Mona Ingram’s Fallen Angel:

Fallen Angel

by Mona Ingram

3.7 stars – 6 Reviews

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The author hopes you will enjoy this free excerpt:

Chapter One

Laura didn’t need an intervention to know she had problems, which was why she was doubly surprised when she walked into her grandmother’s house and saw all the people who, for whatever reason, still loved her.

Time seemed to stand still. With one hand on the screen door and the other clutching the door frame she contemplated turning around and leaving. At least long enough to down another pill. For one irrational moment she was thankful that she’d showered and washed her hair this morning. As if that meant they’d go easy on her. But she could see from the five determined pairs of eyes that no one here was going to cut her any slack. That’s the way it worked, wasn’t it…on those television shows? Her throat went dry and she looked at her grandmother, who was seated next to her father on the couch.

“Could I get something to drink, please?” She gave a weak smile. “Diet Coke if you have any, Gran.” She started to make her way toward the kitchen but Jenna, her friend since childhood, jumped up. “I’ll get it.”

They’re probably afraid I’ll make a run for it out the back door, she thought to herself. And they may be right. The shock was beginning to wear off, and she took in the two remaining people in the group. Rachel Ellison, the head nurse from St. Mark’s and a woman she didn’t recognize.

The woman stood up and motioned for Laura to sit down in the big chair in the corner. Laura almost giggled; it reminded her of a wedding shower where the bride-to-be was the center of attention.

“My name is Myrna Hyslop. I’m an intervention specialist and I’m here to help your friends and family.”

Jenna came back into the room. Ice cubes clinked in a tall glass and she held a can of coke in the other hand. She placed both items on the table beside Laura and gave her friend a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Love you” she murmured, then went back to the other side of the room and sat down.

Laura poured half of the coke with a trembling hand and took a deep swallow. It tasted great, but what she’d really like is another oxycodone to go with it. She tried to remember when she’d taken the last one, but her memory was fuzzy. She set the glass back down, frowning with concentration. Her memory was deserting her frequently these days, and she didn’t like it.

There were times, like right now, when she couldn’t even remember what had sent her down this path to self-destruction. But then the memories would come flooding back and she’d feel herself falling even deeper…if that was possible…into the black void that was currently her life.

She forced herself to look at the people gathered in her grandmother’s living room. Her father, divorced from her mother for ten years now. Always there for her. It was her father who’d supported her when she announced her decision to become a nurse. He was the best, and she’d been genuinely delighted for him when he told her a few weeks ago that he’d found a woman to share the rest of his life with. She couldn’t remember the woman’s name right now, but her father was happy and that’s all that mattered.

Next to her father was her Gran. As long as she could remember, a stable force in her life and a source of unconditional love. As a child, she’d spent at least two weeks a year here at her grandmother’s house in the Shaughnessy district of Vancouver. Those had been some of the happiest times of her life.

Rachel Ellison. Head Nurse at the hospital, and her supervisor. It was only a little over a month since Laura had fallen at work and broken her arm at work. The cast had come off two days ago and she massaged her arm, trying once more to recall what had precipitated that fall. She hated to admit it, but she couldn’t remember that either. At least she’d done one thing right. She’d stashed away a supply of oxycodone before the accident. The doctor wouldn’t prescribe any pain meds for her after the fall, informing her that a broken arm didn’t warrant anything more than Tylenol, and besides a stronger pain killer could prove addictive. She’d almost laughed out loud at that, but had managed to nod in solemn agreement.

Jenna Harkness. Her closest friend since childhood. They’d grown up together in Quesnel, had done volunteer work at the local hospital, and had shared everything. Even when Laura had gone to Vancouver for her nurses’ training, they’d remained close. Laura had been there when Jenna married Drew, and had rushed to see each of her children only days after their birth. Her friend’s eyes were all shimmery with tears, and she wondered if Jenna was about to tell her that she was no longer godmother to Hayley and Mark. The idea was insupportable, and for the first time she felt real fear.

