The Bridge Home by Stacey Wilk

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  • Heritage River 2

    Harley Kenyon has guarded a secret for eighteen years. Telling would only hurt her son, and Harley would do anything to protect Knox.
    Colton Savage—the wild, impetuous rock star—is back in town to clean up a few of his messes. She could never resist his charms. His promises prove empty, and more than once, he's left her for his seductive music career. But when the high school orchestra needs Colton's skills, he promises to stick around. He's not the man he was before and vows to spend his life proving it. Does she dare to believe him? Being with Colton means telling her secret.

    Will Harley finally reveal what she knows and risk losing her second chance at happiness, or will she keep her secret and send away the only man she ever loved?

    Rating: Spicy
    Page Count: 386
    Word Count: 99660
    978-1-5092-2337-4 Paperback
    978-1-5092-2338-1 Digital


    Chapter One


    Harley Kenyon loved bridges. Bridges connected the old and the new. Bridges signified art, beauty, and romance. The most extraordinary bridges left their marks on the world.

    She crossed over the Heritage River Covered Bridge, leaving her art studio—well, it was more of a classroom she rented at the community college—behind her. Her quaint bridge with white clapboard beneath the gabled roof knew her secrets the way an old friend would. She loved standing on the walkway to watch the sun set over the water’s edge, dressing the sky in pinks, purples, and gold. Her small bridge with crisscross posts reminded her of a time when life still held possibilities the way a blank canvas always did.

    The balmy Tennessee November day swirled its way inside the open windows of her Dodge Durango. With Thanksgiving in the rearview mirror and Christmas on the horizon, how many more days like this would be adding up? The snow and ice were just playing hide-and-seek at the moment.

    She pulled up to Maybelline’s Bakery, lucky to find a spot, and shoved the truck in park. She wanted one of May’s famous cups of coffee this side of the county and one of her best sugary treats. She should head home to her son and make sure he finished his homework, cleaned up the leaves in the yard, and swept out the garage. She had to enforce the rules she’d laid down, but that would mean an argument. Since his recent act of teenage stupidity, she and Knox fought as often as breathing.

    Main Street was dressed for the holidays and bustled with afternoon activities. The church on the corner boasted a Christmas craft fair today. A line snaked its way outside Eat at Jake’s. Toy’s Galore looked as if it might explode with people. The only thing that was quiet was Cream and Sugar. Not much call for ice cream this time of year. Plus, the owner, Rosemary, visited her family in Virginia from Thanksgiving to New Year’s.

    She hadn’t eaten anything since the greasy fast food that morning. She scooped up the waxy wrappers off the passenger seat, tucked the empty coffee cups under her arm, and heaved her purse onto her shoulder before sliding out and locating a garbage can to dump her mess.

    She yanked open the door, and the warmth of May’s surrounded her like a crocheted afghan. The store smelled sweet and savory. The glass case was filled with cookies, cakes, and doughnuts covered in the colors of sidewalk chalk. A variety of breads lined shelves behind the counter. Their outsides would be crunchy and the inside soft. The checkered floor was spotless. The small, round tables were filled with people talking and laughing. Shopping bags in reds and greens and golds decorated the floor beside their legs.

    Ella waved to her from a table in the back. She returned the wave and indicated with a few hand gestures she’d be joining her friend in a minute.

    She slid in line and ordered a coffee and a chocolate croissant from the unfamiliar young lady behind the counter. This new face working in Heritage River had hair to her waist. Her brown eyes lit up when she smiled, and her skin glowed. Harley let her gaze drop over this young woman as she took her money. The unmistakable baby bump in the center of her pink sweatshirt was hard to miss. Pregnant women popped up more and more. Now that Knox was a senior in high school, she missed being pregnant in a way she never had. Which was surprising, because being pregnant hadn’t been ideal.


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The Bridge Home

The Bridge Home

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