Finding Forever: Treading Water Series, Book 5 Read online

  Finding Forever

  Treading Water Series, Book 5

  Marie Force

  Finding Forever

  Treading Water Series, Book 5

  By: Marie Force

  Published by HTJB, Inc.

  Copyright 2020. HTJB, Inc.

  Cover by Kristina Brinton

  E-book Layout by Holly Sullivan

  E-book Formatting Fairies

  ISBN: 978-1950654819

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected].

  All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.

  MARIE FORCE is a registered trademark with the United States Patent & Trademark Office.

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  The Treading Water Series

  Book 1: Treading Water

  Book 2: Marking Time

  Book 3: Starting Over

  Book 4: Coming Home

  Book 5: Finding Forever

  Get the entire Treading Water Series

  Treading Water Boxed Set, Books 1-4

  For all the readers who asked for Maggie’s story over the last seven years, this is for you. Thank you for asking me to finish this series. You were right. We needed one more.

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Spring in central Tennessee happened suddenly. After weeks of seemingly endless rain, overnight the miles of rolling hills had turned emerald green, buds popped on the crepe myrtles, maples and oaks, and the sweet smell of new life filled the air. Forsythia, the first harbinger of spring, had exploded to yellow life weeks earlier than it did at home in Rhode Island and had been followed in quick succession by daffodils and tulips that filled lush flower beds with splashes of vibrant color. By the second to last week in May, the days had become longer and warmer, the rain less frequent.

  Maggie Harrington took a mug of coffee with her when she walked across the driveway to the stables to see the horses. Having them nearby was one of the best parts of her new life running Matthews House, a shelter for women and children in crisis founded by her music superstar sister, Kate, and brother-in-law, Reid Matthews. Maggie had been crazy about horses all her life, and she’d missed being around them during the years she’d lived in New York City.

  She found Thunder, the sleek, dark thoroughbred Reid had given Kate when they were first together more than a decade ago, in the paddock, turned out for a day of exercise and sunshine. The old guy gave a happy nicker when he saw Maggie coming, probably because he knew she always came bearing gifts, and trotted over to see her. Standing on the bottom rung of the white fence that surrounded the paddock, Maggie fed him apple slices and carrots, despite Kate’s edict that he needed to lose some weight.

  Maggie disagreed. At this point in his life, he ought to have whatever he wanted.

  His velvety tongue swept over her palm, scooping up the carrots in one swift lick.

  Maggie laughed. “Pig.”

  He snorted in response and nudged at her hand, looking for more. Kate swore the horse had human tendencies, and Maggie had to agree with her sister. In deference to her pregnancy, Kate had had Thunder moved to Matthews House so Maggie could exercise him while Kate couldn’t. Maggie was already sad about the thought of Thunder going home after Kate had the baby and could get back to riding.

  Maggie found a single sugar cube in her pocket and gave it to him, feeling guilty for playing favorites among the horses. After feeding apple slices to the other horses who came over to say hello and giving them each some attention, she headed back to the house to start her workday. If no new crises arose, she might get done with work in time to ride before dinner at Kate and Reid’s.

  The toot of a horn from a car coming up the long driveway stopped her from going inside. She recognized Ashton Matthews’s sporty silver Jaguar. Ashton, who was Reid’s son, was engaged to Maggie’s sister Jill and served as the pro bono attorney for the shelter. And yes, her sisters were involved with a father and son. Their story began when Kate first met Reid as an eighteen-year-old chasing the dream in Nashville.

  Tall, blond, broad-shouldered and handsome, Ashton emerged from the car, tucking a leather portfolio under his arm. He wore a tailored navy suit with a matching tie. “Glad I caught you. I’m on my way to the office and was hoping to talk to you for a minute.” Since they got engaged last Christmas, Ashton had been living with Jill at her house on Kate’s estate. Ashton and Jill were getting married in the Harrington sisters’ hometown of Newport, Rhode Island, in late July.

  “What’s going on?” Maggie asked him.

  Ashton had wanted to be part of the project at his family’s home and had offered to handle any legal work involved. “I’ve got the background check on your horse-whisperer guy.”

  Brayden Thomas had come highly recommended and was due to arrive for an interview after lunch. She’d asked Ashton to run a check on him, the way he had every employee they’d hired over the last few months. That he’d had to come here personally to discuss the results with her didn’t bode well. “And?”

