From This Moment, page 1
FROM THIS MOMENT
THE BEDFORDS - BOOK 1
H.C. BENTLEY
CONTENTS
Also by H.C. Bentley
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
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Take Me Home
Bonus Content
About the Author
ALSO BY H.C. BENTLEY
Available on all major book retailers
* * *
Small Town Hearts
Her Last Love
When Love Comes Home
City Boy, Southern Girl
To Love Again
* * *
The Bedfords
From This Moment
Take Me Home
Feel The Heat
Smoky Mountain Christmas
Stay With Me
* * *
Enchantment
If the Shoe Fits
* * *
Stand Alones
Running For Him
From This Moment © 2022 H.C. Bentley
* * *
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be scanned, copied, reproduced, or distributed in any manner for any reason without written permission from the author. To do so would violate the author’s rights under copyright law. Please do not encourage piracy, and only purchase authorized books.
* * *
Cover design by H.C. Bentley
Cover photos provided by DepositPhotos
* * *
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and/or incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance of people (living or dead), places, events, names, or companies is a coincidence.
PROLOGUE
Twenty-five years.
Grace Bedford could hardly believe it had been more than two decades since she’d stood at the altar and said her vows. Even longer since she’d met the man who would eventually turn her world upside down and make it right again, all at the same time. It just didn’t seem possible so much time had passed, how it had flown in the blink of an eye.
She looked across the backyard of the home they shared, over to where her husband stood surrounded by the three children they’d raised together, smiled when her son-and my, how Colt looked like his daddy-made his father laugh.
She felt her heart lift. Ray’s laugh was one of the things Grace first found herself attracted to all those years ago.
Grace watched the four of them talking, smiled as Charlotte-so much like Grace herself-told a story, using her hands to embellish things a bit. Clay, her oldest, sipped from the beer he held and just shook his head at his sister’s storytelling while Colt laughed beside him.
Wishing she had a camera to capture the moment, Grace took another moment to treasure the scene before she headed back inside and made her way to the kitchen. It was her favorite room in the whole house, not only because it was where her family tended to gather the most, but because her husband had helped make it the kitchen of her dreams. She shook her head; she supposed this made her old-fashioned, her love of being in the kitchen, but she didn’t care. Her family had made so many wonderful memories in this room, from Grace teaching her children the basics of cooking to having folks gather or stream in and out while she prepared a meal for the holidays.
Taking a large serving bowl from the refrigerator, Grace began peeling off the plastic wrap she’d used to keep the potato salad fresh. She was digging through a drawer for a serving spoon when a woman’s voice, husky and dripping with warm southern honey, spoke up from the doorway.
“What in the world are you doing in here?”
“Jesus, Celia.” Grace straightened with a jerk, the drawer rattling as she patted her chest just over where her heart pounded at the unexpected voice. “You scared the life out of me.”
“Sorry.” She sounded anything but apologetic. “Just wondering why you’re in here instead of out enjoying the party.”
“There are a couple of things I wanted to see.”
“Which is what Ms. Ann and I are here for,” Celia retorted, referring to Grace’s mother-in-law. “Now, do I have to tell you to scoot or swat you with a wooden spoon?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“How long have you known me?” Celia’s hands immediately shot to fist at her hips.
“Too long.”
“We won’t count years,” Celia agreed as she laughed. “All it would do is make us both feel old.”
But Grace could count the years. Celia Raye was one of her oldest and dearest friends. She’d been with Grace through everything since the day they’d met in the fourth grade. Together they’d faced puberty, boyfriends, college. Celia had stood as maid of honor at Grace’s wedding, while Grace had stood by her friend’s side when Celia had become a widow.
There was little one woman didn’t know about the other.
“Can you believe it’s been twenty-five years, Cee?” Grace sighed as she stuck the serving spoon she’d unearthed in the bowl. “Where did the time go?”
“Into a happy life,” her friend replied simply. “And the lives of your children. I could almost be jealous.” Celia aimed a smirk at Grace as she tucked back a swing of auburn hair.
“So you’ve told me, many times, through the years.” With a quick laugh, Grace handed Celia the bowl.
“If I’d seen him first, I would have fought you for him, too. But he only ever had eyes for you.” Celia watched as Grace pulled another dish from the refrigerator-macaroni salad this time-and grabbed another spoon. “Good thing my Johnny came along when he did or I’d have given you a run for your money.”
“We both would’ve fought dirty,” Grace replied, grinning as she fell into step with her friend. “Then where would we be?”
“We’ll never know. Thank God.” Celia followed Grace outside to the long table where the food was laid out for the guests. Setting her bowl down, she took in the faces of the people gathered to celebrate the anniversary. “How are my godchildren?”
