When tomorrow comes, p.1
When Tomorrow Comes, page 1

When Tomorrow Comes
Synopsis
Teague Maxwell, a brilliant, reclusive inventor, knows two things about herself—she prefers the company of animals, and she will die in the next year following her fortieth birthday. Resigned to the inevitable, she hires Baye Cobb from a local pet rescue to find new homes for her menagerie of pets.
When Baye decided to turn her late grandmother’s farm into an animal rescue operation, she had no idea so many animals would land on her doorstep. In dire need of more funding, more space and much better business management, Baye has no choice but to accept the lucrative offer from Teague—her very eccentric, but largest, donor. She agrees to help rehome Teague’s pets despite her disgust for someone who would adopt so many animals, only to rehome all of them.
Neither woman expects Teague’s desperation and Baye’s disapproval to explode into undeniable attraction. The more time they spend together, the more they realize it’s not just animals Baye is adept at saving—she could be the one to rescue Teague from her catastrophic fate.
Praise for D. Jackson Leigh
Unbridled
“A hot, steamy, erotic romance mystery with edge, exciting twists and turns, great characters and an unforgettable story that I was completely invested in. It was difficult to put the book down and I thoroughly enjoyed the whole experience of reading it!”—LESBIReviewed
Blades of Bluegrass
“Both lead characters, Britt and Teddy, were well developed and likeable. I also really enjoyed the supporting characters, like E.B., and the warm, familiar atmosphere the author managed to create at Story Hill Farm.”—Melina Bickard, Librarian, Waterloo Library (UK)
Ordinary Is Perfect
“There’s something incredibly charming about this small town romance, which features a vet with PTSD and a workaholic marketing guru as a fish out of water in the quiet town. But it’s the details of this novel that make it shine.”—Pink Heart Society
Take a Chance
“I really enjoyed the character dynamic with this book of two very strong independent women who aren’t looking for love but fall for the one they already love…The chemistry and dynamic between these two is fantastic and becomes even more intense when their sexual desires take over.”—Les Rêveur
Dragon Horse War
“Leigh writes with an emotion that she in turn gives to the characters, allowing us insight into their personalities and their very souls. Filled with fantastic imagery and the down-to-earth flaws that are sometimes the characters’ greatest strengths, this first Dragon Horse War is a story not to be missed. The writing is flawless, the story, breath-taking—and this is only the beginning.”—Lambda Literary Review
“The premise is original, the fantasy element is gripping but relevant to our times, the characters come to life, and the writing is phenomenal. It’s the author’s best work to date and I could not put it down.”—Melina Bickard, Librarian, Waterloo Library (UK)
“Already an accomplished author of many romances, Leigh takes on fantasy and comes up aces…So, even if fantasy isn’t quite your thing, you should give this a try. Leigh’s backdrop is a world you already recognize with some slight differences, and the characters are marvelous. There’s a villain, a love story, and…ah yes, ‘thar be dragons.’”—Out in Print: Queer Book Reviews
“This book is great for those that like romance with a hint of fantasy and adventure.”—The Lesbrary
“Skin Walkers” in Women of the Dark Streets
“When love persists through many lifetimes, there is always the potential magic of reunion. Climactically resplendent!”—Rainbow Book Reviews
Swelter
“I don’t think there is a single book D. Jackson Leigh has written that I don’t like…I recommend this book if you want a nice romance mixed with a little suspense.”—Kris Johnson, Texas Library Association
“This book is a great mix of romance, action, angst, and emotional drama…The first half of the book focuses on the budding relationship between the two women, and the gradual revealing of secrets. The second half ramps up the action side of things…There were some good sexy scenes, and also an appropriate amount of angst and introspection by both women as feelings more than just the physical started to surface.”—Rainbow Book Reviews
Call Me Softly
“Call Me Softly is a thrilling and enthralling novel of love, lies, intrigue, and Southern charm.”—Bibliophilic Book Blog
Touch Me Gently
“D. Jackson Leigh understands the value of branding, and delivers more of the familiar and welcome story elements that set her novels apart from other authors in the romance genre.”—Rainbow Reader
Every Second Counts
“Her prose is clean, lean, and mean—elegantly descriptive.”—Out in Print: Queer Book Reviews
Riding Passion
“The sex was always hot and the relationships were realistic, each with their difficulties. The technical writing style was impeccable, ranging from poetic to more straightforward and simple. The entire anthology was a demonstration of Leigh’s considerable abilities.”—2015 Rainbow Awards
When Tomorrow Comes
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By the Author
Romance
Call Me Softly
Touch Me Gently
Hold Me Forever
Swelter
Take a Chance
Ordinary Is Perfect
Blades of Bluegrass
Unbridled
Forever Comes in Threes
Here for You
When Tomorrow Comes
Cherokee Falls Series
Bareback
Long Shot
Every Second Counts
Dragon Horse War Trilogy
The Calling
Tracker and the Spy
Seer and the Shield
Short story collection
Riding Passion
When Tomorrow Comes
© 2024 By D. Jackson Leigh. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-63679-558-4
This Electronic Original Is Published By
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, NY 12185
First Edition: February 2024
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Shelley Thrasher
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover Design by Tammy Seidick
eBook Design by Toni Whitaker
Acknowledgments
As always, thanks to my awesome editor, Shelley Thrasher. I can always trust her to make my stories better.
