The Falling of Hope (The Falling Series Book 3) Read online

  The Falling of Hope

  Marisa Oldham

  This edition published by Marisa Oldham via Amazon

  Text © Marisa Oldham 2013, 2015

  ASIN: B00HUZ4DX8

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. In accordance with U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. If you would like to use material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author's rights.

  Editors: Angie Martin and Sharon Grages

  Formatting: Angie Martin

  Cover and Photography: Marisa Oldham Photography

  To learn more about author Marisa Oldham,

  please visit her website.

  This work of fiction contains adult situations that may not be suitable for children under eighteen years of age. Recommended for mature audiences only.

  Also by Marisa Oldham

  The Falling Series

  The Falling of Love

  The Falling of Grace

  Erotica

  Naughty & Nice: ‘Tis the Season

  Naughty & Nice: Single’s Night

  The Box (a Novella) Coming Soon

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  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

  The Lie

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Day One…

  Day Two…

  Day Six…

  Day Seven…

  Day Nine…

  Day Ten…

  Day Eleven…

  Day Twelve…

  Sorrento…

  Day Sixteen…

  Venice…

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  For my Aunt Peggy, who taught me that true love is never-ending.

  Prologue

  Ben wraps his arms around Grace’s midsection, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Are you still frightened, darling?”

  Grace takes in a soothing, deep breath while leaning back against Ben’s chest, resting her cheek against his. “No, not anymore. It’s just as you said. Peaceful. I’ve never seen such beauty.”

  On the distant horizon, the sun peaks over the lush Napa Valley Mountains, rays of sunshine shooting out in every direction, bringing the countryside she has come to love alive. A thousand feet below her, bright yellow mustard fields gleam with brilliance.

  “Look, it’s our vineyard,” Ben says, lifting his head and pointing to the patchwork landscape below. “I think that’s our cabin.”

  Grace smiles as memories of her perfect year-and-a-half marriage inundate her mind. Just yesterday, Ben took her on a horseback ride through the vineyard, visiting the valley lookout where he proposed. Her mind wanders to a moment from their honeymoon, wrapped tight in each other’s arms, resting together on a white sand beach, palm trees swaying in a warm tropical breeze. The fresh scent of gardenia kissing her skin, and Ben promising a future of adventures and days brimming with love.

  Each day since she said, “I do,” he kept his promises, filling her days with cherished memories. Whether they are reading together fireside, touring neighboring wineries, horseback riding, or spending the day poolside, every moment with him sparks a fire in her soul.

  For a year and a half, there has not been a day with him absent from her side. Locking the cruel world outside the gates of McKay Vineyards, Ben fills Grace’s life with joy and a sense of security. He is her knight in shining armor, who saved her from a life of trepidation and heartbreak.

  Hot breath tickles her ear. “I love you, Grace. I told you that you had nothing to fear. I’ll always protect you. You never have to be afraid when you’re in my arms.” His grip on her tightens. “You haven’t truly experienced Napa until you’ve taken a hot air balloon ride.”

  “It’s absolutely breathtaking. I never thought I would have the courage to do this. Thank you for forcing me.”

  “I knew you would overcome your fear. How could you not with this view?” His nose brushes along her earlobe. “I don’t know how I’ll survive a single day without you in my arms.”

  Pain grips her heart and tears prick her eyes as she brings her hand up to run her fingers through his shaggy, dirty-blond hair.

  “I hate the idea of having to leave you,” he whispers.

  “I know,” she breathes. “I’ll miss you. I’m going to be so bored without you around to keep me company.”

  “You’ll have Mom and Dad, darling.”

  She turns and takes his face into her palm. “It’s not the same. We haven’t spent a day apart since we got married and each day, no matter how mundane, has been glorious. Who’s going to take me on adventures like this or on a weekend escape to the city or wash my hair in the shower? Who will I cook for? You won’t be there to kiss me goodnight or wake me with sweet kisses in the morning.”

  “I’ll only be gone for a few weeks. I’ve neglected the business far too long.”

  Grace folds her arms around Ben resting her head on his chest, listening to the comforting, familiar rhythm of his heart. “I understand. I really do. Just promise you’ll hurry back to me.”

  “I promise.”

  Chapter 1

  Six months later…

  Water cascades down Grace McKay’s kitchen window, making the landscape outside resemble a Monet painting. Soaking her hands in sudsy water, she cleans a single plate as if in a trance. Taking the plate out of the warm water, she does not take her gaze from the rainy countryside before rinsing and reaching to place it on the tan dishtowel lying on top of the marble counter. The plate slips through her slick fingers and crashes to the floor, shattering to bits. Hardly registering the sound, Grace turns and glances down. Her eyes linger on the pieces of the plate scattered around. Minutes pass by before Grace bends and gathers the broken slivers of the plate, discarding them in the wastebasket. Returning her hands back into the dishwater, she runs the sponge across a single fork, rinses it off, and lays it next to the other clean items.

