Joy’s Homecoming (Protectors of Jasper Creek #7)

Prologue

Jasper Creek, Tennessee, One Month Ago

The supply pantry of the Down Home Diner wasn't the worst place to have a mid-life crisis. Okay, I'm twenty-four, so maybe I should call it a Gen-Z crisis.

I looked around and tried to smile, but it wobbled. I'd driven three hours from Nashville just to hide in here, like I used to when I was a kid. Back then, I'd escape into books and dream of bigger places. Now I was living in one of those bigger places, and here I was, hiding again.

I looked down at the self-help book I'd grabbed at a Nashville bookstore, fluorescent yellow marker in hand.

Welcoming Change: How to Transform Your Life In Less Than A Month.

So far, I hadn't highlighted a damn thing.

I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on the things that had always given me comfort in this small room.

The smell of cinnamon. The familiar sounds of the diner—plates clattering, the coffee machine hissing, the low hum of conversation from regular customers who'd been coming here since before I was born. Even now, I could hear my Aunt Lettie shouting food orders to my Great-Aunt Pattie. Since I was a little girl, that hadn’t changed.

Then there was the comfortable feeling of leaning against bags of flour.

I looked down at the book again and studied the table of contents.

Chapter One.

Acknowledge That You Want To Change.

No shit, Sherlock! Why do you think I forked out almost twenty dollars for this book and drove all the way from Nashville to hide out back here in this storage room?

Chapter Two.

Identify What’s Holding You Back.

If I knew, I wouldn’t be out twenty bucks!

Sighing, I closed the book and banged my head against the bag of flour.

Dammit!

I started to cough as flour exploded out of the bag and gusted all over everything, including me. I’d actually ripped a hole in the bag I’d been leaning against, and now I was covered in the stuff. I sneezed and sneezed again. I couldn’t stop.

Perfect.

I looked around and spotted a broom and a dustpan and cleaned up the flour. The last thing I wanted to do was leave a mess for my aunt.

I carefully settled down next to a different bag and started thinking.

So, what’s holding me back? Nashville was supposed to be my fresh start after London.

It was going to be the city where I could reinvent myself, be anonymous, figure things out.

Instead, I’d been there three years and felt more confused than ever.

I'd taken whatever jobs came along: retail, receptionist at a law firm, barista.

Nothing that meant anything. Nothing that felt like me. What was wrong with me?

Fear of failing?

Shit yeah!

Fear of leaving Nashville and moving back home, then admitting I didn't have it all figured out? Absolutely. Fear that everyone would see through my “I'm doing great in the city” act? One hundred percent.

Stop! No thinking of London!

Was my family keeping me away? Mom? Dad? Randy? Seth?

Hell yeah!

They might be my support, my cheerleaders, my lifeline. But they would be all up in my business before I could say hello. Hell, everytime I came home for a visit Mom kept telling me how I could move into my old room.

I almost dropped my book as I heard the distinctive shuffle coming down the hall.

Little Grandma was close. I’d recognize her no matter where I was.

Before I had a chance to hide the book, the pantry door creaked open, and I saw her concerned blue eyes looking at me.

Busted!

“That book doesn’t have the kind of cover I’m used to seeing you read,” she teased.

I laughed. “Since it doesn’t have a picture of a man’s naked chest on it, does that mean you don’t want to borrow it?”

“I like all kinds of books.”

That was true. I got my love of reading from her. She had made the top floor of her house a library, and I had hidden there for hours as a child.

“Tell me, sugar, how do you want to transform your life?”

“I wish I knew. So far, the book has been no help at all.”

“In that case, I probably won’t be borrowing it,” she chuckled.

I pulled up my knees and laid my cheek on them so I could look at her as she pulled up a milk crate to sit down beside me.

“Do you want to talk?”

“Not really,” I admitted. “But I need to.”

Why did I feel like crying?

“I feel like a failure. Almost four years ago, I left for London with big dreams, and everything went wrong. I came home with my tail between my legs and immediately moved to Nashville. I thought a big city where nobody knew me would fix everything. But I’m just existing… not living.”

“You’ve never told anyone what happened. Do you want to tell me now?” she quietly asked.

I shook my head and swiped at one lone tear that had escaped.

“I understand. There were some things I only shared with your great-great-grandfather. He knew all my secrets, and I knew his.”

I couldn’t imagine sharing what had happened. Not when it would mean that my brothers and parents would keep me locked in my room until I was forty because they’d be so worried about me.

“Joy?”

I looked up.

“Can you tell me why you're still in Nashville?”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

She brushed flour out of my hair, and we both laughed. “Sugar, you're living small in Nashville.”

My head jerked up. I couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d hit me over the head with a two-by-four. She read my expression right and started talking.

“I’m not saying city life is small. For some people, it's exactly right.

They thrive on the energy, the anonymity, the endless possibilities.

But you? You're not thriving, sugar. You're hiding in a different way.

