Note: The following is an excerpt from Book 4. Many surprises regarding Paige’s mother, Martha Hamilton as the story continues.
A Separate Heaven
A Buried Past
Martha Hamilton shook her head as she poured herself a drink of scotch. None of those flavored ladies cocktails for her. She settled comfortably into a large arm chair and sipped her drink as she stared out the large bay window into the darkness. Her husband had gone to bed early tonight. He was probably reading and not yet asleep, but she didn’t feel up to sharing the news she’d received from Paige only a short time before.
Paige. Even the thought of her daughter brought forth a flood of emotions andcaused Martha to close her eyes. There were rare moments when she forced herself to examine the situation and this was one of them, but as always, in her mind, Paige was to blame for the miseries the family had suffered. They had indeed had their beginning with Paige.
In most ways, Martha had found her marriage to Paul Hamilton satisfactory. She had expected it to be that way from the beginning. That was why she’d married him. He was a “catch”—handsome, intelligent, from a good family. A man certain to be a good provider, a man with ethics who would never shame or embarrass her, and he had proved to be all those things.
She had liked him, cared for him, but she had never thought she was in love with him. What did love have to do with marriage anyway? Her own mother had hammered it into her that you didn’t marry someone simply because you thought you loved them. There were other things to consider.
And while their relationship could never have been described as passion-filled or exciting, for seventeen years she’d never found anything disagreeable about it. Not until she met Preston Slator—and that had changed everything.
The liquor was working its magic and she let her mind drift back in time, to June 1957,