Lowcountry Stranger Read online

  Contents

  Also by Ashley Farley

  One: Sam

  Two: Faith

  Three: Jackie

  Four: Sam

  Five: Faith

  Six: Faith

  Seven: Jackie

  Eight: Sam

  Nine: Sam

  Ten: Faith

  Eleven: Sam

  Twelve: Sam

  Thirteen: Faith

  Fourteen: Jackie

  Fifteen: Sam

  Sixteen: Faith

  Seventeen: Jackie

  Eighteen: Sam

  Nineteen: Jackie

  Twenty: Faith

  Twenty-One: Sam

  Twenty-Two: Sam

  Twenty-Three: Faith

  Twenty-Four: Jackie

  Twenty-Five: Sam

  Twenty-Six: Sam

  Twenty-Seven: Faith

  Twenty-Eight: Jackie

  Twenty-Nine: Sam

  Thirty: Sam

  Thirty-One: Faith

  Thirty-Two: Jackie

  Thirty-Three: Sam

  Thirty-Four: Faith

  Thirty-Five: Jackie

  Thirty-Six: Sam

  Thirty-Seven: Sam

  Thirty-Eight: Jackie

  Thirty-Nine: Faith

  Forty: Faith

  Forty-One: Sam

  A Note to Readers

  Acknowledgments

  For my mother, Joanne, my Lovie

  Also by Ashley Farley

  Breaking the Story

  Merry Mary

  Her Sister’s Shoes

  Saving Ben

  One

  Sam

  A gentle breeze in the late afternoon of an early June day rustled the Spanish moss draped from the live oak trees, bringing with it the smell of the salty marsh to those gathered on the lawn for the wedding of the youngest of the Sweeney sisters. Women tugged their shawls tighter around their shoulders, thankful they’d remembered to bring a wrap for what promised to be a chilly evening ahead. The sun shimmered off the high tide on the inlet, casting Moss Creek Farm in a pale glow. The white-frame antebellum plantation house—with its green-black shutters, large columns, and wraparound porches—stood like a grand old dame, proud and dignified and handsome. A sailcloth tent with wooden poles and pennant flags waving from its peaks graced the upper lawn, encompassing the terraced area adjacent to the house. Servers dressed in tuxedo shirts and bow ties stood ready to pass trays of hors d’oeuvres and champagne-filled flutes. Their instruments in position, the four-member bluegrass band waited onstage for the minister’s signal to begin the recessional music. A picture-perfect evening for Faith and Mike to begin their new lives together.

  Samantha Sweeney thought her baby sister had never looked prettier in a simple sundress fashioned out of white eyelet, and a wreath of daisies atop her head, her mahogany locks cascading around her face in soft curls. The only jewelry she wore was a simple gold cross around her neck and pearl studs at her ears.

  Sam approved of Faith’s new husband, a one hundred percent improvement over her last. Mike’s rosy cheeks glowed and his blue eyes sparkled as he stared down at his bride, promising to love and honor and cherish her all the days of their lives. Wearing a dress similar to her mother’s, Faith’s seven-year-old daughter, Bitsy, peeked out from her hiding place behind her mother’s leg—a position the child had not ventured far from in nearly a year. Sam wondered how Faith and Mike managed intimacy with Bitsy a permanent fixture between them.

  Sam smiled at her son, Jamie, who was sitting next to her on the right. Emotion suddenly overwhelmed her, as it often did, when she took in the sight of his handsome face, his dark curls, and coal eyes.

  Jamie leaned over and whispered, “Bitsy looks terrified.”

  Sam clasped her hands in her lap. “Poor baby. I’m not sure she’ll ever fully recover from her ordeal.” She closed her eyes as she thought about the three-week murderous rampage Bitsy’s father, Curtis, had gone on the previous summer, traumatizing his daughter and threatening the entire Sweeney family.

  Sam caught sight of a doe-eyed beauty with honey-colored hair in the row opposite them on the groom’s side. Something about the teenager seemed familiar, although Sam was certain she’d never met her before.

