Laine Sibley returns to Michigan for a new job, but most of all, to be near her five-year old niece and her estranged sister, dying of cancer. Struggling with faith issues and forgiveness, following her sister’s death, Laine finds companionship and support from her neighbor, Jeffrey Rice. As Laine and Jeff’s feelings blossom into a romance, Laine’s life unravels. As she seeks solutions to her problems, she even doubts Jeff’s honesty until the pieces of the puzzle fall into place and their love and faith shine through the darkness.
This novel is part of the Heartsong Presents Book Club. If you would like an autographed copy of SECRETS WITHIN see the ORDER FORM.
The secrets of his heart will be laid bare, so he will fall
down and worship God.
1 Cor 14:24-25
SECRETS WITHIN
Author: Gail Gaymer Martin
Barbour Publishing
Heartsong Presents
Review by Lesa Boutin - CWWC
What's better than a romance by Gail Gaymer Martin? An intriguing,
suspense spiked romance by Gail Gaymer Martin. But Martin hasn't stop
there. She's trussed it up with a bit of guilty conscience, sibling
rivalry, and a dash of deception.
After the death of her sister, Laine Sibley is left to
care for her niece, Becca. How can she possibly meet the needs of a
five-year-old little girl? Help comes in the form of her attractive,
personable neighbor, Jeff Rice. He's good with Becca and kind to Laine.
He 'seems' practically perfect. But things aren't always what they 'seem'.
Question - when is a secret no longer a secret? Answer - when it's a lie.
Becca's grandmother wants custody of her all as Laine discovers the people
around her aren't who they claim to be. Laine finds herself in a tangle of
dissimulation and treachery. What's worse, Laine realizes she's in love with a
man who's lied to her. The man, that it now seems, may have pulled her
into this maelstrom of treachery
Excerpt Chapter One
Laine Sibley closed her eyes and drew in a ragged breath as she pressed her ear to the telephone. Her sister’s voice met her in tired, hesitant gasps, and tears pressed against the back of Laine’s eyes.
"You’re okay, then, Kathleen?" Laine asked, controlling her quivering voice.
"Mavis is here. Don’t worry."
Mavis Dexter had become Kathleen’s second mother. She tended her and Becca with untiring hands. Laine closed her eyes, wondering what it might be like to give that much of oneself for someone else. Lifting her lids, she looked through the window and focused on Moon Lake’s sun-speckled ripples a few yards from her front door. "Kiss Becca for me, and I’ll see you both later."
Laine sat suspended for a moment, then pulled the phone from her ear like an afterthought and placed it on the receiver. Her sister’s illness seemed more than she could bear.
Kathleen’s five-year old daughter, Rebecca with her dark waving hair and ivory skin, hung in Laine’s mind. The child was the image of her Irish father killed in a plane crash. Becca’s sad, blue eyes rose in Laine’s memory, and she ached for the child and for her own desperate sorrow.
Guilt lay heavy on Laine’s chest, and she wished she could erase the terrible feelings of anger and envy she’d felt too often in years past. Her bitter, jealous words aimed at her younger sister weighed on her shoulders like a hulking beast.
Pushing the memories aside, Laine rose from the chair and drained the last swallow of her cold coffee. After setting the cup in the sink, she turned, bracing her back against the kitchen counter and, again, regarded the golden flecks of sunlight blinking on the lake. Air is what she needed. Fresh air and a few moments to calm her pulsing heart.
A rowboat tied to the small wooden dock bobbed in the morning sunlight. Why not? she asked herself. Since she’d moved back to Michigan and into the condominium a week earlier, she hadn’t gone near the water, except for the day she was guided through the rental by the agent. Adjusting to her new position at Artistic Interiors and organizing her belongings had taken all her time. On her first free Sunday morning, she could use a distraction, something pleasant like a few relaxing moments on the lake.
Pulling her make-up bag from her purse, she glimpsed in the hall mirror and dashed a frosty orange along the bow of her lips. Scrutinizing her appearance, she decided she’d make do. Who would she impress this early in the morning anyway? People with any sense at all were still dawdling on the edge of sleep.
Stepping onto her screened porch, she locked the condo door and dropped the key into the pocket of her walking shorts. The oars lay along the porch wall, and she grabbed them and maneuvered the pair through the doorway and down the two steps to the outside. As she marched toward the path leading to the dock, she heard the screen door swish closed behind her.
