What We Find

by Robyn Carr

  A caterer from Colorado Springs brought tables, folding chairs, food, drink, floral arrangements, decorative candles, linens. Enid insisted she could make the wedding cake and it wasn’t exactly professional-looking, but it was unique—a two-tiered sheet cake with lots of fall leaves created out of frosting and food coloring. Maggie did not laugh, but she wanted to. There were no printed programs and the minister got his license on the internet. Jaycee Kent and Terry Jordan from the OR were the bridesmaids, Cal’s brother Dakota made the trip on short notice to be Cal’s best man, the other witness was Tom Canaday. Not to be left out, Sedona and her family flew to Denver and drove down to the barn for the festivities.

  Aware that Cal kept in touch with Lynne’s parents, Maggie asked him if he had invited them and was rather surprised when he said he had. “They declined. They’re very happy for me and don’t want to distract me. But they’d love to meet you and asked if they could visit when we’re settled.”

  “I’m sorry your father isn’t well enough to be here,” she said.

  “We’ll send them lots of pictures. You’re beautiful,” he said.

  “And you’re wearing that suit that makes me want to send everyone home early.”

  Maggie wore a simple, short, ivory dress with lace sleeves and nude patent leather pumps. In the car were a couple of packed bags. After a night in Denver and brunch with Dakota, Sedona and her family, they’d be taking a short vacation to a warm, private resort in the Bahamas.

  At a little before four in the afternoon, when the sun was casting long shadows over the Rockies, Cal and Maggie greeted their guests, introduced some of them to each other. Before long, the minister urged them to stand at the front of the barn under a beautiful fall wreath and he began. He talked very briefly about the great joy he felt in helping to bring people together in marriage. The usual vows were recited, some of them, anyway—Cal and Maggie wanted to do things their way.

  “Maggie, until I met you, I was lost. There were so many times I asked myself what I would do next, where I would be, if there was anyone I could be right for. Then I met you and instantly loved you. Instantly. Those long talks by the fire, late at night, meant everything to me. The walks through the hills and valleys, not talking—everything. The evenings of intimacy when no words were needed, everything. Looking into the future with you, my heart is so full there’s no room for anything but promise. And I promise you a lifetime. The best I have.”

  “And I promise you, California Jones, all the passion in my heart, all the joy in my being, all the laughter on a sunny day, all the thrill of day after day knowing we are one, that when my heart beats in my breast, it beats only for you. I love you. I promise you my life. The best I have.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from SWEPT AWAY by #1 New York Times bestselling author Robyn Carr, from Mira Books.

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost I’d like to thank my readers, not only for reading my books and talking about them with friends, book club members, online, everywhere, but also for sending me thoughtful letters of encouragement and praise. It’s so kind and means the world.

  Thanks to Dr. Brian Carr for research help—I knew what I was doing when I raised a doctor! And thanks also for reading an early manuscript, looking for technical errors on the medical aspects of the story.

  A great big thank-you to MAJ Scott Trexler, MD, Chief of Trauma/Critical Care, San Antonio Military Medical Center. I appreciate the resource, but even more than that, I thank you for your patriotic service—I am in your debt!

  Thanks to Kevin Tourek, Esq., for always answering my questions to the best of your knowledge and for researching some legal issues for me. Your help and friendship is very important and special to me.

  Any errors or alterations in the technical aspects of this book are not the fault of my technical advisers but mine, most often license to create a strong story, and I appreciate the readers’ indulgence.

  I have a couple of early readers who never fail to offer insight and commentary that very often change and invariably improve the story—thanks to my daughter, Jamie Prosser, and to Kate Bandy. Kate has been reading manuscripts for me for almost forty years and has never once complained! And a very special thanks to my dear friend the lovely Kristan Higgins who brings light into my life and work.

  Special thanks and appreciation to my husband, Jim, for your unwavering support, for being a sounding board, for your patience and commitment. I love you.

  Thanks to Liza Dawson, my agent, for your brilliance, loyalty, tender loving care, wicked sharp wit and, most of all, friendship.

  And my thanks to Craig Swinwood, Loriana Sacilotto, Margaret Marbury and Nicole Brebner, Harlequin’s A-team, for providing this magnificent opportunity. I will try every day to deserve the honor.

  And thanks to everyone at Harlequin. There are a lot of fingerprints on my books. I’m having a good time, loving my work, while all of you do the heavy lifting. Thank you for the quality work, the sincere commitment, the quality product. Nobody does it better.

  “A thought-provoking look at women…and the choices they make when they realize their lives aren’t exactly what they expected—or thought they were.”

  —Kirkus Reviews on Four Friends

  From #1 New York Times bestselling author

  Robyn Carr

  Sometimes, escaping from the past is all about building a new future.

  Swept Away

  (July 2016)

  Looking for more compelling and insightful stories by Robyn Carr?