Chapter One
The cloudless blue sky and the lush green lawn dotted with pink and white flowering trees was a sharp contrast to the funeral procession disgorging passengers clad mostly in black and solemn shades of gray.
Teague Maxwell stood uphill from the gravesite, apart from the mourners gathering for a final farewell. She spent little time with her extended family, but at least half of them had been irritatingly attentive to her at the funeral, while the other half cast furtive glances her way. Nephew Donnie was thinking about getting a pig for a pet, so could he come to her house and meet her pig? Aunt Roberta was so sorry she hadn’t checked in to see if Teague was doing okay since her parents died. Cousin Leon wanted to know if he could drop by and see what interesting project she was currently working on.
Her extended family mostly treated her like an oddity, and none had ever visited her estate after her parents died. She didn’t mind that they avoided her, since most of them were dull and stupid. So why did they want to pester her now? She was keeping her distance from those pesky relatives at the graveside and already had decided to skip the potluck gathering at her deceased cousin’s home. She didn’t like crowds. The funeral was okay because they sat in orderly rows. Her anxiety grew, though, when they were milling around her afterward. Too many people.
She closed her eyes and pulled in a long breath of pollen-laden spring air as numbers and symbols in one long, comforting equation filled her mind. The numbers still didn’t add up, but she was close to a breakthrough and had learned over the years to listen to her intuition.
“Hello? Earth to Teague.”
She jerked back from the bony fingers waving inches away from her face. “Aunt Margaret.” She smiled and playfully swatted her great-aunt’s hand away. “Maybe I was praying for my cousin’s soul. Your interruption might keep him in purgatory for a millennium.”
“Ha. You’re an agnostic. You’ve never prayed in your life.”
The irreverent, sometimes crotchety old woman was the one relative Teague did like. “Okay. I zoned out for a minute, thinking about wor k.”
“Ha, more like the fifteen minutes it took for me to hobble up this hill without you noticing.” Ninety-two years had shrunk and bent her great-aunt’s petite frame and diminished her tolerance for social niceties, but they had failed to dull her razor-sharp mind. “NASA need a new toilet for that space station?”
Teague frowned. “Why would they need a new toilet design? The one they have works perfectly well.”
Margaret shook her head. “I’ve always said God left out the part of your brain that recognizes humor and used that space in your skull to pack in more analytic cells.”
“Those analytic brain cells help me solve problems nobody else can.”
“Little use for modesty either, I see.” Her aunt’s chuckle assured her this was a tease, not a barb. “Your honesty is so refreshing.” She held out her arms. “I know you don’t like hugs, but I don’t have many years left to steal them from you.”
She steeled herself and stepped into her aunt’s embrace, then relaxed as Margaret’s deceptively strong arms tightened around her for a full minute. She didn’t like people touching her, but firm, prolonged pressure could be strangely calming. Margaret knew that.
Teague had been diagnosed when a child as high-functioning on the autism scale. While she normally obsessed over adhering to the same daily routine, she also could lose herself in a project and forget to shower, eat, or sleep for days. And she had trouble recognizing emotions on the faces of other people. But she was okay with her idiosyncrasies. Most people accepted her quirks as side effects of her genius.
“I can’t believe in this world of modern medicine, we still have family members succumbing to the Maxwell curse,” Margaret said before releasing her.
While it wasn’t unusual for some diseases to be inherited, most of the Maxwells had died of brain or aortic aneurysms. Teague shivered. The idea of a curse wasn’t logical, but the fact that all died during the year following their fortieth birthday was tough to ignore. “Cousin Bernard was looking rather pale at the funeral service. I figure he’s somewhere in his late thirties.”
Margaret peered up at her. “How old are you?”
“I’ll turn forty in a few days, but I’m not worried. I was adopted.”
“Shit a brick.”
Teague turned to Margaret, surprised at her rare use of profanity. “I beg your pardon?”
Margaret adjusted her broad-brimmed, lacy hat, then thumped her cane on the ground several times. “I can’t believe your parents never talked to you about your biological parents,” she said, still thumping her cane. “This entire family is a bunch of spineless idiots.”
