Haunted by dreams of her dead husband, Elizabeth spends five years of her life beside his grave with the blind hope that he would return to her. She eventually alienates every one of her friends before slowly rebuilding her life.

When Joseph crosses her path with his piercing eyes and electric touch, the flame of passion is ignited. But Joseph has a painful secret buried within the scar on his wrist – one he must protect in order to keep his new life, and new love.

Will Elizabeth ever be able to truly let go and stop seeing her dead husband everywhere she turns? And can Joseph risk exposing his past in order to be with her?

About the Author

Born in Louisville, Sherry A. Burton was raised in the small town of Fairdale, Kentucky. Eloping December of 1980 with a Navy man while still in her teens, she has spent all of her adult life moving from state to state counting over thirty-two moves in her thirty-one years of marriage. Sherry can attest first-hand to the fact that a whirlwind marriage can indeed last. Sherry credits her frequent moves and long separations to her ability to feel her characters’ desire to find true happiness.

Sherry has worked as a private nanny and is a certified dog trainer. She is the mother of three adult children and has four wonderful grandchildren. Her hobbies include reading, walking, Pilates, and spending time with her “friends” which is how she refers to the characters she creates. She believes in daily affirmations, positive energy and feels that karma will have the final say.

Sherry A. Burton currently resides in Chesapeake, Virginia, and has several other books in the works. This is her second novel, after Tears of Betrayal.

Chapter One

Elizabeth pulled up in front of the cemetery hedges, turned off the car, and opened the door. She stepped out, then reached behind the seat for the plastic water container. She walked over to the flowers that she had planted near Anthony’s grave the first year he had died, and watched the liquid disappear into the soil. She frowned. It did not escape her that while the flowers returned to life each year, Anthony never did. She doused the flowers with the remaining water and threw the jug at the nearby bench.

“You promised!” she hissed at the headstone as the jug clattered to the ground.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it,” called a friendly voice from the other side of the hedge.

Elizabeth shot a feeble smile toward the caretaker as he stepped out from behind the bushes. He was tall and in great shape for a man of his advanced years. He wore faded jeans and sported a blue ball cap that rested on a hairless scalp. His mustache was neatly trimmed, and white had replaced whatever color it once held. She had seen him in passing many times over the past four and a half years but had never spoken to him more than a casual hello.

“I swear if I didn’t know better I’d think you were after my job.” He peered at the freshly watered flowers then leaned down to retrieve the discarded jug.

Elizabeth glanced at the flowers, then at the plastic container in the old man’s hand.

“I… I’m sorry,” she said, and then shrugged her shoulders.

“Oh, the jug? No, I don’t mind that, people water their own flowers quite often,” he said with a dismissive wave. He extended a well-calloused hand. “What I meant was that, other than me, I don’t think anyone spends as much time in this place as you do. Zachariah Odell Davidson at your service. I’m the caretaker, have been now for going on ten years.”

Shaking his hand, Elizabeth tried to make eye contact with the kindly man, but her attention kept drawing back to the headstone.

He released her hand, then glanced at the grave and nodded toward it. “Your husband?”

“Yes, he passed away nearly five years ago,” she said, not caring that the etching on the stone had already given him that information. “A snowmobile accident.”

Elizabeth paused, closing her eyes. Opening them again, she tucked her short, honey blond hair behind her ears. Pondering whether to continue, she stared at the Pawcatuck River, which lay at the bottom of the hill, its blue water glistening in the morning sunlight. She turned her attention back to the man beside her.

“He was out with some friends having a guy’s weekend when it happened.” Lifting her foot, she brushed absently at some dirt on the toe of her shoe. “The thing is, when it first happened people assumed that they had been drinking and being stupid. But that wasn’t the case. Anthony did not have a hint of alcohol in his system when it happened.”

She bit at her bottom lip and took a deep breath to control her voice before continuing.

“Unfortunately, the same can’t be said about the kid who hit him. His alcohol level was twice the legal limit.” She laughed bitterly. “Of course, that would mean he would have had to have been legal in the first place. He was sixteen years old!”

She glanced over at Zachariah, who was listening intently. He closed his eyes, shook his head, and motioned for her to continue.

“It was ten in the morning,” she said bitterly. “He was drunk at ten in the morning.”

Zachariah shook his head again. Elizabeth brought her hands to her face and wiped at the tears that pooled in her crystal blue eyes.

“The day before had been the boy’s birthday and he was still out celebrating,” she continued. “Anthony and his friends had stopped to decide which path to take. Apparently, Anthony had removed his helmet in order to hear better when out of nowhere this kid slammed right into him.”

“For crying out loud!” Zachariah finally burst out. “A kid that young drinking and driving?”

“Apparently it was his birthday. He had been celebrating all night.” Elizabeth shook her head sadly. “It was the shortest year of his life! He and Anthony are dead because he was drunk and showing off.”

“That’s a darn shame!” The kindly caretaker’s face looked pained as his eyes lingered on the headstone. “I can’t say I didn’t pull crazy stunts when I was young, but still I didn’t do any harm. Kids nowadays don’t seem to have enough sense to think about the consequences. That really is a darn shame.”

She took a seat on the bench, which overlooked Anthony’s headstone.

“I love this bench.” She shook her head. “It seems funny, doesn’t it? I should hate the bench and all it represents.”

Zachariah sat beside her and tilted his head. “Oh?”

“It is cold and gray, just like his headstone,” she explained. She turned her head toward the stone. “But so many times it has given me solace. It was my strength when I had none.”

He smiled and patted her knee. “People grieve in many ways. There is no right way or wrong way. It’s what gives you comfort.”

She returned his smile. “There were so many days, at least in the beginning, when I knew all I had to do was make it to the bench and it would hold me up. The second I woke up in the morning, my only thought was to get dressed and get to my bench. Does that sound crazy to you?”

“Little lady, I’ve heard crazy and that doesn’t even come close.” He looked at her and winked. “I was in the Navy. I have heard a lot of things over the years.”

Elizabeth wondered if he would say the same thing if he knew that bench was the only friend she had left – that she had no living relatives and had pushed everyone else away. She decided that revelation might be pushing things during a first meeting, so she cast a glance toward the sparkling blue water in the river below instead.

Zachariah opened his mouth as if to speak then closed it again.

He really does think I’m crazy, doesn’t he? Elizabeth mused. All of my friends do too. Did… I don’t have any friends, remember? They all gave up on me.

Taking a deep breath in an effort to quiet her mind, she prodded the man to continue. “Go ahead and say what is on your mind. I’ve probably heard it all before.”

“I was just wondering why, after all these years, you still come to the cemetery every single day?”

Elizabeth felt the tears well up in her eyes. Her mouth quivered.

The fellow beside her once again rested his weathered hand upon her knee. There was no feeling of impropriety in his action; it was a simple act of comfort. If he realized she was withholding the real reason she came, he did not show it. Elizabeth leaned against him, gaining comfort in this simple act of friendship.

“I come because I want to be near my husband. It doesn’t matter as long as I’m near him, even if it is only near where he lays.”

That was a lie and she knew it. She came back because she still waited for him, going to the graveyard every day to see if he had fulfilled his promise – the one where he swore he’d come back.