Kasai Freer may be a young woman but she is wise beyond her years, not by choice but by necessity. Life has not always been kind to her. She’s been on her guard since she took her first steps.

Judith Johnson of White Bear Lake is a mostly happy but lonely widow of the much-beloved town physician. Although the tight-knit community does their best to reach out to her she longs for something more. She just doesn’t know what it is.

Kasai is on the run from Jimmy, her abuser. Between her latest eviction notice and her broken-down Honda Kasai is out of options. Desperate and homeless she layers up and starts walking.

Jack Sanders is fresh out of law school and back in town out of familial duty. Despite his mother’s wishes for him to find a high society wife, he’s always been a champion for the underdog and has a nose for a little trouble. He’s also Judith’s good friend, another pet peeve of his mother’s, but he has to draw the line somewhere.

When a frost-bitten Kasai shows up on Judith’s Welcome mat with Judith’s purse, Judith invites the quiet stranger in. Can a two-story house, two Bernedoodles and a handsome lawyer heal two broken hearts? Life’s about to get very interesting in White Bear Lake.

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Release Date: September 3, 2024
Genre: Contemporary Romance

A White Satin Romance

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Excerpt

Chapter One

I crawl out of my sorry excuse for a bed, smack my alarm on the way to the bathroom, and take an ice-cold cold shower in the middle of a Minnesota winter, which happens to be the second week of January. Another eviction notice slips beneath the door. I wonder if this will be the last just like the six pieces of 8x10 paper that came before it. I don’t understand how I overstayed my welcome. There’s no one here for my existence to annoy.

The flower-covered walls surround me in my white bra and panties while I yank up the long underwear followed by a flannel shirt and my favorite pair of mahogany-colored corduroy bibs. One thing I’ve discovered about living in Minnesota is that layers are necessary for survival. Layers are something I understand—surviving, not so much. Two pairs of socks slip on, followed by a pair of weathered Timberlands. I drag a brush through my snarly dark hair, the one thing I can’t let go of despite the fact it ensnared my ex-boyfriend, Jimmy.

I shove that unwelcome thought away as I make quick work of braiding it down my back before stuffing it beneath my collar. The fur-lined cap hides my face from the wind. An over-sized pea coat adds some bulk to my figure that shrinks by the day. There are only so many cans of tuna a girl can eat.

I glance out the frosted windowpane at all the white snow, take a deep breath, and step outside to climb in Harry the Honda, the only dependable male I’ve ever known besides my two uncles, men who made my aunts seem a little less frightening. I don’t know if it’s entirely fair to call Harry reliable. He can’t really leave me. The cold bites, reminding me I should have bought a pair of gloves. They’ll have to wait, just like my overdue rent. I pry open the door, stick the key in the ignition, and wait for Harry to wake up and turn over. His silence is a slap in the face. Harry was my first real taste of freedom, my dependable escape. I can’t believe he’s quitting on me.

I close my eyes and wait for the tears as I try again and again to wake up Harry. It’s no use. He’s done. Just like everyone or everything I’ve ever counted on. Sorrow abandons me, leaving me alone and empty. I clutch the steering wheel in frustration and wonder how long it would take for me to freeze to death. Strange laughter pours out of me. It’s the first emotion I’ve felt in weeks.

“You can’t kill me if I’m already dead,” I whisper into the foggy windshield as I try to remember the face I’ve worked so hard to forget.

Jimmy Fleets was his name. He was a quiet unassuming guy who worked the line with me at the coat factory. I remember how he used to watch me when he thought I wasn’t looking. I didn’t know what to make of it. I’d never had anyone’s undivided attention unless they had one foot out the door. He was a wiry guy who preferred thermals. No matter what time of the year it was he always wore them. I suppose that’s what caught my eye, but who tells someone they’re attracted to consistency, or that the very sight of the same shirt every day made me feel safe.