  Grace puts away her breakfast dishes and walks into the empty living room. Only the sounds of her breathing, the rain tapping the rooftop, and a wall clock ticking, fill her quiet home. Grabbing logs from a pile that sits beside the fireplace, she tosses them inside and lights them. Lost in thought, she stands, watching the flames flicker to a crackling glow. Snapping out of it, she walks over to the bookshelf packed full of a variety of novels. With one hand, she runs her fingers across the spines, scanning the titles, and with the other hand, she twirls a strand of her long blonde hair. Choosing a romance novel, she heads to a chair and pulls a heavy brown cotton throw from it. Sitting down on a sleek, stiff modern couch, she snuggles into some pillows she pulled from her bed when she came downstairs earlier. Sighing, she opens the book and starts the first chapter. The clock on the wall tick-tocks like a metronome luring her into relaxation, the heat from the fire warming her on this cold, rainy day.

  Since her eyes popped open this morning, sadness and emptiness have consumed her. Now that the honeymoon phase is over, marriage is the furthest from what Grace expected when she committed her life to Benjamin McKay two years ago.

  Startled, she jumps when there is a knock on her front door. More surprise takes over when she looks at the clock and realizes how long she had been lost in the novel. Throwing the blanket off, she walks to the front door where she finds Lydia McKay in a long, yellow raincoat and a bright rain hat that obscures part of her face.

  “Hi! Come in.” A thrill of excitement rushes through Grace at the sight of her mother-in-law.

  “Hi, dear,” Lydia says, peeling off her coat, drops of water landing on the bright white, tiled floors.

  Grace takes Lydia’s raincoat from her, directing her to the living room as Grace hangs it on the coat rack and walks to the kitchen. She puts a teapot full of water on the stove, selects two coffee mugs from the cabinet, and pulls out two bags of chamomile tea. Moments later, she balances the full drinks and makes her way into the living room, where she finds Lydia staring into the flames rubbing her hands together.

  “Thank you, dear.” Lydia reaches for the cup.

  Grace smiles, forcing a happy expression, and takes a seat on the other end of the couch, bringing her cup of tea to her lips. She sips
the tea, taking care not to burn her mouth.

  “I came to invite you to dinner. Charlie and I would like to spend time with you before we leave.”

  The invitation delights Grace. Tired of being alone, a genuine smile crosses her lips. “I’d love to come by, but you could’ve called. It’s pouring out there.”

  “Something I’ve enjoyed since I was a kid was walking through the vineyards on a rainy day.”

  “You’re going to catch a cold,” Grace says, with another half-hearted smile.

  “Oh, honey, I’ll be just fine. Don’t you worry.”

  The two women sit in silence, sipping the tea and gazing at the raging fire.

  “I was thinking chicken cordon bleu. Does that sound good?” Lydia breaks the silence.

  “Sounds fantastic,” Grace replies, as her stomach reminds her with a deep rumble that she has not eaten since breakfast.

  Lydia finishes the tea and rises to her feet. “I better get back and start cooking then. It’s almost time for supper.”

  “Do you want a ride back?” Grace asks.

  “That might be a good idea since it’s getting dark.”

  Grace puts her cup of tea, still half-full, on the coffee table and rises to her feet. She smothers out the fire before slipping on her coat.

  The tires of Grace’s compact car slide on the slick, muddy road to the McKay house. Grace pulls in front of the massive, country-style home and Lydia pats Grace on the thigh.

  “We’ll see you in about an hour?” Lydia asks.

  “Sure. I just need to freshen up a bit.”

  Lydia’s eyebrows knit together and a frown falls over her face, concern taking the place of cheer in her usually bright eyes. Lydia does her best to ease Grace’s loneliness by keeping her company, and Grace appreciates her almost daily efforts.

  “Have you talked to Benjamin today?” Lydia asks, with worry in her eyes.

  “No. He’ll probably call late tonight.” Grace lowers her head.

  Lydia remains silent, smiling. She taps Grace on the thigh again and opens the car door. Grace watches Lydia run through the pouring rain toward the entry of the massive home and then takes off for her own lonely house.

  Back at her home, Grace climbs the stairs with a heavy heart. Her footsteps echo through the hall as she makes her way to the master bedroom, cutting through the silence that permeates. Raindrops pound the rooftop of the cabin, and Grace stops in the middle of her room to listen to the rhythmic drumming. Shaking her head, she turns toward her closet with the intent of finding something to wear to dinner. Putting little effort into choosing an ensemble, and not caring too much for her appearance, Grace selects a simple turtleneck, sweater-dress. It’s not like I have a husband around to impress with my outfit, she thinks, laying the dress on the bed. She slips off her clothing, throws it into a basket, and steps into the shower. As hot water pours over her bare skin, she wraps her arms around herself and squeezes. Tears build in her eyes and her heart thuds with a deep, isolated ache.

