Souls Estranged (The Souls Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  SOULS ESTRANGED

  Acknowledgements

  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

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Epilogue

  SOULS ESTRANGED

  The Souls Trilogy Book Two

  ANNE B. COLE

  SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

  New York

  SOULS ESTRANGED

  Copyright©2015

  ANNE B. COLE

  Cover Design by Fiona Jayde

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

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America by

  Soul Mate Publishing

  P.O. Box 24

  Macedon, New York, 14502

  ISBN: 978-1-61935-916-1

  www.SoulMatePublishing.com

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  To my husband and children;

  Mike, Hannah, Katie, and Drew

  Thank you for your love, support,

  and creative suggestions to my endless requests

  for synonyms.

  Acknowledgements

  I extend my love and appreciation to the countless number of people who have supported and helped me along this journey. Especially to:

  My husband and three teenage children who support me every step of the way.

  My editor, Char, from Soul Mate Publishing, who strengthens my writing through my fear of purple monsters.

  My critique partners, Deborah, Joan, Kallie, and Bethany who give me honest advice, suggestions, and corrections.

  My author friends who support, tweet, encourage, and answer endless questions.

  My cover artist, Fiona Jayde, who turns ideas into the most amazing covers.

  My preschool co-workers, friends, and fans who have encouraged me to write the next book in the Souls Trilogy.

  Hugs to all,

  Anne

  Dear Reader,

  Writing Book Two of The Souls Trilogy, Souls Estranged, has been an incredible adventure. Before Soul Mate Publishing contracted my first novel, Souls Entwined, book two was already a work in progress. Like Souls Entwined, I didn’t begin writing it for publication, I wrote for fun.

  I loved Lorenzo and Anya’s characters so much, the first story wrapped around them more than Sam and Gretta. Readers loved Lorenzo and Anya, too, but many voiced their need to know more about Sam and Gretta. Souls Estranged meets this request with suspenseful twists, sweet romance, and a peek into the spiritual world of cursed souls in the afterlife.

  Many people in my life influence my writing, including my husband and three teenage children. Here are some behind the scene tidbits.

  After reading Souls Entwined, Hannah wanted to know why the two black birds and the hawk continued to soar in the sky when everything else around them stood still. I had to admit, I had no idea. Her reply, “Make it mean something, Mom.” So I did.

  Katie told me, ‘I’d rather eat cookie dough than baked cookies.’ We had this conversation over a plate of loaded baked potato chips at my favorite diner. She requested I include both foods in my book. Done. Readers will find other scrumptious eats sprinkled through the story. Follow my blog at www.annebcole.com/blog for future recipe posts including Katarina’s Blueberry Buckle, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Balls, and Bacon and Cheese Loaded Potato Chips.

  Drew loves reading suspense. He told me my book would be easier to follow if I had subtitles that included the name of the character’s perspective for each chapter. He said, “Rick Riordan does this with his books. You should, too.”

  Several years ago, my husband took us all to a dirt track for Saturday evening races. We had the best time. His love for racing, and the many races we have attended as a family through the years, made writing Chapter Six fun and easy.

  I hope you enjoy Souls Estranged.

  Prologue

  Sunday

  Sam

  In the dim morning light of the hospital room, Sam Daggett watched the little cat stretch its front paws before zeroing intense green eyes on him.

  “Roxana?” He scrutinized the feline for the slightest twitch of recognition.

  Nothing.

  Doubting Roxana’s spirit remained entwined within the gray and white cat, he moved his focus to Gretta Dobbs. She slept peacefully with her hand nestled in his. Neither of their families had returned to the hospital. Her garnet ring caught his attention and immediately a sense of foreboding crept up his spine.

  His heart sped as images of his time traveling, out-of-body adventure with Gretta flashed through his mind. Roxana, Gretta’s long-dead ancestor, enabled their souls to entwine within nineteenth-century lovers in order to gather information on the cursed ring. Pride, determination, and fear filled him.

  “I’m so sorry we didn’t find all of the answers we needed,” Sam whispered as he lifted her hand to his lips. He watched her eyes and listened for the beep of the heart monitor to quicken, satisfied she remained in dreamland. “I know you don’t remember our time together or what we’ve been t
hrough.”