  Don’t miss these bestselling tales of friendship, family and fresh starts.

  Four Friends

  Never Too Late

  Order your copies today!

  “Robyn Carr writes books that touch the heart and the funny bone.”

  —#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

  Other ways to keep in touch:

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

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  HarlequinBlog.com

  Don’t miss out on the series that started it all in Virgin River, California:

  Virgin River

  Shelter Mountain

  Whispering Rock

  A Virgin River Christmas

  Second Chance Pass

  Temptation Ridge

  Paradise Valley

  Forbidden Falls

  Angel’s Peak

  Moonlight Road

  Promise Canyon

  Wild Man Creek

  Harvest Moon

  Bring Me Home for Christmas

  Hidden Summit

  Redwood Bend

  Sunrise Point

  My Kind of Christmas

  Looking for more from Robyn Carr? Visit Thunder Point, Oregon, and fall in love with the cast of unforgettable locals who call it home:

  The Wanderer

  The Newcomer

  The Hero

  The Chance

  The Promise

  The Homecoming

  One Wish

  A New Hope

  Wildest Dreams

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

  Other ways to keep in touch:

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  HarlequinBlog.com

  Swept Away

  by Robyn Carr

  One

  When she walked into the Fort Lauderdale Executive Airport, heads turned. Not just the men’s, but the women’s, as well. Jennifer was used to this; sh
e did not come by her fabulous looks by accident. Trim, tan, blond, leggy, buxom, with a face that could stop time, she drew the attention of everyone she passed. She went to the counter and recognized the agent, a woman she’d seen several times before. “Hi, Elaine. Jennifer Chaise, here to meet Mr. Noble for the Las Vegas flight.”

  “He hasn’t checked in yet, Ms. Chaise, but you can board if you like.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll wait until he gets here.”

  “Why don’t we go ahead and load your luggage to save time?” she said.

  Jennifer gave a nod and a smile, glanced over her shoulder to the skycap who had followed her with her bags, and then went to a leather sofa in the waiting room. From there she could see the terminal entrance.

  As she waited for her gentleman friend, Nick, to arrive at the airport, Jennifer reminded herself that not all that long ago she’d been a girl who couldn’t afford a bus ticket. Now she was a woman waiting for a private jet. Who would’ve guessed?

  The private jet sent by the MGM Casino Resort would whisk them away to Las Vegas, where they would spend a few days. Nick was what was known as a Whale—a high-stakes gambler. She assumed he lost as well as he won because at least four times a year the MGM would send their Gulfstream to pick him up. But, according to them, gamblers never lost. And, despite the fact that he was married, Jennifer was the woman who accompanied him on these trips.

  Jennifer was something of a gambler herself, but she didn’t wager money. She put herself on the line, betting that she could keep someone like Nick Noble so enchanted by her charms and beauty that he would be a generous suitor. It required quite a lot of skill and confidence. The skill she had acquired over time, but the confidence always threatened to elude her. Sometimes she was required to fake it. All the people who ogled her were completely unaware that beneath the veneer of wealth and glamour beat the heart of an uncertain girl who had come from nothing.

  She reached over her knee to smooth her two-thousand-dollar eelskin boots over her shin—they were as soft as butter and were her favorite. There was a time years and years ago, when she was eight or nine years old, that her mother picked through a Dumpster, where she’d seen a pair of discarded shoes just about the right size for Jennifer. That had been an especially bad patch for them. Maybe that was what had fostered her passionate love of footwear. These boots were sage-colored and perfect with the cream skirt and jacket she wore; the skirt was short with a strategic slit up the left side and the jacket buttoned just under her breasts to emphasize her cleavage.

  If it were left up to her, she might choose a lower heel, but Nick, for some strange reason, preferred that she look as tall and long-legged as possible. She was a respectable five foot five, but any one of her collection of high heels so exaggerated her height that she appeared five ten. The irony was that Nick was not tall. He was a short guy—maybe five-seven—and had a real thing for tall, thin blondes. No short-man complex there. In fact, Nick probably thought he was six-two. His ego was at least that big.

  A half hour passed as she waited, and although people couldn’t help but stare at her, she didn’t fidget. The cabin attendant for their jet came into the terminal twice to speak to Elaine, ostensibly to see if all her passengers had finally arrived. By now the crew would be getting antsy. Nick would never tolerate tardiness in others, but he was rarely on time himself. He could be both aggressive and passive-aggressive, not always a winning combination.

  Jennifer pulled her long mane of golden hair over her shoulder and stroked it as if it were a pet. Nick loved her hair. So had a few gentlemen before him. She cared for it as if it were an only child.

  Elaine came out from behind the counter and approached her. “Ms. Chaise, are you sure you don’t want to go ahead and board?” the agent asked her.

  She smiled patiently at the young woman. “It won’t get him here any faster, Elaine. I’ll just wait for Mr. Noble.”

  “I don’t suppose you’ve heard from him?”

