The Way to Yesterday. Sharon Sala
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“Mary…darling…can you hear me?”
Mary moaned. “Make it go away,” she muttered.
Daniel frowned. “Make what go away?”
“The dreams. Make them all go away.”
He shook his head slightly, ignoring her rambling remarks as he continued to dab her forehead with a dampened handkerchief. Before Daniel could answer her, Hope slid between them.
“Daddy, what’s the matter with Mommy?”
“I think maybe she got too hot.”
Mary found herself focusing on the sound of their voices and wondered, when she looked, which dream she would be in—the one from her past or the one from the future. The urge to scream was uppermost in her mind as she slipped in and out of her fantasy.
Curious as to what she’d see next, she opened her eyes….
Dear Reader,
It’s always cause for celebration when Sharon Sala writes a new book, so prepare to cheer for The Way to Yesterday. How many times have you wished for a chance to go back in time and get a second chance at something? Heroine Mary O’Rourke gets that chance, and you’ll find yourself caught up in her story as she tries to make things right with the only man she’ll ever love.
ROMANCING THE CROWN continues with Lyn Stone’s A Royal Murder. The suspense—and passion—never flag in this exciting continuity series. Catherine Mann has only just begun her Intimate Moments career, but already she’s created a page-turning military miniseries in WINGMEN WARRIORS. Grayson’s Surrender is the first of three “don’t miss” books. Look for the next, Taking Cover, in November.
The rest of the month unites two talented veterans— Beverly Bird, with All the Way, and Shelley Cooper, with Laura and the Lawman—with exciting newcomer Cindy Dees, who debuts with Behind Enemy Lines. Enjoy them all—and join us again next month, when we once again bring you an irresistible mix of excitement and romance in six new titles by the best authors in the business.
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Senior Editor
The Way to Yesterday
Sharon Sala
MILLS & BOON
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SHARON SALA
is a child of the country. As a farmer’s daughter, her vivid imagination made solitude a thing to cherish. During her adult life, she learned to survive by taking things one day at a time. An inveterate dreamer, she yearned to share the stories her imagination created. For Sharon, her dreams have come true, and she claims one of her greatest joys is when her stories become tools for healing.
During my lifetime, there have been many people who’ve made promises to me. Some have been diligent in keeping the pledges they made, while others swiftly forgot or ignored the fact that they’d once given their word.
I want to dedicate this book to three very special people who have been forever faithful to me in this respect.
First, to my agent, Meredith Bernstein.
Thank you for your honesty and your constancy and your belief in what I do.
Next, to my editor, Leslie Wainger.
Thank you for trusting me enough to let me tell my stories my own way.
Last, but not least, to Dianne Moggy.
Thank you for taking me in at MIRA and letting me stretch my wings and fly.
Three ladies who are, to me, the epitome of class.
Thank you for your presence in my life.
Contents
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
Epilogue
Chapter 1
“I’m sorry Ms. O’Rourke, but your friend had to cancel your luncheon appointment. She said to tell you that the school called. Her daughter is ill and she had to go home. She tried to reach you at your office but you’d already left. May I seat you at a table for one?”
Mary Faith O’Rourke shook her head. “No, thank you. I won’t be staying,” she said softly, and walked out of The Mimosa without looking back.
It wasn’t as if she’d wanted to come. For the past six years she hadn’t wanted to do anything but die, and today was no exception. Exactly six years ago today, her husband and child were killed in front of her eyes.
Her friends worried about her, and in the back of her mind, she appreciated their kindnesses and sincerity. But they simply did not understand. Oh, they knew what had happened, but they didn’t know the details or the guilt with which Mary lived.
Yes, she had been standing in her front yard when her husband had backed out of the driveway with their baby in the car. And yes, she had heard, before she’d seen, the police car come careening around the corner in pursuit of another vehicle. And yes, she had yelled at Daniel—screaming for him to stop. But they didn’t know that the reason he’d been leaving the house was because they’d had a fight, or that the last words they’d spoken to each other had been in anger. They would never understand how insidious guilt was, or that she had tried so hard to die along with them when the three cars had collided and then burst into flames. Watching Daniel and their baby daughter die in that fire had destroyed her spirit. Now, she was just waiting for her body to catch up.
She glanced at her watch. It was a whole hour before she had to be back at work at the dress shop across town and since food was the farthest thought from her mind, she started to wander the streets.
It had been years since she’d been in this part of Savannah, but her friend had been insistent, raving about the renovations that had been done and the new businesses that had sprung up afterward. Mary had to admit that the place looked good. Old cement had been removed from the sidewalks, revealing a herringbone pathway of ancient, red bricks. Trees lined the curbs on both sides of the street, laying down a wide swath of shade for the shoppers who were on foot. Dainty trellises covered with climbing ivy and bougainvillea partially