Coming Home (Copper Creek Book 1) Read online

  Coming Home

  Wendy Smith

  Edited by Lauren McKellar

  Cover design by Sprinkles On Top Studios

  Photography by CJC Photography

  Book one in the Copper Creek Series

  Contents

  Blurb

  Foreword

  Glossary

  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

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Free Books

  Also by Wendy Smith

  About the Author

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Ariadne Wayne is in no way affiliated with any brands, songs, musicians or artists mentioned in this book.

  This book is written in New Zealand English.

  Created with Vellum

  Coming home is bittersweet for Adam Campbell. His mother has cancer, but for some reason doesn’t want him there. One of his brothers welcomes him home with open arms, another treats him like dirt.

  Then there’s Lily, the girl who left Adam at the altar twelve years ago. The girl who broke his heart. Adam left and didn’t look back after that happened, but being home stirs up all those old feelings.

  Secrets will be revealed, including the horrifying truth about why Lily stood him up, and that she didn’t abandon Adam. Adam abandoned her.

  Coming Home is the first book in the Copper Creek series. Set in the fictional small New Zealand town of Copper Creek, the series will explore the dark secrets the town holds, including the secrets held tight by members of the Campbell family.

  Foreword

  I originally intended to publish this book in 2015. Instead, I got distracted by another story that urgently wanted to be written (In a Lifetime as Ariadne Wayne) and Coming Home was delayed until 2016.

  My father died in March of this year.

  It’s to my eternal regret that he didn’t live to see this book in print, but I think the delay has also meant that this is a better book than it would have been a year ago.

  My dad was a Vietnam Veteran who had a lifetime of illness as a direct result of war. I knew at the start that Adam would be a veteran and have issues. They might not be so evident in this first book as I wanted this to be primarily about his return to town, but as the series continues, his road will continue to be rocky and his years away will be revealed.

  As always, love prevails. Lily has her own demons to conquer. Together they’re stronger.

  This isn’t a military romance, but I’m so grateful for my cover designer, Sarah, who picked up on what I wanted and added those little dog tags to the book title.

  Those are for you, Dad. B27928 Staff Sergeant Arthur G Frederikson of the 161st Battery, Royal New Zealand Artillery. Lest we forget.

  I also want to say a huge thank you to my amazing editor, Lauren McKellar. This is our 10th book together and I would not be able to do this without her.

  And to Christopher John and BT Urruela, the photo fits the cover in so many ways. Thank you so much for being amazing.

  Glossary

  There are a few Kiwi words in this book, so I thought it worthwhile including a glossary

  Chilly Bin - Insulated box to keep food or drink cool

  Number eight wire mentality - The ability to improvise to solve a problem.

  Kia ora - Māori for ‘hello’

  Ka pai - Māori for ‘good’

  Boot - Trunk of car

  Bonnet - Hood of car

  Morepork - Also known as Ruru. Small brown owl.

  Wheel Brace - Tyre Lever

  Torch - Flashlight

  Togs - Swimwear

  Cordial - fruit flavoured drink

  Mobile - Cell Phone

  Swanndri - Wool bush shirt

  Ute - Utility vehicle

  Please note: if there are any other words you stumble on, don’t hesitate to track me down online and ask.

  1

  Lily

  Today is going to be the happiest day of my life. My wedding day.

  I wake and smile to myself, but something’s not quite right. The air is chilly and this doesn’t smell like my bedroom. My eyes are heavy, and I struggle to open them. I blink, Mum’s built in work desks coming into focus. Mum’s sewing room?

  I turn my head. I’m on a mattress on the floor, and her sewing gear is gone. There are still the cupboards she stored her fabric in, emptied with the doors wide open, and the table and machine have been moved.

  A sharp pain tears through my left leg, and my back aches from the awkward angle I’ve been lying. I try and push myself up on my elbows to take a look, but my head swims and the whole thing is way too much effort. What the hell is going on?

  It takes a lot of effort, but I manage to get myself up a little. Enough to push back the blanket and spot the large bruise coming up on my calf. What happened last night, and why don’t I know how I ended up down here? I have no idea what the time is, but I’m marrying Adam today.

  Panic rises in me as I struggle to stay upright, and I let myself sink down into the mattress again.

  The answers come in the form of my mother. The handle rattles as she opens the door, and her heels click as she walks down the wooden stairs.

  “You’re awake, sleepyhead,” she says.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  She gets onto her knees beside the mattress and leans over, kissing me on the forehead. “I’m taking care of you. I brought you breakfast.”

  “Why am I down here?”

  Mum sighs. “I told you. I’m taking care of you.”