“…which is why your family and friends are here for you today.” The intervention specialist was speaking but Laura hadn’t heard a word. What was her name again? She turned toward the other woman, hoping that her expression didn’t reveal what she was thinking. That she didn’t belong here. Her family were wonderful to be so caring, but her current state was only temporary. She’d be back up to speed any time now.

She took another drink, playing for time. She’d come to love the sound of ice cubes recently. They signalled good times ahead. She frowned again. They were supposed to be good times, but in recent weeks she’d often wake up in the morning not remembering what had happened after the second drink in her favourite bar. She stared into the bottom of the glass. She’d better cut back on the drinking, or she wouldn’t be in any shape to go back to work.

She looked at the faces around the room and put on a conciliatory smile. “I’ve been drinking too much” she said, nodding as she spoke to let them know she accepted the seriousness of her problem. “And I promise to cut back right away.”

Nobody responded. They didn’t have to; it was clear that they didn’t believe a word of what she said. This was going to be tougher than she thought.

“Okay, you’re right. I won’t just ‘cut back’. I’ll stop drinking completely.” She tried another smile and held up the arm that had been broken, flexing her fingers as she spoke. “I’ll be fit for work soon and I need all my senses for that.” She looked directly at her supervisor, who was looking at her oddly. “Rachel knows what I mean, right?”

The Head Nurse looked at the intervention specialist who nodded, then turned her attention back to Laura. “You’re not coming back to work. I’m sorry, Laura, but I can’t afford to have you back on the floors.” She gave her head a little shake. “I’d planned to talk to you the day you had your accident. In retrospect, I should have realized what was going on, but it never crossed my mind that you had a substance abuse problem. You were skating on thin ice then, but now you’ve gone right over the edge.”

Laura wanted to tell her she was mixing her metaphors, but something held her back. “How can you possibly say that? I haven’t seen you since I got the cast on.” Her tone was getting desperate, but she couldn’t stop herself. “I’m much better now.”

For the first time she saw something like pity in Rachel’s eyes. “Laura, we saw each other a couple of weeks ago, at the staff picnic. You don’t remember?”

“Come on, Rachel. Stop kidding.” She glanced around at the others in the room. They were all looking at her gravely and her world seemed to tilt. She looked back at her supervisor and when she spoke her voice was little more than a whisper. “I don’t remember.”

“You were pretty high when you got there, so I’m not surprised.”

Laura didn’t intend to give up without a fight. “Come on, Rach, everybody has too much to drink once in a while; it’s how we blow off steam. You know that.”

“Your drinking is only part of your problems.  It wasn’t until I discussed the situation with Dr. Rowland that I started to put the pieces together. He told me that you’d been taking oxycodone for a couple of months before you broke your arm.”

“And you believed Stew?” Laura was incensed. “He’s the one who gave it to me in the first place.”

She closed her eyes, dropped her head. She wanted to snatch the words back, but it was too late. Her first instinct was to blame Rachel for tricking her, but that lasted only a second. It wasn’t Rachel’s fault she’d become addicted. It wasn’t even Stew’s fault, much as she’d like to share the blame. She was an RN, for God’s sake; she’d known the consequences of self-medicating with oxycodone long before he suggested that she take one to help her get through the bleak days after Mattie died.

They all spoke after that. Her father, her grandmother, and finally her friend Jenna. Ashamed and resentful at the same time, she heard very little of what they had to say. She knew they loved her and wanted to help her, but what right did they have to interfere in her life? It wasn’t until Jenna spoke of her children that she raised her head and actively listened to her friend.

“I’m not giving up on you, Laura. You’re godmother to my children, and I need you to be in their lives. What if something should happen to Drew and me, God forbid? You promised to take care of them, and I need you to be well. Please say you’ll go.”

Go where? Laura wondered. Either they hadn’t discussed that part, or she hadn’t been listening. But did it matter? Not really. She knew what was in store for her; the location was the least of her concerns.

She knew better than to ask if she could go home. After brief but tearful goodbyes, the Hyslop woman bundled her into a large SUV and pulled out into traffic.

Laura was silent for the first half hour, watching downtown Vancouver slide by outside the window. “Where are we going?” she asked eventually, as they crossed the Lions Gate Bridge.

