She’s done with love...
...until he comes into her life.
When single mother Camryn moves to Bufflehead Creek, she’s hoping only for somewhere peaceful to raise her daughter and the baby she’s expecting. So her immediate attraction to neighbor Reed, a divorced parent of two boys, is an exciting surprise. Their connection deepens as their families grow closer—but Cam keeps her pregnancy secret. When Reed discovers the truth, will he shatter Cam’s hopes for a new romance?
“Reed, there is something I need to talk to you about...”
He smiled. “I hope it’s an answer to my asking you for a date.”
“Well...”
“Because in case you haven’t noticed, I kinda, sorta like you, Camryn. I’m finding myself thinking about you an awful lot.” He reached for her hand and stepped closer. “I’ve especially been thinking about that kiss, and when I saw you just now, I had a strong urge to see if it was as great as I remember.”
She smiled. “Are you asking for permission...?”
“No, ma’am.” He moved his hands to cup her face and threaded his fingers into her hair. “I’m just giving you fair warning that I’m determined to find out.”
His face lowered. She blinked an instant before his lips settled on hers. And then she let her eyelids flutter closed and her mouth melt into his.
Dear Reader,
Starting over can be a scary time in anyone’s life. And it can also be exhilarating, full of possibilities. I should know. After forty years in south Florida, I am moving all the way to north-central Florida! Not a big deal, you say? It is for me. I’m a widow. I live with my adorable pup, Willie, and together we are moving into a fifty-five-plus community.
I feel a special kinship with the twin who stars in the first book of my latest trilogy, Baby Makes Four. Camryn is recently divorced, a single mom and coping with major disappointments in her life. But she makes a move from the city to a small farm near the coast of South Carolina. She leaves behind her family and her sister, who is her best friend, and begins a new adventure.
Thanks to a few stalls she has in her barn, and a stray dog who shows up on her porch, Camryn meets her new neighbor, a vet who is embarking on his start-over, as well. I hope you enjoy the journeys these characters make to find peace, family togetherness and love.
Look for the other twin’s story next.
Cynthia Thomason
[email protected]
Baby Makes Four
Cynthia Thomason
Cynthia Thomason inherited her love of writing from her ancestors. Her father and grandmother both loved to write, and she aspired to continue the legacy. Cynthia studied English and journalism in college, and after a career as a high school English teacher, she began writing novels. She discovered ideas for stories while searching through antiques stores and flea markets and as an auctioneer and estate buyer. Cynthia says every cast-off item from someone’s life can ignite the idea for a plot. She writes about small towns, big hearts and happy endings that are earned and not taken for granted. And as far as the legacy is concerned, just ask her son, the magazine journalist, if he believes. Please contact Cynthia at [email protected] and cynthiathomason.net.
Books by Cynthia Thomason
Harlequin Heartwarming
The Cahills of North Carolina
High Country Christmas
Dad in Training
High Country Cop
The Daughters of Dancing Falls
Rescued by Mr. Wrong
The Bridesmaid Wore Sneakers
A Boy to Remember
Firefly Nights
This Hero for Hire
A Soldier’s Promise
Blue Ridge Autumn
Marriage for Keeps
Dilemma at Bayberry Cove
Visit the Author Profile page at www.Harlequin.com for more titles.
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This book is dedicated to all those who have experienced start-overs, especially my strong and inspired stepdaughter, Lisa Beaumont. I hope I do half as well as you have, darling.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
EXCERPT FROM SNOWED IN WITH THE SINGLE DAD BY MELINDA CURTIS
CHAPTER ONE
SALTY’S FEED AND GRAIN was busier than usual this Monday morning. Trucks were lined up against the loading dock. Camryn recognized about half the drivers. Not bad considering she’d only lived in the area for two months. Bufflehead Creek, South Carolina, was filled with friendly people, cotton fields and lots of animals.
Camryn found a narrow spot and backed her truck into the space. She stepped out of the cab and marveled again at the wonder of a beautiful day. October was a prime month in the low country. Warm days, cool nights, promising harvests and hopefully no more hurricanes like the Category 1 storm that had blown through two weeks ago.
Becky Johnson, one of the feedstore’s friendliest clerks, came to the edge of the dock. “Hey, Cam. How are you? Nice day, isn’t it?”
“Sure is.”
“I’ve got your order right here. Let me finish up with this other customer, and I’ll get to you in a minute.”
“No hurry,” Camryn said. “I’m not in a rush. Still got a few more errands to run in town, including delivering one hundred copies of Alphabet Days to the elementary school.”
“One hundred?” Becky said. “That’s more than your publishing company has ever sent. Enough for all first and second graders, I’d say.”