  “Do you know her?” Sam asked, dipping her head at the girl across from them.

  Jamie cast a quick glance across the aisle, and then did a double take. “Nope. I’ve never seen her before.”

  “She’s kind of pretty, don’t you think?” Sam nudged him with her elbow.

  Jamie had come home from his freshman year at the University of South Carolina talking nonstop about a raven-haired beauty he’d met in his Psych 101 class. In that good-natured way moms tease their sons, Sam had tried to tempt him with mention of some of the local girls, his past girlfriends, but so far he’d remained steadfast to Sophia.

  “Nice try, Mom,” he whispered. “But I prefer girls who bathe.”

  Sam’s eyes followed her son’s to the ground where the girl’s filthy feet rested in a pair of dollar store rubber flip-flops. On closer inspection, Sam noticed she was wearing denim cutoffs and a red halter top, inappropriate attire no matter how casual the wedding. Her hair was matted and tangled, and her chocolate eyes overpowered her too-thin face.

  “She must be a friend of Faith’s,” Sam said, and Jamie added, “Or one of Mike’s coworkers from the hospital.”

  Mother and son returned their attention to the bride and groom.

  The Methodist minister who had baptized all three Sweeney sisters pronounced the couple husband and wife. Mike kissed Faith on the lips, a kiss that lasted longer than their mother would approve of but brought cheers from the congregation. When the band launched into the recessional music, Mike swooped Bitsy up in his arms and the new family retreated down the aisle and across the lawn toward the house.

  Seated on her left, Sam’s boyfriend of twelve months draped his arm around her shoulder and drew her body close to his. “They look so happy. Aren’t you the least bit tempted to take the plunge?” Eli asked, his breath tickling her ear.

  She gave him a quick peck on the lips. “We’ve been through this a thousand times, Eli. You know where I stand on the issue of marriage. We don’t need a license to validate our feelings for one another.”

  She was growing tired of the argument. Eli was the right man for her. Of that, she had little doubt. Problem was, he wanted to take the next step, and she remained terrified of commitment.

  The crowd was beginning to disperse when the oldest of the Sweeney sisters joined the minister at the altar. Jackie clapped her hands. “If I could have your attention for just a moment, please.”

  Why does she always have to be the center of attention? Sam wondered, and then chastised herself at the sudden resurgence of animosity toward her older sister. Much of her bitterness toward Jackie had dissipated during the past year, and their relationship had grown stronger because of it. She would have to work harder to control her feelings.

  “I’d like to welcome you to Moss Creek Farm.” Jackie opened her arms wide. “The bride and groom will take a few minutes to pose for photographs. In the meantime, please help yourself to refreshments.” She gestured toward the tent.

  As the band transitioned from the traditional recessional music to James Taylor’s “Carolina in My Mind,” the crowd began to gather their belongings and make their way up the hill toward the house.

  Sam’s mother, Lovie, who had been sitting in the row in front of them, turned around to greet them. “I’m sorry we didn’t have a chance to say hello before the ceremony. I was running late, and I noticed you were as well. That was some kind of crazy day we had at the market,” she said, referring to Captain Sweeney’s Seafood, which she
and her husband, Oscar, opened in 1959.

  “Tell me about it. I hope that’s the kind of business we see for the rest of the summer.”

  “I’ve never known Jackie to wear pink, but I must say it suits her,” Lovie said.

  Jackie had always sworn off all shades of pink, but the fuchsia silk wrap dress was testament to her recent change in personality. Her hairstylist had recently cut layers in her shoulder-length dark hair, which softened her angles, making her face look fuller. Less stark. Less harsh.

  Sam leaned over and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Yes it does, Mama, as much as this shade of coral suits you.”

  “Humph, this god-awful suit? Jackie insisted on buying it for me last year when she was convinced I was on my deathbed. Whatever you do, don’t let her bury me in it.”

  “I’ll try to remember that.” Laughing, Sam turned her attention to the man standing beside her mother. “I hope you realize how much of a blessing you are to us, Mack.” She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to the gray bristles on his cheek. “If not for you, she would have shown up in her pajamas,” she said in a low voice her mother couldn’t hear.

