Untold Read online

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Shannon Richard

  Excerpt from Undone copyright © 2013 by Shannon Richard

  Cover design by Elizabeth Turner

  Cover photograph by Katie Lamb

  Cover copyright © 2017 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  Hachette Book Group supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Forever Yours

  Hachette Book Group

  1290 Avenue of the Americas

  New York, NY 10104

  forever-romance.com

  twitter.com/foreverromance

  First published as an ebook and print on demand edition: September 2017

  Forever Yours is an imprint of Grand Central Publishing. The Forever Yours name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

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  ISBNs: 978-1-4555-6509-2 (ebook), 978-1-4555-6512-2 (print on demand)

  E3-20170719-DANF

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One: A Girl Walks Into a Bar

  Chapter Two: Freak-Outs, Flightless Birds, and Fortune Cookies

  Chapter Three: Unwanted, Unpleasant Business vs. Pleasant Business… Very Pleasant Business

  Chapter Four: A Long List of Likes

  Chapter Five: A Rather Harsh Reality Check

  Chapter Six: Secrets

  Chapter Seven: How to Eat Your Feelings

  Chapter Eight: You Know What They Say About Assumptions…

  Chapter Nine: Pariah vs. Piranha

  Chapter Ten: Making Up Is Hard to Do

  Chapter Eleven: More People Eating Their Feelings with Pancakes

  Chapter Twelve: No Strings Attached

  Chapter Thirteen: Chicken Potpie, Fuzzy Fox Slippers, and Fate

  Chapter Fourteen: Cupcake Surcharges

  Chapter Fifteen: Gold, Diamonds, and Wine Straight Out of the Bottle

  Chapter Sixteen: Wine as Currency

  Chapter Seventeen: Unsteady

  Chapter Eighteen: Getting Down with My Gnomies

  Chapter Nineteen: Surprise Yourself

  Chapter Twenty: The Death of a Bachelor

  Chapter Twenty-One: Fools Rush In

  Chapter Twenty-Two: The Grim Truth

  Chapter Twenty-Three: When You Find Me

  Epilogue: No Better Love

  An Excerpt from Undone

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Shannon Richard

  MORE BOOKS IN A COUNTRY ROAD SERIES

  You Might Also Like…

  Newsletters

  To Nikki Rushbrook

  What you’ve done for this series

  goes above and beyond.

  I’d even go so far as to say you know these books second only to me.

  You are an invaluable reader,

  brainstormer, and friend.

  Also, thank you for bringing Julie Garwood,

  and a love of historicals, into my life.

  You’ve been a saving grace to me in so many ways.

  Chapter One

  A Girl Walks Into a Bar

  Bethelda Grimshaw was dead.

  And there was no one to mourn her. She was the only child of only children. She’d never married. She’d never had kids. She didn’t have friends.

  She was survived by her cat.

  The woman wasn’t exactly what anyone in Mirabelle, Florida, would call well liked…or liked at all, really. She was more like a vulture, quick to swoop in and pick at someone’s misfortune. In life she thrived on causing misery to anyone and everyone.

  So no, she wasn’t missed in death. Not even the least little bit.

  The thing was, no one really knew why Bethelda was the way she was. She hadn’t always been a horrible human being, but somewhere in those forty-seven years of her life, things had changed.

  At one point she’d been a writer for the town newspaper. She mostly did local interest pieces, her stories focusing on the people of Mirabelle. They had the tendency to lean a little on the gossipy side, and when they turned downright defamatory, she’d been fired. It was only a few years later that she found another outlet to spew her hatred.

  The Grim Truth was Bethelda’s blog, and it had been around for about a decade now. No one would outright admit to reading it, yet everyone knew when a new story was up. One of those small-town mysteries. She changed the names of the people in her posts, giving them a new moniker that was insulting more times than not. It was always clear who she was dragging through the mud. There was never any doubt.

  The night before Bethelda’s funeral, there was some sort of weird memorial service going on at the Sleepy Sheep. It was Mirabelle’s most popular watering hole, a bar built by Owen Shepherd just after World War II. The building had survived many a hurricane and a number of bar fights, but for the most part it wasn’t a rowdy place.

  The inside and outside were made of the same darkly stained mahogany, the rich brown walls giving off that Scottish pub feel. Well, what parts of the wall that could be seen. Some of the space was taken up with cartoons of sleeping sheep, and there were signed dollar bills attached to the walls and ceiling.

  Over a dozen tables were scattered around the floor with chairs surrounding them, while booths lined much of the walls. Over the years there had been a number of additions to the place: pool tables, a dartboard, a jukebox, and a stage in the far corner where live bands would sometimes play. And those weren’t the only things that had been added on. A couple of years back a small—but exceptionally efficient—brewery had been built.

  The founder might have passed away over five years ago, but the business was still in the family and going strong. There was usually some member of the Shepherd family working behind the counter and serving up alcohol to everyone who wanted a drink. That night it was both of Owen’s grandsons: Nathanial “Shep” Shepherd and Finn Shepherd.