  “Everything came back okay, but there was one weird thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He has a juvenile record.”

  “What did he do?”

  “No way to know. Juvenile records are sealed. I did a little ‘extra’ digging, or I never would’ve found it.”

  “Huh.” Maggie tried to wrap her head around this unexpected development. Brayden had come so highly recommended. She hadn’t expected to find any skeletons in his closet.

  Ashton withdrew a printed report from his portfolio and handed it to her. “Whatever it was happened years ago. He’s almost thirty. His adult record is clean. He has bachelor’s and master’s degrees from UT Knoxville in animal science.”

  Maggie had applied for and received a grant to run a therapeutic riding program for the children who came to stay at the shelter and had planned to offer the job to Brayden if the interview went well. She
’d wanted the program to be separate from what Reid and Kate had done with Matthews House, something that was entirely her own initiative. After having studied equine therapy in college, she’d been determined to make it available to their clientele.

  “What’re you going to do?” Ashton asked.

  “Have the interview and ask him about it, I guess.” It’d taken months to find Brayden and then a week of back-and-forth messages to schedule the meeting. The thought of starting over to find someone else made her feel tired, and it was only eight thirty.

  “That’s what I would do. Maybe it’s some foolish adolescent prank or something like that.”

  If it was anything more than that, Maggie would be reluctant to hire the man to work with the troubled children who would come through Matthews House.

  Because Kate and Reid were personally funding the program, they were able to make their own rules and regulations for the program, but safety was their top priority. They’d installed manned gates to provide added security to their residents, many of whom had fled violent relationships. Keeping them safe had to also be Maggie’s top priority.

  “Good luck with it,” Ashton said as he got back in his car. “I’ll see you at dinner later?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  He waved as he turned the car around and drove off toward town, away from the house where he’d grown up. Reid had become a single parent when Ashton’s mother was killed in a car accident when he was only two. Jill said Ashton had no memory of his mother except for the photographs his father had kept around the house and the stories his father had told him.

  Maggie couldn’t imagine what it’d been like for him to grow up without his mother. She’d spent three years without hers after an accident had left Clare in a coma. The day she’d unexpectedly recovered had been the best day of Maggie’s life. Sometimes she still couldn’t believe everything that’d happened after her mother’s accident.

  It had divided their lives into before the accident and after.

  She shuddered, recalling the horror of the car hitting her mother, of Clare seeing it coming but not reacting, the sickening crunching sound at the moment of impact and the surreal, slow-motion flight of her mother’s body into the air, her head connecting with the windshield with a sound Maggie had never heard before or since.

  “Stop. Don’t think about that.” Easier said than done. Images from that shocking incident were etched permanently upon her soul. They didn’t torment her the way they had in the months after the accident. Time and therapy had given her coping skills that kept the distress at bay most of the time. However, this time of year always brought the memories back to the forefront, as the accident had occurred on a day much like this one. Shaking off the troubling thoughts, Maggie went inside, poured herself another cup of coffee and brought it with her to the office to start her workday.

  She took a second to check her phone and found a text from her brother Eric, who would soon graduate from high school.

  Help me. They’re driving me nuts. I don’t want to go to college this year. I need a break from school. Promise you won’t tell? I have a secret!

  Maggie wasn’t surprised to hear of his lack of interest in college. He’d been less than enthusiastic when her dad and stepmother, Andi, had taken him to tour a few schools and had only applied under pressure from his parents, teachers and school counselors. He’d gotten into all five schools he’d applied to and had reluctantly committed to Northwestern in Andi’s hometown of Chicago right at the deadline.

  When have I ever told your secrets? Spill it!

  I’m applying to the Peace Corps.

  Whoa. That was huge news. I LOVE that. I can see you doing that for sure.

  Really? I can teach ASL, he said, referring to American Sign Language. Eric had been born deaf, and Maggie had learned sign language from him and Andi. When Maggie had been unable to get a job as a family counselor after grad school, that skill had come in handy, as she’d been hired to provide sign language for criminal trials.

  Really! It’d be such an adventure. Let me know how it goes, and when you’re ready to pitch it to the parents, I’ll help.

  You’re the best. LY

  LY2. Keep me posted.

  He replied with the thumbs-up emoji.

