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- Herausgeber: Lorhainne Eckhart, INC.
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Serie: The Friessens
- Sprache: Englisch
Two years ago, Sara Friessen’s life was changed forever when a young man from the wrong side of the tracks saved her from a brutal assault. To her, he is brilliant, her savior, the man she plans to marry and spend her life with, the only man she has ever given a piece of her heart.
But to Devon Reed, Sara is the girl he shouldn’t love. No matter how much he tries, Devon, now a young law student, believes he isn’t the kind of guy who should be with the daughter of Andy Friessen.
As he sets out to find justice for a mother who abandoned him when he was a child, struggling to undo a wrong and set the record straight, his life begins to unravel, and he finds more questions than answers. The ultimate cost could be his relationship with Sara, the love they have, and the future they planned together, which seems to be slipping away.
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Seitenzahl: 232
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019
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Copyright Information
Long Past Dawn
COPYRIGHT © Lorhainne Ekelund, 2019. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contact Information: [email protected]
LONG PAST DAWN
The Friessens
LORHAINNE ECKHART
Contents
Keep in touch with Lorhainne
Long Past Dawn
The Friessen Family Series Reading order:
The Friessen Family Tree
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
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Please Leave a Review
What’s coming next in The Friessens?
How to Heal a Heart, Chapter 1
The O’Connells of Montana
The Secret Husband
About the Author
Links to Lorhainne Eckhart’s Booklist
Keep in touch with Lorhainne
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Long Past Dawn
Two years ago, Sara Friessen’s life was changed forever when a young man from the wrong side of the tracks saved her from a brutal assault. To her, he is brilliant, her savior, the man she plans to marry and spend her life with, the only man she has ever given a piece of her heart.
But to Devon Reed, Sara is the girl he shouldn’t love. No matter how much he tries, Devon, now a young law student, believes he isn’t the kind of guy who should be with the daughter of Andy Friessen.
As he sets out to find justice for a mother who abandoned him when he was a child, struggling to undo a wrong and set the record straight, his life begins to unravel, and he finds more questions than answers. The ultimate cost could be his relationship with Sara, the love they have, and the future they planned together, which seems to be slipping away.
The Friessen Family Series Reading order:
Click here to download the complete Friessen Legacy Series checklist and series reading order
The Outsider Series
The Forgotten Child (Brad and Emily)
A Baby and a Wedding
Fallen Hero (Andy, Jed, and Diana)
The Search
The Awakening (Andy and Laura)
Secrets (Jed and Diana)
Runaway (Andy and Laura)
Overdue
The Unexpected Storm (Neil and Candy)
The Wedding (Neil and Candy)
The Friessens: A New Beginning
The Deadline (Andy and Laura)
The Price to Love (Neil and Candy)
A Different Kind of Love (Brad and Emily)
A Vow of Love, A Friessen Family Christmas
The Friessens
The Reunion
The Bloodline (Andy & Laura)
The Promise (Diana & Jed)
The Business Plan (Neil & Candy)
The Decision (Brad & Emily)
First Love (Katy)
Family First
Leave the Light On
In the Moment
In the Family: A Friessen Family Christmas
In the Silence
In the Stars
In the Charm
Unexpected Consequences
It Was Always You
The First Time I Saw You
Welcome to My Arms
Welcome to Boston
I’ll Always Love You
Ground Rules
A Reason to Breathe
You Are My Everything
Anything For You
The Homecoming includes FREE short story When They Were Young
Stay Away From My Daughter
The Bad Boy
A Place to Call Our Own
The Visitor
All About Devon
Long Past Dawn
How to Heal a Heart
Want to know how all the series are linked? Stop by my blog for all the details: http://www.lorhainneeckhart.com/what-is-the-reading-order-of-your-books/
Now Available at a specially reduced price, The Friessen Legacy Collections:
1) The Outsider Series: The Complete Omnibus Collection
2) The Friessens A New Beginning: The Collection
3) The Friessens Books 1 - 5 Box Set
4) The Friessens Books 6 -8
5) The Friessen Books 9 - 11
6) The Friessen Books 12 - 14
7) The Friessen Books 15 - 18
8) The Friessen Books 19 -21
9. The Friessen Books 22 - 24
10) The Friessens Books 25 - 27
11) The Friessens Books 28 - 31
The Friessen Family Tree
Click here to download your copy of The Friessen Family Tree
ChapterOne
Devon was late again.