  He shuddered at the memories. His gaze fell back to the ring. Frustration filled him. The urge to rip it off her hand pounded through him, but he remembered she remained cursed with or without the ring.

  Control. I must control my emotions.

  He refocused his thoughts on the present and relished in the gratitude of simply being in the same room with her.

  A soft sigh escaped her lips and she squeezed his hand before slipping into a deeper slumber.

  “With you, nothing is impossible.” Careful not to bump his broken collarbone, Sam leaned closer and murmured, inches from her ear, “Brave and beautiful. Ready and willing to face pirates, spirits, and the horrors of the purgatories to end the family curse.” His heart hammered in his chest as memories of seeking treasure, falling in love, and losing it all flashed within his mind.

  “I love you, Gretta. I’ll do everything in my power to earn your love.”

  Tracing his fingers over the back of her hand, he touched the face of the ring’s oval red stone. He remembered every moment of their time together, while Gretta’s memories had been erased. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t prevent his thoughts from wandering. Concern prickled his skin as he recalled their quest to understand the ring’s curses.

  The most dangerous one, a curse of bad luck, remained a mystery.

  He inhaled and pushed his failures away. “Katarina told me to keep my distance from you because of potential tragedy. Nothing will keep me away. I vow to protect and love you forever.”

  Gretta’s grip on his fingers tightened. With her hand remaining in his, he brushed a stray lock of hair off her cheek. She released his fingers and nuzzled into his palm with a tiny sigh. He closed his eyes, content to be back in his own body and time with her.

  Yet uneasiness crept deep within and the dreadful feeling of impending tragedy grew stronger with every passing minute.

  Chapter 1

  Friday

  Sam

  Footsteps on the hardwood floor snapped Sam out of a restless sleep. Despite the protection of an arm sling, pain ripped at his broken shoulder. Agonizing waves thundered through his arm and chest. The doctors said he should have scheduled surgery this week instead of next Monday. Surgery had to wait. Gretta needed him.

  He grabbed the open bottle off the windowsill and swallowed a pill. Relief for four hours. He’d tough it out after that.

  The alarm clock on his nightstand buzzed. Eight-fifteen. He needed to be strong today, not only to support Gretta, but to manage his own grief and keep an eye on his father. Pop’s graveyard shift would soon end and they planned to meet at the church.

  Downstairs, water gurgled in the sink. Clattering dishes grew louder as he watched the minutes tick by. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee floated upstairs, followed by footfalls and a knock on his bedroom door.

  Before he could answer, Ruby burst through the door, carrying a tray holding his NYU mug, filled with coffee, and a giant piece of blueberry coffee cake.

  “Morning, Sam. Family arrives at the church at ten, funeral begins at eleven,” Ruby announced. “Gretta is riding with her cousin, Beth. Services should last an hour. There’s a lunch provided in the church hall after the burial.”

  Caffeine might surely help him get through the day, but until he got off the pills, he couldn’t have any. Ruby set the tray on the end table. Gratitude filled Sam at how the elderly nurse had continued caring for him, even though he had been released from the hospital days ago.

  Through the haze of the meds, important words hit him.

  “Gretta’s out of the hospital?”

  “Released this morning. Poor thing. The doctor kept her there for observation as long as he could. Her head injury, combined with her father’s tragic death, well . . . it’s no wonder the girl stopped talking.” Ruby stirred sugar into the coffee and poured milk to the brim. “Do you think she remembers anything?”

  “Her father’s death is my fault,” he muttered.

  “Absolutely not, Samuel Daggett.” Ruby handed him the cake before plopping herself on the end of his bed. “Now, eat that blueberry buckle. Those painkillers need to be taken on a full stomach.” She sipped the coffee he craved.

  “If I hadn’t slammed her head into the street, Mr. Dobbs wouldn’t have sat at her side all night. He wouldn’t have fallen asleep at the wheel the next day. Gretta blames herself, but the real fault is mine.”

  “Nonsense. Gretta’s grandmother had a stroke while Gretta was in a coma. Mr. Dobbs offered to check on her while his wife stayed with their daughter. The poor woman blames herself for her husband’s death as well. It’s no one’s fault. A tragedy. Bad luck. Not another word about it. Now eat.” Ruby gulped more coffee.

