The Keeper of Stars

THE KEEPER OF STARS A NOVEL BUCK TURNER Copyright © 2023 by Buck Turner All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Created with Vellum This book is dedicated to my grandparents, Ray and Muriel Cooper, with love. Thank you for introducing me to the lake, and for providing me a glimpse into your world. Though you may be gone, the memories I have of warm summer mornings spent trolling the waters of Douglas Lake remain, and I will cherish them all the days of my life. CONTENTS THANK YOU FOR PURCHASING THIS BOOK Prologue Part I SUMMER Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Part II WINTER Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Part III SPRING Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Epilogue PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW/SHARE ON SOCIAL MEDIA THANK YOU FOR PURCHASING THIS BOOK To receive the latest news and info, or to join Buck’s team of beta readers, please go to: www.buckturner.com PROLOGUE You don’t find love. It finds you. It’s got a little bit to do with destiny, fate, and what’s written in the stars. —Anais Nin May 2020 They say our lives are written in the stars, that our fate is predetermined. But after the life I’ve lived and the things I’ve seen, I can honestly say that we are the authors of our own destiny, endowed by the Almighty with the power to choose our own paths, and, when necessary, to rewrite the stars. Tonight, I sit alone under a chilly Tennessee sky. My only company, aside from a crackling fire and a glass of Jack Daniels, is a chorus of crickets and bullfrogs. It is PART I SUMMER CHAPTER ONE Gully Washer May 1950 “Jack, if you get us killed, so help me God…” The storm that had been building in the western sky rolled east, and a column of low, swirling clouds swept up the valley, blotting out the sun. By the looks of things, this was going to be a gully washer, which meant Jack Bennett had one shot at getting the motor to turn over. Otherwise he and his passenger would have to ride out the storm on Rock Island. With the last bolt tightened, Jack turned and shouted into the wind. “All right, George, here goes nothing.” Bracing himself, Jack pressed one hand firmly against the engine, grabbed