“Wonderful. Every last one of them.” Now, Grace beamed. “Charlotte is set on getting out of Gatlinburg and making a name for herself in New York. Colt is just like his daddy and is determined to follow in his footsteps. And Clay is on track to get his degree and start his work with the park service. I’m so proud of them, though every single one of them is single.” Grace gave a cluck of the tongue and a shake of her head before heaving a dramatic sigh. “At this rate, I’ll never get grandbabies.”
“Impatient?”
“A little,” Grace admitted. “We’re not getting any younger, me and Ray.”
“You’re hardly geriatric.”
“We’re not, no. But we’d like to enjoy grandkids before we are.” Glancing at Celia, Grace sighed again. “Ray’s making noises about retiring soon.”
“Already?”
“He’s got nearly thirty years in at the department, Cee.”
“The time really has flown by.” Celia shook her head. “Is it a problem? Him retiring?”
“No. I just wonder what he’s going to do with all the time on his hands.”
“That’s what honey-do lists are for.”
“True.” The two women laughed together. “And he’s earned his retirement. I’m just not ready to retire yet myself.”
“Is he pushing you to?”
“No,” Grace admitted, “and you know he wouldn’t.” Seeing her friend nod out of the corner of her eye, Grace continued. “I’d just feel a little guilty still working while he’s not. You know, because we could be spending the time together.”
“You’ll figure it out. You always do.”
“Yeah.” Once again, Grace scanned the yard. This time she found her husband deep in conversation with one of his buddies from his squad at the firehouse. Her smile bloomed when Ray’s laughter burst out over the general din of the other guests.
“God, he’s still so handsome after all these years.”
“Hence my jealousy.” Celia chuckled as she handed Grace a tall glass of iced sweet tea. “A look like the one he’s giving you now would just make my day. Hell, my year.”
“I never get tired of that look,” Grace murmured, her lips curving as she met her husband’s eye. She took in the somewhat cocky half-smile, the sparkling of his bottle-green eyes, the rise of a dark eyebrow. The sight of it had her heart racing, as it always did. As it always had.
* * *
From across the yard, Ray could tell exactly what his wife was feeling-and possibly thinking-just from the look on her face. The curve of her mouth may have been from amusement, but the spark in those eyes told him she was just a little turned on at the sight of him. The thought didn’t make him cocky, Ray told himself. It made him a man who knew his woman. And knew her well.
She stood with her lifelong friend, staring back at him, just as she had all those years ago. She wore her wheat blonde hair, now starting to thread with gray, shorter now than she had then. Her heart-shaped face now carried the lines from years of laughter and worry, but those blue eyes hadn’t changed at all.
If anything, Ray thought she’d never been more beautiful.
He watched as Celia leaned over to murmur something in his wife’s ear. Grace’s gaze never left his, even when her lips curved before she burst into spontaneous laughter. The laughter that had first caught his attention more than twenty-five years ago.
He remembered like it was yesterday, smiled to himself as his mind took him back to the day that had changed his life forever.
1
Summer in the Smoky Mountains was prime time in eastern Tennessee. It meant the hustle and bustle of tourists. People from all over the country would be flooding in to visit the park, take in the sights, and boost the economy. For the locals, it often meant long days of catering to those tourists, often in air thick with humidity. But it also meant evenings on the front porch with a glass of strong whiskey as the sun went down and the air blessedly cooled.
It also meant it was carnival time at the local high school.
The summer carnival was a tradition in Gatlinburg. It not only signaled the end of the school year and kicked off summer break, but it was also the way students and staff raised money for programs for the following year. Locals came in droves to ride the rides and snack on their favorite carnival foods. And, with each passing year, more and more tourists were finding out about the event and adding their money to the pot.
The additional dollars had helped fund the art department this past school year. And the year before, the band.
This was the first year Grace Burgess hadn’t been an active part of participating in the running of the carnival. Every year since middle school, Grace had worked a booth, helped plan games, or assisted with clean-up for the carnival. But as a graduate from the high school-and someone who had put in days of work for carnivals in the past-she was declared exempt from carnival duties.
Or, as she felt, she was banned from working the carnival. Go, the committee had said, have fun and enjoy yourself. We’ve got it covered.
Covered, she thought, looking around longingly, without her.
“Are you still pouting?”
Celia Davis, Grace’s best friend in the entire world, sidled up beside her to wrap her arm around one of Grace’s. The leggy redhead was a direct contrast to her blonde friend’s more petite stature.
“Seriously, I don’t understand you. You’ve got the entire carnival at your fingertips-with all games and rides free, courtesy of the committee-and you’re frowning about not being able to work?” Heaving a sigh, Celia just shook her head. “I don’t get it.”
