Shimmering Emeralds - Ann Omasta - E-Book

Shimmering Emeralds E-Book

Ann Omasta

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Beschreibung

He’s a little bit country. She’s a whole lot of rock and roll. Can these two opposites meet in the middle or will secrets from the past rob them of their second chance at romance?

Fiery Meg Stark might be tiny, but she’s tough. She’s managed to raise her adorable little girl, Harper, all on her own. The last thing she needs is a man to get in her way.

Levi Ryan left their quaint hometown to pursue his dreams as a country singer in Nashville. Now he’s returning to Brunswick Bay Harbor without making it big, and the last person he wants to face is his lifelong crush, Meg.

When a horrific school bus crash brings Meg, Levi, and their entire coastal Maine town together in ways they never could have imagined, will these delightful characters find a way to heal and move on from tragedy, or will their secrets destroy them? Find out now in Shimmering Emeralds.

These exciting contemporary romance novels have been known to make readers desperate to binge the rest of the books in this addictive series. You’ve been warned!

Brunswick Bay Harbor Gems:
1) Shattered Diamonds
2) Shining Pearls
3) Shimmering Emeralds
4) Shadowed Rubies
5) Shocking Sapphires
6) Shaded Amethysts

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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

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Shimmering Emeralds

Brunswick Bay Harbor Gems

Ann Omasta

Contents

Free Book!

1. Meg

2. Levi

3. Meg

4. Levi

5. Meg

6. Levi

7. Meg

8. Levi

9. Meg

10. Levi

11. Meg

12. Levi

13. Meg

14. Levi

15. Meg

16. Levi

17. Meg

18. Levi

19. Meg

20. Levi

21. Meg

22. Levi

23. Meg

24. Levi

25. Meg

26. Levi

27. Meg

28. Levi

29. Meg

30. Levi

31. Meg

32. Levi

33. Meg

34. Levi

35. Meg

36. Levi

37. Meg

38. Levi

Epilogue - Meg

Shadowed Rubies Sneak Peek - Dani

About the Author, Ann Omasta

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1

Meg

My head pounded with the beginnings of a migraine. My sister, Claire, owed me bigtime for bailing and leaving me to deal with an entire school bus full of elementary school-aged children without her. If she were here, we would be talking and laughing about the cacophony. Without her, it just sounded like incessant jackhammering in my eardrums.

Of course, Claire had a good reason for skipping out on today’s field trip to Portland’s Old Port historic waterfront district. Her husband’s mistress was giving birth to his baby. If it wasn’t for the throbbing behind my left eyebrow, I would shake my head in silent disbelief over that jaw-dropper.

The fact that Claire’s lifelong love, Alex, had cheated on her while she was being held captive blew my mind. Knowing that Claire had managed to forgive Alex––along with the hussy that slept with him––and planned to accept the child into her family was positively earth shattering.

Claire was a much bigger person than I was. We all knew that, but this proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt. If I’d found myself in the situation she had encountered upon her return after a horrific year of captivity, Alex Biggs and Josie Michaels would have both had black eyes, and I’d have been sporting a sore, bruised fist.

My sister handled the entire situation like a lady, though. She was calm, sophisticated, and mature about it. Now, she and Alex were expecting their second child, and Josie was giving birth to Alex’s bastard. Although Claire would never refer to the baby in such a crass manner, and she would be appalled that I did, I was big on calling things like I saw them. I believed in brutal honesty, in almost everything.

Claire was giving Hannah a younger sister, and I was excited to see the two of them grow up together. I couldn’t––and didn’t want to––imagine a life without my amazing older sister. I would make sure Claire’s baby knew how lucky she was to have Hannah for an older sibling, and I’d show her the ropes of how to be a perfectly pesky younger sister.

Turning to the seat beside me, I smiled at both my beautiful niece, whose life was getting ready to be turned upside down by two infant siblings, and my adorable daughter, Harper. Harper was the ray of sunshine in my otherwise mundane, average life. She was the one thing I’d managed to do right, and I couldn’t be prouder of her.