It was true. Camryn had worked a deal with Southern Square Press, publisher of elementary school magazines for Charleston schools. She’d been designing the covers for the magazines for several years, and had gotten the idea to have extra copies sent to her in Bufflehead Creek in exchange for giving up a small raise in pay. Well worth it, she thought. Just because Baycomb County didn’t have as much money to spend on activity books as Charleston schools, it didn’t mean local schools shouldn’t introduce their kids to the wonder of words.
“Can I see a copy?” Becky asked.
“Sure.” Cam went to her truck and pulled half a dozen issues from the cab. “This month’s title is Ollie the October Owl,” she said. “Give them away to kids that come in the store.”
Becky scanned the cover quickly. “That’s adorable, Cam. I wish I could draw like that.”
“I get quite a bit of help from a computer program,” Camryn said. “But this job does feed my creative spirit and keeps Esther’s Barbie doll in the latest fashions.”
“How is your daughter? Is she still happy at the grade school?”
“She’s making friends,” Cam said. “That was my biggest worry after leaving Charleston.”
Checking off a supply list on her clipboard, Becky asked, “And how are you feeling?”
“Great
,” Camryn said.
Becky was the only person in town who knew about Camryn’s pregnancy and the only one besides Camryn’s family and the baby’s father. Cam had just about reached the first trimester mark, and maybe she could relax a bit. Though after two miscarriages in recent years, she didn’t think she’d be fully free of anxiety until she was holding a healthy baby in her arms. But buying a small farm and moving to Bufflehead Creek had been a step in the right direction.
She leaned against the hood of her truck, feeling the warmth of the engine seep into her back. She almost felt like moaning with pleasure, but figured she’d get odd looks from the farmers and ranchers around her. The 2003 Ford truck was another good investment she’d made recently. She and her daughter, Esther, had named the truck Energizer Bunny, which seemed to suit its personality and coordinated well with the sign on the front of her property, Cottontail Farm.
“Okay, darlin’, I’m ready,” Becky called out to her. Becky was only about ten years older than Camryn’s thirty-two years, but she had such a store of down-home sentiments that Cam had gotten used to being called “darlin’,” “sweet pea” and “sugar bear.”
“Your order’s right here,” Becky added. “I’ll load it up for you.”
“I can help,” Camryn said.
“No way,” Becky insisted. She lowered her voice, respecting Cam’s privacy. “After four kids I remember what I could and couldn’t do when I was in your condition. And we’re not taking any chances with that precious little bean growing inside you.”
Becky called out the sacks as she dropped them in the truck bed. “Ten pounds of chicken feed, twenty pounds of goat pellets and ten pounds of kibble for Rooster.”
An image of her lumbering forty-pound mutt popped into Camryn’s head. The dripping wet dog had shown up at her house one rainy night, and after an exhaustive search to find his owner, Cam and Esther had just decided to keep him. When he started chasing the chickens around the barnyard, Camryn had joked, “He must think he’s a rooster and he needs a girlfriend,” she’d said.
Giggling like a typical nine-year-old, Esther had firmly declared that Rooster would be the dog’s name. Unfortunately for Rooster, he had to learn right away that chicken hunting was not an acceptable practice at Cottontail Farm. Not when the owner made part of her living selling free-range eggs. But Rooster learned quickly and gave up pestering the chickens for a cozy spot in the house.
Once she was loaded, Camryn drove her truck around to the front of the feedstore where she would pay her bill. Becky met her at the cash register. “Are you using a card, honey?” she asked.
Camryn longed for the day she could pay everything by cash, but operating a small farm did not lend itself to a cash budget right now. She slipped her credit card into the reader and waited for her receipt. Good thing Mark had sent Esther’s child support payment on time.
“Have you met your new neighbor?” Becky suddenly asked her.
Taken aback a moment, Camryn said, “Do you mean the Boldens? I sold them ten of my hundred acres a month ago. Did you forget?”
“I don’t mean the elder Boldens. I mean their son.”
“Their son? What are you talking about?”
“Haven’t you seen activity on that parcel? The son—Reed’s his name—is having a modular home built. There should have been trucks coming onto the property.”
Yes, of course Camryn had seen the commotion. And heard it. Hammers pounding, saws screeching. She’d just figured the Boldens had decided to give up their luxury motor home life and build a more permanent structure. But she’d been so busy she hadn’t even gone over to see what was going on. “I had no idea their son was building there. It’s awfully close to my property line.”
When she’d sold ten acres of her land to the Boldens, she’d needed the fifteen thousand dollars to make improvements on her farm and to set up a nursery for the baby. She hadn’t put any stipulations on the sale that would have prevented the Boldens from selling part of their purchase or even giving it away. She wondered now what she had gotten herself into. What if this new neighbor didn’t like the sounds of chickens clucking and a dog barking?
Then he shouldn’t have moved to South Carolina, she thought with a smile.
“I wouldn’t worry about how close the man’s house is to yours,” Becky said. “He’s only been in the area about a week and obviously you haven’t seen him.”