This time, instead of hiding in my library, you're hiding in a city full of strangers.”

I was still frowning.

She continued. “Some people need to leave home to find themselves. But sometimes, sugar, you need to come home to remember who you are. Not to stay stuck, but to rebuild from a place of strength.”

Strength, that was a laugh. Like I would ever feel strong again. I looked up, and Little Grandma was giving me a shrewd glance.

“Or is it something else? Are you scared, Joy?”

I felt a tear drip down my cheek.

“Ah, Sugar, I always knew there was something bad that happened in London.” She paused as she wiped my eyes. “But answer me this. Do you have a reason to be scared here in Jasper Creek?”

The question stopped me. Stunned me. I wasn’t. Not one little bit. It wasn’t just because I had my dad and brothers here. It was because it was Jasper Creek. The people here would always rally around me and take care of me. I felt my heart lighten. But then…

“But I can't come crawling back to Jasper Creek. Everyone will think I failed.”

“So what? Since when did my Joy let fear of what others think stop her from doing what's right for her soul?”

Something cracked open in my chest, not breaking exactly, but like a window being forced open after being painted shut.

I sucked in a deep breath that smelled of flour, but it filled my lungs for the first time in ages.

But then familiar panic flared, and my throat choked up. “Little Grandma—” I started hoarsely.

She held up her hand with a glint in her blue eyes.

Ah shit. I knew that look.

“No arguments, my little love. You know I’m right.”

“I’ve been basically gone since I was twenty. I’ve only come home for short visits. What would I even do here? I don’t even know what I want to be when I grow up,” I wailed.

“You’re going to be a kennel technician at the Jasper Creek Animal Clinic.”

Oh God.

Little Grandma was looking as smug as when she got a bingo at the American Legion Hall.

“A kennel assistant? Little Grandma, I’ve worked retail, been a receptionist, and worked overseas as an au pair, but a kennel assistant?”

“And which one of those jobs has been your calling?”

I looked down. “None of them,” I muttered.

Little Grandma got that look in her eye that she sometimes got, like she was seeing something the rest of us couldn’t. “You’re going to need that backbone of yours, sugar. Trust yourself.”

“But a kennel assistant?”

Was that whiny voice mine?

“I don’t expect this to be your calling, either.

But this will get you back to Jasper Creek.

It will give you time to think about what you want to do with your life.

Sugar, I believe in you. You need some time and space to think about what you want.

You’ve got to consider your end game and what things you need to do to get there. ”

“I’m confused. According to everything I’ve read, I’m supposed to concentrate on what makes me happy.”

Little Grandma threw back her head and laughed. “That’s horse-pucky. If you do that, you’ll just tumble through life, not reaching your goals. I knew what I wanted, and therefore I did things to reach my goal.”

“What did you do?” Something told me this would be fascinating.

“That’s a story for another day.” Then she gave me one of her famous calculating looks, and I knew I was in for it.

“In my opinion, when you don’t know what you want to be or do, you have to try things.

Many things. You’re going to like Roxie Laramie.

She is the veterinarian. She was telling me just last week that she was looking for a kennel technician on the night shift.

Her husband has been doing a lot of the administrative work, but I think that isn’t going to last much longer, so I suspect her receptionist will take that over.

I think eventually you’ll slide into the receptionist position smooth as silk. ”

“But I don't know anything about being a kennel technician.”

“Your family always had pets. You have a way with animals. You’ll do fine. You care for them and feed them. Talk to Roxie; she’ll explain everything. Ava is a pistol, you’ll love her.”

“Ava?”

“Ava Jones. She’s the receptionist. Don’t let her talk you into too many shenanigans.”

“But—”

“It's a start, sugar. Not an ending, but a beginning. Come home, not to hide, but to heal. To remember what Joy feels like when she's not trying to be someone else.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a slip of paper that was actually a ticket for food. “This is Roxie’s mobile number. I told her you’d be calling.”

“When was that?” I choked.

“Four days ago.”

“But I just arrived for a visit from Nashville six days ago.”

Little Grandma gave me a sly grin, and I shook my head. Why did I even bother asking?

Little Grandma tapped the book. “You wanted to transform your life in less than a month, well girlie, here's your chance.”

“But I don’t want to live with my parents,” I wailed.

“I’ve got that figured out too. I’ve got an old friend on the outskirts of town who is thinking about renting a room. I told her you’d be an excellent tenant. She lives on the opposite side of town from your parents.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Terror and excitement twisted in my stomach, then something else emerged, something I'd almost forgotten... hope.

“Coming home isn't giving up, sugar. Sometimes it's the bravest thing you can do. It takes courage to admit you need your roots to grow new branches.”

Maybe coming home wasn't about going backward. Maybe it was about finding my way forward. My voice was steady, even though my hands trembled.

Oh God, she was right.

She was always right.

I took the piece of paper from her. “I’m scared, but you're right.”

She winked at me. “Of course I am.”