  Lovie’s quirky behavior of late had driven many of their close friends to worry about her mental stability. Some thought her a candidate for the funny farm while others feared she was in the early stages of Alzheimer’s, despite the recent battery of tests at MUSC in Charleston that proved otherwise. Regardless of her mental state, the Sweeney sisters were relieved to have Captain Mack Bowman playing an important role in their mother’s life. Although none of them dared to speculate about what that role entailed.

  “Taking care of your mother is my pleasure,” Mack said, giving Lovie’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. He removed a bandana from his coat pocket and mopped his brow. “It’s hot as daylights out here. Is anybody ready for some refreshments?”

  Eli and Mack took drink orders and headed off to the bar, leaving Sam alone with her mother and son. They fell in line behind the throng of wedding attendees and slowly made their way to the tent. They spotted Jackie and her estranged husband, Bill, deep in conversation at the edge of the dance floor near the food tables. From recent conversations with her sister, Sam was under the impression Jackie and Bill were working through their marital problems. But the somber expressions on their faces indicated otherwise.

  Sam kissed the air beside her sister’s cheek. “You’ve done it again, Jackie. This is an amazing party.”

  Lovie wrapped her arm around her oldest daughter’s waist, giving her a quick squeeze. “You should wear pink more often. You look ten years younger.”

  Jackie offered them a stiff smile before returning her attention to whatever, or whoever, was distracting her on the other side of the party.

  “Is something wrong?” Sam followed her sister’s gaze to the food table where the honey-haired beauty from across the aisle was standing with Jackie’s seventeen-year-old sons, Cooper and Sean.

  The boys’ orange hair emphasized their bright personalities. Nearly every girl under the age of twenty in the town of Prospect had a crush on one, if not both, of the identical twins. Until now, Cooper and Sean had been too preoccupied with outdoor activities like fishing and hunting to express much interest in girls, but based on their lazy grins and the glint in their deep blue eyes, they were both smitten with this doe-eyed creature. The twins were too busy competing for the girl’s attention to notice her stuffing her tattered hobo bag with sweet potato ham biscuits.

  “Did someone invite that sea urchin to this party, or did she wash ashore with the high tide?” Jackie asked, her lip curled up in distaste.

  “Jamie and I were wondering about her earlier,” Sam said. “Do you know who she is, Mom?”

  Lovie shook her head no. “But I must say my grandsons look so handsome in their blue blazers and my granddaughter as sweet as a little princess in her crown of daisies.”

  “Never mind about your grandchildren, Mom,” Jackie said. “I’m worried about my party. If someone doesn’t stop that girl from stealing my biscuits, there won’t be any left for the other guests.”

  Lovie poked her finger in Jamie’s ribs. “Go find out who she is. But be sure to come back and fill us in on all the details.”

  Jamie shook his head in amusement as he ventured across the terrace toward the food tables.

  Eli and Mack arrived with their drinks—a cranberry seltzer for Sam and a glass of Chardonnay for Lovie.

  “What’s wrong?” Eli asked when he noticed their frowns.

  “We’re at a wedding, not a funeral,” Mack said, the ever-present stub of a cigar stuffed between his lips. He raised his hands as if to lift everyone’s spirits. “This is supposed to be a happy occasion.”

  Bill inclined his head toward the honey-haired girl. “It appears as though we have a wedding crasher in our midst.”

  “And she’s stealing all the sweet potato biscuits,” Jackie added.

  Eli stiffened. A sergeant on the local police force, his responsibility was to protect the innocent citizens of Prospect. He didn’t take kindly to theft, even if the loot was perishable.

  With rapt attention, they watched the scene unfold. Bitsy tugged on Jamie’s coat sleeve and he knelt down beside her, tucking her hair behind her ear and kissing her forehead. He whispered something in her ear and she awarded him with a smile, showing off her two new permanent front teeth.

