Excerpt of Sugarplum Homecoming by Linda Goodnight

Chapter One
Bad pennies always return. But what about bad people?

Lana Ross stepped up on the wooden porch of the weathered
old two-story house. Her heart hammered painfully against
her ribs. She’d not wanted to come to this place of bad
memories. She’d had to.

A stern inner voice, the voice of hard-won peace, moved her
forward, toward the door, toward the interior. A house
couldn’t hurt her. If she’d been alone perhaps she would
have given into the shaky knees and returned to the car. But
she wasn’t alone.

Lana aimed a wink at the child at her side. Sydney was her
everything now and no memories were allowed to keep this
nine year old darling from having her very first permanent home.

“Is this where you lived when you were my age?” Sydney
asked, her vivid turquoise eyes alive with interest.

“Uh-huh, Tess and I grew up here.” Grew up. Yanked up.
Kicked out.

A tangle of a vanilla-scented vine, overgrown and climbing
upon the porch and around the paint-peeled pillar at one
end, gave off a powerfully sweet smell. She didn’t remember
the bush being there before, especially this late in the
fall. But then, she’d not seen this place in thirteen years.
Not since she was eighteen and free to leave without looking
over her shoulder for the long arm of the law.

With the sour taste of yesterday in her throat, Lana
inserted the tarnished key into the front door, an old-time
lock a person could peer through, and after a few tries felt
the tumbler click. Breath held, she pushed the door open on
its creaky hinges, but didn’t step inside. Not yet. She
needed a minute to be certain the house was empty, though
she had the death certificate in her bag. Mama was dead. Had
been for a couple of years. As far as she knew her entire
family was dead. All except Lana and Tess and precious Sydney.

She couldn’t make herself go inside. Everything was still
and quiet in the dim living room, but inside her head Lana
heard the yells, the fights, the horrible names she’d
believed and mostly earned.

She and her twin sister, Tess, were no more and no less than
what their mother had made them. Now, all these years later,
Lana was determined to be more for Sydney’s sake.

“We’ll be happy here,” Sydney declared with childlike
confidence.

“Yes, we will.” If I have to fight the universe, you will
have what you need and you will never, ever again live on
the streets or inside a broken down car.

“Can we go in now? I want to see my room. You said I could
have my own room, remember? And we’d fix it up fit for a
princess? Remember?”

“I remember.” The child’s enthusiasm stirred Lana to action.
Sydney had never had a room of her own. She’d never had a
house. They’d lived here and there, in tiny one room
apartments and cheap hotels, all in pursuit of Lana’s
impossible dream. Most important of all, Sydney would be
safe here. No one would ever expect Lana to return to the
one place she’d tried so hard to escape. Especially Sydney’s
mother.

“Who’s that?” Sydney asked from her spot half in and half
out of what had once been the front parlor.

Across the street a man and two children stood in a neatly
mowed yard watching them. Lana’s stomach dropped into her
resoled cowboy boots. It couldn’t be. Surely not.

The thought had no more than crossed her mind than the
sandy-brown haired man with the all-American good looks
lifted a hand to wave and then started toward them. Two
young children, close to Sydney’s age, skipped along as if
on an adventure.

Lana froze, one hand on the doorknob and the other gripping
Sydney’s as if Davis Turner would snatch her up and carry
her away.
“Hello,” he said when he reached the end of the cracked
sidewalk leading to the two-story.

Yep. He was Davis Turner all right. Mr. clean-cut and
righteous. He’d been a year ahead of her in school. No one
in Whisper Falls had a smile as wide, as easy and as bright
as Davis.

Please God, don’t let him recognize me.

“Hi,” she said, not bothering to smile.

“You moving into the old Ross place?” Davis slipped his
hands into the back pocket of his jeans, relaxed and easy in
his skin. The man was much like the boy she remembered.

“We are.”

“Great.” He flashed that smile again. White straight teeth,
easy, flexible skin that had weathered nicely, leaving happy
spokes around greyish blue eyes and along his cheeks. “The
house has been empty a long time. Houses need people to keep
them young and healthy.”

What an interesting thing to say. This house had never been
healthy because of the people in it. “I suppose.”

“We live across the street in the beige brick with the black
shutters. I’m Davis Turner and these are my munchkins, Paige
and Nathan.”

Lana released a tiny inner sigh of relief. Davis didn’t
recognize her, though sooner or later he’d discover he lived
too close to the town bad girl. Would the people of Whisper
Falls still remember? Did she dare hope that time had erased
her teenage indiscretions from inquiring minds?

Not a chance.

“I’m ten. Well, almost,” the young girl at Davis’s side
announced. “Nathan’s barely eight. I’m the oldest. What’s
your name?”

“This is Sydney,” Lana said, purposely providing Sydney’s
name instead of hers. She couldn’t avoid the introduction
forever, but she wanted to buy some time before Davis’s
bright smile withered and he turned on his heels, dragging
his children in a rush to lock his doors and keep them away.
“She’s also nine, just barely.”

Sydney hung back, aqua eyes cautious. She was too shy, too
hesitant with others, something Lana hoped would disappear
once they were settled. Her niece needed friends badly and
Lana prayed her prior reputation in this close-knit mountain
community wouldn’t interfere with Sydney’s happiness.

“Say hello, Sydney.”

Sydney ducked her head, displaying the precise part in her
super curly brown hair. “Hello.”

“Are you gonna live here?” the little boy, Nathan asked.

“We are.”

“Just the two of you?” With the same grey eyes, brown hair
and square jaw of his father, Nathan was handsome. Unlike
his father, he sported a dimple in one cheek.

“That’s the plan,” Lana answered.

“Are you married?”

Paige elbowed her brother. “Shh.”

“But Paige, we have to know,” Nathan protested. “She has
brown hair!”

The adults exchanged glances and smiled. Davis appeared as
clueless about the comment as Lana. What did her hair color
have to do with anything, especially marriage?

Paige, an elfin beauty, simple and pure with pale brown
freckles and ultra short blond hair, attempted to explain.
“What he means, ma’am, is that we’re glad to meet you and
we’d like to get better acquainted. Isn’t that right, Daddy?”

Davis turned his twinkly smile on Lana again, clearly amused
by his children. “Always glad to welcome new neighbors. I
didn’t get your name.”

The jig was up. She’d prayed to get settled before her
tainted past charged in with all guns blazing. Apparently,
God, Who’d brought her this far, expected her to face her
fears head on.

It was now or never. Either Davis remembered or he didn’t.
Time to find out.

Chin up, eyes meeting his, she said, “I’m Lana Ross. You and
I attended high school together.”