Excerpt from Forbidden Secrets

CHAPTER ONE – MELANIE

“Where do you want this desk, Mel?” Paul asked.

“Office.” Lugging the box with her printer, Melanie followed her mom and stepdad, each holding an end of her desk, into the small room that would be her writing space. She set the printer in a corner. A small room in a small house but a space specifically for writing. The thrill had yet to wane.

Added bonus? A French door that opened to a wide patio with a table and umbrella and incredible views of the jagged peaks of the Sierras that dominated the eastern sky. In the spring she and her little girl would fill terracotta pots with geraniums and petunias or whatever pretty plants they fancied.

Melanie had bought the small house on the big piece of property at the end of Bluebell Lane, which sounded cute but was an unpaved road with nary a bluebell in sight. Maybe they’d see some in the spring.

Her house-purchasing timeline had been shortened significantly with the unexpected success of her book series. That success had also bought her time to see if she could make a living as a full-time author. Her stomach clenched at the thought. If she stuck to her budget and could finish her current manuscript and build on the success of her last release, then maybe she wouldn’t have to find a day job.

Paul and Donna followed her outside, Donna brushing her hands on her jeans. “That’s the last of the furniture. If we want to get the U-Haul back in time, we need to go.”

“Thank you both. I don’t know how I’d have gotten everything in the house without your help and now you’re returning the U-Haul for me. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Donna put her hands on her hips and scanned the area. “I know what’s done is done, but I still don’t like you being so far from town.”

“I know, Mom. But we’re not all that far and this is what I want.” Donna had been her rock for so many years, which made it doubly hard to withstand her disapproval of the house and property Mel had chosen.

Addy came tearing across the spotty grass of the yard as fast as her six-year-old legs could carry her. “Mom, mom, mom.” ‘Mom’ times three was Adelyn’s new thing when she was excited. She skidded to a stop, dirt clinging to the knees of her jeans.

Grabbing Melanie’s hand, she tugged. “Mom, there’s a pumpkin in the garden. A real one. It’s connected to a vine. Can I pick it? Can we make a jack-o’-lantern. Or a pie? I think there’s a tomato plant, too, and it has tomatoes on it. They’re all shriveled up. Yuck. Tomatoes are gross.”

“Hang on, Addy. Nana and Grandad have to leave.”

Addy let go of Mel’s hand to fling her arms around Donna. “Bye, Nana. Love you.”

Paul crouched for his hug and Addy wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you for the new bed you got me.”

“Sleep well in it, kid.” They may not have been related by blood, but for Paul Bukowski, the sun rose and set on his granddaughter. With Addy’s dad only intermittently in the picture, Mel appreciated him showing her daughter how a decent man loved and supported his family.

“I will, Grandad. Promise.”

Paul rose and Melanie gave him a hug, then Donna. “Love you, both.

Donna hugged her back. “I’m glad you found what you wanted, my girl,” she murmured. “We’ll come back in the morning and help you get settled.”

Addy took Melanie’s hand. “C’mon, Mom. You have to come see the pumpkin.”

Melanie allowed herself to be tugged across the yard. “Show me this pumpkin, then we’re making tacos to celebrate our first dinner in our new house.”

“I love tacos.” Addy’d be happy with tacos for dinner seven days a week.

Melanie shivered, glad for the heavy flannel she wore. “It’s getting cold.”

“I’m not cold.”

How many times had Melanie heard that when she wanted to bundle her girl up?

The high wire fence bordering the garden probably meant deer were a problem. The gate hung open, and Addy pulled her across the uneven soil. A sad looking tomato plant with a couple of sickly tomatoes that did indeed look gross grew at the end of one long row. Along the back fence that bordered the creek, a leafy vine had twined itself through the wire.

Addy pulled back a large leaf. “See? It’s a pumpkin.” She grinned her gummy grin having recently lost her top front baby teeth.

Melanie crouched to examine the bright orange pumpkin about the size of a soccer ball. “That’s a terrific pumpkin, Addy. I wonder if there are more.”

Addy began searching through leaves already turning brown with fall. “Do you think the person we bought the house from planted this pumpkin and forgot to take it with them?”

“The house was vacant for a year, so I think anything growing now came up volunteer.”

“What’s volun ̶ ”

Addy stilled and Melanie followed her line of vision.

“Mom. It’s a dog and it has a ball in its mouth.”

A beautiful golden retriever stood at the open gate with a tennis ball clamped in its jaws, tail wagging. Knowing her daughter, Melanie laid a hand on her shoulder.

“What are the rules, Adelyn?”

“Don’t get too close, let the dog come to you. Let it smell your hand. If there’s an owner, ask permission.” She glanced up. “Mom, I think it’s a stray and needs a home. It found us because it wants to be part of our family.”

Addy showed no subtlety in her campaign to get a dog. Maybe now that they were in their new house, who knew?

“Do you think a stray walks around with a ball in its mouth?”

“Maybe?”

