Sweet Grass (eBook)

Love Can Be Messy

David Hudspeth (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2024 | 1. Auflage
308 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3509-6798-2 (ISBN)

Infos

'Sweetgrass' is a romantic mystery set in Charleston, SC, and a sequel to Pluff Mud. It follows the continuing adventures of Air Force veteran Tom Blackstone, his adopted daughter, Jenny, and his close friend, Jack, as they hunt down a serial killer while trying to navigate their own personal loves and losses.

David Hudspeth is a multi-talented writer, chaplain, and retired Air Force veteran. He brings a unique perspective to his work, drawing on his diverse life experiences to create compelling stories that resonate with readers. David and his wife, Elizabeth, a nurse and native of Charleston, South Carolina, are proud parents of two children. They enjoy exploring new places and cultures through travel, as well as spending quality time together watching movies and reading books.

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The Blackstone Mysteries continue! Air Force veteran, Tom Blackstone, has just opened his new detective agency with the help of his adopted daughter, Jenny, and best friend, Jack. Tom and Jenny are hot on the trail of a serial killer terrorizing downtown Charleston, and all three of them are navigating new loves, recent losses, and the ghosts of past traumas. Can Tom keep Jenny safe from the killer and from the tragedies that haunt them both? And will either of them find the true love they're looking for before the killer strikes again?Set two years after "e;Pluff Mud,"e; "e;Sweetgrass"e; explores the power of love to heal our wounded hearts, how families can form even in the most tragic of circumstances, and the possibility that miracles really do happen.

Textauszug

Chapter 1

Jenny

The heat was suffocating, thick with humidity that hung heavy in the air. I desperately struggled to pull that air into my aching lungs, which were collapsing under the boot that pressed down into the center of my chest. I’ve heard that in the last moments of your life, all the important events, your joys and your sorrows, flash before your eyes. Something near that happened to me now, though my thoughts didn’t flash back to the day I was born. I grasped at the shoe holding me down, trying to wrench myself free from under it, to no avail, and I saw the glint of the blade as it rose above my attacker’s head. Instinctively, I threw my head to the side and covered my throat with my elbows. My last vision was of the young man lying next to me, his throat already cut and oozing blood onto the handmade rose that lay upon his chest. His own hands covered the wound, slowing the flow, and his breathing was as labored as mine. I had arrived at the moment when his killer was about to strike again. It wasn’t soon enough to stop the first slash, though my shouts startled the killer sufficiently to not finish the job. Unfortunately for me, the attack turned my way. I put up a valiant effort defending myself, but it wasn’t enough to save either of us. Both the young man and I were fading to black, and as my eyes closed, I could only think of graduation day.

“Jennifer Campbell Blackstone!” I heard booming over the loudspeakers.

It still sounded strange to hear that name. Who would’ve thought that in just two years Jenny Campbell would be an adult, graduating from high school, and sporting the name Blackstone? That’s what happened though, just not in that order. When my mother, Mary, died at the hands of a child trafficker, it was Tom Blackstone who not only rescued me from that man but then adopted me, becoming the father I lost when I was six years old.

As I crossed the stage to receive my diploma from my high school principal, I looked out into the crowd and saw my family. I wasn’t related to a single one of them, but they all contributed to my upbringing in some way. Tom, Papa to me, stood tall above them all, and Jack, my surrogate grandfather, sat in his wheelchair next to him. Every other resident of Pointview Condos was there. Well, most of them anyway. There was a new family who recently moved into 203 that I didn’t know, and the Middleburgs, who owned the building, were on a river cruise in Germany. The rest were there, cheering loudly and making my cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and pride. It was too far away to be certain, but I assumed it was a tear that Papa wiped from his eye. He thrust his hand into the air, clinched into a victory fist, and I waved back enthusiastically. The principal gave me a moment, then urged me over to the bishop, who handed me a prayer book embossed with my name and graduation date, June 1, 2013. This tradition went back several generations for those of us graduating from Porter-Gaud, the area’s only Episcopal high school. As I descended the stage and walked back to my seat, Jack gave me a thumbs up, which I returned with a slight curtsy.

Two hours later, the bus my papa rented dropped us off at A Taste of the Coast, Lydia and Carol’s restaurant on the north end of King Street in downtown Charleston. Not thinking about Carol being the head chef and Lydia the maître d’, I assumed the restaurant was open for business and we were going to take over the garden area for a private party. It surprised me when Lydia unlocked the door, led us in, and turned on the lights. The restaurant staff in unison shouted, “Surprise!” and I realized we had the whole place to ourselves. The same strands of white lights that decorated the garden extended inside in loops that hung from the ceiling. Tied to the corners of the mahogany booths were balloons announcing Happy Graduation, Congratulations, or Class of 2013. Along the back wall, a buffet offered hors d’oeuvres, canapes, charcuterie, and every dessert my heart could desire. I stared, awestruck by all I saw.