The long, stuffy bus creaked and groaned as we headed south on the winding, hilly road toward Portland. It was a brisk, but sunny day with puffy white clouds hanging high in the sky. Armed with a fleece sweatshirt to ward off the chilly wind coming in to shore from the water, this would be the perfect day for us to explore the seaport.

I heard the ruckus in the seat behind me and knew immediately what was happening. My first thought was that we needed an adult to deal with the situation, but then I realized that I was the grown-up here.

Cringing as my shoulders involuntarily leaped up near the sides of my head, I reluctantly turned around to find out exactly what we were dealing with here. One of the little boys sitting behind me had a greenish pallor and a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead as he covered his mouth with a hand and tried to contain his gagging.

Having struggled with motion sickness more times than I cared to think about, I had no doubt about what was happening.

Mumbling behind his palm, the little boy looked up at me with huge, frightened eyes and said, “I don’t feel very good.”

Scrambling to find something, I grabbed the paper bag I’d packed with our snacks for the day and dumped out its contents in the empty spot on the bench of my seat. Handing the bag to the young man just in time, I said, “It’s okay. You can throw up in this.”

A chorus of ‘Ewww!’ erupted from the other children in our area as the child gave in to the overwhelming nausea. Afraid that it might start a horrible chain reaction, I leaned over to slide down my window, leaving it open a crack for some fresh air and said to them, “Just ignore it.”

They were all staring with appalled looks at the embarrassed little boy, so I decided some distraction was in order. Despite how much I didn’t want to, I forced some enthusiasm into my voice and suggested, “Let’s all sing a song!”

This idea was greeted with excited chatter and numerous shout-outs of annoying, repetitive tunes that we could sing.

Just as we started an overly loud rendition of “Old MacDonald Had a Farm,” a flash of movement on the side of the road ahead of us caught my eye. A huge figure stumbled out into the road directly in front of us, but before I had a chance to register if it was a moose or something else, our bus driver swerved to avoid hitting it.

The next few moments went by in slow motion as our school bus careened to the side, children screamed, and we slid out of control before tipping over completely and rolling into a ravine on the side of the road.

Once we stopped, an odd moment of silence ensued as we sat there, stunned by the frightening crash. I blinked and tried to orient myself as I realized that the bus was sitting at a strange angle, almost completely upside down.

The tilt of the massive vehicle concerned me a great deal as I got my bearings and began to move gingerly, checking for broken bones. Just as I was thinking that we should all use extreme caution in our movements, in case the bus was balanced precariously on the hilltop and on the verge of tumbling further down, the frightened kids erupted into absolute chaos.

2

Levi

When I opened my eyes, I blinked several times trying to alleviate the grogginess. My mind was fuzzy as I tried to piece together where I was and what had happened. Almost of its own accord, my hand reached up to my forehead. The thick, warm glob of blood there made me simultaneously wince and gag. Knowing I needed to pull myself together, I forced myself to focus through the dizziness.

It had all happened so fast, it was blurred together into one confusing, horrific moment in my mind. Suddenly, I realized that the school bus I’d been driving had crashed. A frigid surge of sheer terror that one of the children in my care might be injured engulfed my senses.

My memory fully returned in a nauseating flood. The man in the road had startled me so much that I had yanked the steering wheel to avoid hitting him. I had broken the number one rule of being a school bus driver. I knew not to endanger the kids by swerving to avoid hitting anything, yet in that fraction of a second, I’d seen a fellow human being in our path. When his terrified eyes locked with mine, my instinct had taken over, and I’d done my best not to hit him.

Despite the quick jerk of my hands on the wheel, I’d thought I would be able to recover and not hit the man or hurt any children. We must have been on some black ice on the road because when I turned the huge steering wheel, the ancient yellow school bus began sliding out of control.

Almost like when a person falls, but doesn’t realize what happened until they are on the ground, we careened around and toppled over the edge of the ravine in a fraction of an instant.