“Aunt Margaret.” Teague narrowed her eyes and stared hard at her aunt. “What do you know that you aren’t telling me?”
* * *
Baye Cobb plucked the adventurous kitten from her shoulder. “Ow, little guy. Your claws are sharp.” She put him on the floor next to his littermates while she watched. “Go play with your siblings.” Her voice was stern but turned to giggles when the kitten pounced on another one and scrambled up her back again to rub his chin against her cheek. “No fair. Sucking up to me won’t get you extra kibble.”
“There you are! Damn it, Baye. Don’t tell me you’ve taken in another litter. We’re already overflowing with kittens.” Baye’s cousin, Libby, stood in the doorway of the room used to quarantine new feline arrivals until they could be tested for diseases.
Baye pulled the kitten from her shoulder again and cuddled him in her arms. “The guy said he was going to sell them to somebody who owns a really big snake if we didn’t take them off his hands. What else could I do?”
“Really?” Libby eyed her suspiciously. “You could report him to animal control and turn the cats over to the county shelter.”
Baye clutched the kitten tighter and began to gather the other four in her arms. She gave her cousin a beseeching look and squeezed out a single tear big enough to trickle down her cheek. She found the tear a valuable tool for getting what she wanted and could produce it on command. “I could never leave an animal at that nasty place. Besides, they’d kill them after a few weeks if they weren’t adopted. You know that.”
“I know it’s almost noon, and you haven’t finished the morning feeding.”
“I was just about done when that guy showed up with the kittens, and I guess these little cuties distracted me.” She began to gently place the kittens in a large wire crate that held a cuddly blanket and a small water bowl.
“You aren’t almost done. You haven’t taken care of at least half of the indoor animals, and none of the outdoor ones.”
Oops. Libby must have built up an immunity to the tear. “I’ll go finish now.”
Libby seemed to deflate with a long, audible sigh and shook her head. “Don’t bother. I finished for you.” She grabbed one of the kittens Baye hadn’t corralled yet and sat on the floor to cuddle it. “We’ve spent the monthly allotment for animal food already, and all the utility bills are at least a month behind, not to mention what we owe the vet. The monthly allowance from the trust should be more than enough. What did you spend the money on?”
Baye hated that she was always disappointing people. “I don’t know where all the money goes.”
Libby put the kitten in the crate with the rest. “It’s not just where the money’s going. It’s also not coming in. We knew from the beginning that the trust fund wouldn’t cover all our expenses. That’s why we filed to be a nonprofit, which we apparently excel at since we’ve never even met budget, much less made a profit.”
When their lesbian, unmarried aunt died, she had left her twenty-acre farm to Baye, her only gay niece, and Libby, the only family member who hadn’t given up hope Baye could learn to manage her ADHD impulsiveness. A trust fund provided them each a modest monthly allowance, and a third allotment paid her aunt’s longtime gardener’s salary and expenses to maintain the farm property. The acreage was too small to be profitable as a farm, so they embarked on Baye’s dream of turning it into an animal-rescue center. They only needed to break even on the rescue center, but lately the operation expenses had been eating all the farm’s allowance, plus their personal allotments.
“We’ve been getting lots of applications to adopt since I put up the website,” Baye said, hoping to wiggle out of this uncomfortable conversation.
“Yes, because you did an awesome job building the website. You’re crazy smart and creative, but it took you a year to finish it. Besides, the website’s useless if you don’t read the adoption applications and respond. They just keep piling up on the dining room table.”
“We can look at them together after dinner.”
Libby took Baye’s hands in hers. “Honey, I love you, but you need to try to focus enough to finish at least one thing without me.” Libby withdrew her hands. “Besides, I start a part-time job this afternoon. I have my own bills to pay.”
Baye frowned. “You could save money if you moved into the farmhouse with me.”
Libby shook her head. “No way. As much as I love you, I cannot live in your mess and clutter. I’d get tired of picking up your fast-food containers and doing all the housework, and I’d grow to resent you. I love you too much to let that happen.”
Baye wanted to promise she’d clean up after herself, but she and Libby both knew she’d be distracted by a million other things after only a few weeks. She’d lost roommate after roommate because of week-old—sometimes month-old—fast-food containers and laundry covering every surface of the house. She loved a clean house, but she could never stay focused long enough to keep it that way. She nodded after Libby had so frankly declined her offer. Libby was one of the few real friends she had. She couldn’t risk losing her, too. “Okay. I love you, too.”
Libby stood and pulled on her hand for Baye to stand and accept a tight hug. “I’m going to work, and you should read and respond to some of those applications. We need the adoption fees to buy animal feed for the rest of the month and pay the utility bills so your electricity and gas aren’t shut off again.”









