Anchored in hope, p.1

Anchored in Hope, page 1

 part  #1 of  Echoes of Camano Island Series

 

Anchored in Hope
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Anchored in Hope


  Anchored in Hope

  Echoes of Camano Island

  Kimberly Thomas

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Copyright © 2025 by Kimberly Thomas

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. Kimberly Thomas holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Next in Series

  Other Books by Kimberly

  Connect with Kimberly Thomas

  Prologue

  “I am so sorry for your loss, dear. Your mother was a phenomenal woman. The members of the bridge club miss her dearly.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Lee. It means a lot that you came,” Lacy's voice emerged in a soft murmur, gratitude lacing each syllable. Her face was a mask of perfected grace as her lips curved upward in response to the older woman's touch. The weight of her hand on Lacy's arm was another attempt at offering comfort amidst the sea of condolences and mournful whispers.

  As the woman walked away, Lacy looked ahead at the line of cars pulling up and people exiting them, as they made their way up to the house to express their condolences. She inadvertently pulled in a sharp breath as she braced herself. All she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and cry herself to sleep, but it wasn’t possible at the moment. At her mother’s repast, she had to play the role of a perfect hostess, smiling while wanting to cry, returning words of gratitude when all she wanted to do was scream.

  Feeling a presence beside her, she lifted her head to see her husband standing there, and automatically, a smile lifted her lips.

  “Hey.” Carlos smiled tenderly as his hand came up to rub her back lovingly. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m…trying,” she softly confessed.

  Carlos tilted his head in a subtle nod, his hazel eyes tracing hers as they flickered with compassionate understanding. “I’m here for you. We’ll get through this…together,” he said, repeating the words he had spoken so often to her ever since the moment they found out about her mother’s stomach cancer.

  “I know, sweetie.” She smiled gratefully before Carlos’s lips tenderly covered hers. Warmth spread through her at the tender gesture. At that moment, she could not have loved and appreciated her husband more than she did.

  “Where are the children?” she asked, looking behind her into the hall.

  “They’re in the kitchen with Mom. David is eating a snack, and she’s making a bottle for Maria,” he informed her.

  “Okay,” Lacy breathed out in relief.

  “Lacy.”

  Lacy turned to the woman standing before her with a sympathetic look on her face and glistening brown eyes. “Hi, Jean. I’m glad you could make it.” She smiled appreciatively as she fell into the woman’s hug.

  “Martha was like a mother to me. There’s no way I would have missed paying my respects,” Jean murmured against her cheek. “How are you holding up?” she asked when they separated.

  “Honestly, I’m feeling a mix of emotions right now—mostly denial that she’s gone—but I’m grateful for the support from everyone, especially my husband,” she answered and looked up at Carlos. He returned her smile.

  “Hi.” Jean’s voice broke through their moment, causing the pair to turn toward her once more. She held her hand out in greeting.

  “Hello,” Carlos replied, extending his hand to grasp hers with a friendly smile.

  “Jean, this is my husband, Carlos,” Lacy introduced them. “Jean and I grew up back in San Antonio before Mom moved us here to Santa Monica,” she further explained.

  “It’s always nice to meet a friend of Lacy’s.” Carlos nodded.

  Jean gave a tight lipped tiny smile before she and Lacy exchanged a glance with each other. It had been years since the two had spoken, and it would have probably continued if Lacy’s mom hadn’t died.

  “I brought a casserole,” Jean said before the pause became awkward.

  “That’s very thoughtful. Thank you.” Lacy smiled.

  “I just need to take it out of the car,” Jean informed her.

  Lacy nodded. “You can put it in the kitchen.”

  “Okay,” Jean replied, turning to head to her car. She abruptly turned to face Lacy again. “I hope we can get some time to catch up.” Her voice held hope.

  “Okay,” Lacy replied with a slight upturn of her lips.

  “What’s the story with her?” Carlos asked as soon as the woman was out of earshot.

  Lacy stared at Jean’s retreating back before responding. “Mom was her nanny for ten years,” Lacy revealed. “We were very close all through elementary, but when we got to high school, our friendship changed,” she continued with a slump of her shoulders as her mind flashed to the event that ended their close friendship.

  “Friendships can be restored,” Carlos said encouragingly, rubbing her arm.

  Jean walked up just then with the casserole. “I’ll just head inside now,” she said sheepishly.

  Lacy nodded and watched her walk down the hall toward the kitchen. “I guess they can.” Her voice was laced with a hint of hesitancy.

  “Lacy, dear.” She turned just then to receive a hug from another of her mother’s old bridge partners.

  “Hi, Alice,” she greeted.

  The rest of the time went by in a blur, and as the last guest filed out of the house, Lacy sighed. Her shoulders had been stiff all day, deflated.