The bus was quiet… too quiet. It took me a moment to get my bearings because we were nearly upside down and tilted at a strange angle. I turned my head around, trying to glimpse the back of the bus, but couldn’t figure out why it was so still.

Bile rose up in my throat and threatened to upheave as I silently prayed that no one was injured. I would never forgive myself if anyone––especially a child––had been seriously hurt.

Holding on to the seat with one arm, hoping to keep myself from falling too hard to the top of the bus, I used my other hand to push the button to release my seat belt.

After a controlled fall toward the ceiling, I reached up to try to find the radio. I needed to get these kids off the bus, but first, we needed help to be on the way to us. One look out the shattered window, told me that we most likely were not at the bottom of this hill. The last thing we needed was for the bus to fall any farther before we could evacuate it.

Somehow, my voice managed to sound only slightly shaky as I relayed our location and precarious situation to dispatch.

Their response was fuzzy, and I was forced to assume they got the message down correctly because the bus suddenly went wild as a wave of panic swept through the rows of kids. My hopes of hearing what dispatch had to say were eliminated by the frightened screams of children. Although I was glad to hear that they were conscious, their piercing shrieks made it difficult to focus.

Knowing that I needed to get a handle on this before they began scrambling to get out of the bus and toppled us further down the hill, I raised my fingers to my lips and let out a high-pitched whistle. The sound was startling enough to catch everyone’s attention.

I knew the moment of silence would be brief, if I didn’t calm everyone down, so I spoke in a clear, loud voice, despite my growing sense of panic.

“Everyone please be quiet. We will get you off of this bus, but we need everyone’s cooperation.”

A quick look at the front doors of the bus told me that exit route was blocked by a large tree branch. Deciding to try our luck with the other exits, I made my way through the nearly upside-down aisle toward the back of the bus. The roof hatch was of no use because it was practically sitting on the ground. It could only be opened a few inches.

The back door and window emergency exits would be our only means of egress. One of the emergency windows was broken with dangerous shards of glass dangling precariously. A girl was working to release the latch of the window on the other side.

“If you’ve got this exit covered, I’ll go get the back door open,” I said to her.

“Yes, I’ll get it,” she promised before turning to glance in my direction.

In that brief moment, it felt like the ceiling fell out from under my feet as recognition bolted through my system. I would know those gorgeous green eyes anywhere… Meg Stark. The one that got away.

She still wasn’t any bigger than a minute. In fact, I had believed her to be one of the kids. Proving that she was still as fiery as ever, she aimed those green lasers in my direction and spat, “I said I’ve got this. Take care of the back.”

I didn’t have to be told twice. My mind would have to process later the shock of seeing Meg for the first time in over five years. Right now, we had an emergency to deal with––a terrible emergency that I had caused. It was yet another thing that Meg could hate me for.

As I made my way to the back of the bus, a frightened little girl grasping her knees as tears silently streamed down her cheeks caught my eye. “It’s going to be okay,” I promised her, hoping that I was right and silently cursing myself for being the cause of all of this trauma.

She lunged into my arms, and I didn’t have the heart to set her aside. Instead, I carried her toward the back of the bus. When we got there, I held her with one hand and used the other to unlatch the emergency exit door.

After flinging the door open, I said to the girl, “Step down to the ground, then climb up there.” I used my finger to point to a meeting place a safe distance away. “As kids come out of the bus, tell them to come up and stay with you, okay? Can you be in charge of that?”

She nodded solemnly, obviously taking her responsibility very seriously. Once she took the big step down from the top of the bus to the forest floor, she darted off in the direction I had indicated.

The children’s teacher, Mrs. Wright, touched my shoulder. The older woman looked frightened, but rational. “What do you need me to do?”

“Go out there and keep track of the kids at the meeting point.”

After helping her down the big step, I added, “There’s a man out in the woods somewhere. I’m not sure if we hit him.”

Mrs. Wright nodded her understanding before making the trek to the prescribed meeting spot.