Like so many things in my life, the one thing that gave me reason to believe I’d found something I could hold onto, something that would anchor me, would be the very thing that tried to drag me under.

I shiver at the memories of Jimmy’s red face of anger, his wet lips as they spit ugly words at me or his fast hands that found my soft spots before I knew they were there. A hammering outside startles me. I stare out my Honda’s side window long enough to see the landlord pounding a red-lettered notice by my front door right before he stomps down the snow-covered walk toward my car to knock at my window. I open the door a crack to hear unwelcome words I’m sure I deserve.

“You can’t stay here. If you try to go back inside, I’ll take you to court.” I nod from inside Harry and bite my lip in embarrassment. This isn’t the first time this has happened, but every eviction feels like the first one. I feel just as responsible as I did when I was eight years old and naïve enough to believe a paper route would save us all from being thrown out in the street.

I wait for the landlord to step away from me and Harry. It feels like eternity as he stares through my window. I take my hands off the wheel and jam them in my pockets. I can’t believe just last week I cried myself to sleep over not having any friends. That was so dumb. If I had a friend, I’d have to tell them I just got evicted for not paying the rent. The money I brought with me from the last place I left didn’t go as far as I hoped. Nothing in my life worth holding onto ever does.

I jerk my watch from my coat pocket and stare at the numbers telling me there’s no way I’ll make it to work on time. It’s strange knowing a hardened piece of paper slid into the box on the wall tells me I exist because I show up for chocolate-covered marshmallow bunnies I shove into compartmentalized cardboard boxes while they drift along on the conveyor belt at a steady speed. A groan escapes my lips that kiss the leather on Harry’s steering wheel. My hand falls from the key in the ignition. I open the glovebox, grab the papers, and cram them down the front of my bibs.

The gun lies there, taunting me, just like Jimmy did when he took me to the firing range and taught me what a real man is—someone who made me feel safe until he didn’t. It was hard for me to leave Jimmy after so many people had left me, but I had no choice. I came home from the hospital with a fractured jaw, a few loose teeth, and cracked ribs, and he was gone.

The face of my two uncles Joe and John, South Dakota men with barks much bigger than their bites, invade my brain fog, shoving Jimmy out. My uncles were mechanics who had a little shop on the edge of town. I bet they could fix Harry. Sometimes I would hang out there after school sipping on a Coke bottle in the corner, pretending to do my schoolwork, while I eavesdropped on their many conversations about engines, salvage yards, and every car they’d ever owned, regrets they let go for something newer and shinier. I always wondered when they would do the same to me, but they never did. John always had a smile for me, his strange little niece with big eyes, wild dark hair, and a quiet mouth. He scared me. I was not used to kindness. 

Joe acknowledged my presence by dropping wrenches against metal as if I startled him by walking into his garage. The clanging was usually followed by an unhappy grunt, something I could relate to. Remembering Joe makes me think about my landlord who is out a month’s rent. Tears roll down my face when I lay the key on the seat of Harry, the only gift I’ve ever received.

“I’m sorry, Uncle John,” I mutter in between sobs. “I can’t keep him going.” I open the door and step into the snow, leaving Harry behind. All he’s good for now is parts. I feel the same way as I trudge down the sidewalk through the snow that’s up to my shins. The sun shining on the snow blinds me, but I keep moving.

I remember Uncle John’s way of talking to the Lord, someone I could never believe in. He seemed too good to be true. I’ve got no one else now, so I start talking.

“Lord, if you’re up there, I need a job and a place to live. I know it’s not fair to ask such things, as we’ve never properly met, and I know I’ve done nothing to deserve your favor,” I say with a sigh. “But I’ve heard you know everything there is to know, and you give us what we don’t deserve, so please, give me something. I don’t have it in me to kill myself,” I mutter as I duck my head and look around. I’m fearful someone heard me talking. I’m not suicidal, and I’m not crazy. I’m just exhausted. Living is so hard.

 

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