  “No.”

  “Have you, by any chance, called his cell or his car?”

  She merely shook her head; there was no point in trying to explain. Nick didn’t like being chased down, hounded or prodded, so calling him would only have the opposite effect. He’d just take his time, no matter who was waiting. He said he’d be here, and he would be here. He’d keep everyone waiting, though, in case there was any question as to who was the most important person in this party.

  Finally, almost an hour after the scheduled departure time, the doors to the small terminal opened and Nick strode through, rolling up his shirtsleeves as he entered. He was a little powerhouse with broad shoulders and thick, hard thighs. His arms were tanned and very strong, but he had small, gentle hands. He wasn’t exactly handsome, but he wasn’t bad-looking, either. He had bushy brows, a bald head and twinkling blue eyes. Women found him sexy, but whether that was because of his looks or his power seemed irrelevant.

  Nick was the kind of man it was very difficult to say no to; he was flamboyant, exciting, wealthy and had a slightly dangerous edge. Perhaps it was the constant presence of one, two or even three large, quiet men that gave him an aura that was both hard to ignore and impenetrable. Jennifer referred to them as the Butlers, which made Nick laugh, but the more accurate term goon came to mind. She tried not to think too hard about them. Nick had quite a collection of men who worked for him, followed him around, traveled with him. Errand boys. Jennifer assumed it made Nick feel important to have them always a few steps behind, ready to do whatever he asked. On this trip it was Jesse and Lou who accompanied them.

  The airport agent breathed an audible sigh of relief and Jennifer stood. Nick slipped an arm around her waist, kissed her cheek and said, “Hi, baby. We ready to roll?”

  “I think they’re all ready,” she said. “My luggage is on the plane.”

  “Good girl. Let’s do it. I’m feeling lucky.”

  Jennifer had met Nick Noble two years before. She had just taken a job in a commercial real estate company where her duties included some secretarial work, as well as property management. It was easy and it paid well. She fielded calls from tenants who needed service such as repairs, collected and deposited rents, and kept track of leases. Her office handled a group of office buildings in Fort Lauderdale and Boca Raton and Jennifer believed she had been hired more for her looks than skills. She was definitely front-office material; the businessmen who leased from them were constantly asking her out.

  She hadn’t been there long when the owner of the properties they managed stopped by. Nick. He took her to lunch that very day and made it clear he was not particularly interested in her performance as a property manager but, rather, he was romantically interested. Now, Jennifer might look like an easy mark with her swollen lips, full perky breasts and clothes carefully chosen to draw attention to her assets, but she was actually cautious. Nick was made to pursue her for a very long time, during which she learned enough about him to make a practical decision. He was married for the third time, had lots of money, several businesses and an iron-clad prenup. Barbara, he said, was very happy with her club, her jewelry, her big house, and was not likely to make any kind of fuss as long as he dinged her bank account on a weekly basis, and paid off the credit cards.

  It turned out that Nick’s analysis of Barbara wasn’t exactly right. Barbara was extremely jealous and given to tantrums that could be very disturbing. But no one, absolutely no one, told Nick Noble what to do. And although Barbara was unhappy about this liaison, she wasn’t unhappy enough to give up the wealth she had married. Barbara Noble, wife number three, had been involved with Nick when he was married to wife number two. Jennifer had absolutely no intention of becoming wife number four, and it might have been that fact more than anything that had kept him intrigued this long.

  Nick had gone after Jennifer with gusto. He called, dropped by, had her picked up by a driver and ta
ken to this or that restaurant. There were flowers and weekly gifts. He took her out on his yacht and to his villa in Key West. He worked very hard to woo her. And she worked very hard to be alluring. She played a mean game of hard to get.

  In the two years she’d been seeing him she had not quit her job. It was important to her self-esteem that she work at something other than being a mistress. True, she was away quite a lot. When Nick wanted her to travel with him, she did. It wasn’t as though her supervisor was going to complain. Nick was a very valued client.

  Jennifer relaxed in the luxury of the Gulfstream, a glass of champagne on her side table, a novel in her lap. Nick, however, had been on the phone since takeoff. He frequently stood up, paced, raised his voice or shook his fist at the air. She picked up a few words here and there—”Look, goddammit, that’s been the program for years!” and “If it’s not delivered on time, you’ll pay, and you’ll pay big!” Jennifer had nearly perfected the fine art of being oblivious. His business wasn’t her business. If she got nosy while he was all riled up, his mood would only get worse. She understood that any man who had the amount of fiscal responsibility that he had might have a short fuse now and then.

  After a couple of hours in flight, he’d had enough. Jesse and Lou were sitting in the first two seats on the plane, reclined and sleeping, their backs to Jennifer and Nick. Nick asked the flight attendant for a Chivas on the rocks and came over to where Jennifer sat with her feet up on the ottoman. He sat beside her feet and put a hand on her knee.