Crystal Lake was blessed with a concert like none it had ever seen before. Cain Black kept his promise. He played until his fingers couldn’t move anymore, and not one person left.
Not until long after the last note was played.
Read on for an early look at
The Christmas He Loved Her
Coming October 2013 from Sourcebooks
Chapter 1
The cemetery where his brother rested was a desolate place in late November. It sat upon a drab green hill, surrounded by a forest of pine and birch. In the distance, Crystal Lake shimmered through skeletal tree limbs like wisps of blue silk as a cold wind swept inward and drew white caps on top of the water.
Jake Edwards pulled his jeep over to the shoulder, cut the engine and slowly exhaled. His fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly they cramped, and though he stretched them out and tried to relax, it was no use. He was wound tighter than a junkie in rehab, and he drummed a methodical tune along the dashboard as he gazed out the window. This particular cemetery was the oldest in town and many of Crystal Lake’s founding families were buried within its borders. Grand mausoleums and tombstones rose against the dull gray sky, painted dark, like a macabre, city skyline. He stared at them for several long minutes, eyes hard, mouth tight, as a light rain began to fall. It was nothing more than a drizzle really and created a mist that hung over the cemetery, though he only had eyes for the row just beyond the large oak tree.
Row number thirty-six. His brother, Jesse’s, row.
The darkness in him stirred leaving the taste of bitterness on his tongue. He let it settle. He let it burn. Hell, these days it was the only thing that told him he was still alive.
A crow flew lazily in the sky, slicing through the haze until it swooped low and settled on top of a large, stone angel not far from him. The bird ruffled its feathers in slow controlled movements. It cocked its head, then turned and stared at Jake—small beady eyes steady, as it slowly blinked.
Abruptly, Jake turned the key and put his jeep in gear. He continued down Lakeshore Road because he sure as hell wasn’t ready to deal with the cemetery yet.
His parents were expecting him, but first he had one more stop—a certain someone he needed to see. A certain someone he was damn sure had no desire to see him, and he didn’t blame her one bit. Not after the way he’d left things.
Jake Edwards had screwed up and it was time to set things right.
Five minutes later he stepped out of his truck and slung a worn leather bag over his shoulder as he glanced up at a small cottage set back a few hundred feet from the road. At one time it had been a carriage house and was a solid structure built entirely of large blocks of gray, weathered, limestone. A simple white spindled porch ran the length of it, with empty baskets hung at each corner, their usual treasure of poppy-red geraniums long dead.
An old, rickety rocking chair moved gently on its own there, the legs squeaking as it moved back and forth, pushed by either the crisp breeze that rolled in off the lake, or the ghost of Josiah Edwards, an ancestor said to haunt the woods.
Jake pulled the collar of his leather jacket up to his chin and shuddered as a strong gust of wind whipped across the still green lawn. He glanced up at the sky once more. Clouds gathered, a bulbous display over the lake, their slate gray color barely discernible amongst the gloom.
They were definitely snow clouds.
Jake took a step forward, eyes narrowed as his gaze took in an expensive Mercedes parked near the house next to a rusting and faded-yellow Volkswagen. He wasn’t sure who owned the Mercedes but the rust bucket he knew well. The ancient beetle had seen better days that’s for sure, but then it had been a broken down mess when she had first bought it.
The car belonged to his sister-in-law, Raine, and in a world gone to shit, was something that hadn’t changed.
Jake slowly perused the property. He spied a weather beaten bench near the tree line and knew that if he took the path that led through the woods to his right, he’d end up at his parent’s home—eventually. It was still a hike, several miles to be exact, but this parcel of land, boasting an acre and a half of p
rime waterfront, had been a wedding present to his brother and his then-new bride, Raine.
A familiar ache crept across his chest and for a moment he faltered, his eyes squeezed shut. He pictured the three of them, Jake, his brother Jesse, and Raine decked out in their wedding finery. It had rained that day, a good omen according to some, and Raine’s dress was tattered along the hem from dancing outdoors in the mud while his brother’s tuxedo had remained crisp and clean. Jake’s tux, however, was as ruined as the bride’s dress. They’d posed for a picture, the three of them, there beneath the ancient Oak, near the bench.
Jake sighed and opened his eyes, resting once more on the empty bench. It needed a fresh coat of paint. He shook the melancholy from his mind and strode toward the house, his long jean-clad legs eating up the distance in no time, each step placed in front of the other with an assuredness that belied the turmoil he felt.
Jake Edwards had left Crystal Lake nearly a year and a half ago and damned if he’d not been heading home ever since. He’d just not known it until now. And even though he was pretty sure Raine Edwards wanted nothing to do with him, he was going to try his best to make amends. It was the least he could do. For Raine. For Jesse.
And maybe, for himself.
He stepped up onto the porch and heard voices inside. His gut rolled nervously. She had company. Maybe now wasn’t a good time.
His dark eyes drifted toward his jeep. Ten seconds and he could be outta here before anyone knew better. He took a step backward, weighing his options, his jaw clenched tightly as the all too familiar wave of guilt, anger, and loathing washed through him. Coward.
Jake ran his fingers through the thick mess of hair atop his head and tried to ease the tension that settled along his shoulders. He’d not seen Raine since the fourth of July, and they’d not parted on good terms. They’d both said some things…hurtful things, but he’d made everything worse by taking off for what had only meant to be a few weeks to clear his head. The few weeks had turned into months and those months had bled into nearly a year and a half.
Jake blew out a hot breath and reached for the door when it was suddenly wrenched open and a bundle of gold streaked past his feet and barked madly as it did so. It was a ball of fur that ran crazily down the steps, with a chubby baby frame barely able to manage them. He stepped back and then the puppy was forgotten as he stared down into the face that had haunted him his entire life it seemed.