“Please call me Myrna”, the woman said with a thin smile. “We’re going to Vancouver Island. There’s an excellent rehab center not far from Nanaimo, so we’ll be crossing from Horseshoe Bay.” She seemed remarkably upbeat. “I always enjoy the ferry crossing.”

Laura remained silent for several moments. “What about my apartment?” she asked finally. She hoped it wasn’t too much of a mess.

“Your father’s going to take care of that for you.”

Laura absorbed this information with a silent nod. She twirled a piece of hair around her finger and rubbed it against her lips. It was a gesture she used to make to calm herself when she heard her parents arguing, or when her mother had been particularly vile toward her. She dropped the piece of hair and glanced sideways to see if Myrna had noticed, but the woman was manoeuvring through traffic, approaching Highway 1.

“What about clothes, toothbrush, stuff like that? And who’s paying for all this?” Laura hadn’t meant to sound belligerent, but the words came out that way.

Myrna narrowed her eyes.

She probably thinks I’m a spoiled bitch. Maybe she’s right. She smiled in an attempt to let the other woman know she meant well.

“Your father sent along a suitcase for you. You won’t need a huge wardrobe at Water’s Edge, but he and his new lady friend picked out some nice things for you.”

“You saw what they bought?”

The other woman nodded. “Yes, it’s part of my job. You’ll be checked again when you arrive just to make sure. As for the money, your father and grandmother have paid for that as well.”

“I can afford to pay for it.” Laura didn’t know why she’d said that. Maybe she just needed to assert herself. Everything else seemed to have been decided for her.

“Good. But that’s between you and your father now.”

They fell silent after that. Laura scarcely noticed the sparkling blue of the Pacific as they neared the ferry terminal. She was startled when Myrna spoke as they waited in line to board the ferry.

“I’ve made this trip many times.” She glanced across at Laura. “It never fails to inspire me, knowing that people like you have the strength to turn their lives around.”

Traffic started to move. Ferry staff motioned them forward impatiently and Myrna guided the SUV up the ramp and into the gaping mouth of the ferry.

Laura felt as though she were being swallowed whole. She fought the panic that threatened to engulf her as they drove into the gloom of the parking level. Until now, she hadn’t given serious thought to what lay in store for her. She took several deep, calming breaths. Whatever was coming, it couldn’t be worse than what she’d already been through…could it?

Chapter Two

Bradley Jamieson watched the shaft of sunlight move slowly across the bed. He willed it to stop, but it moved inexorably toward him. Soon it would be in his eyes, he’d be forced to move, and the woman in bed beside him would know he was awake.

She was lovely, no doubt about that. They’d been introduced a couple of weeks ago and he’d been attracted to her, but had been hesitant to ask her out on a date. Finally he’d texted her, and she’d replied almost immediately. Last night had been wonderful; an intimate dinner sitting side by side in a booth at his favourite restaurant, followed by a leisurely walk along the waterfront. He couldn’t recall who had initiated the first kiss, but it had been long and hot; there was no doubt that they both wanted more.

The sex had been fantastic…for both of them. A small smile tilted the corner of his mouth as he recalled the number of times she’d told him what a wonderful lover he was.

She stirred in bed just as the sun hit him in the face. It was pointless to pretend any longer.

“Oh, you’re awake” she said, propping her head on a hand and looking down at him with a smile. “Did you sleep well?”

He nodded. He’d had a rare night free of nightmares. That in itself was worth celebrating. He swung his feet over the side of the bed and rubbed at the stubble on his cheeks. The woman…what was her name…ah yes, Alexa…scooted across the bed and was snuggling up behind him, pressing her breasts into his back.

“What are you going to do today?” She asked, fingers tiptoeing across his abdomen and heading south.

He grabbed her hand to halt its progress and brought it to his lips. He must be mad not to want more sex, but the price was too high. He knew what would happen afterward; she’d want to talk. They all wanted to talk, and it was more than he could take. They wanted to pry into his private life, to find out why he couldn’t talk, and each one in her own unique way wanted to “fix” him.