  “I’m not sick. I’ve got to get ready. What’s the time? I have to be at the courthouse by ten.”

  As she shakes her head, her eyes so sad, I know I’m in big trouble. “Shhh.”

  “Mum?”

  “I have to protect you Lily. That boy’s just going to break your heart.”

  A sob breaks from me, hot tears spilling down my cheeks. “What have you done?”

  She smiles, and I know she truly believes the words that come out of her mouth next. “I’m keeping you safe. I won’t have you go through what I did. He’ll get you pregnant and then he’ll leave, and you’ll struggle the rest of your life. Or, you stay here with me.”

  “Adam’s not like that.” I’m so weak, I can barely protest. What did she give me? She’s been on so many different drugs over the years, it could be anything.

  Bile rises in my throat. I push to stand up, but I’m so we
ak my hand barely moves me. Inside, I rage to escape but my body fails and my fury only grows. Everything’s foggy and so many thoughts pass through my mind as I’m unable to act on them.

  Mum … no …

  Adam.

  I start counting the days, but it’s hard when you have no way of keeping record.

  When the power gets cut, I know it’s been at least six weeks. In the past, Mum’s missed a couple of bills before it’s got to that stage.

  The lighting’s usually pretty good in the basement. Mum had this place refitted several years ago when she turned it into her sewing room. And I’m thankful there’s a toilet with handbasin in the corner.

  Now there’s nothing, and I lie in the dark and listen to my heart beating for company.

  A handful of times a day I get to the bathroom and back, but I always end up back in the same place. There’s nothing else to sit on.

  Adam knows I’m gone—he must. Does he not wonder where I am? Did he come looking for me? Or has he deserted me just like Mum said he would?

  The odds had always been against us. His mother took an instant dislike to me, no doubt buying into the rumours about Mum. For Mum’s part, she hasn’t done too badly these past years until now. Apart from the mending work she does, she’s kept to herself. It helped a lot when she started getting a few jobs from that weird commune place up on McKenzie’s Mountain.

  It isn’t really a mountain, more like a hilly area up in the bush. Commune or cult, I don’t know, but it’s somewhere where they all dress the same and act weird. Whatever. It’s funny the random things that pop into your mind when you have nowhere to go and no way to get anywhere.

  It’s Adam that weighs on my mind the most. A few weeks ago he loved me more than anything else on the planet. At least that was what he said. Where is he now?

  Instead of being Mrs Adam Campbell, I’m sitting or lying around, and no one’s found me. I thought this would be the first place anyone would come looking, that Mum’s reputation would be enough for someone to check. She has a history of being a little eccentric, and thanks to the open-mouth policy that some people in Copper Creek practice, people know she’s on a variety of medications … and yet, nothing. No knocks on the door. Only the occasional sound of her heels on the stairs as she brings me food.

  Adam ...

  When I get out of here, I’ll ask him for answers, ask why he’s abandoned me. My mind twists everything, including the love I bore him. My heart still belongs to him, but did his ever belong to me?

  Doubt is demoralising.

  Being demoralised is scary.

  It’s the kind of thing that can kill you in this situation. That overwhelming feeling that there is no hope.

  I close my eyes and think about the dark house above.

  Mum wouldn’t disconnect the power deliberately. Without fail she watches her soap operas, and how’s she going to catch her daily dose of drama with no power?

  I pray she gets it back before she decides to light the house with candles. No one knows I’m here if anything goes wrong. So simple and yet so deadly.

  This is a nightmare I can’t wake up from.

  It’s the dark that haunts my dreams.

  2

  Adam

  Twelve years later

  I slug back another mouthful of whiskey.

  Maybe the silky amber liquid will help me forget the expression on Jenna’s face as I tore her heart to shreds. All because I couldn’t let go of the past. Deep down, I knew I could never love her the way I’d loved Lily.

  Her name was a curse on my lips, the one who got away. Twelve years ago, I’d left the town where she’d broken my heart. I’d gone back to the US, stayed with family friends before joining the military and travelling the world. I’d seen things I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to forget.

  For such a short while, I’d seen Jenna as the way forward. My safe harbour. She’d been the one who stood by me when I left the army, broken and tired, wanting to drink myself into oblivion. Jenna had brought me back from the brink.

  I’m such an arsehole.

  It wasn’t until I stood in the jeweller’s store choosing an engagement ring that I realised I didn’t want this. I can’t give her all of my heart, give her all she deserves. She needs a man who will love her completely and unconditionally. I can give her neither.

  Instead of proposing, I came home and told her it was over.

  Two days later, I’m still drinking my sorrows away.