  It was clear they were brothers, with just a few variations here and there. They had the same wavy black hair, though Finn’s was cut just a little bit shorter than Shep’s. There was a slight gap in their heights, Finn standing at about six-feet-two to Shep’s six-feet-three. The younger Shepherd made up for that inch by being just a tad bit more muscular. The biggest differences in their appearance were that Shep’s arms were covered in tattoos and Finn was sporting a pair of black-framed glasses. But behind those lenses were the same startlingly blue eyes as his brother’s.

  And their eyes paired with those sexy smiles? Well, the Shepherd boys were a force to be reckoned with for sure. Though only one of them was still using his good looks and easygoing nature to charm the female patrons. Shep was a happily married man now. He and his wife, Hannah, had a fifteen-month-old son, Nathanial Owen Shepherd III, otherwise known as baby Nate or Nate junior.

  Finn on the other hand? Well, he wasn’t settling down anytime s
oon. Or ever. He had absolutely no interest in that path. None at all.

  That hadn’t always been the case, but after one particular woman had taken his heart and shoved it through a meat grinder, he was better off alone. Though that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy the company of a lady here or there.

  But Finn had a strict set of rules that he never broke: no locals, no staying the night, and no repeats.

  Mirabelle wasn’t the biggest of towns, either in population or size. It could be a bit jarring to run into someone he’d walked out on in the middle of the night. So nonlocals it was, and there were plenty.

  The summer was the busiest season for tourists, but even in the winter people were still coming and going. The water was that stunning emerald green year-round, and a room right on the beach always offered a good getaway.

  Though on that particular evening, Finn wasn’t focused on finding someone to let him into her bed. He was too distracted by what was going on at the bar.

  It wasn’t a wake for Bethelda so much as a roast. If there was a mean thing to be said about the woman, someone said it.

  “Good riddance,” Cynthia Bowers hiccupped as she took a sip of her whiskey sour. “That horrible woman was full of hate.”

  “She was vile with a capital ‘V.’” Mindy Trist lifted her glass of cranberry and vodka, clinking it to the rim of Cynthia’s.

  It was no wonder neither woman had any love lost when it came to Bethelda. They’d both been targeted in many a Grim Truth article. Cynthia’s husband Rodney had a tendency to end up in other women’s beds, while Mindy had the habit of letting any man into hers. She’d even tried to come after Finn a number of times.

  The only reason Mindy and Cynthia were friends was because Mindy had never let Rodney into her bed.

  “Hear! Hear!” Shelby and Herald Wiggins lifted their glasses in the air from their seats over in a booth.

  It had been awhile since Finn had seen the couple not screaming at each other. They had a tendency to get into rather heated altercations. Heated being the operative word. Just a few months ago Shelby had set Herald’s truck on fire. Bethelda had a field day with that story.

  Finn hadn’t exactly been the woman’s biggest fan, either. Far from it. Not only had she tried to destroy his brother’s relationship with Hannah, but Finn himself had been the subject of more than a couple of the woman’s stories. They’d mostly involved his ex-girlfriend Becky Wright…now Rebecca (because it was more mature sounding) Milton. It was fine with him. Becky had been his girl. Rebecca? Well, she was the one who’d shoved his heart into that meat grinder.

  THE GRIM TRUTH

  OLD LOVERS NEW LAST NAMES

  Dr. Do Everyone a Little has been back in our small town for over a year now. He returned from his time away getting himself an actual education, unlike his useless older brother Wild Ram. A full-time bartender, I ask you, what kind of a job is that?

  But that isn’t today’s story. No, today’s story is about the younger miscreant. Now don’t get me wrong, he is a fairly decent veterinarian. Though, there isn’t a very high bar to compare him to considering the only other man capable of the job isn’t the world’s best, either. And again, that is a different story for a different day.

  Years ago, Dr. Do Everyone a Little used to be seen around town holding the hand of Gold Digger. There were more than a few times when the childhood sweethearts were caught with their pants down. They were like animals in heat. But in those years that Dr. Do Everyone a Little was away, Goldie moved on to better and richer pastures.

  Tomorrow, Goldie will be walking down the aisle to marry Dr. Smarmy Smile. Apparently, she has a thing for men sporting that Dr. title, even if they are in a lesser field of said title. But Dr. Smarmy comes with much more than a fancy name. He comes with a whole-hell-of-a-lot of money. That family has been in the green for longer than I’ve been alive. And now Dr. Smarmy has a bit of a monopoly on the dentist business in this town. So as he is the one getting everyone’s money, I’m sure that smarmy grin he’s sporting is one of the shit-eating variety.

  The breakup between Dr. Do Everyone a Little and Gold Digger might’ve happened years ago, but it doesn’t mean that certain people are over it. I’m sure that a lot of my readers will remember that the two doctors have had a bit of rivalry going. They’ve always tried to one-up each other in all aspects of their lives, since way back when they were children. It appears now that Dr. Smarmy has won.