He kissed her hand again and tenderly touched her cheek, trying to soften the refusal. He liked her, he really did. She was gorgeous to look at, and intelligent, but he didn’t want to talk and she did. In that respect, she was no different from the others.

He grabbed his BlackBerry. Leaving town today, he typed and showed it to her. Sorry he added, had great time last night. He didn’t have to tell her that he’d only just decided to take his friend up on his offer of a bed for the summer–in exchange for working in the vineyards.

She gave him a sad smile. “You’re not going to call me again, are you?” It was more of a statement than a question.

He smiled back, and shook his head. It was one thing he’d learned a long time ago: don’t complicate your life with lies.

“I thought not.” She kissed him lightly on the lips. “You’re a nice guy, Bradley Jamieson. If you come back to town and change your mind, I’d love to hear from you.”

And with that, she slipped into her clothes and was gone. Bradley stared at the closed door for several long minutes after she’d left and wondered if his life would ever get back to normal.

* * *

It didn’t take long for Bradley to get organized and on the road. He’d texted Matt at the winery and been assured that he was still welcome. He’d laughed at the next line: ‘Will that old beast make the trip?’

The Norton was Bradley’s favourite means of transportation. There was something freeing about being on the bike, and it had been thoroughly serviced over several weeks the previous month; Bradley trusted it to make the trip.

It was noon by the time he set out from Comox. He planned to cross the ferry at Nanaimo and drive into the Fraser Valley tonight. Motels were plentiful in the area; hopefully he’d have a good sleep and make it to the Okanagan around noon the next day.

As he crossed the bridge from the Comox side of town to Courtenay, the Snowbirds, Canada’s aerobatic team, streaked across the sky, practicing one of their manoeuvres. The Tutors were small compared to the F-18s that Bradley had flown in Afghanistan, but he still stopped to look every time he heard a jet engine. He paused by the side of the road to watch them, marvelling at the precision flying. The aircraft dispersed and he gunned the motor, sliding smoothly into traffic. It was times like this that he felt guilty. Trained at great expense to be a fighter pilot, he was useless now. Okay, so he wasn’t to blame, but that knowledge didn’t help in the dark of the night, when he woke up to the horror of his memories, knowing that in his dream he’d been trying to scream, but unable to make a sound.

He rolled onto the five o’clock ferry with the other bikers, sent to their usual spot at the front. ‘First on, first off’ was their mantra. It was all part of the freedom of traveling by bike. He made his way to the deck, claiming a spot on one of the lifejacket storage containers. Here, with his back resting against the hull of the ship, he could watch not only the departure, but the eclectic mix of tourists that flocked to Vancouver Island every year. Virtually every European language was represented today, along with the ever-present, much-travelled Aussies and Asians. He sat back and closed his eyes, soaking up the sun. He hadn’t bothered to shave before leaving home, and he counted on his appearance to fend off anyone who would otherwise want to talk.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” He couldn’t quite place the accent. He opened one eye and shook his head. Her shoes identified her as European. There was something about their footwear that gave them away every time. That and the accent, of course. If he had to guess, he’d say she was Dutch. He made a broad gesture, indicating that she should make herself comfortable, and closed his eyes again. She pushed her backpack against the bulkhead, then sat back, resting against it. Her scent invaded his nostrils; it was something fresh, light and decidedly feminine.

Don’t even think about it, he told himself.

She raised a hand in greeting and a young man came and sat beside her. Bradley smiled to himself; he didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved.

* * *

Bradley Jamieson was one of those rare men who really loved women. At least the ones he’d been involved with told him he was a rarity, and judging by comments from the men he’d served with, they were right. The couple beside him were chattering away in a language he didn’t recognize, and he relaxed, thinking back to his younger days.

He’d grown up in Comox, home to Canadian Forces Base Comox. It was inevitable, he supposed, his desire to become a pilot. He knew every aircraft type that flew in and out of CFB Comox – American as well as Canadian. But even back then, he’d known that you just didn’t walk through the gates and sign up. As a matter of fact, you were lucky if they even considered you, and a degree or two always helped.

