Whisper Ridge, Wyoming #3
When love is on the line, the only way to move forward is to challenge ghosts of the past and find a place to belong.
High School Teacher Chris, an amputee since his teens, has wrestled with darkness and emerged victorious. He’s a pillar of strength in the classroom, deflecting his overbearing family by day and yearning for love by night. Yet a recent reminder of his fragility at the Lennox ranch has stirred spectres of his past. Enter Noah and his son, Fox, who bring a glimmer of hope into Chris’s life, igniting a fire that dares him to fight for love once more.
After big-city pastry chef Noah inherits his great aunt Lilly’s diner in the small Wyoming town of Whisper Ridge, he can finally escape the painful memories and media fallout of an abusive marriage. He wants to rebuild their lives in a safe place, but starting over isn’t easy when money is running out, the rainbow flag in his window draws the attention of the local fire-and-brimstone pastor, and the past rears its ugly head. Through it all, Noah must decide if he’s ready to open his heart again, especially to his son’s teacher.
Noah and Chris fall in love, stand up for what is right, fight their demons, and find a happy ever after despite the odds.
I didn't let this one flounder on my TBR list for years like the second book and I'm so glad too. Spring Rains is a beautiful tale of healing, starting over, life never keeping you down. I was going to say second chances but generally second chances in the fictional world tend to refer to people getting a second chance to get it right but Chris and Noah are strangers when the story starts, they are both looking for a second beginning or starting the next chapter of their lives but not quite the usual definition of the "second chance" label.
Noah is an amazing father and despite Fox's initial reaction to living in Whisper Ridge, he actually settles in quite nicely and he too is healing, starting over, and becoming a better person. Now that's not to say he wasn't already a great kid because he is as we see through Noah's internal thoughts and fears and truth is the reaction to the move is quite typical for a teenager. I'll admit I was surprised at the choice of friends RJ Scott gave Fox as I was expecting him to be closer involved with the two boys we got to know in Summer Drifter up at Lennox Ranch but then I suddenly remembered they were younger and then I was pleased as punch with the young man's friendships.
The cute meet that set off a tidal wave of chemistry between Chris and Noah was short but powerful. Chris barging in thinking more vandals were messing about in the old diner shows the kind of man he is and Noah first thoughts of protecting his son went a long way to show his character as well. I love the natural progression of the relationship in Spring Rains, especially considering Noah recently having escaped an abusive marriage and Chris's fears what being an amputee could mean to a significant other. So real, so beautifully scripted. Just all around yummy.
As for the amputee and Chris' fears about intimacy. I'm going to bring up a couple of personal points of my family here to address my review point. My grandfather, though he had both legs he lost use of them as the MS took over his body but it never dampened my grandparents love for each other. My mother too has both legs but her health has weakened their strength along with other changes to her body. She went through a 3 week outpatient pain clinic about 12 years ago to help adjust to daily life with chronic pain without narcotics and one of the courses was managing intimacy. Now, this is a subject I don't want to think too much about in terms of my grandparents and parents but my point is that the way the author deals with Chris's fears is believable, honest, and flat-out realistically heartwarming. A short moment in terms of wordage and pages but a hugely powerful moment in storytelling. Thank you, RJ Scott, for once again touching on things too often glossed over.
Simply put before I start revealing too much(wink wink): Spring Rains is deserving of it's place in Whisper Ridge, Noah and Fox have earned their place in the community, and Chris is a perfect example of staying where you're comfortable isn't out of fear of venturing into the world but knowing where you feel at home. They have all found a home in this reader's heart
RATING:
Chapter One
Noah
Sitting in the car with the engine idling, I stared through the car window at Lily's Diner, halfway down Main Street, in the small town of Whisper Ridge. The windows were covered on the inside with broken down packing boxes and a solitary rainbow cling was stuck between the cardboard and the glass. Peering through the windshield, which was being covered by a thickening layer of snowflakes, I reached for the controls and flicked on the windshield wipers. The blades moved back and forth, clearing away the snow, so I could get a better look.