  He got the girl.

  Dr. Do Everyone a Little has apparently set himself out on a mission: screw every woman he meets. And he’s doing a pretty good job of it, too. It helps that he regularly works at his family’s bar, the Den of Iniquity. There are plenty of willing women who would be more than happy to drop their panties when it comes to Dr. Do Everyone a Little.

  And drop them they do.

  That particular article was old. Rebecca and Brett Milton had gotten married well over a year ago, but Bethelda had still liked to write about that particular story every once in a while. There were a couple of stories that were tried and true, and she apparently thought it was her part to keep everyone up to date with the saga. He didn’t give a fuck about it, and he could say that in all honesty now.

  These days he might live by the once-burned-twice-shy philosophy, but he was over Rebecca. Really and truly.

  Finn pulled his focus from the people cheering Bethelda’s death and moved to the other end of the bar toward his friends. Brendan and Paige King were sitting on one side of the corner, while Jax and Grace Anderson were on the other side.

  “You want another?” Finn asked, nodding to Paige’s nearly empty beer glass.

  “Please.” She nodded, lifting the glass to her mouth and finishing off the last of the amber liquid.

  There was no doubt his friend needed a drink…or five. Paige worked at Adams and Family Funeral Home, had since she moved to Mirabelle five and half years ago. Her job there entailed writing obituaries and putting together the photo tributes for the recently deceased. But it was just one of many jobs she held. She was also a pretty successful artist; her pieces were displayed and sold in many businesses all over town. And then there was the fact that she was raising three children.

  Paige only worked at the funeral home three days a week, and that Tuesday had been one of them. She’d been the one putting together the program, prayer cards, and tribute for Bethelda’s funeral. She looked like she’d had the day from hell because of it, too. The freckles on her nose and cheeks were standing out in stark contrast on her skin, and wisps of her long brown hair had fallen out from the messy bun on the top of her head.

  When Paige had first come to town, Bethelda had set her sights on making Paige’s life as miserable as possible. For whatever reason, Bethelda had a real problem with people who weren’t from Mirabelle. And she let them know it. Regularly.

  It was just too bad for Bethelda that Paige had met Brendan. Once the two had started dating, there wasn’t a chance in hell Paige was going anywhere without him.

  But it wasn’t just Paige who Bethelda had gone after. Brendan and Grace were brother and sister, with two different fathers, and a mother who’d died of breast cancer years ago. That story had been written about enough times to be the length of a novel at this point. Jax’s relationship with Grace—and the fact that his parents weren’t the best of human beings and causing drama in their own right—probably made for two books by now.

  Hell, Bethelda had written about all of Finn’s close friends at one point or another.

  “Today was that bad, huh?” Grace took a pull on the straw floating in the pomegranate-blueberry concoction Shep had mixed up for her.

  “It was awful. Going through every year of Bethelda’s life? Putting it in order? Seeing it all laid out? I don’t know. It’s just…” She tried to formulate the words. “She wasn’t a nice woman. Not to any of us. Not ever. But to see her, from when she was a baby to now…” She trailed off again, shaking her head.

  “It humani
zes her,” Brendan finished for his wife, reaching over and running his hand across her shoulder blades. “Which makes it harder because none of us ever really looked at her like she was one.”

  “I think this is just her reaching out from beyond the grave to make our lives more miserable.”

  “What do you mean?” Finn asked as he slid another glass of beer in front of Paige, taking the now empty one away.

  “How many other funeral homes are in Mirabelle? And she picks Adams and Family. She came in last year and planned out the whole thing. Brought in the pictures she wanted me to use and everything. Me. She hated me. I mean, a case could be made that she hated everyone, but I feel like her vendetta toward me was stronger than, say, Stephanie Freck who works at Lawson and Sons. Or Kendra Barrington over at Sheffield’s. And not only did she pick Adams and Family to have her funeral, she specifically chose the café to cater it. There were five other options and she wants Café Lula. A place that she liked to say on many occasions had the worst coffee in town.”

  “Which is such a ridiculous thing to say because everyone knows it’s the best in town.” The frown on Jax’s face was more intense than usual, and rightly so.

  Grace and her grandmother Lula Mae owned and ran the café, Lula Mae making more of the savory dishes while Grace was usually in the back baking sweets all day. And it was no wonder Jax was defending the coffee. The man went there every single morning that he was on duty; he’d get a cup before he started his patrol. It was something he’d done well before he and Grace had ever become a thing. He’d used it as his excuse to see her every day.

  “Thank you, baby.” Grace patted her husband’s hand, giving him a small smile.

  “And it isn’t just that,” Paige continued. “Writing that freaking obituary was one of the hardest things I’ve ever written. How do you honor the dead when you didn’t respect them in life?”

  “That is a question I do not know the answer to.” Finn rested his palms on the bar as he leaned forward.

  “I thought you were supposed to be the all wise bartender.” Brendan raised his eyebrows as he brought his glass to his lips and took a sip of his beer.