And so in the summer holidays, while his friends went fishing or chased girls, he worked at every job he could find, saving money for his education. The grocery store paid the best; he made himself available for work any time they called, but it wasn’t enough. In between, he mowed lawns and did yard clean-up.

It was a hot summer day when he first noticed her…really noticed her.

“Bradley” she called from behind the screen door. “Could you help me with something?”

He looked up, trying to recall her name. Oh yes, it was Mrs. Fraser. Her husband worked at the base, and according to her, had little time to spare for yard work. He’d noticed her several times that day; she seemed to be watching him through the kitchen window. He hoped she was happy with his work.

He wiped the sweat from his brow as he walked up the back steps. She opened the screen door and stood there, almost as if she were posing. She had on some sort of a top that tied under her breasts, leaving her midriff bare, and incredibly short shorts for an older woman. At least she seemed older to him. He tried not to look at her, but she had an amazing body and she wasn’t shy about showing it.

“What is it?” he said, looking around.

She walked across the kitchen and he noticed that she was wearing what the school girls called ‘wedgies’ on her feet. They made her legs go on forever. He swallowed painfully.

She bent over as if to lift a cardboard box from the floor. “This box is too heavy.” He could see the crease of skin where her legs joined her buttocks and got an instant erection.

She straightened up and turned back to him. “I was hoping to move this out to the storage shed, but it’s just too heavy.” Her gaze dropped to the level of his crotch and her lips parted. “Would you do it for me?”

“Sure.” He didn’t know how he got the word out; his tongue felt thick and clumsy in his throat. She stood back a bit and he picked up the box. “The storage shed,” he said, trying not to look at her cleavage.

“Yes, and then come back in. I’ve made some lemonade.”

He practically ran to the shed and shoved the box into the first spot he could find. It was all he could do not to race up the steps when he got back to the house.

“So,” she said, handing him a glass of lemonade. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He swallowed half the glass in one gulp. He wasn’t quite sure where this conversation was going. “Sort of,” he said, wondering if she could tell he was stretching the truth.

“Aha.” She took a small sip from her glass, eyeing him over the rim. “And what do you do for fun?”

“I, ah, well, we…” How could he explain the fumbling and groping in the back seat of his friend’s car?

“Do you have sex?” She came closer. There was a musky smell about her. It was unfamiliar but oddly arousing. “I mean, I hear about young people these days and it all sounds so different from when I was your age.” She placed her glass on the counter then took his and placed it beside hers. She was so close to him now that her breasts were almost brushing against his chest. At least when she was this close she couldn’t see that he was hard again.

Or maybe she could. She ran a finger over his lips and his mouth dropped open. She slid the finger inside his mouth and then withdrew it, putting it in her own mouth. He was afraid that he was going to come right there, in her kitchen. That would be mortifying and he closed his eyes, trying to regain control.

She touched his face again with her fingertips, tracing the line of his jaw, then down his neck, resting her hand against his chest. she tweaked his nipple, and he groaned aloud.

“You’re really a very handsome young man,” she said. Her voice had changed. It was husky, and when he dared to look into her eyes they had darkened. She slid a hand lower and cupped his erection. “Would you like to make love to me?” she asked, running her hand up and down the length of him.

He could only nod.

“Then come with me,” she said, and walked up the half flight of stairs in the split-level home.

He followed her into a cool, dark bedroom. “What about your husband?” he croaked. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything, but he didn’t relish being beat up by an irate husband.

“He’s out of town on deployment,” she murmured, stepping out of her shorts. Her halter top followed and she stood before him in nothing but a lacy white thong. His fingers itched to touch her but he sensed that she was enjoying revealing herself to him. With a slow, tantalizing motion she slid the thong down until she stood in front of him, completely naked. Her pubic hair had been trimmed and he stared at it. He’d never seen anything like that before, not that he had much experience with naked women.

“Know what I was doing this morning while you were working outside?” She lay back on the bed, watching him undress.

He could care less what she’d been doing. All he could think about was what was being offered and he wanted to get it before she changed her mind. He fumbled with the zipper on his jeans.