When Laine reached the water, a warm June breeze curled along her bare skin and her sneakers gripped the rough dock boards with a punctuating thud. The small rowboat appeared safe enough, and she slid the paddles into the oarlocks. Grabbing the side of the boat, Laine slipped off the rope tethering the stern, then holding the boat fast, she inched her way forward toward the front mooring.
As she clutched the dock pole, she edged one limb into the dinghy, but the momentum shifted the rowboat from the pier. With a gasp, she clutched the mooring to no avail. The dinghy continued its journey, and her yell echoed across the quiet water while she clung to the piling with her left foot on the dock and her right foot in the drifting boat.
As the inevitable rose to meet her, a strong masculine voice struck her ear. "Hang on."
But his encouragement came too late, and she belly-flopped into the cold, sea weedy water. As she bobbed to the surface, smiling, hazel eyes greeted her, and the same full-throated voice teased, "Good morning. Decided to take an early dip, I see."
"‘Decided’ isn’t quite the word," Laine mumbled as he reached out to her. She grasped his hand, and with one heave, he lifted her to the dock, dripping with water and greenish-brown seaweed.
When she had the courage to look at him, his amusement sent her mortification packing. She laughed at herself and her wasted effort, recalling the feeble swipe of the lipstick tube moments earlier.
"Nice to see you have a sense of humor," he said. But his expression became serious as he eyed her from head to toe. "Anything hurt?"
"Only my pride." Laine extended her brackish hand. "Thanks for the save. I’m Laine Sibley."
"Laine. Nice name." His lightly-stubbled square jaw returned to its friendly smile. I’m Jeff . . . Jeff Rice, your neighbor."
With her humiliation in check, Laine focused on the good-looking man standing beside her. A rust knit-shirt stretched across his broad-chest and hung part way down his a beige-colored swimsuit. A full-head of tawny hair lay in casual waves framing his square face. Raising her eyes to his, she caught a flash of curiosity.
"Well, that’s it for a relaxing drift on the lake," she said. "The algae and I should go rinse off."
He caught a belt loop with his thumb, glancing across the "once-again" undisturbed lake. "Why miss the boat ride? I’ll wait while you clean up and, then, keep you company . . . unless you’d rather go out alone." He paused.
Laine took a faltering step backward. "No, I’ll . . ." She glanced toward the condo. "I’ll be only a couple of minutes." She swung around and dashed up the walk.
Jeff grinned as the attractive blonde trotted up the walk, leaving a wet trail behind her. Despite the mermaid disguise, her beauty was evident. When he’d come to her rescue, her peacock blue eyes caught him off-guard. When she bobbed to the surface, his heart skipped a beat. Add to those eyes her smooth, creamy skin and bowed lips, her face resembled the antique China doll he’d found in his mother’s attic after she died.
The memory tightened in his belly, and he pushed the thoughts aside and refocused on the woman. Delicate featured, yes, but he sensed she was no fragile toy. Her broad shoulders tapering to strong legs disclosed the body of a capable athlete. Swimmer, he guessed.
Admiring her, he jolted when she turned around and darted back down the path.
"My key," she called, pointing to the lake.
A moment passed before he understood. But when her foot sounded on the wooden boards, he was already peering into the dark water, hoping to catch the glint of her key in the shadows.
"How stupid." She knelt beside him, squinting into the water. "See anything? I had it in my pocket."
His vision sought the murky lake bottom. "Just a key?"
"On a chain," she answered.
Something pale glinted beneath the surface. "Is there white on the chain?"
"Uh-huh. Do you see it?"
"I think so." He hadn’t anticipated jumping into the shore water, preferring the clearer water by the raft, but how could he ignore a woman in distress? He rose and tugged the knit shirt over his head.
Noticing, she bolted upward. "No, I’m already wet and dirty. Show me where, and I’ll get it."
He ignored her plea, but before he could detain her, she leaped into the murky water with him. Grabbing the key chain from the sludgy bottom, he rose to the surface. Below in the water, her honey-colored hair splayed about her like silken threads.
When she bounced upward, she peered at him, then at the chain dangling from his fingers. "Why did you do that? I didn’t want you to get wet."
"No problem." He forced a gallant pose. "I’d planned to swim anyway, but from the raft." He stared off at the sparkling water further out in the lake, then handed her the key with a chuckle. "Now, if you’d still like to go for that boat ride, I’ll meet you back here in a couple of minutes."
© 2001 Gail Gaymer Martin