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Home Where She Belongs

By Penny Frost McGinnis

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CHAPTER ONE


Sharp breaths pulled from Sadie Stewart’s lungs. Her legs wobbled like cooked spaghetti, as she pushed to reclaim her routine and run the rest of the route. Confidence surged through her as her running shoes crunched dried leaves and pounded the hard dirt trail. Her beloved canine companion kept rhythm with each step.

Aged maples decked in orange and scarlet bent across the road and shaped a golden canopy. The pungent scent of wood smoke hung in the air. Rosie's red flag of a tail slapped the calves of Sadie's legs as she bounded alongside her. Her dog never judged her or caused her pain. Not like the man who had ripped her emotions to shreds.

A chill wind from Lake Erie rushed at their backs and pushed them toward the only place Sadie found peace, her grandparents’ home. Every summer for twelve years, she’d lived in the warmth and comfort of their care, played with her friends, and helped her Gram clean the rental cabins. Grandpa had deeded the property to Sadie, but she’d neglected the place for three years. Now, she depended on the island rentals to rescue her from a life of regret and hurt.

Around the curve, she pushed her legs harder. A daily run helped clear her mind and build her strength. “Run, run, run.” She panted. Run, run, run… from him.

Fear dogged every step as she raced toward freedom from the man who shattered her heart. The memory of Bryce Shaw's screams and accusations played akin to a recording in her head. She prayed he'd give up and not track her to the island.

His constant text messages and incessant calls obliterated the peace she sought. She'd changed her phone number once, but he must have dragged it out of her father. Or Dad offered her information without hesitation. At least the island’s spotty cell service might delay the next threat to tranquility.

Tomorrow she'd drive her Mini-Cooper onto the ferry and search for the closest place to trade in her number. This time she'd keep it to herself, except for the handful of people familiar with her story. She'd enlist the folks at the phone store to help her block the two people who tormented her. Two birds with one stone, as Gram used to say. Her father, who had never loved her, yet forced her to work for him, and Bryce, the man who had destroyed her trust fueled her determination to start over. As she ran, sorrow swallowed her heart. The hurt and humiliation weighed heavy as an anchor.

Her legs carried her to the edge of her yard. The sanctuary where she'd spent summers, she now embraced as home. Across the road, waves splashed against the shore and invited her to stay. Her grandparents' voices echoed in her head as if they called to her. “Sadie girl, we miss you.”

Many hot, muggy days she'd rested by the lake’s edge, feet dipped in the water as the sun shone. She’d begged to understand why God saddled her with parents whose hard veneer kept her at arm's length. Her mom had resented Gram and Grandpa’s kindness. Her dad resented everything. Sadie lived for her grandparents' gentle ways. Now she longed for the calm she'd experienced those sun-filled seasons she'd stayed on the island. She’d sprinted the last few yards of her run, determined to build on her gram's cottage rental business and live a life of peace.

The sagging porch floor stretched across the front of the snug cabin she’d call home; the one Grandpa had built. Sadie dismissed the loose boards and chipped paint, as her heart relished the love those two precious people wrapped around her. She’d lost them both, but they’d left her a place to start over, hope of a new beginning.

She paced across the yard to the guest cottages, two quaint bungalows she planned to rent to Abbott Island tourists. With a little elbow grease she’d make them gleam. Hands on her hips, Sadie treaded back to her house and stretched her weary legs on the weathered step, one foot at a time. The run energized her, but she sensed pain in her future. When her muscles stopped screaming, she climbed the steps to the wooden, paint-chipped rocker where her grandpa used to whittle. She ran her hand over the rough wood and longed to rest beside the one man who took the time to listen. He had loved her without strings or conditions. She’d tucked years of fond memories in her heart. No one could steal those.

After she conquered the dirt in the cabins, she'd refinish the rockers. She'd search for a how-to video and attempt to follow the instructions. Sadie's head fogged with the challenges of resurrecting her Gram's business. Maybe she'd taken on more than she could handle, but when she prayed for guidance, she sensed peace in this sanctuary she loved.

Sadie showered, then rambled room to room and penned a list of to-dos for the house. Paint the loft, the space she'd adored and made hers every summer. Add new backsplash behind the sink and stove, scrub the cabinets, and cover the crayon drawing she'd decorated the living room wall with as a blooming five-year-old artist. Gram never covered her handiwork. She said it brought a smile to her each day. Sadie sighed, sweet memories. She folded the list of repairs and pressed it into her fixer-upper folder, with her checklist for the cottages. The old homestead needed a facelift, but today she'd bask in the glow of her grandparents’ gift.

On the porch, Rosie curled between the rockers and settled into a red-haired fur ball. Sadie petted the dog's soft coat. “Thanks for running with me, girl. I don't know what I'd do without you.” The Golden Retriever lifted her head and gave her master a lopsided grin. Sadie smiled then rocked her chair. The rhythmic click-clack soothed her soul.

Sadie’s gaze followed sailboats as they bobbed across the choppy water. The folks who sailed in October showed dedication and determination. Like Joel, the boy who stole her heart the summer she turned eighteen. The one she'd let go of eight-years ago. Where had he landed? He'd talked about travel or college. He might still live on Abbott Island. If she ran into him, would it be awkward? Maybe she'd duck and run.

Memories of Joel warmed her heart, even as the brisk air chilled her. Sadie scurried inside and dragged one of her gram’s quilts off the couch, wrapped herself in a cocoon, and settled in the rocker. Gram had blessed more than a hundred people with her intricate handiwork. Her creations enveloped folks in comfort. If only Gram's quilts had protected her from Bryce, the man who tried to destroy her.

The purple bruise on her arm from three months ago faded, but the sting of betrayal remained. Sadie had made the mistake of confronting Bryce in his apartment, instead of a public place. He had grabbed her when she moved toward the door, then thrown her on the sofa, like a rag doll. He hovered over her. His hot, nasty breath washed over her face. She jerked her head away when he tried to push his lips on hers. Disgusted by his anger and demands, she had grasped his Tiffany lamp, smacked him in the head, and ran.

Sadie tightened the quilt around her shoulders. Her heart raced. Breathe. She focused on the waves as they lapped the shore. Their rhythm calmed her nerves. Her counselor's voice echoed in her head. “Center your thoughts on God's peace.”

How?

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