No, she hadn’t. In fact, Camryn hadn’t even come to town in the last seven days. Her routine was now the new normal in her life. Up at six to feed the chickens. Fix breakfast for Esther, braid her hair and make sure she was ready for the school bus when it stopped in front of the house. The rest of her day was spent working on graphic designs for Southern Square Press and on planting and fertilizing the organic gardens that added a bit of income when she sold the healthy produce.
Right now, aside from her regular paycheck from Southern Square, most of Camryn’s money came from eggs and what she sold at the Saturday farmers market in Bufflehead Creek. But as soon as she persuaded a few leading hotels in Beaufort and Charleston to buy vegetables from her regularly, the money squeeze would ease up.
Becky fanned her face. “Let me tell you, Cam, if I wasn’t married, I’d set my sights on that fella.”
“Who?” Camryn asked, bringing her mind back from her money situation.
“Reed Bolden,” Becky said. “I was just talking about him.”
Camryn laughed. “Sure you’d set your sights on another man, Beck. I can just see you leaving Judd for the latest man du jour.”
Becky sucked in a quick breath and adjusted her posture. “Don’t look now, sweetie, but Mr. Hunkystuff just walked in.”
Camryn switched her attention to the door of the feedstore, where a tall man in a cowboy hat seemed to fill the entrance. Rugged-looking in jeans and boots, he appeared to belong in the country, as if he was born to it, actually. Not like Camryn, who’d been raised in classic comfort in historic downtown Charleston.
“Hi, there, Reed,” Becky called. “Come on over here, hon, and meet your new neighbor.”
Camryn felt her face flush—the same face that probably still had hay stuck to a cheek and smudges of dirt everywhere else. “Becky, what are you doing?”
“No time like the present.” Becky’s smile was a mile wide.
The new neighbor ambled over. The closer he got, the more Camryn realized he wasn’t all country. His hat didn’t have any of the customary sweat stains on the brim. His skin showed signs of a new, and probably painful, sunburn, different from the “farmer’s tans” so many of the guys around Bufflehead sported. When he took his hat off and brushed hair off his forehead, Cam noticed a neat style and no oily strands. Obviously, this guy put grooming at the top of his list of priorities. When he settled the hat back on his brow, he returned to Mr. Meltaway Country Cool.
“Reed, this is Camryn Montgomery,” Becky said. “She’s the gal who sold the property to your parents.”
Reed extended his hand. His fingers were surprisingly clean. Cam felt like hiding her own hand behind her back. “Hi. Nice to meet you,” she said.
“I’ve been meaning to drop by and introduce myself to you,” he said. “That piece of property you sold my parents is great. They’re letting me settle on five acres of it.”
“Look at this,” Becky said, handing him the latest issue of Alphabet Days. “Camryn designed this cover. Isn’t it cute?”
Camryn wanted to find a counter to crawl behind. But her new neighbor handled the obvious flattery with grace. “Yeah, very cute. Who doesn’t like an owl?” he said.
Becky handed him two copies of the magazine. “Give these to your boys, compliments of Camryn.”
He smiled. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”
After an awkward moment of silence, Camryn said, “I saw building materials being unloaded a couple of days ago. Becky te
lls me you’re building a house?”
“Just a modular for now. Need a place for myself and my two sons. If everything works out, I’ll think about a bigger structure down the line.”
“Sounds like you’re here to stay,” Camryn said.
“Hope so. Trying to get a few details straightened out so I can move my family out of my parents’ motor home. It’s a big RV, but space is still tight.”
His family... Becky hadn’t mentioned a wife. Maybe that little detail had stayed off Becky’s radar. Oh, well, Cam was just recently divorced. The last thing she needed was another man, another complication in her life. She had enough going on just managing her farm.
Becky handed Camryn her receipt. “You’re all set, darlin’. What can I do for you, Reed?”
“I’m hoping that colic medicine I ordered is in,” he said. “My horse and pony should be here soon, and I don’t want to be without emergency medications.”
Cam should have moved on, but she stayed near the cash register to hear as much of the conversation as she could. After all, this man only lived a short distance from her, and she’d no doubt be running into him.
“Got it right here,” Becky said, producing a package from under the counter. “You use our address as long as you need to, hon. Happy to oblige.”
He took the package and leaned toward Becky. “Thanks, Becky. Maybe you can help me with something else.”
“Sure, I’ll try.”
“It’ll probably be a few months before my paddock and barn are constructed.”
Paddock and barn? This man was building more than a house and keeping horses on his property? Camryn appreciated her solitude and didn’t know how she’d feel about so much activity next to her property.
“I need a home for my horses in the meantime,” Reed said. “They’re ready to be hauled up from Atlanta as soon as I say the word. I’d like to find a place close to where I’m building the house, if possible.”
Cam started to walk away. She sensed Becky’s enthusiasm aimed directly at her, and she didn’t want Becky getting any ideas. Oh, well. Too late.
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