“Maybe we overdid it, Lydia,” Carol commented.

“No,” I countered. “I’m just so overwhelmed. I can’t believe you closed your restaurant on a Saturday night just for me.”

Lydia walked up to me and held my hand. “Just for you? Jenny, you don’t realize how much you mean to all of us. We couldn’t love you more if you were our own daughter.”

Everyone in the room nodded in agreement or said, “That’s right.”

“I suppose, in a way, I am,” I affirmed. “If it weren’t for all of you, I don’t know that I would’ve made it to today.” I turned to look at Tom and Jack. “Especially you, Papa, and you, Pops. I just don’t know how to thank you all.”

“We know you’re grateful, Jenny,” Honor explained. Honor, Lydia, and Carol were like mothers to me, and they took care of my mom from the moment I got kidnapped until the day she died in the hospital, just after I made it there to see her one last time.

“You show it every day, honey,” Honor continued, drawing out her words in her proud, Southern accent. “Now, why don’t we all get this party started? I’m plum famished.” Honor led the way to the buffet, but I stayed still. I was lost in those thoughts when I felt a nudge on my calf. I glanced down to see Max, our tricolor beagle, peeking up at me with his big, brown eyes. I kneeled down and scratched him behind the ears, thinking about how grateful I was. “Maxie,” I said sweetly to him, his tail wagging excitedly at my tone, “even you came to celebrate.”

My gratitude wasn’t an exaggeration, especially to these ladies and my new dad and grandad. If it weren’t for Jack and Tom taking me in, I don’t know that I would’ve lived beyond the first year after my mom died. Luckily, I had a lot of counseling and the summer to get through the shock, but I barely survived my junior year. Thanks to my teachers and their encouragement, I made it through with mostly B’s and a couple of C’s. There were many days I thought about throwing myself into Charleston Harbor or jumping off the Cooper River Bridge. It was because of these two men, and their constant love and empathy, that I didn’t. That and the knowledge that my mom died to save Micah, the seven-year-old boy walking by me now with his mom, Anna, and her fiancé, Ben. I was proud to be Mary Campbell’s daughter. If she hadn’t taken a bullet meant for Tom, I too would be in the hands of human traffickers, as would Micah and eight more young girls that were rescued because of Tom’s efforts with a little help from Max’s sharp nose for clues. I owed it to my mother, not only to live, but to make a difference.

Sensing my thoughts, Tom, who was standing behind me, put his hand on my shoulder. “Mary would be so proud of you, Jenny.”

I turned and hugged him tightly, sinking my cheek into his firm chest, as I had so many times over the past two years. Just when I thought I would give in to the darkness, Tom had a way of knowing it. His muscular arms would encircle me like a bear, and he would let me cry for as long as I needed. Jack, who wasn’t one to let his wheelchair slow him down, always knew what to say to cheer me up or to encourage me to press forward.

“I miss her, Papa.”

“I do too, Angel,” Tom replied, using the nickname he gave me, often saying that I rescued him just as much as he did me. There was a time when I thought Tom and my mother would date, but Tom was in love with Rachel, the wife of the man who caused all our problems. Though Rachel and Michael were about to be divorced, Tom’s affair with her never stood a chance once Michael ended up dead. Not that Rachel mourned his murder, it was just too much for her to process that she was married to a pedophile and human trafficker. After Tom solved the murder and rescued me from Michael’s brother, Monty, Rachel moved away to figure out what she really wanted out of life.

“Sometimes, I get mad at God because my mom and dad are gone,” I confessed.

Jack rolled his chair to our side, a bouquet of bright red roses in his lap. “He’s a big God,” he reminded me. “He knows how you feel and he can handle it.” Jack handed me the roses. “Here, these are for you.”

“I know he can, Pops,” I said and took the bouquet from his hands. I held them to my nose and inhaled. “These are beautiful. Thank you for them and for always knowing what to say. I know my mom and dad are with him now.”

“That’s right,” he said as he squeezed my hand tighter, “and they’re up there looking down on you right now, two guardian angels for one very important girl.”

“Important? Me?” I resisted. “Why do you say that?”

Tom gaped at me. “Because he went to a lot of trouble to lead me to you, to put us all together when we needed each other the most, and to make a family out of this crazy group gathered here tonight.”

I smiled at Tom’s description of us and thought maybe he was right. Maybe I was important. I knew I was to the people in this room, and I knew I wanted to do something important with my life, a topic I planned to discuss with them later this weekend. Now was our time to celebrate, though, and after two years of mourning, I was finally ready to do so.

I surveyed the line at...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 7.11.2024
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• ISBN-13: 979-8-3509-6798-2 / 9798350967982