  Sam obediently ate a forkful of cake. Flavors of blueberry and cinnamon swirled inside his mouth. In his mind he pictured his mom. Before cancer took over her body, she made the most delicious blueberry pies. His mouth dried and he forced himself to swallow. The funeral for Gretta’s father would be difficult in many ways.

  “I wonder what she remembers.”

  Ruby’s voice yanked Sam back into the present.

  “Remembers what? The tree falling? Her talking to me when we were trapped under the branches?” Sam quickly took another bite to hide his discomfort at her question. How would Ruby know anything about our time traveling experience? Did Gretta talk to her about it?

  Ruby drained the coffee mug and sighed. “Gretta’s been through a lot this past week. The doctors kept her sedated to allow her body to heal. She knows her father died, yet the medication kept her from reacting and held back the tears people expected her to shed. Eventually, grief will come.” She patted his leg and left the room.

  Sam remembered holding Gretta’s hand, ready to help any way he could. Her silence had continued even though the grip on his hand tightened.

  Does she remember my love for her? Or are her feelings for me entirely due to the ring’s curse of love? His thoughts raced. Does she remember how I abandoned her during our time travels?

  Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Sam took note of the time. Two hours until they needed to leave for the funeral.

  Ruby reentered the bedroom and hung a suit, fresh from the dry cleaners, on the doorknob.

  “I found this in the back of your closet. With a few snips, we’ll make it fit around your sling.” Producing a pair of scissors, she began tearing off the plastic.

  Sam raked a hand through his hair, knowing he would not be able to stop the nurse from cutting it.

  “I’ll sew the jacket back up. You’ll never know it was altered. Get in the bathroom. I’ll be there in a minute.” Her determined gaze softened.

  Sam knew not to disobey. Old enough to be his grandmother, arguing with Ruby was fruitless. The pain in his broken collarbone became unbearable when he attempted to do things himself.

  Within an hour, Ruby had Sam dressed in the suit he wore to his mother’s funeral. Same suit, one year later. Remembering his mother’s service hit him hard. He sat on the end of his bed and dropped his face in his good hand. Comforting Gretta would be impossible if he fell apart.

  Ruby’s footsteps puttered into his room, halting just inside the door. Through his fingers, he noticed she had changed into a black skirt and fitted jacket, her steel gray hair swept into a tight bun. She picked a piece of invisible fuzz off his right shoulder.

  “I hate funerals.” She moved her attention to the mirror, pretending to smooth her already perfect hair.

  Seeing how her eyes brimmed with unshed tears, he could tell she had experienced losing a loved one. Yet she was here, helping him, not wallowing in past grief. He stood behind her and gently squeezed her shoulder, before offering her the use of his good arm.

  Together they walked downstairs and outside to Ruby’s car.
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  Chapter 2

  The Swing

  Sam

  Mouth hanging open, Sam stood in front of a cherry red 1972 Oldsmobile Cutlass 442 convertible. He smoothed the door frame with an open palm in admiration.

  Ruby helped him in. “Sorry for the lack of seatbelts. My husband took them out years before the law required them.”

  The white vinyl bench seats, roll down windows, and huge steering wheel captivated his attention. Sam couldn’t wait to hear the motor.

  Ruby slid behind the wheel, pumped the gas pedal twice, and turned the key. The engine roared to life.

  “Don’t disappoint me today, Nellie.” Ruby threw the car into reverse.

  “Nellie?” Sam questioned hesitantly.

  “I call all my cars ‘Nellie,’” Ruby quipped, before putting the car in drive. She punched the accelerator and flew down the street well beyond the speed limit.

  “You have more classic cars?” Sam braced himself as she took a turn in the road a bit fast.

  “No, my Escort gets me to and from work.” Ruby paused. “I only drive the Olds a few times a year. Today’s a good day to get her out.” She eased off the gas.

  “She’s a beauty.” Sam admired the interior, touching the dash with his fingertips. He leaned across the huge bench seat to catch a glimpse of the odometer. It read 00602. His mouth dropped open.

  “Over a hundred thousand.” Ruby glowed. “I flipped her last year.”

  Sam watched the last number click to read 00603. June third, the day his mom died. The same day, one year later, he met Gretta Dobbs and traveled back in time. June third changed his life forever. Twice.