Amy Parrish was the
only woman Jesse McCord
ever loved.
Now she’s back in town—
but an unseen enemy is
fast closing in…
Please turn this page
for an excerpt from
The first book in the trilogy, and
discover how it all began.
Available now.
In the kitchen Jesse loosened his tie and poured himself a tumbler of Irish whiskey. Like his grandfather, he wasn’t much of a drinker. But every New Year, and at the annual roundup barbecue, Coot would pour a round of whiskeys for himself and the crew, and offer a toast to the future.
“Life’s all about the road ahead. What’s past is past. Here’s to what’s around the bend, boys.”
Jesse could hear his grandfather’s voice as clearly as if he’d been standing right there. There had been a boyish curiosity about the old man that was so endearing. He’d truly believed he would live to find his ancestor’s fortune. The anticipation, the thrill of it, had influenced his entire life. And it was contagious. Jesse had been caught up in it as well. It’s what had kept him here, chasing Coot’s rainbow, instead of going off in search of his own.
Not that he had any regrets. He couldn’t imagine himself anywhere but here.
He crossed the mudroom and stepped out onto the back porch, hoping to get as far away from the crowd as possible.
Just as he lifted the drink to his lips, a voice stopped him.
“I thought I might find you out here.”
He didn’t have to see her to recognize that voice. Hadn’t it whispered to him in dreams a hundred times or more?
His tone hardened as he studied Amy Parrish standing at the bottom of the steps. “What’s the matter, Amy? Make a wrong turn? Lunch is being served in the front yard.”
“I noticed.” She waited until he walked closer. “I just wanted to tell you why I came back.”
“To gloat, no doubt.”
“Don’t, Jess.” She pressed her lips together, then gave a sigh of defeat. “I’m sorry about your grandfather. I know you loved him.”
“Yeah.” Her eyes were even greener than he remembered. With little gold flecks in them that you could see only in the sunlight. It hurt to look at them. At her. Almost as much as it hurt to think about Coot. “So, why did you come back?”
“To offer some support to my dad while he had some medical tests done.”
His head came up sharply. “He’s sick?”
She nodded. “The doctor in Billings sent him to a specialist at the university. The test results should be back in a couple of days, and then I’ll be going back to my job, teaching in Helena.”
“I’m sorry about your dad. I hope the test results come back okay.” He paused, staring at the glass in his hands because he didn’t want to be caught staring at her. “So, I guess you just came here to say good-bye before you leave. Again.”
“I just…” She shrugged and stared down at her hands, fighting nerves. “I just wanted to offer my condolences.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
The breeze caught a strand of pale hair, softly laying it across her cheek. Without thinking he reached up and gently brushed it away from her face.
The heat that sizzled through his veins was like an electrical charge, causing him to jerk back. But not before he caught the look of surprise in her eyes. Surprise and something more. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear he saw a quick flash of heat. But that was probably just his pride tricking him into believing in something that wasn’t there, and hadn’t been for years.
He lowered his hand and clenched it into a fist at his side.
She took a sideways step, as though to avoid being touched again. “I’d better get back to my dad.”
“Yeah. Thanks again for coming.”
She walked away quickly, without looking back.
That was how she’d left in the first place, he thought. Without a backward glance.
Now he could allow himself to study her. Hair the color of wheat, billowing on the breeze. That lean, willowy body; those long legs; the soft flare of her hips.
Just watching her, he felt all the old memories rushing over him, filling his mind, battering his soul. Memories he’d kept locked up for years in a small, secret corner of his mind. The way her hair smelled in the rain. The way her eyes sparkled whenever she smiled. The sound of her laughter, low in her throat. The way she felt in his arms when they kissed. When they made love…
He’d be damned if he’d put himself through that hell again.
He lifted the tumbler to his lips and drained it in one long swallow, feeling the heat snake through his veins.
“What’s past is past,” he muttered thickly. “Here’s to what’s around the bend.”