I quickly began ushering more children out the door and instructing them to leave their belongings behind and follow their teacher. The frightened kids scurried out the door and ran to safety. I kept a count of them, but realized that I’d been so startled by Meg’s appearance that I hadn’t asked her to do the same. We would need to do a proper head count once we had everyone safely off the bus.

Of all of the mornings for me to have had a sick cow to deal with at my parents’ farm, which nearly made me late for the field trip, this had to be the worst. Normally, I liked to greet everyone as they boarded the bus and do a mental inventory of who was riding with me, as well as a full inspection of the bus.

This morning, I had skidded in just as it was time for us to leave. Principal Johnson had handed me the roster of passengers on a clipboard. I hadn’t even glanced at it or walked around the bus to do a minimal kick of the tires before boarding and taking off on our trip. Any other time, I would have known Meg was on my bus.

Forcing myself to focus on what was important in this moment, I watched as kid after kid jumped down to safety. There were some bumps, scrapes, and quickly forming bruises, but thankfully, I hadn’t seen any major injuries.

Proving that my sixth sense around her hadn’t completely evaporated, the tiny hairs on my arms stood at attention. Sure enough, when I turned around, Meg was standing directly behind me.

“We are down to one little boy who needs help to get down because of an injured leg,” she informed me.

“Okay,” I nodded, already walking toward the front of the bus, sweeping my head back and forth to check for anyone we might have missed.

Meg mumbled, “Oh, of course, he doesn’t believe me.”

I decided to ignore it, rather than point out that it was better to be safe than sorry. Besides, I was certain she’d have plenty to say later about my inability to keep my charges safe.

Once I made it to the front and was satisfied that Meg was right and only the three of us were left on the bus, I turned back to help the injured child.

Despite her diminutive size, Meg was already hefting the boy up as if she intended to carry him herself.

I took long strides to close the distance between us as I said to the stubborn woman, “I’ll carry him.”

“I’ve got hi––” her words trailed off and her eyes went wide with alarm as the bus groaned, shifted, and began to roll further down the hill.

I lunged to wrap my arms around Meg and the boy, squeezed my eyes shut, and hoped with all my might that the two of them wouldn’t be hurt as our bodies slammed into the side of the bus.

3

Meg

Levi engulfed us in his strong embrace as the bus tumbled further into the ravine. The landings were jarring to me, so I couldn’t imagine what they must be doing to Levi as his body shielded us and took the brunt of them.

Despite how frightened I was, I couldn’t help but think that if this was my time to go, I couldn’t imagine a better way for it to happen than ensconced in Levi’s arms after all of these years of desperately missing him every single day. Snuggled close to him was the only place I had ever really longed to be.

As we tumbled, I silently prayed that the little boy, who was cradled in my arms, as well as Levi’s, would be safe. The poor child had to be frightened half to death.

I squeezed my eyes shut and thought of my sweet little Harper. I hoped she wasn’t watching me fall to my death. Seeing her mother die was the kind of traumatic event a child might never recover from.

Finally, the bus stopped rolling. It teetered on one edge before crashing back down to the ground. It had landed right side up, but I was so dizzy from the seemingly endless flipping, it still took me a long moment to get my bearings.

When my eyes were finally able to focus, they honed in on Levi’s. Miraculously, he was still conscious. The loving, concerned gaze he was giving me made my dizziness escalate, but in a strangely pleasant manner.

A slight shiver within my locked arms made me remember the boy we were cocooning. Shifting back, I tilted my head down to look at him. Terrified eyes stared back at me.

Doing my best to keep my voice calm, despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I asked him, “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”

“I… I think I’m okay, but I want my Momm-yyyyy.” The little boy’s chin began to wobble as his face crumpled.

“Oh, I know, sweetheart. I bet she’s already on her way here. Let’s get off this bus and go up to the meeting spot to see if we can find her, okay?”

He nodded, staring up at me with huge puppy-dog eyes.

Since we were in a pile on the floor, I suggested, “Why don’t you try to stand up.”