“It’s strange seeing it like that,” I said to Fox, nodding toward the diner.
My son, with the requisite shrug of not caring about anything these days, glanced at me, then back down at his phone.
The wipers continued their rhythmic motion, swiping away the snow that was falling heavier now. We sat in silence for a moment, the gentle patter of snowflakes against the car so pretty.
“It used to be so full of life,” I added. “It’s a shame to see it all boarded up like that. Well not boarded. I mean, with flattened boxes, cardboard I think. What do you think?”
Fox grumbled something under his breath, but I was used to that— he hadn’t forgiven me for leaving Columbus for this trip down memory lane, whatever the reason.
I stared back at the diner and couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia. It was something from my past, memories of happier times before everything imploded. Despite its abandoned state— Lily had been gone for over a year now— the place was part of Whisper Ridge's history, a reminder of better times.
Thank you, Aunt Lily. I wish I’d come back sooner. I’m so sorry.
Out front, the Lily’s Diner sign, with its open white flower and my great-aunt's name, swung gently. For some reason, she'd left the place to me, so Aunt Lily’s little piece of Whisper Ridge was mine now, and even sitting here in my car, staring up at the sign, I didn’t know if I deserved it. The town was smaller than I remembered, or maybe I felt bigger, older, weighed down by everything that had happened since I was last here. Not least the divorce, which was still a fresh hurt, and one of the reasons I’d decided not to sell the property, but to reopen the diner.
Somewhere new for us.
Safe.
A fresh start for me and for my son, Fox, because there was no way my ex, Briggs Lewiston, MLB pitcher for the Columbus River Kings, would be seen dead in the-middle-of-nowhere Wyoming.
Not to mention, it might give me a chance to get my head straight and stop jumping at shadows.
Fox, slouched in the passenger seat, was the spitting image of his dad, Briggs, with his dark brown eyes, blond hair falling in a curtain over one eye, and that stubborn tilt to his chin telling me he was pissed. He’d been tapping away on his phone, as he had been doing the entire three days and change hotels and driving it had taken to get here, and now, as he stared at the diner, his brows were knitted in a frown that seemed to be his default expression these days. Fourteen was a wonder of mood swings and surliness and boy did Fox ace every facet of being a teenager.
“Why here, Dad? I mean, look at this place.” Fox’s voice was flat, his gaze not leaving the screen.
At least he was back to calling me Dad. There had been a shaky few months after I’d left Briggs and gotten custody of Fox, when he’d decided I didn’t have to be called Dad. Never mind that I’d brought him up since Briggs and I married when Fox was six. I’d been the one ferrying Fox to school, attending events, helping with homework, teaching him to swim… me. I loved Fox. I was his dad in every way possible.
Hell, I’ll take Fox calling me Dad again as a win in a very long battle.
I sighed, my fingers wrapping around the cool metal of the diner keys. “It’s a fresh start, Fox. For both of us.”
He snorted, finally checking out the diner. “A fresh start in a freaking ghost town. Great.”
“Language,” I murmured without heat.
Fox rolled his eyes. “I hate Papa, but at least we had a life back there.”
The implication scared the hell out of me— was Fox thinking we shouldn’t have left? If Fox ever chose to go back to Briggs over me, that would be his decision. Biologically, he was Briggs’s son, but I’d have run away to a country with no extradition rights before letting Fox anywhere near his dad until he was old enough to decide for himself. Thankfully, Briggs’s indifference to his son, and some of the things Fox had seen his dad do to me, meant he was with me. There was so much I could’ve said about why his father’s world had no room for us, but the words caught in my throat, tangled up in the heartache and betrayal.
Instead, I stared at Fox, really looked at him, and part of me hoped the things he’d seen were forgotten, because I didn’t want him carrying fear and hurt around forever. But to suggest moving back with Briggs? “Fox, your papa… he’s got his life, and it’s not one that’s good for us. Not anymore, you know that.” The DUI charge, gambling, throwing games, filing freaking bankruptcy… the everything messing up Briggs’s former charmed life, was a hateful place for anyone to be, let alone a fourteen-year-old kid abandoned by one of his parents.
