch when a hand was raised in her direction. But that wasn’t Derek’s favorite form of abuse, though he wasn’t above using physical force to get his way.
What he really enjoyed was the psychological warfare, tearing away her self-esteem and security. Calling her names or telling her she was stupid. If she displeased him he’d freeze her out or cut her down in front of her mother or his friends or co-workers. Or he’d make sure she knew when he visited his mistress and come to her at night with the scent of another woman’s perfume still on his body.
She’d taken Atticus’s advice, squirreling away the allowance Derek put in her account every month and tacking Visa gift cards onto her grocery bills so it didn’t look suspicious. He never looked beyond what was put on the debit card, as long as it was spent where she’d told him she was shopping. It had taken patience and perseverance, but finally she’d made her escape.
Atticus and her father had been close friends, and they’d worked together on occasion. The day they stood over her father’s coffin was the day he made her promise to come to him for anything, no matter how big, if she was ever in need. She owed him more than she could ever repay, and Atticus had wanted to do a heck of a lot more than provide her with the means for a new life. He’d wanted to put a fist through Derek’s face, but Derek moved in some powerful circles, and she didn’t want anything to ever happen to Atticus or his family.
She’d scrimped and saved over those two years, and found the secondhand car in excellent condition at a roadside dealership in Connecticut. Atticus had let her keep it in the garage of his Manhattan offices until she was ready to leave for good.
And then fate had lent a hand, and Derek had left for a prolonged business trip to Europe. Hattie had given him her itinerary before he left so he knew where she’d be, and then on a foggy morning on the way to a ladies’ luncheon, Harriet “Hattie” Ashbury had died when her car missed the curve in the road.
Again, Atticus had helped her with the logistics of it all. He’d taken care of the scene, the body, and the medical examiner’s report. And by the time Derek had flown back from London, she’d been zigzagging her way through the country, checking media reports and newspaper clippings to make sure everything had gone according to plan. She’d become Hattie Jones. And Hattie Jones wasn’t a high-profile attorney’s wife. She was a wilderness woman with a taste for the great outdoors. And she was free.
She could only imagine what her father would have said if he were still alive. He’d have wanted to know how she’d gotten into this mess. She wouldn’t have had an answer for him. Derek had been charming and sweet, and he’d swooped in to comfort her when she’d been grieving. She’d thought he’d been the man of her dreams, but instead he’d become her nightmare.
Her father…God, she missed him. Some days the grief reached out and grabbed her by the throat until she couldn’t breathe.
Atticus had given her a second chance, and by God, she wasn’t going to waste it. He’d given her a home to lease and a place to work. And with luck, she could settle in and make friends, become a part of something.
The contents of the boxes rattled as she drove over the uneven surface of the road. She looked down at her phone, but it was no use. No service. She was going to have to stop for directions.
Welcome to Laurel Valley.
There was a neat white sign with those words printed in block letters and a planter box beneath that was overflowing with purple and yellow flowers. The town was even better than Atticus had described.
She knew she was coming in at the end of high season. Atticus had told her the population of Laurel Valley was only a couple thousand during the off-season, which was spring and fall. But during the summer and winter the population could grow up to forty thousand people. The fewer people she had to be around the better. At least for now.
It was one of the most beautiful resort towns she’d ever seen, and she’d seen a lot of them. The architecture was Bavarian, and the chalet-style businesses made up the downtown area of Laurel Valley. Flowers rioted everywhere—out of planters and pots—the brilliant colors standing out against the white of all the buildings. The main tourist streets made a large plus sign, and in the middle of the plus sign was a seating area with tables and umbrellas where people could sit with their coffee or eat lunch. Atticus had told her in the winter it was converted to an ice-skating rink.
There were boutique hotels and tasteful condos that blended right into the mountainous landscape, but the downtown area was surprisingly empty. Only a smattering of cars lined the main strip. Obviously, people had enough sense to stay in out of the upcoming weather.
She slowed the car and read the signs that hung above each of the doors—florist, bookshop, ice-cream shop, bakery, feed store, mercantile, photography studio, and several boutiques she was going to have to check out later. She watched as shopkeepers turned over their open signs to closed and locked the doors.
Hattie looked at the darkening sky again and her grip tightened on the steering wheel as the wind whipped across the open top of her car. People must think she was insane. She pressed the button to raise the top on the car and checked her GPS again. She couldn’t be too far from the house she’d leased from Atticus. He told her she’d have as much space and privacy as she wanted, and views she’d never see anywhere else in the world. It sounded like heaven.
The rumbles of thunder were still in the distance, but the storm was moving quickly. She’d been traveling for two weeks, and now that she was this close to her destination, she couldn’t wait any longer to get there.
Her goal was to find the house, make a hot cup of tea while the storm rolled in, and then sleep for a couple of days straight. She wasn’t scheduled to start her new job as manager of the sporting goods store until next week, so she had time to catch her breath. And maybe over time, she’d learn to stop checking over her shoulder to see who was behind her.
Hattie parked the car in front of the restaurant on the corner, glad to see it was still open.The Lampstandwas carved into the thick wooden timber over the doorframe. The restaurant was built in the chalet style like the other buildings, but this one was three full stories, though the shutters had been closed over the windows of the top two floors. But at the very peak of the roof was a bright light that was growing ever brighter in the darkness.