Sara stared at her cell phone and the third text she’d sent, which he had yet to answer. “Glad that I rate so highly, Devon,” she muttered and tossed her phone onto the counter between the fridge and stove.
She heard a key in the door and lifted her gaze from where she stood in the dated galley kitchen, both hopeful and angry at having been taken for granted. She took in the overcooked porkchops in the skillet on the older yellow stove and the pot of potatoes she knew were only lukewarm, thinking of the salad she hadn’t bothered to make.
“Devon, it’s after seven, and I’d appreciate…” She stopped talking. It was Anton, Devon’s brother, wearing a bulky black hoodie, perpetually pissed off. Her heart sank.
“Sorry, babe, just me,” he said. “So that answers my question. Guess Devon isn’t home.” He pocketed his keys as he swaggered in, and she had to remind herself why she needed to be civil to him.
“I’m not your babe, Anton. I have a name. I’m your brother’s girlfriend. Some respect would be nice.”
He didn’t bother to look her way as he brushed past her to the dated fridge, also godawful yellow but a different shade than the stove, and reached in to grab a beer. He twisted off the cap and tossed it into the sink, where it landed in a cup with a clang. There it was, the disrespect again, considering she was the only one who cleaned this older two-bedroom apartment.
“Point taken,” was all he said. Yup, he still didn’t like her, but then, the feeling was mutual.
She just stared at his back as he strode to the sofa, lifted the remote to the large TV, which took up a good portion of the tiny apartment, and belched. He lowered his large frame and made himself comfortable.
“That dinner you made smells good,” he said.
She rested a cookie sheet over the chops to try to keep them warm, and she again had to remind herself to answer Devon’s brother politely. She wished he’d take the hint and move out instead of continuing to make her feel as if she were the interloper, the one who didn’t belong.
“Yup, help yourself,” she said, taking in the pot of mashed potatoes, as well, and the green beans in the oven. Last she’d looked, they were wilted and overdone.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he said, bumping past her, and she had to press her hand to the counter as he reached above her head to the cupboard and pulled out a plate for himself.
She stepped out of the kitchen. The dated dining table was now free of its usual clutter—cards, keys, cartons, junk, everything that seemed to be dumped there instead of put away. Anton was pulling the green beans from the oven and dishing up a heaping plate, forking not two but three porkchops, then seemed to hesitate.
“Ah, there’s only two left…” He gestured with his fork, and she just lifted her hand, surprised he’d bothered to ask.
“Take them, it’s fine,” she replied. “As you said, Devon’s not here. If he can’t at least give me a call and a heads-up that he’s going to be late, then he can’t expect me to keep dinner warm. Soon it’ll be completely inedible, unless overcooked and tasteless is your thing…”
She realized Anton wasn’t even listening. He grabbed a second beer and headed back to the living room, to his spot in the middle of the sofa, where he lifted the remote and turned on some epic videogame battle.
“Then stop cooking for him,” he said. “Seriously, although it works for me, I can’t believe you’re in there, cooking. He’s busy, you know, being a law student, interning, and trying to make a difference. His head’s elsewhere, you know, with more important things. It’s as if you expect him to do a nine to five and then come home to you. It’s not all about you there, babe. You can’t expect him to drop everything—”
“And come home for dinner because he said he would? You mean I can’t expect him to keep his word and actually show up, because that’s what you do when you’re in a relationship? I said I was cooking dinner, and he said yes, he’d be here.”
Anton shoved the potatoes and beans in his mouth around a hunk of porkchop. He was shaking his head and jabbed his knife her way. “You know what, Sara? I’m tired of hearing you complain about it. If you don’t like his hours, then leave.”
Was he serious? She pulled her arms over her chest, taking a second to push up the sleeves of her dark blue T-shirt. Her feet were in socks, and her jeans hung low and loose on her hips. She fisted her hands, reminding herself again that Anton was Devon’s only brother.
“You want me to move out?” she stated.
This time, he froze with the fork to his mouth before shoveling in more of the dinner she had cooked, and he pulled his dark gaze from the TV over to her, allowing it to scrape down her body before landing on her feet. She hated when he did that. That one look told her what he really thought of who she was.