“Whatever,” Fox said, trying for sullen, but the weight of sadness in his tone was overwhelming.
“And this diner, it’s a piece of family, of history, and maybe it can be a good thing for us, a fresh start somewhere new.” He shot me an incredulous stare, as if I’d said I was happy we’d moved to the moon. “We could’ve stayed in Columbus, then I wouldn’t have had to leave school. Seb is having a party this weekend, and I’m missing out.”
I schooled my features into sympathy, but all I could think was thank fuck he was missing any party with those asshole kids he’d hung around with. To say I wasn’t fond of the friends he’d had at the academy was an understatement. The school and the pupils were obsessed with materialism, constantly surrounded by the best and most expensive things— nothing in their lives had any authenticity. I didn't want Fox to be a part of that.
I pressed on, trying to connect with him by changing the subject. “You know, my Aunt Lily used to show me how to make the most awesome pies right in that kitchen. It’s where I learned to love her craft, and that’s why I chose to be a pastry chef.”
Fox was unmoved by my statement, taking in the weathered facade of Lily’s Diner. “That’s your ancient history, Dad. It’s not mine.”
“It could be yours too,” I murmured, more to myself than to Fox. Memories of Aunt Lily’s warm laugh, the scents of her baking, and the summers I’d spent here until I was eleven… those short weeks each year were some of the happiest times of my life. Until, just like that, they were gone. My parents divorced, my dad heading off to find himself and never coming back. Then, Mom remarried and moved herself and me to France, and an entire ocean between me and this tiny town had severed any connection I had to Whisper Ridge.
I placed a hand on Fox’s shoulder, feeling the tension in him.
“I know this is hard on both of us, but how about we give it a chance, Fox, see how it goes, and if in six months you want to go back…”
He turned a hopeful gaze to me. “For real?”
What did I do? We couldn’t go back to Columbus, back to the media gaze, and Briggs, and the River Kings fans who didn’t believe their beloved pitcher had done anything wrong at all.
“Give me six months, to the end of the summer, yeah?”
He narrowed his gaze. “August is eight months, not six.”
“Eight months then.”
He grimaced, frowned, then faced the diner again, his shoulders tight. That was all I was going to get— an agreement to try at least for a few months, albeit a frustrated, angry silent one. I knew that was as much as I could ask for the time being.
I could only hope this chance I’d taken would be enough for us, that we’d open the old diner, make a go of it, find our place in this town, and then stay. I felt for a moment things could get better for us both. I had to believe that for Fox and for me. This diner wasn’t only a building; it was a link to my past, and maybe it was a foundation for a new beginning if I could manage it. Everything might go wrong. I might fuck everything up, and Fox might end up hating me, but I had to try.
“Okay, you want to go inside and check it out?”
He shot me his patented do-I-have-to stare, but then he nodded. “Okay, then coats on, gloves, hat, scarf; it’s cold out there.”
Fox muttered something about knowing how to dress in the cold, and we bundled up to brave the bitter iciness of this mid-January day in the Wyoming mountains. As we stepped out of the car, the crisp, cold air hit me, sending a shiver down my spine, and freezing my breath. I pulled my scarf up to cover my face, and saw Fox had done the same, his eyes wide at the shock of ice. Whisper Ridge was a stunning white canvas, the peaks of the Wind River Range barely visible, shrouded by heavy, dark clouds. Snow blanketed everything, smoothing out the rough edges of the landscape and draping the trees lining Main. The streets were deserted, but then, it was three in the afternoon on a Saturday, and I thought maybe I’d seen one or two people, but I imagined the whole town had decided to huddle indoors, away from the biting cold. The buzz I remembered of everyone going about their business was absent, replaced by a hushed stillness only a heavy snowfall could bring. With each faint crunch of my shoes against the snow-packed ground, I left a crisp imprint behind.