“I was watching you and wondering what it would be like to have sex with you.”

He tore off his shorts and his erection sprang free.

“Oh, come to mama,” she said, reaching for him. “I don’t imagine you want to wait any longer, do you?”

He thrust into her. Once, twice, and then he exploded like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He lay there for a few moments, catching his breath, and then raised his head. “I’m sorry” he said, and meant it. “That wasn’t much good for you, was it?”

She smiled. “No, but you show great promise. Next time will be better.” She rolled out from under him and took his hand, guiding it to her innermost recesses. “In the meantime I’ll show you a sure fire way to please a woman.”

And she did. That afternoon and many more throughout that magical summer. She was an inventive teacher and he was an eager student. By the time school started again and her husband had returned from his posting, Bradley had acquired more sexual experience than most men gain in a lifetime.

* * *

The ferry shuddered as it moved away from the dock. Bradley opened his eyes, disoriented for a moment. Then he remembered where he was. He supposed he should go and get in line for some food. He didn’t mind the wait; it was something to do during the crossing. Besides, he needed some energy and his wits about him for the hectic pace of traffic on the mainland.

Chapter Three

Laura had been to Vancouver Island several times before. Most recently with Stew, a man she’d thought she might get serious about. They’d gone to Long Beach on the west coast of the island for a long weekend. Back before her world had fallen apart.

Everything looked different today as they pulled into Nanaimo. Even though it was sunny, the island appeared to hunker down, as though something bad were about to happen. Laura gave a small shudder and pulled her jacket more closely around her shoulders.

“Are you all right?” Myrna’s tone was kind. Laura knew that the other woman was watching her carefully for the first signs of withdrawal.

“I’m okay,” she replied, forcing herself to stay calm. She was starting to feel restless, but was determined not to show it. As if her actions mattered now. But for some reason, they did. She wanted to hold it together at least until she got to the rehab facility.

“What’s the name of the place we’re going?” she asked.

“Water’s Edge.”

“Sounds like a resort, or a golf course or something.”

Myrna smiled. “It does, doesn’t it?” They were on the highway now, and she was signalling a move into an exit lane. “You’ll hate it for the first few days of course, but I’m sure you’re expecting that.”

Laura twirled a piece of hair around her finger. “I wonder if I’ll ever get my job back.” She looked at the other woman. “I love nursing, especially paediatrics.”

Myrna shot her a sympathetic look. “Rachel said you were a terrific nurse. She cared enough about your future to contact your family and initiate the intervention.”

Laura stared out the window. “I was a terrific nurse. Past tense.” She was silent for a few moments. “But I only have myself to blame if they never take me back.”

“If it comes to that, there are lots of other things you can do with your skills.”

“I suppose so, but it won’t be the same.” For the first time today, tears came to her eyes. “It’ll never be the same.”

* * *

Laura’s childhood had been like no one else’s. That is, no one she knew. She’d been born beautiful; at least that’s what her mother told her…constantly. She was born and grew up in Quesnel, where her father owned a dealership that sold heavy equipment. Unlike her friends, who viewed their parents as infallible and rock solid, Laura recognized at an early age that her parents didn’t belong together. Her mother complained about living “in the sticks” and bemoaned the lack of what she termed “culture” and a “social life”.

Her parents were constantly at war over how she should be brought up. “It’s not ladylike,” he mother shouted, when shortly after her twelfth birthday Laura announced she’d been riding with Jenna and helping out at the stables.

Her father, as usual, was on her side. “For God’s sake Carolyn, the Queen rides a horse. What do you expect the child to do?”

“Have you looked at your daughter recently?” Her mother stabbed him in the chest with a finger. “Really looked at her? She’s a beautiful child, Hugh, and she could have an amazing career ahead of her as a model.”

Laura cringed. Why did her mother always have to focus on her looks? She’d examined herself in the mirror, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

The arguments raged on, but her father stood his ground. It wasn’t until Laura heard the dreaded word ‘divorce’ that she decided to take matters into her own hands.