“That’s totally your choice. Far be it from me to tell you what to do. But then think of how we’d miss doing this, me listening to you complain and such. Yeah, I imagine the peace and quiet may be kind of overwhelming, and I wouldn’t have to deal with all those girly products in my bathroom. Let me think about that.” He paused for a second, and she was too stunned at his arrogance to say anything. “Hell, yeah! Please leave.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded, gripping her arms. “You know what? I have a better idea. Since I’m Devon’s girlfriend and he’s the one who wants me here with him, and there are two of us and only one of you, how about you move out?” She circled her finger toward the door.
He laughed as he scooped up another huge forkful and shoved it in his mouth. “Nope, this is my place, and in case you forgot, my name’s on the lease,” he said as he chewed. Sometimes Anton’s manners rivalled that of a barn animal. She watched him slice a huge piece of pork, look at it, and then drag his gaze back over to her. “Sounds to me as if you’re trying to come between me and Devon.”
The way he said it had her walking back into the galley kitchen and taking in the mess from dinner, then walking right back out again. “No, Anton, I just want some respect. I think I deserve it, and seriously, you think I don’t know you don’t like me and have no use for me? You make your point every day, but you know what? I live here too, and I don’t want to watch you taking over the living room and the TV every night with your video games. Shut it down now, and for that matter, since I do all the cooking here and you seem to have no problem eating everything I cook, you can clean up. I’m not your maid, yet I’m the only one picking up things, vacuuming, cleaning, washing the floors. I swear, before I moved in, I don’t think you and Devon ever cleaned.”
She didn’t think she’d ever seen shock on his face. Then he started laughing. “Hey, there should be some benefit to having you here…”
“You chauvinistic a-hole…” she growled, hearing a key in the door but not turning to it, fighting the urge to wrap her hands around Anton’s thick neck and squeeze. But she couldn’t do that.
He was laughing again, her food still in his mouth. “A-hole? Is that the best you’ve got?”
She was already walking over to the TV. He had the remote on the sofa beside him, so she reached around and pulled the cord from the wall to unplug it. His expression was priceless, and she was still holding the cord as Devon walked in, wearing a white dress shirt and navy suit, his tie pulled loose, a second-hand briefcase tucked under his arm.
His heavy gaze landed on her and the cord. “And what’s going on here?” he said.
“I can’t believe you did that, you fucking little troublemaker!” Anton snapped, not pulling his gaze from her. Mad was mad, and Anton had a way of looking at her when he was angry that would’ve made a sane person think twice about provoking him.
“Hey!” Devon shouted, turning to his brother. “Don’t you dare talk to my girl like that—and you, what the hell are you doing?” He was already walking toward her, his hand out as he gestured to the cord.
She dropped it to the floor and stepped away. “Trying for a little peace around here. Seriously, Devon, your brother’s on that TV the minute he walks through the door. Just this morning, Mr. Lewis from 7B commented on the noise from video games until all hours. It’s waking him up and keeping him awake.”
He hadn’t, really. In fact, when she’d brought it up, he’d said it wasn’t really a big deal. She felt her cheeks warm, and she stepped around Devon into the kitchen when he didn’t touch her. She didn’t hear what he said to his brother, but the next thing she heard was Anton’s footsteps and the door to his bedroom closing.
Devon appeared in the doorway to the kitchen as she took in what should have been dinner. “Do you think you could try to get along with my brother?” he said, his hand on the frame of the door. She didn’t miss the way he stared down at the potatoes in the pot, the wilted green beans, and the two dry porkchops in the frying pan. Everything was cold.
“I’ve tried, Devon, but it’s not all on me. He doesn’t want me here and makes no secret of it, the way he talks to me, treats me, and…”
He was right in her space, his hands on her arms. “I want you here. What Anton wants doesn’t enter into the equation. It’s you and me, remember?”
He leaned down and kissed her, and she went on her tiptoes, feeling his hands slide around her and over her ass, pulling her closer. She tasted his coffee, his day, and she pulled back, still in his arms. He took in dinner on the stove.
“It’s cold, you know,” she said.
He pulled in a breath, “Sorry, something came up.”