  After the shower and dressing, Grace sits on the edge of her bed in silence. She stares at a large canvas photograph of her and Ben on their wedding day hanging on the wall above her dresser, their smiles radiating happiness. The captured moment in time seems like a lifetime away, instead of almost twenty-four months before. Grace wishes she could return to that exact moment and hold onto it as tight as she can. Chills cover her body when she closes her eyes and tries to recall what it feels like being in Ben’s arms, to kiss his lips, and feel his breath on her cheek.

  Her cell phone rings, tearing her from the memories. She glances at the screen before she answers it, “Allô?” Even after almost two years moving away from Paris, Grace still finds herself falling into speaking French when talking to her younger sister Michelle.

  “Allô!”

  “How are you, Missy?”

  “I’m okay. I miss you. What’s wrong?”

  Grace answers with a huff.

  “You sound depressed again.”

  “I miss Ben. I’m having another one of my bad days,” Grace says, with another heavy sigh.

  “How long has it been since he’s been home?”

  “I haven’t seen him in over two months.” A twinge of anger taints her tone.

  “Well, you need to tell him to come home.” Grace hears the disappointment in Michelle’s voice and fatigue sets in.

  “You know he’s in London. He’s having problems with the gallery. It’s not doing well.”

  “Excuses,” Michelle interrupts.

  Grace closes her eyes, more sadness flowing into her heart. “I knew when I married Ben that he traveled for work, but when we first got married, he was always home. I guess I just figured having a wife would make him want to be home more often. Over the past six months, I rarely see him.”

  “I know he’s busy, but isn’t that why he hired gallery managers last year, so he could stay home with you? What happened to that?”

  “He’s a perfectionist, I guess. He claims the managers don’t do their jobs correctly and he has to do it himself.”

  “I detest that you’re always stuck alone in that house you hate.”

  “I don’t hate the house.”

  “Yes, you do. He hasn’t changed a thing he said he would. All the furniture is the same and you loathe it. If he’s going to stick you in that house all alone, it should at least be a place you actually like. Have you done any redecorating? Maybe that would cheer you up?”

  “Can we talk about something else besides what an asshole you think my husband is?” Grace asks. Already emotional over missing Ben, she cannot deal with Michelle’s anger.

  “He pisses me off. Why marry you? So he can keep you in his log cabin like a little doll in a box, which he only takes out when he feels like playing? He leaves you all alone and lets you get depressed because he is a workaholic.”

  “Stop, Michelle! Can I call you later? I’m going to Lydia and Charlie’s for dinner.”

  Michelle huffs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t call to upset you. I just wanted to check on you.”

  “It’s okay. You’re right. I’ll talk to Ben when he comes home. I don’t think he understands how much I miss him and how lonely I am when he’s gone.”

  “He needs to,” Michelle grumbles.

  “I know. It’s my fault. I never tell him how I feel. I just keep hoping it’s temporary and that things will go back to normal once he straightens things out with the galleries.”

  “You need to talk to him. Tell him what you’re going through, sweetie. Explain to him how depressed you get when he leaves you for months at a time. It’s not like he’s an idiot. He should understand.”

  “You act like he’s doing this on purpose. He’s doing his job. Ben has been under so much stress.”

  Michelle pauses. “Maybe he’s so preoccupied that he doesn’t realize what he’s doing to you. He does love you, and I’m confident if he knew how sad you are, he’d fix it.”

  “I know. I better get going. Lydia has been slaving over the stove for over an hour and I don’t want to keep them waiting for me.”

  “I love you, sis,” Michelle says. “I miss you so much. Come and visit me?”

  “I don’t know when Ben will get away from work and come home. I want to be here when he does and he could come back any day. If I take off, I might miss him and then who knows when I’d see him again. I better get going. I love you, too. Miss you lots. I’ll call you when I get home.”

  Grace hangs up, grabs a pair of boots, pulls them up to the middle of each of her calves, and walks down the stairs. She turns off all the lights, except for a lamp that sits on an odd-shaped, modern end table next to the leather couch she despises.

  Ten minutes later, Charlie, her father-in-law, greets her with a big burly hug after opening the front door to his home.

  “You look beautiful, my dear.” He pulls her into his warm arms, his white beard tickling her forehead.

  “Hi, Charlie.”

  Grace loves Ben’s parents. Not only did they welcome her into their family, but they are also the people with whom she spends most of her time.