She found her father on the sales lot, in the cab of a backhoe with a prospective buyer. He broke into a smile at the sight of her. “Hi, Sweetheart. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

Laura waited in his office, reading a book she’d taken out of the library that afternoon.

“This is a surprise,” her father said, filling the room with his presence. He looked at her carefully. “Is anything wrong?”

“No.” Laura used one of her father’s business cards for a bookmark and returned the book to her backpack. “Dad, I’ve been thinking. I could try this modeling thing. Especially if it would make Mom happy.”

Her father’s eyes narrowed and he was silent for a few moments. She sensed that he was struggling to formulate a reply. “Laura, I understand what you’re trying to do, but I’m not sure that anything would make your mother happy at this point in her life.”

She recognized the truth in what he said, but she had to try. She loved her mother…perhaps not as much as she loved her father, but if they divorced over this, she’d blame herself for not trying harder.

“No, really Dad. I want to try it.” She gave him what she hoped was a convincing smile. “Summer’s coming up so it wouldn’t take time away from school. It could be fun.”

He looked at her long and hard. “If that’s what you want, it’s okay with me. But you have to promise me one thing. If it ever stops being fun, or if you feel you’re not being treated well, you stop. I’ll back you up one hundred percent. No questions asked.”

The change in her mother was remarkable. She planned her assault on the agencies in Vancouver like a general mapping out a campaign. It seemed that there wasn’t a thing about her daughter that couldn’t be improved by a visit to a salon. “Only the best, mind you,” she said. “I know the perfect place in Vancouver. We couldn’t possibly trust your hair or brows to the local people.”

Laura tried not to notice the triumph in her mother’s voice when she announced that “her daughter” wanted to try modeling. After all, the constant bickering between her parents had died down. That was progress, wasn’t it?

Her mother put Laura on a strict diet. “It’s only for a couple of weeks, child. You need to lose ten pounds before Kristof photographs you.”

“But Mom, I’m not fat.” Laura was sitting on her bed.

“No, of course not, but the camera has a way of making a person look heavier.” Her mother glanced at herself in the full-length mirror on the wall and frowned. “Trust me.”

Her father drove them to Vancouver and saw them settled with Gran. “You remember what I said,” he reminded her, giving her a hug before he left. “Call me anytime you want to come home.”

And so it started. Laura had to admit that it was fun; being pampered, being photographed, the endless shopping.

“How do you know so much about this?” she asked her mother. They were sitting on the outdoor patio of a downtown hotel. Laura smiled up at their server and waved away the offer of dessert.

“I dabbled in modeling when I was younger.” Her mother sat up a little straighter and Laura saw her through new eyes. Her mother must have been very attractive when she was younger.

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yes, well, it didn’t go very far.” Her smile was brittle. “I wasn’t the type they were looking for, evidently.” She gazed off into the distance for a moment, then returned her attention to her daughter. “But you’re different.” She tapped the portfolio that rested against her chair. “The camera loves you, as they say. We should see some good results next week.”

Her mother was right. Of the three agencies they visited that week, they had two immediate call-backs, resulting in two offers of representation.

“Daddy,” cried Laura over the phone. “An agency wants to represent me. They have a major client who’s launching a new line and they want me to be their new face.”

Her father laughed. “You sound like a pro already.”

“Yeah, well I don’t know about that. The contract is humongous.”

“You haven’t signed it yet, have you?”

“No, Mom’s reading it over before I sign it. She has to sign it too.”

“I want you to fax me a copy right away.” Her father’s tone had changed. “Your mom has done well to get you this far Sweetie, but contracts are serious business, and at this point we need the advice of someone who doesn’t have so much invested in this.”

She didn’t quite understand what her father meant, but when she told her mother, she went ballistic.

“No!” she cried. “Absolutely not! Who does he think he is, trying to control your career when he’s done nothing to encourage you?”

Laura opened her mouth to set her mother straight, and then thought better of it. “He’s not trying to control my career, Mom. He just wants his lawyer to read the contract.”

“No.” Her mother spit out the word.

“Then I guess I can’t sign it.” She was quaking inside, but she held her mother’s gaze. “I promised.”