Something always came up. This time, when his brooding gaze fell on her, she saw that something hadn’t gone right. Devon didn’t share everything. No, scratch that. He was as closed off as every male she’d ever known—her father, her brothers. Then there was his mother’s case, which she knew had taken up his entire focus and made him change course, studying to become a lawyer.
He said nothing more as he stepped back, reached into the frying pan, and lifted a porkchop to take a bite. She knew she’d have to wait all day for him to say something. He was a man stuck in his head.
“It’s fine,” he said. “Thanks for cooking.”
She blinked, realizing he was talking about the dinner, which she’d wanted to be special. He took another bite before dropping the chop back in the frying pan and reaching for a towel hanging by the sink to wipe his hands.
“It’s not fine,” she said. “So how about you tell me about your day and what’s really going on? I can always tell by that look. Is it your mom’s case or something else?”
There it was, the pull of his lips that hinted at a smile. He gave her all of his hard gaze, and just the way he looked at her, she felt as if he could see everything, even the things she showed no one, the private, personal side of herself that she didn’t let others have. She also knew she was one of the few people that Devon, who wrote the book on being closed off, actually let in.
“Shows, huh?” He shook his head, and she waited. “It was just one of those days, those shitty days where all the work I’ve done appears to be a waste of time. The piles of casework, paperwork, filings…and you know what I did for the last two hours of my day?”
She just stared at him with a sick feeling in her stomach. She knew how hard he worked. She shook her head.
“I packed up the files, put everything in boxes, and carried it all to the storage room, where it’ll go with all the other closed cases. My boss said it was dead in the water, no more appeals, and the parole board isn’t going to hear her now. I was told they have no more time to put into my mother’s case.”
She didn’t know what to say, fearing saying the wrong thing. “So now what?”
Devon shrugged, pushed away from the counter, and stepped around her, not touching her although she was so close. “I’m going to take a shower and then hit the books.”
That was it. She stared in shock at his back as he walked out of the kitchen, and she listened to the bathroom door close, feeling completely shut out and at a loss of what to say. This was the one thing she’d never expected from Devon, for him to simply give up and walk away.
ChapterTwo
How many times had he seen his mother in the past two years? He’d lost count, between visiting days and meetings with the lawyers. Each time, she transformed little by little from a stranger, filled with sorrow and fear, her familiar expression so much like Anton’s, to his mother, whose expression was one of hope.
When had the anger he’d held toward her for so long diminished? Maybe it was him who had let go after seeing the vulnerability she didn’t try to hide, the tears she’d shed in embarrassment. The lawyers had offered her some optimism.
He allowed the hot water to run over his back and head as he pressed a hand against the wall of the shower, trying to will away what he had to do, which was tell his mother she would never get out until she did the one thing she refused to do again: lie.
He heard the door and pulled the shower curtain open, seeing Sara lifting her shirt over her head and tossing it on the heap of the vanity with his dress clothes, which needed a trip to the cleaners.
“What are you doing?” he said, taking in her confident, determined expression as she reached behind herself and unhooked her bra. She gave it a toss as she stepped out of the rest of her clothes, and he took in her incredible body, her full breasts, creamy white skin, and long legs. She stepped into the tub shower, suddenly crammed full with both of them.
“You have to ask, Devon?” she said. “It seems if I let you slither off, you’ll wallow and shut down and pull into yourself, and we won’t speak for days. So here I am.” She turned around, and her long blond hair hung halfway down her back in soft waves. He loved everything about her. “Wash my back,” she said and glanced over her shoulder, waiting, determined.
He reached for the soap in the shower caddy and lathered it in his hands before pressing them over her shoulders, her back. She lifted her hair. It wasn’t lost on him, the contrast from his hands to her soft and creamy skin, which was perfect and familiar and his.
“That feels good,” she said. “So what happened with the case? I know you’ve spent so long on this, the appeals, the parole board hearings…”
He thought about the rest, too, about how he’d been trying to get her ex-boyfriend, Darnell, who’d talked her into taking the fall for him, to finally come clean. It would mean everything and would go a long way toward explaining why she’d done what she’d done.
“You know a chance of parole will never happen for her,” he said. “She’s now trying to do the right thing, but she’s already confessed.”