I paused for a moment, taking in the serene beauty of it all. The way the snowflakes danced in the air before settling, the soft outline of the stores under their snowy roofs, the quiet— it was all breathtaking. The harshness of the cold was undeniable, but so was the beauty it brought.
“It’s a winter wonderland,” I mumbled into my scarf, but a gust of icy wind stole my words, and Fox didn’t hear my fanciful nonsense. We headed for the door.
“Aunt Lily’s legacy to us,” I said a little louder.
“She’s not my Aunt Lily,” Fox muttered, his voice muffled by his River Kings scarf. He was right— she was my mom’s aunt, no blood relation to Fox, a bit like me, but the link through me was unshakeable.
He was a step in front of me, his reluctance showing in trudging through the banked snow, scuffing his boots as he stuck in his ear buds, but at least he’d headed out.
The key turned, and as I went inside, I waited for the jingle of the bell sounding like a welcome home, but there was nothing, the metal kick plate bent back to stop the noise. The inside was a stark contrast to the warm, buttery smells that had greeted me each morning on of those summers long ago, in the original diner. The life in this new place had surely faded since Lily’s passing, and it felt like a photograph from an old album— frozen in time, colors dull— and the sound of our footsteps was the only noise as we closed the door behind us. Despite shutting out the snow, it was as icy cold inside as it was out.
There were still scuff marks on the worn linoleum floor, and we followed them in. By the glow of my phone, I located and tried the lights, but there was no electricity, which was another thing on my to-do list. Instead, I eased out the loose hooks and took down the cardboard blocking the window on that side of the restaurant. The sudden appearance of the pale sun bounced off the snow filtering inside to give us enough light to find our way.
I inhaled sharply as old memories flooded my thoughts and left me feeling something between the grief of never having come back to Whisper Ridge and a manic happiness at being here now. It was the oddest sensation, and I wondered how much of it was bound up in leaving Briggs and feeling free for the first time in eight years.
“Look!” Fox exclaimed.
I followed his finger, which was pointed toward the back wall, where, in bright neon orange, there was a crudely drawn cock and balls. Vandals had been inside, and I glanced around, searching for more damage, but couldn’t see any. Stools were pushed haphazardly under the counter. The red vinyl seats had small cracks and creases and were more of a sad looking thing than a reminder of the people who’d sat there. On one of them, the stuffing peeked through the cover, and I poked at it with a finger.
“This is so sad,” Fox said with a sigh, pushing open the door to the kitchen. Above the counter, a menu board hung without the descriptions of daily specials, and every corner of the place sat empty of life.
“What am I doing?” I asked the empty space, given Fox had vanished. I was worried for a moment. Then, recalling the layout of the place, knew there wasn’t much space for him to get lost in. There again, were there knives in the kitchen? “Don’t touch anything sharp!” I called out.
“Doh,” Fox replied, his voice dulled by the closed serving pass.
Doh was another word that Fox used a lot, specifically when I asked him to watch out for something, as if I hadn’t had to take him to the emergency room when he’d climbed the tree in the yard.
The teenager handbook, page 5, doh. Page 6, whatever. I had an entire list of things I could add to the book. Talking of lists, I took off one of my gloves and pulled out my phone. Top of the to-do list was to enroll Fox into the local middle/ high school in nearby Collier Springs. Next was visiting the bank, third was a lawyer. I scrolled down and added a new line, electric to the diner, then pushed the glove back on before my fingers froze.
Our new home.
It needed a breath of life, a new beginning, but with the apartment above, this could be what we needed. The U-Haul wouldn’t be here until Thursday, so, in the meantime, we were booked into Ridge Hotel, which, if I remembered right, had barely more than eight rooms on a good day. Plenty of time to roll my sleeves up and get the apartment in shape for Fox and me. Time to get the electricity back on because this place needed to be loved again. And maybe, just maybe, Fox and I would be the ones to bring it back to life.
And fix us in the process.
Saturday's Series Spotlight
Writing love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.
She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.
BOOKBUB / KOBO / SMASHWORDS
EMAIL: rj@rjscott.co.uk
Spring Rains #3
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