They retraced their steps across the garden, the pumpkin forgotten. Addy approached the dog, talking to it in a soft voice. She stopped, hand outstretched. The dog was having nothing to do with rules. Tail wagging its entire body, it gave Addy a quick sniff then shoved its head under her hand.

Addy went down on her knees and stroked the dog’s head. “It’s friendly, Mom. Do you think it’s a girl or a boy? I wonder what its name is. I think it’s a stray and needs a home.” Still holding the ball, the dog dropped to the ground and rolled onto its back. Melanie could have sworn the dog sighed when Addy rubbed her belly.

“She’s a girl and she’s got a collar,” Melanie pointed out. “I bet her people live on our road.”

Melanie glanced at the house closest to them that shared the end of Bluebell Lane. While hers and Addy’s house had uninspired architecture from the eighties with a basic stucco exterior, their nearest neighbor’s home was gorgeous and made of wood with stone cladding and lots of windows.

A creek ran between their properties.

The dog rolled to her feet and dropped the ball in front of Addy. Her gaze went from Addy to the ball, then back again.

“She wants me to throw it.” Addy picked up the ball and tossed it high in the air.

The dog pounced on it and dropped it on her sneaker. This time when Addy threw the ball, it sailed over the wire fence. Dog and girl ran for the gate.

A sharp whistle pierced the air and the dog came to a skidding stop worthy of a Looney Tunes canine. Her head whipped between where the ball had landed and the direction of the whistle. Seemingly unable to decide what to do, she collapsed on the ground.

Addy dropped to her knees next to the dog who rolled so her big head lay in Addy’s lap. Another whistle and the dog closed her eyes. Addy buried her hands in the dog’s golden fur. They both looked in the direction of approaching footsteps.

A man stepped from the strip of pine trees lining the creek.

Melanie blinked to clear her vision, convinced her imagination was playing tricks on her. The man looked exactly how she’d written Alaric, the brooding warrior hero of her romantasy series. If Hollywood ever came calling, this guy would land the role without an audition.

Long dark hair swept back from a high forehead. High cheekbones and a jaw that might have been carved from stone. Dark brows slashed over eyes that seemed to assess her like she was a threat, or an inconvenience. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, tall and lean with the kind of presence that made the air around him feel ten degrees cooler.

And he was scowling. Great.

“C’mon, Pancake.” His voice held a rough edge.

“Her name’s Pancake? Why’s her name Pancake?” Addy turned her face up to the man. Pancake opened one eye, then closed it, and gave a blissful groan when Addy stroked her neck.

His long pause had Melanie worried he was going to ignore Addy’s question. When he finally spoke it was like he had to force the words past his lips.

“Yeah, her name’s Pancake. I’ll let you guess why.”

“I bet she likes to eat pancakes.” Addy grinned. “She’s not a very good listener.”

“Right on both counts.”

Telling herself firmly there was no way Alaric had come to life and lived next door, and deciding one of them had to demonstrate good manners, Melanie cleared her throat. “I’m Melanie, this is my daughter Adelyn.” She gestured to the house across the gully. “We, ah, I guess we’re neighbors.”

There was a long searching look that made Melanie think he could read every thought in her head – not a comfortable feeling – before his expression returned to neutral. “Gage.”

He switched his attention to his now snoring dog.

“Aw, she’s sleeping on my lap.” Addy gently rubbed Pancake’s nose with her finger.

“She’s faking it. Pancake, get up.” He nudged the dog with a booted toe.

“She can stay with us if she wants. I’m six and responsible. I’ll take care for her.” Addy must have realized inviting the dog to stay required parental approval because she asked, “Mom, can Pancake stay with us? Please.” Did every kid in America make ‘please’ into a long drawn out entreaty?

“Ah, no. Pancake belongs to Mister Gage and he wants to take her home. Why don’t you find her ball and maybe we can coax her to her feet.”

Addy scooted out from under the dog’s massive head and trotted after the ball.

Gage jammed his hands in his pockets. His serious expression had eased a miniscule amount when talking to Addy now returned. “Pancake likes kids and has trouble with boundaries. She bothers you, chase her off. She’ll eventually get the message.”

“You just met my daughter. You’re more at risk of her appropriating your dog than Pancake being shooed away.”

Addy returned. “Here, Pancake, here. Here’s your ball.”

Pancake sprang to her feet and stood quivering, proving she had indeed been faking it. Her attention laser focused on the ball, Addy tossed it in the air and Pancake leaped to catch it.

Gage produced a leash from his pocket and snapped it onto the dog’s collar. Pancake immediately dropped her head and stared at the ground, the ball in her mouth.

Gage tugged on the leash. “C’mon, Pancake.” He raised his gaze to Mel’s. “Now that she knows there’s a kid here, it’ll be a battle to keep her away.”

“We like dogs. Pancake can visit us any time, right Mom?”

Addy’s utter confidence that Mel would back her up meant there wasn’t a chance she’d disagree. “Yeah, we like dogs. Pancake is welcome.”

Gage shook his head. “You say that now. You’ve been warned.”

With the reluctant Pancake plodding after him, occasionally turning her head to gaze woefully at Addy, man and dog disappeared into the trees.