Reinventing Riley: A New Season Story
by Liz Flaherty
Book Blurb:
A New Season, Book 2 – Reinventing Riley
A month ago, I told you about how A New Season began—with the crossing of a bridge into somewhere or something different, something new—something that is a change. Only this time it was a real bridge. I don’t remember where we were, but the green sign identifying the span identified it as Fallen Soldier Bridge.
I told you about Syd Cavanaugh then. Today I’m introducing her best friend, Riley Winters.
Living in Central Indiana among a gathering of small towns, one of the fun things for me about visiting cities is their tall buildings. I find them amazing and exciting. I like craning my neck in search of the sky, eating at restaurants not available in cornfield communities, and walking everywhere.
And then I can’t wait to get home, where the tallest building in all those small towns is three stories, the sky is big and beautiful, and “everybody knows your name.”
But it’s the buildings I’m thinking about today, the ones that hold place of pride on corners or stand in groups in the middle of the block, their facades corniced and bracketed. They’re brick and most of them have had windows and doors and purposes replaced over the years. Many of them have been painted in colors more welcoming than the old brick.
Reinventing Riley is a sweet romance between a rock-and-roll playing pastor and a savvy businesswoman. Their story shouldn’t have anything to do with buildings, and yet it does. When Rye, who’s just sold a business and has absolutely no interest in buying another one, sees the Culp Building in downtown Fallen Soldier, Pennsylvania, it speaks to her. Like all old buildings, it has stories to tell.
Reluctantly, she listens.
Excerpt:
On the plane, Jake talked about the interview. “I think it went well. The church is large and much more progressive than Fallen Soldier. I could actually have a private life there. The youth pastorate is the one that’s open, so I’d work with kids, and I’d love that.”
The but was silent, but she felt it anyway. “When are you going to North Carolina?” she asked.
“Not until after the holidays. I’m going down to preach a Sunday in January for Wyatt, and I’ll talk to them while I’m there. Even if I end up leaving Fallen Soldier, I owe the Little Church in the Woods fulltime until that happens. I wouldn’t leave between Thanksgiving and Christmas in any event.”
She wished she could tell what he was really thinking, but she couldn’t. There was no vibe between them indicating which way his decision was leaning. Not that those vibes were all that dependable anyway. She used to think she knew what was in Ben’s mind and heart, and she seldom did. They had joked that with bipolar disorder, she was bound to be right at least half the time, but it hadn’t worked out that way.
They talked about other things then, a movie they wanted to see, the Christmas pageant at church, the food pantry that burst with donations this time of year but was nearly bare by February.
When they were on the mountain road that led from Altoona to Cooper Lake, Jake said quietly, “It’s a blessing to have choices.” He slowed as light snow began to drift down. “I’ve known people whose pastoral careers were irreversibly changed and occasionally ruined by a single incident that was often not within their control. Or by a decision that didn’t fit into the parameters set forth by a church’s administration even if it was done in faith.”
They didn’t get back to the lake until after nine o’clock. Although it had been an eventful day and much had been accomplished, Rye was exhausted when she crawled into bed with Hagar against her back.
Being alone felt good—it was something she’d finessed over the years since Ben’s passing. But it could also be lonely. If Jake went to Chicago, would she change her mind once again about moving there?
The very thought made her sit up in bed, startling Hagar, who meowed in annoyance and dived under the covers.
She’d been widowed for six years. She’d been a successful businesswoman for much longer than that. She avoided long-term relationships like the plague she often thought they were. She’d—
Well, she’d never lied to herself, for starters, and she wasn’t going to start now. She didn’t know exactly what this “thing” with Jake McAlister was, but it was different than anything she’d experienced before. He was different.
And perhaps she was, too.
Bio and links:
Liz Flaherty has spent the past several years enjoying not working a day job, making terrible crafts, and writing stories in which the people aren’t young, brilliant, or even beautiful. She’s decided (and has to re-decide most every day) that the definition of success is having a good time. Along with her husband of lo, these many years, kids, grands, friends, and the occasional cat, she’s doing just that. Find her on Facebook or her blog, Window Over the Sink. A girl just can’t have too many friends! She can be reached at lizkflaherty@gmail.com or please find her at any of the places listed in Linktree at https://linktr.ee/LizFlaherty?subscribe
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