  The key to avoiding the inevitable hangover that will follow this binge is to keep drinking. Drink until the pain that consumes me fades away. Even when it isn’t at the forefront of my thoughts, there is still some small part of me that nags, feeding the darkness inside.

  Buried deep is the distant memory of true happiness, but sometimes I have doubts about whether that’s a memory, or an illusion.

  My eyes heavy, I lie down on the couch and drop the empty bottle to the floor.

  That’s the last thing I remember as sleep claims me. The phone rings in the distance, but it’s too far away to care about. My head will be pounding in the morning, but I don’t care about that either. All that matters is killing the pain.

  I don’t know if it will ever go away.

  I wake, my head thumping in a rhythm that’s hard to cope with and unwanted. I groan as I open my eyes, only to slam them shut again as the morning sun streams through the window.

  It’s the last thing anyone with a hangover needs.

  I sit up with my eyes still closed and stand, opening them a tiny amount as I make my way to the blinds. I’ve stumbled around this apartment in the dark before; I know every inch of it. This has been my retreat these past few years, the place that comes closest to being called home. I never thought of myself as someone who would be a homeowner, but when it came up cheap, I leapt at the chance with help from Mum and Dad. It’s only gone up in value the last few years, one of the few constants in my life. Although, that’s been by my choice.

  As I pull the blinds closed, I sigh. Should have had that glass of water. Must be coffee time again.

  Coffee, a shower, and some more sleep. That’ll help.

  Remnants of Jenna are everywhere. She hadn’t moved in that long ago. Half her things were still in boxes, so it hadn’t taken long for her to pack and leave.

  I tug open the dishwasher to find a clean cup. Jenna’s tea mug sits in the top shelf, a reminder of her with that stupid horoscope stuff on the side. She would read that crap every morning out of the newspaper, sometimes planning her day around it. I’d thought that was a little nuts, but I had no doubt there were things she didn’t like about me either.

  The tea that she drank still sits in the cupboard. It’s no favourite of mine, and I throw the box of tea bags and her mug in the bin and go back to the dishwasher for another cup. A clean break has to be exactly that. No reminders of her can exist.

  I flick on the kettle and wait for the water to boil.

  This whole thing is stupid, pining after Lily, a girl who’d made her feelings clear a long time ago. One day she was so in love with me, and I was planning out our life together. The next day she’d run, not showing up for our wedding and leaving me broken and humiliated. Maybe it was for the best that I hadn’t seen her again, but I still had a million questions about why she’d changed her mind.

  The kettle switches off as it hits the right temperature, and as I lift it to add the hot water to my coffee, the blinking red light on the answering machine catches my eye. I pour the water and place the kettle back down before pressing the button.

  “Adam, it’s James. I hope this is the right number. There are a quite a few Adam S Campbells in the phone directory. If you’re the Adam Campbell from Copper Creek, please call me on this number. Don’t call home. Mum’ll just get upset.”

  I stare at the phone as he leaves the number. That has to be my baby brother James. I haven’t seen him since he was six. The only person I’ve spoken to in years has been my mothe
r. Cutting contact had meant just that. I’d left and never looked back. For a heartbroken eighteen-year-old, it had seemed the safest thing to do.

  But right now, I still need coffee, and then I’ll replay the message to get the number James left.

  What the hell can be so important?

  “James?”

  The guy on the other end of the phone exhales loudly. Is it relief? “Adam. Is that my brother Adam?”

  “How many people did you call trying to find me?” For the first time in days, I smile. If James had to resort to the phone book, it couldn’t have been that easy to track me down.

  “Thirty maybe? That was after I tried stalking you on Facebook.”

  I laugh, picturing him dialling person after person. How many Adam Campbells now have random voicemails? “I’m not on Facebook. Fuck that. Why didn’t you just ask Mum?”

  James sighs, and I hear the exasperation in his voice. “I did that ages ago. She says she doesn’t have a current number for you and that you don’t want to hear from any of us anyway. I managed to find out what town you were in by eavesdropping. Otherwise I’d have been dialling for months.”

  I grimace. I guess that’s the price you pay for becoming the black sheep of the family. To be there one day and gone the next. My last face-to-face contact with my brothers was the night after I’d been jilted by Lily, and most of that I’d spent in my bedroom, hiding from the world.

  Once I started running, I didn’t stop. It’s easier to avoid finding answers than face the past. Once I lost the girl I loved, there was no point in sticking around.

  “So, why track me down now?”

  “Mum has cancer.”

  The words hit me like a bucket of cold water. Mum is frustrating—shit, she is the most frustrating person I know, and that’s huge considering all the guys I’ve served with in the military. Because of that, my contact with her has always been sporadic at best as I hid from the pain of the past. When was the last time I spoke to her?