The boy obeyed, but he only put one of his feet down on the floor of the bus. He tried to hop on his good leg, but it was an awkward maneuver. He stopped to look at me. With his hands clasped together in front of his face and speaking quietly, he asked, “My knee really hurts. Will you carry me?”

“Sure.” I tried to infuse my smile with confidence, even though I had no idea how I would manage my way up the hill we had just rolled down, while carrying the child.

I used the floor to scoot off of Levi, so I could stand. As I moved, I said, “Sorry for sprawling on top of you and practically crushing you.”

“Anytime,” he gave me a wide, ornery grin, and I realized the ridiculous man hadn’t changed a bit.

It was tempting to smack at his chest, but we had more pressing issues to deal with––like getting our trio to safety and making sure everyone else was all right.

When I moved to stand up, I was unable to hide the wince from my expression at the pain that sliced through my ankle and up my leg.

Proving that he was still completely in-tune with my emotions, Levi said, “You’re injured.”

“Nah. It’s no big deal––probably just a bruise or a light sprain.” I lifted my chin, practically daring him to challenge my assertion.

When the little boy raised his arms up toward me, I took a deep breath and lifted him into my arms. He was a scrawny thing, so his weight wasn’t a problem, but I had all of my weight on my right leg. Knowing it was going to hurt like the dickens, I gingerly shifted to the left.

Levi had stood up and was watching me through narrowed eyes. “Ready?”

“Mm-hmm,” I nodded and gritted my teeth, unwilling to show any weakness.

My answer must not have been convincing because when I went to take a step, Levi moved forward, said, “You’re as stubborn as ever,” and swooped us up into his arms.

I let out a startled squeal at the sudden movement, but I had enough sense not to insist that he let me walk on my own. The minor injury to my ankle would likely turn serious if I tried to climb the hill back up to the road with the boy cradled in my arms. The last thing the child needed was for me to take a tumble and drag him along with me. He’d already suffered more than his share of trauma today without me in any way adding to it.

Levi used long strides to stalk down the aisle of the bus. He stepped down from the platform and carried us both up the rough terrain of the hill as if we were as light as a cap full of feathers.

The child leaned his head on my shoulder, completely entrusting his safety to us. It was tempting to do the same with my head on Levi’s shoulder, but I forced myself to stay alert. It was in everyone’s best interest for me to help watch for loose rocks, protruding limbs, or any other obstructions in our path.

I’d been certain that the group gathered up by the road would be frantically waiting for us and that they would send help as soon as they saw us, but things were too hectic up there for anyone to even take note of our approach.

Despite the steep climb, Levi trudged forward, using seemingly little effort to heft us up the hill.

Once we were within earshot of the frantic group, I yelled out for my daughter. “Harper?”

Chaos prevailed as the adults tended to injured children, and even some of the kids spoke to their classmates and tried to calm them as much as they could.

When I scanned the crowd and didn’t immediately see my daughter, I turned wild eyes on Levi. “We’re on even ground now. I can walk. I need to find my little girl.”

“I can help you find her. What does she look like?” Levi offered.

Frustrated, and knowing the adrenaline pumping through my system would help me find her faster, I snapped, “I’ll find her. Just put me down.”

Levi quickly obliged, setting me gently back on my feet. He looked like a lost and heartbroken puppy, so I handed him the boy in my arms. “Take care of him until his mother gets here.”

At Levi’s confirming nod, I brushed the frightened child’s hair back from his forehead and promised, “Levi will keep you safe until your mom arrives.”

Not giving him the chance to object to that plan, I whirled around and shouted, “Harper! Where are you?”

Some innate instinct told me which direction to go. When I finally saw her, I nearly collapsed with relief. Instead, I ignored the pain in my ankle and ran to my sweet, little girl. Her terrified expression met mine.

“Momma, I can’t find Hannah. I know she got off the bus, but now I can’t find her.” Harper’s enormous blue eyes silently pleaded with me to help.

“We’ll find her,” I promised, pulling my sweet child in for a bear hug. “She can’t have gone too far.”