Natasha's Diary Read online

  The Natasha Saga

  Natasha’s Diary, Book 2

  By

  Heather Greenis

  Digital ISBNs:

  EPUB 9781771457958

  Kindle 9781771457965

  WEB PDF 9781771457972

  Print ISBN 9781771457989

  Copyright 2015 by Heather Greenis

  Cover art by Michelle Lee Copyright 2015

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into 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 of this book

  * * *

  Dedication:

  To my husband. A man I respect.

  Chapter One

  Present Day

  “Keegh? Keegh? Keeghan?”

  Her eyes snapped open. A shadow loomed over her. From the corner of her eye, something red flashed. Numbers came into focus. Four. Five. Two. Where am I? She looked back to the shadow. Who are you?

  Keeghan struggled to concentrate and pull her mind from the dream that just ended so terribly. Am I still dreaming? I can’t tell. Is this another dream? Shit. Where am I? Think, think, think. Just a second. I know that voice. It’s not calm and reassuring, but that’s Will’s voice. You silly ass. Glancing to the left of the shadow, trees and a moon lit sky filled her vision. That’s out our bedroom window. If I reach down, I’ll feel the edge of Constable’s bed. I’m in bed in our room. I was probably talking in my sleep and woke Will.

  “You were dreaming, love.”

  Uh, it was another dream. Bringing a subconscious back to reality is the worst. The red flash is the clock radio.

  “I’m sorry I woke you,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

  “You were mumbling, and obviously upset. Please tell me it was a different dream.”

  She shook her head, retracing the events of the dream in her mind. Stewart and Natasha, the young princess and her non-prince charming. If only he had royal blood they could have married and lived happily ever after with her family’s blessing. Instead, they had been forced into a secret relationship. A local orphanage was Natasha’s daytime refuge while Stewart attended his first year at university. Then she joined him at the school. They were inseparable. The only problem—he had no idea she was a princess.

  “If you remember from my last dream, Natasha’s world was turned upside down when Stewart proposed. What should have been the happiest day of her life, turned out to be the worst. Natasha had no option but to tell Stewart the truth. Poor guy. He was devastated. His family would be devastated. What you don’t know is what happened in the second part of my dream. Natasha went to Stewart’s room to talk. She was desperate for a way to be together, so she turned to her only friend, the woman that was her childhood nanny.”

  “Seriously? An employee of her parents.”

  “Yeah. That’s what Stewart thought, but it was a good move. Nanny becomes a confidant and liaison with her older twin brothers. After graduation, they went into hiding, and then discovered Natasha was pregnant.”

  “Uh oh. Shitty timing.”

  “Yes and no. He stood by his woman and they became parents to a little girl. Hope. Fitting name, don’t you think?”

  Will smiled. “Keep going. What else happened?”

  “They had three good years with two close encounters—”

  “Not of the third kind, but of the king’s kind.”

  “You fool.” She chuckled. “But, yes. Her father was determined to bring his daughter home. He’s a nasty bugger. Scary, knowing the power his position gives him. Anyway, knowing Stewart would be put to death and his entire family could also be in danger was more than Natasha could handle. Think of the ramifications, Will. Their daughter would lose the only family she knew. A family that loved her. At the end of the dream, Stewart walked into their apartment and found Natasha’s dead body.”

  “No,” he groaned.

  “Stewart carried Natasha out of the building, and into the mortician’s covered wagon. He rode off with them.”

  “And then came back?”

  “Nope.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yup. I’m not positive, but I think the princess committed suicide.” Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Keeghan thought about the story—the ending. “Either that, or she faked her own death. I’m not sure.”

  “Oh, love. They are supposed to live happily ever after. Did you forget that part?”

  Always sensitive and supportive, he kissed her forehead.

  “You have to let this go and move on. You are supposed to have dreams with happy endings that make you laugh. Sweet dreams.”

  Keeping her eyes open, Keeghan stared at the ceiling. With the sun yet to rise, it was still fairly dark in their room, casting shadows.

  “It is so strange. I’ve never had a dream pick up where it left off before. A dream I can’t control. Alexander was waiting for me.”

  “I’m going to get jealous of this guy if he keeps invading your dreams,” he teased.

  She didn’t respond.

  “You’ve had strange dreams before,” he admitted, his tone serious. “But I’ve never seen one affect you this way. What’s so different about this dream?”

  Keeghan rolled onto her side and looked at William. His head was resting on his pillow. The full moon illuminated the room just enough, she was able to see his face and the compassion in his expression.

  “The detail is amazing. I’m watching and listening as a story unfolds, and I’m feeling their emotions.”

  “You’re normally able to change the outcome of the dream if you don’t like the direction it’s taking. Why didn’t you change this one?”

  “I wish I could. For some reason, I can’t take control. It’s so weird. Oh, by the way, you were with me this time. Date night at a drive-in. You, me, Constable, and this Alexander guy.”

  “At least you’re thinking about me.”