Carolyn MacLeod glared at her daughter. There was malice in that glare, and Laura realized in that moment that she’d done nothing to help her parents’ marriage. As a matter of fact, this latest development might just tear it apart. But she had a lot invested in this modeling venture, and she wanted to see it through.

“All right.” Her mother tossed the contract on the table and glanced across the room toward the computer. “You know how all this computer stuff works. Can you send a fax on that machine?”

“Yes, or I can scan it and send it as an attachment.”

“Whatever.” Her mother started to leave the room but paused at the door and turned back. “I’m doing this for you, you know. I hope you appreciate that.”

Laura knew better but she smiled. “I know, Mom and I do appreciate it. I really do.”

* * *

Laura became the face of a hot new designer and over the next two years appeared in print and television ads for every one of his wildly successful products. Her father had ensured that all of her earnings were deposited in a bank account in her name. Her mother was predictably furious, but she was bathing in the reflected glow of her daughter’s success and didn’t raise much of a fuss.

* * *

After an exhausting photo shoot for a magazine spread Laura couldn’t wait to get home. “I’ve missed you.” Jenna gave her a big hug, then held her at arm’s length. “You look so different in those magazines. Sometimes I think I don’t know you anymore.”

“Don’t be silly.” Laura heard a horse nickering and looked toward the barn. “Is that Ciero? How’s she doing?” Jenna’s horse had been heavily pregnant the last time she saw her.

“She had the most beautiful little foal just two days ago. I’ve been waiting till you see her so we can name her together.”

The girls ran to the stall where Ciero greeted them cautiously, maintaining a position between her foal and the two girls.

“She’s beautiful,” sighed Laura, tears pooling inexplicably in her eyes. “I’d forgotten how I love the sight of a new foal.”

Jenna’s eyebrows drew together. “Why are you crying?”

Laura brushed away the tears. “I’m not crying.” She attempted to smile. “Not really.”

They wandered out into the sunlight.

“It’s just that I miss all this.” She made a broad gesture, encompassing the ranch and the green hills that rose in the distance. “I miss home.” She glanced sideways at her friend. “Running back and forth to Vancouver was fun at first, but it’s getting to be a real drag. I’m not sure how much longer I want to do it. I guess seeing the new foal reminded me that there’s a lot more to life than posing in front of a camera.”

They leaned their arms against a rail, watching the horses in the paddock. “My contract comes up for renewal in a couple of months and my mom has already negotiated terms for another year. She didn’t even ask me. I’m supposed to sign by the end of the week.”

“Huh.” Jenna didn’t know what else to say.

“My Dad says I can quit any time I want.” She looked at her friend. “Remember a couple of years ago when we tried to volunteer at the hospital?”

Jenna grinned. “Yeah, they said we were too young.”

“Well, that’s what I’d really like to do. I want to be able to play on the basketball team, and volunteer at the hospital. Who knows, I might even get a boyfriend.”

“As long as it’s not Drew.”

“As if.” Laura nudged her friend. “So you guys are serious?”

A dreamy expression came over Jenna’s face. “Oh yeah. Don’t laugh, but I’ve already decided. I want to marry him.”

For the briefest moment Laura was jealous. “You know something? I think you will.” She gave her friend a hug. “I think I’ll go home and tell Mom what I’ve decided.”

* * *

Laura experienced the full force of her mother’s wrath. In the space of minutes, she went from being the golden girl to ‘an unappreciative slut’. When her father came home from work her mother turned on him, accusing him of sabotaging all of her hard work.

The tirade went on for days until Laura could stand it no longer. She reluctantly confided in her father, who immediately whisked her off to Vancouver for a quiet stay with her grandmother. By the time she returned home, her mother had moved out. She never returned, and two years later, Carolyn and Hugh MacLeod were divorced.

Laura didn’t spend a penny of the money she earned. Her father gave her an allowance all through high school. Once a year they’d have what he called a ‘board meeting’ where he’d take her out to dinner and they’d discuss the investments he’d made on her behalf. The totals grew every year, thanks to her father’s prudence, but the amounts were so large they didn’t seem real. She was a wealthy young woman.

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