  Despite the difference in their ages, Jamie and Bitsy were closer than most siblings. Less than a year ago, Sam’s son had tried to commit suicide after an ATV accident claimed the life of his best friend and left Jamie paralyzed from the waist down. His young cousin was, in part, responsible for him regaining the use of his legs. Jamie, in turn, had comforted Bitsy through the emotional trauma she’d suffered from her father.

  Jamie straightened, and, placing his hands on Bitsy’s shoulders, presented her to the sea urchin. The girl bent down in order to speak to the little girl at eye level. Bitsy took the wedding crasher’s face in her tiny hands, turning her head so she could whisper in her ear. Cupping their hands around their mouths, the girls took turns telling secrets like they were old friends. Never mind that Bitsy hadn’t spoken a word to anyone in nearly a year.

  Two

  Faith

  Faith and Mike stood in the middle of the dance floor, waiting for the band to play music for their first dance as husband and wife.

  “Happy?” Mike asked, smiling at his bride.

  Faith leaned into him. “I didn’t know it was possible to be this happy.” She clasped her hands around his neck and kissed him softly on the lips. “You saved my life, Dr. Neilson.”

  Mike took her in his arms. “You give me too much credit, Mrs. Neilson. All I offered was a shoulder to cry on. Your family did the rest.”

  The band began to play Faith’s favorite song, “Crazy” by Patsy Cline. The country music love ballad brought back memories of watching her parents slow dance in the living room of the tiny house adjacent to Moss Creek Farm where she grew up.

  Faith placed her head on her new husband’s shoulder, thinking of her marriage as a Cinderella story come true. She was now the wife of an emergency room doctor, living in the house of her dreams, when eleven months ago she’d been married to an abusive man, residing in a trailer in the middle of the woods.

  Mike had been the attending physician when Faith sought treatment in the emergency room at Creekside Regional Hospital for the broken bones she’d suffered at the hand of her sadistic husband. Mike had taken a special interest in her. Once Curtis was behind bars, he took her to dinner and their romance began to blossom. In the months since, he’d provided Faith and Bitsy with love and stability.

  The song ended and the band launched into a more upbeat tune. A giant of a black man tapped Mike on the shoulder. “Do you mind if I dance with the bride?”

  Mike reluctantly handed over his new wife. “Only for you, Moses,” he said, slapping the man on the back.

  Known to his friends and
patients as Big Mo, the black titan was the Georgia linebacker turned adolescent shrink currently counseling the majority of the Sweeney family, old and young. With the exception of Lovie who probably needed therapy the most. Sam had recently joked that their family, alone, was responsible for the down payment on Big Mo’s new waterfront condo.

  “You look absolutely radiant tonight,” Moses said as he swung Faith around the dance floor. “You’ve changed a lot from the timid woman I met a year ago. You’ve come a long way, and you deserve this happiness.”

  Faith beamed. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Moses shook his head. “I can only take credit for the guidance. You did all the hard work.”

  Her ex-husband’s reign of terror had ended in a standoff that had taken place less than twenty-five feet from where she was now dancing with Moses. And Curtis, with a long list of convictions including several counts of attempted murder, was now imprisoned at the Broad River Correctional Institution in Columbia, where he would not be eligible for parole until 2040. Although Faith, for the most part, had come to terms with the havoc he had wreaked on her family, her daughter had not bounced back so quickly. The poor child had seemed fine immediately following her father’s arrest, but then woke up from a terrible nightmare and hadn’t spoken a word since.

  During the past school year, Faith and Bitsy had been living in the guest cottage at Moss Creek Farm, helping Bill out with the twins while Jackie sorted through her midlife crisis in Charleston. Moses had assured Faith that she was doing the right thing by marrying Mike and moving into their new house together.

  “Putting your life on hold for your daughter is the absolute wrong thing for both of you,” he’d said. “Sending Bitsy the message that her needs come first could cause irrevocable damage in the long run.”

  While she trusted Moses implicitly, Faith worried she was putting her vulnerable daughter through too many changes at once. A new father and a new home. Moss Creek Farm was the one place Bitsy felt safe, where Cooper and Sean showered her with affection and her Uncle Bill’s even-tempered personality provided a stable presence.