  Maggie hoped Eric would be able to pull it off, especially since their dad was super gung ho about all of them going to college. She’d met plenty of people in college who didn’t belong there and wasn’t afraid to say so to her dad and Andi if it came to that. Perhaps Eric could take a couple of years to volunteer and go to college later.

  Teresa, the overnight program manager, appeared at the door to Maggie’s office a few minutes later. “Good morning.”

  “Morning. How are things?”

  “All quiet. The McBride family had a good morning. Debbie had the kids up and ready for the bus stop.”

  “Did they have breakfast?” Two days last week, the McBride kids had gone without breakfast because they’d been running late to make the bus. Maggie had sent them off to school with granola bars and juice boxes.

  “They did.”

  “Well, that’s progress.” In addition to providing emergency shelter, counseling and career services, their program aimed to help struggling parents learn skills and routines designed to prepare them to eventually live independently with their children. Some of the mothers needed this help more than others. One of the things Maggie had come to appreciate was how the more experienced mothers stepped up to offer wisdom and counsel to the younger ones, which gave them a community of support that would hopefully outlast their time at Matthews House.

  “In other news, Corey is having pains. Could be Braxton Hicks. I’ve got her first on the list for Arnelle when she comes in.”

  Maggie was alarmed to hear that twenty-year-old Corey Gellar might be in early labor with her first child. She’d come to them via a referral from Davidson County police after they intervened in a domestic situation at her home. Her live-in boyfriend had been arrested for assaulting his pregnant girlfriend and was still in jail. “How far apart are the pains?”

  “Twelve minutes.”

  “Damn it. She’s only thirty weeks. Should we call for rescue?” These were the moments Maggie found most challenging in her new job. When did a situation become a crisis, and how did she know whether she was doing the right thing?

  “Corey didn’t think that was necessary.”

  “Okay,” Maggie said, exhaling. “We’ll see what Arnelle has to say.”

  Maggie’s day spun out of control from there. When Arnelle determined that Corey could be in early labor, they called the rescue. Maggie ended up at the hospital with Corey until they decided to admit her to see if they could stop her labor. Maggie stayed until a friend of Corey’s came to be with her.

  “I’ll check on you after a bit,” she said to the petite young woman with blonde hair and fragile features marred by bruises that infuriated Maggie. How any man could hit a pregnant woman, she would never know.

  Over the last few months, she’d had to take a mental step back from questions like that, or she’d go mad from the things she saw and heard on a daily basis. She would never understand how people could do such things to the people they loved, but it happened far too often.

  Arnelle liked to say the crises kept them in business, which was sadly true. She also said dark humor was necessary to keeping one’s sanity when working with families in turmoil.

  As Maggie drove back to the house, down scenic, winding country roads, she had the window down and the stereo volume cranked up. Around here, country music was all the rage, but it wasn’t her jam. She preferred her alternative playlist to country, not that she’d admit that to her sister Kate, one of country music’s biggest stars.

  For Kate, Maggie made a rare exception to her no-country-music rule. She loved Kate’s work, as well as that of Kate’s husband-and-wife mentors, Buddy Longstreet and Taylor Jones. Buddy, Taylor and their four children were family to Kate a
nd Reid, who’d grown up with Buddy.

  Maggie took the last turn before the security checkpoint where the handsome young guard waved her through, flashing a big smile. Xander was always friendly and flirtatious with her. However, she didn’t encourage him because she was in no place to be thinking about men or dating or anything like that. The thought of it made her shudder in revulsion after what she’d been through with the last guy she’d dated.

  She navigated the long lane that led to the Matthews estate, driving past the two-story Tudor-style guesthouse where Kate had spent her first night in Nashville, and pulled into her usual parking space behind the stables. Only as she walked around the stables and came face-to-face with a handsome man wearing well-worn denim and a formfitting Western-cut plaid shirt did she remember the meeting with Brayden Thomas that she’d failed to reschedule after Corey’s early-labor crisis.

  The photos she’d seen of Brayden hadn’t done him justice. Tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and brown eyes, he looked like a movie-star version of a horse wrangler. He removed a battered tan cowboy hat from his head in a gesture of respect she found ridiculously charming.

  “Are you Maggie?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  He stepped forward, hand extended. “Brayden Thomas. Nice to finally meet you.”

  She shook his work-roughened hand and met his intense gaze. Manners and eye contact, two things that mattered for people who worked in equine therapy. “You as well. So sorry to be late for our appointment. I had an emergency with one of the women.”