“I love working the carnival.” Grace could feel her face pulling into the pout her friend accused her of and worked to smooth out her furrowed brow. “It’s fun for me.”
“I’m sure it is, but you’ve got to stop frowning. You’ll get wrinkles.” Celia tapped a red-tipped finger between Grace’s eyebrows. “And you’re much too young for wrinkles, darling. C’mon, let’s go find a couple of handsome guys to ride some rides with us.”
“Are you here for the carnival or to meet guys?”
“Honey, don’t you know by now that I am a champion multitasker?” On a laugh, Celia bumped her hip against Grace’s. “Come on. It’s a Friday night. And, this could be our last summer of freedom before we’re tied down with real adult responsibilities. We need to have some fun before we have to be all grown up and boring.”
“Who says we have to be boring grown-ups?”
“Have you met our parents?” Celia met Grace’s look with an arched red eyebrow. “The most fun they have is playing cards on a Saturday night.”
“Hmm.” Considering her friend’s observation of the older generation, Grace had to admit she did have a point. “What did you have in mind?”
“Atta girl.” Bouncing in her high-top sneakers, Celia pointed to a pair of teenage girls heading their way. “There’s Starla and Macy. Let’s put our heads together and see what we can come up with.”
Across the midway, Ray Bedford was hustling. A rookie at the Gatlinburg Fire Department, his squadmates were enjoying putting the new guy through the wringer. Even though he’d cut hundreds of lemons, measured gallons of water, and had mixed enough shake-ups for his arms to feel like they were falling off, he was having a great time.
He was putting some of his firm muscles behind shaking up his latest order, putting on a bit of a show for the customers when he heard it. The big, bold, feminine laugh from just across the midway. Ray’s eyes scanned the crowd outside of his booth, looking for the source of the sound. At a booth a few down from his own, he caught sight of a group of girls, not much younger than himself, laughing as one of them attempted to knock over a tower of milk bottles with a baseball.
Ray smiled as he focused back on the task at hand, pouring the finished drink into a plastic cup, popping the lid and straw into place, and handing it to the waiting customer. As the line at the booth cleared, Ray looked back over to where the group of giggling females still stood.
A different girl was up to the line to take her turn. Her fair hair, all blonde waves, tumbled in a tail down her back. Her face was lit with laughter as she looked at one of her friends over her shoulder. She gave a shrug, still laughing, and held her hand out for a baseball.
He watched as she squared herself up to the game, brought her arm back, and let a perfect pitch fly to knock over the bottles.
Ray knew, then and there, he had to meet this girl. But she was already drifting down the midway, clutching the small stuffed animal she’d won. Soon, she’d be swallowed up by the crowd and out of sight. And Ray would lose his chance.
Ray signaled to his crew he was taking a break, got the go-ahead from the guy in charge. He didn’t give him a chance to change his mind. Giving his hands a quick wipe on one of the bar rags they were using for cleanup, Ray tossed it aside as he hurried from the booth. He headed in the direction he’d seen the girls take, weaving through the crowd as he tried to catch a glimpse of her. He strained to hear over the carnival noises, hoping to hear her laughter again.
When he finally spotted them waiting in line at a food booth, Ray hesitated. Now that he’d found her, how was he going to approach her? He realized he hadn’t thought it through, but didn’t want to come across as creepy. He waited, considering, as she and her friends ordered thick swirls of funnel cake. He watched as they took the confections, covered in a heavy dust of powdered sugar, and started walking away. Without any hesitation, Ray did the only thing he could think to do.
Feigning distraction, he worked his way into her path and “accidentally” bumped into her.
“Hey!”
Her voice was just as great as her laugh, he thought. Bold and husky, not shy and quiet like so many girls he heard these days.
“I’m so sorry.” He noticed the cloud of powdered sugar now on her shirt front and winced a little. Reaching for a stack of napkins at a nearby booth, he thrust a few at her. “Here. I feel awful,” he apologized as she wiped the powder from her shirt. “Let me get you a lemon shakeup as a peace offering.”
“It’s okay.” Wiping at the last of the powder, she tossed away the crumpled napkins. “No worries.”
“Please. I insist.”
When she finally lifted her gaze from her shirt, her face took his breath away. Her wide eyes were an alluring mix of gray and blue-his mother would call it cornflower-and fringed by sooty lashes. Her skin, a smooth peaches and cream complexion, was a bit flushed and dewy from the summer air.
He couldn’t help it. He was mesmerized.
“I promise it’s safe,” he assured her, pointing to the emblem of the Gatlinburg Fire Department on his dark blue shirt. “My squad has a booth. I’m Ray, by the way.” He held out a wide-palmed hand. “Ray Bedford.”