He’d finally seen the video, the one the cops had made to cover their asses and ensure there’d be no questions about her confession. It had sealed her fate and was the nail in her coffin. She’d been so convincing, and he knew she’d been high, but that was the image of the woman he’d always remembered, the woman he’d hated. Watching it had brought back that day so many years earlier when a mother wrapped up in her own misery did the stupidest thing a woman could do: take the fall for a guy without even a thought as to what would happen to her children.
Sara turned in the shower, stepping closer to him, body to body, skin to skin, the water running over her, too. Her hands ran over his chest, feeling his pecs, his abs. It was a familiar touch that he welcomed, and her all-knowing green eyes didn’t shy away. She gave him all of herself, never filling an awkward silence with talk or using words to try to make something better.
“Turn around,” she said. “I’ll wash your back, too.” She gestured and reached for the soap, and he did as instructed, shutting his eyes as he put his face in the spray. Now what was he going to do? The question ran through his head over and over, even though her touch was a welcome distraction.
“So how come you’re not trying to make me feel better, or telling me to get off my ass and get out there and try something else, or saying I did my best?” he said. That was what Anton would say. His brother expected a miracle where their mom was concerned. Devon wasn’t ready to face him, because he already knew he wouldn’t take it well.
Her hands ran over his back along with the warm, welcoming water, and she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his shoulder as she slid her arms around him, and he felt all her softness pressing into him.
He could’ve turned around then and pressed her against the wet tile. He pictured her legs around his waist as he tried to ease some of his misery. She’d have let him, too. He’d feel better in the moment, and then he wouldn’t. He didn’t move as she rocked against him, her hand touching him, running over his stomach and lower, taking hold of him. He hissed and then sucked in a breath and groaned.
“You really want me to use words, tell you how amazing you are to prop up your ego? Maybe you want me to say I know you did your best, and no one could have done more than you, or it’s okay to give up, it’s okay to cut your losses and move on. Why would I say that, Devon? You’re the last person who needs anyone, especially me, to remind you that you’ve done your best and it’s good enough. You do nothing halfway. I know what you’ve put into your mom’s case. I know what it’s taken from you. I know you’ve searched every nook to find anything that would get your mom out.
“You’ve worked all-nighters alongside her lawyers and then went out the door to school at dawn, looking for some legal precedent, some piece of evidence, anything. So if you want me to say not to beat yourself up, fine, I’ll say it. But I really think you don’t need to hear it from me, because I know you’ve done more than any person could or would do. You’ve gone beyond the impossible because that’s who you are. So no, I’m not going to add my voice or try to make you feel better. I’m going to just be here and maybe wallow with you.”
As he listened to the spray of water and felt the heat, her warmth, he still didn’t turn around. Her hand ran over his chest and back, over his pecs, his stomach, just touching, feeling, being there. She didn’t push, knowing there were some things he just couldn’t share about the case. She never tried to pry it from him. He’d never met anyone with the principles this girl had.
“He said no,” Devon finally said.
Her hands stilled, but she didn’t pull away. He felt her cheek press to his back. “Who?”
“Darnell, the boyfriend she took the fall for, the one who talked her into saying the guns were hers. He said all the right things, like she’d get only a year or two, but he’d get life because of the three-strike law. In fact, that law came down on Mom. She got it, and he let her rot, never once tried to see her. You know that already. He never answered her letters because he moved on to another woman and continued his life of crime—more guns, more drugs. The cops knew. Her first lawyer left a note in the file. Of course, they had their eyes on him, and the next woman wouldn’t take the fall for him. She was smarter. He’s in the federal pen, doing life, so what would coming clean mean for him and his sentence?”
He turned around and took in the caring, the support, the love in her eyes as she looked up at him. Her hair was damp and hanging loose. He couldn’t picture his life without this woman. He loved Sara so much.
“Apparently not what you hoped,” she said.
She wasn’t a ditzy blonde. He didn’t know why the thought hit him now. It was a joke between them. He wondered what fool had coined that term.
He just shook his head. “Nope. Word came down from the prison. All our requests to see him were denied. He’s not interested in talking, said he doesn’t remember who she is.”
ChapterThree
She took in the construction site, the oversized bin that took up all of the driveway, and the house with tacky blue siding. Her brother’s tan pickup and the electrician’s van were the only vehicles parked out front in a subdivision not far from downtown.