  “Mom?”

  “Yes, sweetheart?” Lacy returned, staring down at her seven-year-old son.

  His innocent hazel eyes, so much like his father’s, stared up at her with unasked questions. “Is Heaven real?”

  Lacy sucked in a surprised breath. “Of course, it is real, sweetheart,” she answered with a smile of reassurance.

  “How do you know that Grandma is there?” David pressed, his voice filled with anguish.

  “Well, Grandma lived her life loving people and being selfless. There’s always a place up there for people like her.”

  “But what if that wasn’t enough?” David pushed.

  “I believe wherever she is, she’s…happy and free from pain,” Lacy answered, willing her lips to lift into a smile of reassurance. She wished he never had to think about questions like these at a young age and there was some way she could shield him from it all.

  “I wish she didn’t have to go. I…I miss her.”

  “I know you do. I do too.” Lacy wiped the tears running down her son’s cheek as she fought to keep her own tears at bay. “But she is in a better place now. Get some sleep; we can talk more about this in the morning.” She leaned over him and planted a gentle kiss against his cheek before rising from the chair by his bedside and heading for the door.

  “Mom?”

  Lacy turned to her son.

  “I love you,” David called out.

  “I love you too.” Lacy smiled, then turned and exited the room. Her back slumped against his door as the tears she’d kept in all day burst through the barrier and cascaded down her face. She bit her lip to contain a sob as her heart ached.

  “Hey,” Carlos’s tender voice startled her. Without hesitation, she flew into his waiting arms, the warmth from his body heating her. “Everything will be okay.” He ran his hand over her hair soothingly as her tears soaked his shirt.

  When her sobs had subsided, Carlos led her down the hall toward their room and helped her prepare for bed. “Maria’s sleeping in the guest room with Mom,” he informed her before she asked. Lacy nodded before getting under the covers he had pulled back for her. He got in on the other side before bundling her into his arms.

  Lacy held tightly to the arm across her chest as she stared at the wall. A few minutes later, Carlos’s rhythmic breathing against her neck told her he had fallen asleep, but she couldn’t.

  Her mind kept replaying her mother’s last instructions to her before she had taken a turn for the worse. Her mother's frail yet resolute voice echoed in her head, "Read the letter, my love, after I'm gone."

  She had been too wrought with grief then to heed her mother's last wish. But tonight, the silence was stifling, the void too vast. Slipping out from under Carlos’s arm and out of the comfort of their bed, she walked to the closet, removed the small box where she kept her memorabilia, and took out the envelope. She then made her way to the bathroom and gently closed the door, not wanting to wake her husband.

  Seated on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, her hands trembled as she opened the envelope and unfolded the neatly creased paper.

&n bsp; My dear Lacy…

  The familiarity of those words brought both comfort and a pang of sorrow, reminding her that her mother's voice would forever be captured within the confines of this letter.

  I am so sorry I had to leave you like this. But I am comforted to know your life is full of love and the support of Carlos and my beautiful grandbabies. If it were any different, I would not have been able to go. I have lived my life, and I have had many regrets. But you, my sweet, sweet girl, you are the greatest joy of my life…

  Lacy’s tears left wet splotches on the paper as her mother’s words resonated.

  I wanted to shield you from all the ugliness of this world, but I was selfish because, in doing so, I held back a part of who you are. It is only fair I explain what happened so many years ago. I met a young man I thought would change my life forever; only then I did not know how…

  As she read, memories flooded her mind, vivid images from her childhood etched in her consciousness. And there it was, amidst the swirling tapestry of recollections, a snapshot of a moment she had played over in her mind on countless occasions. Lacy, a wide-eyed five-year-old, stood in the living room doorway, a silent witness to a tumultuous exchange that would shape her life in ways she could not comprehend.

  In her memory, her mother and a man she did not know were engaged in a heated argument. The man's face contorted with anger; his voice laced with bitterness.

  “I told you not to have the child,” he spat, his words cutting through the air like shards of ice. “I won't be a part of this, and I don't want you interfering with my life.”

  But her mother, strong-willed and resolute, stood her ground. “Our child is a blessing,” she insisted, her voice trembling with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability. “I will do whatever it takes to give her a good life.”

  “Well, that’s on you. Have a good life, Martha.”

  “We will have a good life without you,” her mother spat back.

  The man walked away from the clash, but his steps faltered as his blue gaze fell upon young Lacy. His eyes locked with her for a fleeting moment, and his sharp features relaxed as he stared at her in wonder. But just as quickly, it disappeared, and his lips set in a harsh line as his eyes narrowed. He stared over his shoulder at her mother before he turned and walked past Lacy, vanishing from their lives.