  Keeghan finished the story, and William rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. She could tell he was thinking. After her first dream, Will was convinced it was her imagination. Keeghan couldn’t argue the fact that in her dreams she could twist and turn events of the day, shows she had watched, something she had read, but for some reason, this seemed different.

  “I know you’re finding this a little creepy, but I still say it’s your imagination,” he informed her, turning his head toward her. “Your subconscious is playing tricks on you. I wish I knew what show or magazine you got this from. You’ve missed an important detail to help you give it an ending. To give you closure. Somehow, we have to get your mind onto a different topic. Hmm,” he mumbled, pondering. “I have an idea.” He flipped onto his side, resting his elbow on the mattress, and supported his head with his hand. “We’ll both play hooky. Pack a picnic lunch, and go for a bike ride, a long ride with Constable. I won’t even complain if you sing. We’ll see if we can clear your head and change the topic so you can get a decent sleep tomorrow night.”

  Keeghan appreciated William trying to help, but her mind was working overtime. The dream had captured her curiosity. She wanted the dream to continue. Needed it to continue.

  Oh, I’m so curious. It’s possible Natasha drugged herself using something to temporarily slow down her heart. Natasha woke, and she and Stewart talked. Morticians were sworn to secrecy. If that happened—please let that happen—they will return for Hope, and continue hiding. But what if Natasha is dead? Will Stewart return if she is dead, or will he commit suicide to spend eternity with his wife, the love of his life? Leave his parents to raise their daughter? If he re
turns, what will happen to him and the baby? A widower in his early twenties. He’s still young. Will he allow Anna to see her grandchild? Does he have a choice? Will Natasha’s parents demand custody of little Hope? Way too many unanswered questions.

  “Keegh,” he groaned.

  “Could you walk away from a good book without knowing the ending?” she questioned, knowing Will’s quest for solving problems. “My dream is like a book. I’ve hit the dénouement, but there are still unanswered questions that need to be resolved.”

  “I’ll make up an ending for you during our day out. I have a good imagination too, you know.”

  Keeghan snickered, putting her hands over her eyes. “This should be interesting. Promise me your story will last more than two minutes. It deserves a proper ending.”

  “Let me sleep on this. I’ll put some thought into it,” he promised.

  She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thanks for making me laugh. I love you, Will.”

  After a big yawn, Keeghan rolled over, snuggled into his arms. She thought about their life together and smiled. They’d met in high school, but lost touch, only reconnecting once they were both working. She thought of the night Will embarrassed her, proposing at the restaurant. She recalled their wedding. Sherry was her maid-of-honour, and James the best man, of course. The memory was vivid in her mind. She was so nervous during the ceremony it was actually a blur, but not the honeymoon. She remembered it very well. Relaxing. Romantic. Amazing.

  “I can tell from your breathing you’re not sleeping. What are you thinking about?” Will asked.

  “Us.”

  “Ah, pleasant thoughts. Glad to hear it. What in particular?”

  “The day your grandfather gave me the money to buy my business.”

  “That made for some busy weekends, didn’t it? Renovating the store—I get tired just thinking about that.”

  “You were fantastic. You never uttered a world of complaint about the time required to renovate the boutique or about being tired after a bad week at the bank. I know you would have preferred to spend your weekends doing more enjoyable things.”

  “I was taught patience. For a guy that likes to procrastinate a little, that came back and bit me in the ass. I had to put off something I wanted.”

  “And then your grandpa came through again. Money for your business. It was a real piss off that my dad wouldn’t help us.”

  “He didn’t like me. I wasn’t good enough for his princess.”

  “My silly, silly poppa. Anyway, you were so happy the day you signed the lease and gave your notice at the bank.”

  “My manager was shocked. If they had known what I was doing, I would have been shown to the door. The business grew so fast, I asked Jim to join me, and then, at long last that amazing dinner with your family. A top-ten day in my book. I was about to get a big client and your dad accepted me into the family.”

  “Finally. It took him long enough.”

  “Family get-togethers have seen a huge improvement since that day. I actually look forward to visiting and chatting with your dad. My bucket list was almost complete at that point.”

  “And then, Constable came along. We welcomed a critter into our home, into our hearts. Then the big surprise. There was nothing wrong with our house, but it wasn’t this place.”

  “Nope. It wasn’t Keeghan’s dream home. I remember thinking ‘Something in the country. Keegh loves the ocean so waterfront would be perfect.’ I aim to please, love. I’m glad you were having a slow day and playing on the net. I still remember that e-mail. One look at the pictures and virtual tour and I knew we’d be putting an offer in.”

  “Life is good.” She yawned and closed her eyes. She was smiling as she drifted off to sleep.

  Keeghan’s Dream

  Entering dreamland, Alexander appeared out of a pearly mist.

  Keeghan held Will’s hand as they ran toward the tree where Alexander waited. She sat beside her storyteller, and Will settled beside her. Constable sniffed Alexander and sat between her masters.

  “What a terrible way to end the story. Please tell me Natasha faked her suicide. That she found happiness with Stewart. I liked her. ”

  “We shall continue,” Alexander promised.

