Jared Anderson has the heavy burden of trying to save his father’s business, Big Sky Log Homes. Shocked to find the business in debt and unable to make payroll, Jared must find a way to make money fast or lose everything.
Samantha Daniels dream to become a recording artist is shattered in an unexpected tragedy that breaks her right hand. Unable to play guitar or piano, she is forced to give up the chance to go on tour with one of the country’s hottest bands.
When Jared offers to go on tour with her, neither see the unexpected turn of events that change their lives forever.
Once high-school sweethearts, now Jared and Samantha find themselves at odds.
Comprise, the lure of fame and fortune leads to broken promises and broken hearts.
Can Jared and Samantha find their way back to each other after they’ve lost so much?
Excerpt of Chapter One
Where is he? His father better not be off on one of his binges. Jared hadn’t seen his dad in three days. That could only mean one thing. When the pressure was on, Mike Anderson sought counsel in good ole’ Jim Beam. He sped up the dirt road leading to his old man’s cabin, kicking up a thick cloud of dust.
Leave it to his father to bail on him at their busiest season. This was no time for Mike to check out, and pull one of his weeklong disappearing acts. Jared smacked his hand against the steering wheel. No sooner had they signed the contract for the biggest log home they’ve ever built and Mike disappears.
He came over a rise, slid around the bend in his truck. The house was the first log home Mike ever built. It gave birth to a booming business, Big Sky Log Homes. The chimney came into view, then the sloped roof, the wide porch, and dark stained logs. The truck skidded to a stop, next to his father’s rig. He put the truck in park and turned off the engine.
Leaving the keys in the ignition, he opened the door; his work boots sent a puff of dust up when they hit the dry late summer ground. He slammed the door shut. With long deliberate strides, he strode up onto the porch and banged on the door.
“Dad, open up.” His breathing was heavy with indignation. “I know you’re in there. Open the door!” The door knob turned effortlessly in his hand.
Jared shoved open the door. It swung back and banged against the wall. Dark inside, he made out the faint outline of furniture. A foul odor hit him square in the face. It wasn’t just the sour stench of whiskey or bad body odor. It was worse. He covered his nose with his hand.
His eyes adjusted to the dark and his gaze fell to the floor near the kitchen. His father lay face down on the linoleum floor. Jared’s breath caught and he hurried to his father’s side.
“Dad?” He pushed his father’s arm. But he made no motion, no sound.
There were many times he’d seen his father passed out. But some shaking usually solicited at least a groan.
“Dad! Wake up.” He grasped his father’s arm and shoulder and struggled to roll him over.
Mike flopped to his back. His face was white. A gouge on his forehead left a spot of dried blood.
Jared’s heart pounded in his chest. “Dad, wake up.” He shook him by the shoulders. The smell enough to make him gag.
A deep wave of dread seized him. He pressed his fingers to his father’s neck but couldn’t pick up a pulse.
“No, Dad. No, don’t do this.” He sat back and stared at the lifeless form. “God, please.” He pounded his fist on his thighs.
He scrambled to his feet and stumbled over to the counter. Waves of anger and grief swept over him. His stomach clenched.
He scurried to the sink and lost his lunch. Tears pierced his eyes. Turning on the faucet, he splashed water on his face and rinsed out his mouth. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and glanced back at his father. A tear escaped his eye and rolled unchecked down his cheek.
He stumbled outside to his truck and snatched his phone off the seat, then dialed 911 like he’d done so many times in the past. But this time was different, this time Mike wouldn’t sleep this off.