  Confusion and curiosity overwhelmed Lacy, her young voice breaking the tense silence. "Who was that, Mommy?" she asked, her innocence seeking answers.

  Her mother, her face etched with sadness and regret, mustered a weak smile. "Oh, sweetheart, that was no one important," she replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of protectiveness and sorrow.

  As Lacy's eyes continued to scan the pages of the letter, her tears mingled with the inked words, blurring the lines that etched her mother's thoughts. She had always sensed the truth, the unspoken secret woven into the fabric of her existence, but had been too afraid to ask her mother about it—too afraid to upset her. And now, in her mother's final words, the truth was laid bare before her.

  As she reached the end of the letter, her mother's voice echoed in her mind, reaffirming what she had already known deep within her soul. The man who had argued with her mother all those years ago was, indeed, her father.

  Your father’s name was Stuart Murphy.

  Chapter One

  Lacy

  “All right, guys, it’s time to go!” Lacy shouted down the hall, her voice echoing in the emptiness of her Santa Monica home. The rooms that once held laughter and warmth now felt cold and hollow. She took a deep breath, her heart heavy with mixed emotions as she prepared to embark on a new chapter in her family’s life.

  Outside, the sun cast a golden hue on the neatly trimmed lawn where the moving truck sat, a stark reminder of the imminent departure. Boxes were neatly stacked, waiting to be transported to their new home on Camano Island. Lacy glanced at the piles of belongings, a tangible representation of the life they were leaving behind.

  The clicking sound against the wooden floors caught her attention, and she turned her head to see her seventeen-year-old son dragging his suitcase behind him, his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched, revealing the simmering anger that consumed him. Her eleven-year-old followed closely behind him with her own suitcase, her eyes following her footsteps.

  “I can’t believe you’re making us do this,” David muttered, his voice tinged with anger.

  Lacy released a steadying breath. “I know this is hard for you, David,” she said softly, her voice tinged with understanding. “But we don’t have another option. What we do have is a chance to start fresh. Camano Island will be different, but maybe it's what we need right now.”

  David's eyes bored into his mother's, a mixture of resentment and sadness swirling within them. “My friends are here. My life is here,” he emphasized with his index finger pointing downward in defiance.

  “David,” Lacy breathed out, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We can’t stay here.”

  “Fine. I’ll go stay with Shane. His parents don’t have a problem with me staying with them,” he reasoned.

  “That is not an option,” Lacy refused.

  “Why not? This was supposed to be my breakout year to score a swimming scholarship. I won’t have a chance if I have to move to Camano Island,” David countered.

  “You’re not staying in Santa Monica, and that is final,” Lacy returned, her voice rising. Realizing her frustration was getting the better of her. She drew in a deep breath before slowly releasing it. She reached out to gently rest her hand on his shoulder. “I know it’s difficult, honey, but this is our best option. Plus, the high school in Camano Island has a good swim team; based on what I’ve heard, I’m sure we’ll be able to get you on it.

  Anger clouded David’s expression. “I didn’t ask for any of this,” he seethed before stomping away. Lacy watched helplessly as he opened the front door and stepped through it before slamming it. She turned then to see Maria quietly watching her with wide, alert eyes. The corners of her mouth turned downward in a subtle frown that revealed their unease.

  “What do you think?” Lacy asked.

  Maria simply shrugged her shoulders as her lips turned up slightly. Lacy’s own lips twitched downward as she stared at her once vibrant daughter, who had become an introvert the last two years of her father’s death. Her silence served as a shield against the pain that had engulfed their lives. Lacy's heart ached for her daughter.

  Walking over to Maria, Lacy placed a hand on her shoulder in reassurance as she spoke, “I know it’s hard on you too. But we’re in this together. We’ll find happiness again. I promise.”

  Maria nodded, her voice barely audible. “Okay, Mom.” With renewed determination and the faintest glimmer of optimism, Lacy led her daughter out of the house, their suitcases trailing behind them.

  Lacy loaded the suitcases into the car, making sure they were secure for the long journey ahead. As she closed the trunk, she took a final look at their now-empty house, bidding a bittersweet farewell to the memories they had shared within its walls.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned to her children, her voice filled with determination. “Let’s go.” Without a word, David pulled on his shades and got into the back seat. Maria got in after him.

  Lacy got into the driver’s seat, slowly the car pulled away from the curb and away from the house she had spent the last eighteen years in. Her heart weighed heavy as she steered the car along the seemingly endless road, the miles stretching out before her like an uncharted territory. The California sun blazed high in the sky, casting a golden hue over the landscape. The road snaked through rolling hills, adorned with swaying grasses and occasional clusters of wildflowers that painted the countryside with bursts of vibrant colors.

 

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