  Chapter Two

  Willard woke early and dressed in silence. The long night was over, but the day loomed ahead. Hope cried most of the night. He had heard both his wife and daughter attempt to console her. Everyone needed more sleep. He opened the door to Vicki’s room. Relieved she was still sleeping, he closed the door and moved further down the hall. Eliza was sleeping on her side with Hope tucked into a small ball at the foot of the bed. He covered Hope with the blanket and closed the door, leaving the room.

  Once on the main level, he crouched down to greet Goldie, and then opened the door to let her out.

  Within the hour, Hope’s voice came from the upper level. Then the three females in his life descended the steps. Vicki took Hope into the kitchen.

  “Stewart did not return home?” Eliza’s discouragement showed in her tone.

  “Nay.” He placed his mug of coffee on the dining room table. “I hoped he would arrive through the night.”

  “As did I.” She yawned, covering her mouth.

  “It would be wise for you to rest when Hope is down for her nap.”

  “Indeed, I shall. I sleep with you by my side. Not with a child.”

  Willard followed Eliza into the kitchen for breakfast.

  * * *

  Willard was busy chopping wood when Eliza came out and walked toward him. He rested the head of the axe on the stump.

  “It worries me we have not heard from Stewart. Would we be informed if he has ended his life?”

  He set the axe on the ground and embraced his wife.

  “I doubt he’s left Natasha’s body. Assuming our son is still alive, the morticians must wait. If he ended his life, Nanny would have been notified.” Pulling back, he looked into her eyes. “Common sense tells me our son is grieving, but will return to his family—to his daughter. We must have faith.”

  “I pray you’re right. I love Hope, but fear I lack the energy to be a momma to a three-year-old child. I cherished the years I raised our children, but appreciate some solitude now that Vicki is grown.”

  “Go to our bedroom and rest, my darling.” He gave her a gentle caress with his lips. “Vicki and I will tend to Hope when she wakes.”

  A few hours later, Vicki and Eliza prepared supper, and then Vicki read Hope a bedtime story. Sensing something was wrong, Goldie stayed on the main floor for a second night.

  * * *

  Stewart shook hands with the driver of the buggy.

  Woof.

  Goldie. Give me a minute, girl. Stewart turned. Narrowing his eyes against the early morning sun, he glanced toward his parents’ house. Poppa appeared at the parlour window. As he shuffled his way toward the entrance, the door flew open. Poppa had a firm grip on Goldie’s collar, holding the excited dog back as her tail wagged enthusiastically. Struggling to keep his heavy eyes open, Stewart stumbled up the front steps. He bent to greet the dog, rubbing her head. He surrendered to the warmth of Poppa’s embrace and entered the house. The aroma of coffee registered in his mind. Normally he inhaled that with delight, but that was not the case this time. The very thought of breakfast, frying eggs and bacon, turned his virtually empty stomach. Stewart needed sleep, but was that possible? Hope would expect to spend time with him, and he missed her. Goldie sat by his feet. The house was silent except for the beat of Goldie’s tail on the floor. There was no sign of life when he looked up the staircase.

  “Where’s Hope? Like Natasha, she rises with the dawn. Where is Momma?”

  “They are sleeping. The hour was late when Hope finally settled. We have had two restless nights.”

  Guilt-ridden, his heart sank. Stewart dropped his gaze to the ground. “I owe you, Momma, and Vicki, an apology. Hope is my daughter. My responsibility.”

  “There is no nee
d. We are simply thankful for your return.”

  “I required time to come to terms with everything,” Stewart informed Poppa as he leaned against the wall in the hall. “I am angry, and hurt, and shocked. I don’t possess the proper words to express my emotions. I’m unable to comprehend how Natasha could take her life and leave our daughter. Leave me.”

  “We were frightened you might consider …,” he paused.

  “To be frank, I did consider taking my own life,” Stewart admitted, not allowing his father to finish his sentence. “But our daughter deserves her poppa. Hope didn’t ask to enter this world. I never considered leaving Natasha’s side when I discovered she was with child. I chose to remain with Natasha, marry her and raise the baby we created. I will never regret that decision. My daughter is blood of my blood, bone of my bone. She will know me. I pray she will forgive me for deserting her as she grieved for her momma.” He took a deep breath, struggling with his emotions. His eyelids fought to close, but he owed Poppa an explanation, and he needed to share his plans for the future. “It’s my plan to return to school to complete my masters, but I’ll require assistance with Hope.”

  Poppa’s lips curled into a smile.

  “You’ll have our support, Stewart. It’s pleasing to hear you plan to finish your education. Your dream has always been to become an architect and engineer. I would suggest you join me in the parlour to continue this conversation, but you look dreadful. Have you slept?”

  “Nay. I sat with Natasha’s head upon my lap. I talked to her, and I wept. Food was brought to me, but I lacked any appetite.”

  “You’re exhausted. You need to rest, and eat. I will ask Eliza to prepare a tray to be left in your room. I don’t expect to see you until our evening meal. We will care for Hope until you rise.”