Read Leaving Carolina Online

Authors: Tamara Leigh

Tags: #Christian Fiction

Leaving Carolina

Praise for
Leaving Carolina

“Tamara Leigh always manages to wrap biblical truth in a fun, light-hearted package.
Leaving Carolina
reminds us that the good stuff may require a little digging. This wonderful romance does not disappoint.”

—K
RISTIN
B
ILLERBECK
, author
of What a Girl Wants

“Want to be drawn into a story rather than just reading it? Then allow me to suggest Tamara Leigh’s
Leaving Carolina
as your next ‘gotta have it’ story—because this is more than just a novel. It’s an adventure. It’s entertainment. It’s why you turn off the TV and pick up a really good book!”

—E
VA
M
ARIE
E
VERSON
, author of
Things Left Unspoken

“Tamara Leigh is a must-read for laugh-out-loud humor and soul-bearing honesty!
And Leaving Carolina
is classic Tamara Leigh, with quirky Southern characters, feel-good giggles, and many deep truths to ponder. Come spend some delightful hours in Pickwick, North Carolina, and see why
Leaving Carolina
has a bright spot on my keeper shelf.”

—A
MY
W
ALLACE
, author of
Enduring Justice
, Book 3 in the Defenders of Hope series

“This is definitely a book I would recommend to my friends. Piper Pickwick is charming!”

—E
RYNN
M
ANGUM,
author of
Miss Match

“Of all Tamara Leigh’s novels, this one is my favorite so far! The colorful characters in Pickwick invited me to sit down to Sunday brunch and dig into the biscuits and gravy! A fun novel not to be missed!”

—C
AMY
T
ANG
, author of
Single Sashimi
and
Deadly Intent

“Leaving Carolina
is a soul-stirring sip of inspiration. With a Southern twist, Leigh draws us back to core values sweetened with a hint of romance. Good to the last drop!”

—L
OIS
R
ICHER
, author
of A Ring and a Promise

“Leaving Carolina
is the first book in Tamara Leigh’s Southern Discomfort Series, and I can’t wait to get my hands on the next one! Leigh’s cast of eccentric down-home characters, her warm-hearted and harried protagonist, and her charming Southern style provide readers with a story that is warm, witty, and wise.”

—M
ARTA
P
ERRY
, author of
Twice in a Lifetime
and
Leah’s Choice

“Leaving Carolina
was a joy to read. It is delightfully funny, heart tugging, and honest. Tamara has a unique voice, a wonderful way with words, and has created a memorable story with great characters. I loved it, and I am looking forward to her next book.”

—P
ATRICIA
H. R
USHFORD
, author, speaker, and OCW Summer Conference Director

A
LSO BY
T
AMARA
L
EIGH

Faking Grace

Splitting Harriet

Perfecting Kate

Stealing Adda

To my mother, Zola Mae, who gave me my Southern roots, pouring out love, wisdom, and discipline in her silky Southern drawl and serving up pickled corn, biscuits and gravy, and tomato and mayonnaise sandwiches straight out of her mama’s kitchen
.

Yes, Mom, I always wear clean you-know-whats in case of an accident; I work at remembering that if a lady can’t say anything nice, she shouldn’t say anything at all; and I haven’t forgotten my “Yes ma’ams” and “No ma’ams.” I hope I’ve made you proud
.

He who conceals his sins does not prosper, but whoever confesses and renounces them finds mercy
.

—P
ROVERBS
28:13

1

F
amily is rarely convenient. Case in point: Uncle Obadiah Horace Pickwick. Despite his summons to discuss his will, likely brought on by hospitalization for chest pains, I won’t be flying to Pickwick, North Carolina. As I explained to his ancient attorney before he put me on hold, as much as I like my uncle, I can’t get out from under my work load on such short notice.

Of course, neither am I ready to return to the town I escaped twelve years ago.

Staring at the phone on my desk, I will Artemis Bleeker to return to the line, but the music continues to drone from the speakerphone.
Whine, whine
. “Oh ma darlin’…”
Groan, groan
. “You left me standin’ here…”
Wah, wah
. “Left me starin’ after you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I flop back in my chair. “Cry me a river.”

“Well, ma dear”—the nasal voice drops several octaves—“I’m back.”

I roll my eyes. “Nice lyrics.”

“What’d ya say, Piper?”

It’s him! I grab the receiver. “Mr. Bleeker—”

“You’re no longer a little girl, Piper Pickwick. Do address me by ma first name.”

As he had asked me to do when I took his call, after which I
politely informed him I had dropped the “Pick” part of my name. Though he spluttered over my “butcherin’” of the family name, I didn’t defend myself. But had I, my defense would have been based more on the Pickwicks’ scandalous reputation than on the nursery-rhyme alliteration that plagued me through my school years.

Piper
Wick
clears her throat. “Thank you, Artemis. I’ll try to remember that. So you said the doctors are running more tests to determine the cause of Uncle Obe’s chest pains.”

“They are, but your uncle is certain it’s heart failure. And a man knows his own body. Um-hmm.”

“But so far the tests have come back negative.”

“These things can be elusive.”

Especially when it’s simply indigestion. Certain that has to be it, I’m relieved. I spent little time in my uncle’s presence, but he was never unkind to me, unlike the other Pickwicks.

You are over that. It’s Uncle Obe we’re talking about—a black sheep like you
.

True, not only did he increasingly shun society the older he got, even forgoing marriage, but unlike his three brothers, he was always upstanding. Not a smidgen of inappropriate behavior—at least in the “criminal” sense. Now in the “odd” sense…

“Uh, what was Uncle Obe doing when he started having chest pains?”

“Just sittin’ in his hospital bed watchin’ a rerun—”

“He was in the hospital when he
started to
have chest pains?”

“What?” Artemis barks. “Ya think a man his age survives such a terrible accident without payin’ a price?”

Where is Scripture when I need it? Not committed to memory
like I encourage my Christian clients. Fortunately, something of an alternative exists, Band-Aid strength though it may be: close eyes, breathe slowly through the nose, exhale slowly from the mouth…

“Piper! Did I lose ya?”

I clap a hand to my chest. Was Artemis booming when Uncle Obe’s chest pains started? “I’m just wondering why you didn’t say anything about an accident.”

“’Course I did.”

He’s old. Very old. And should have retired from practicing law years ago! “I’m sorry, but would you go over it again?”

He sighs. “Your uncle was in a head-on.”

Dear Lord!

“He was thrown clear but sustained cuts and bruises and messed up his knee. Unfortunately, it didn’t go so well for Roy. He had to be put down.”

“What?”

“Cryin’ shame. Of course, he wasn’t much use, what with them cataracts and that incontinence problem.”

Hold up. This is Pickwick, North Carolina. All is not as it seems. “Is Roy a… dog?”

“Ya all right, Piper? You’re not into drugs like all them folks out there in Hollywood, are ya?”

I will not bang my head. “It’s been a long day. So Uncle Obe hit a dog with his car.”

“Ya don’t listen too well, do ya? He hit the dog with his
golf cart.”

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