It was a beautiful day. It had rained again, and the flowers growing in the planters beside every doorway had never been more lush and fragrant.
A distant memory flitted through April’s mind. It almost felt as if she’d been here before. For some reason she half expected to see her father practicing for his next sermon on the glistening marble steps of the courthouse. He wasn’t there, of course, for he’d died ten years ago. Still, she felt his presence with her today.
Feeling as carefree as the cotton candy clouds in the sky, she marveled at the brightly colored benches, the brick-paved sidewalks and the windows that reflected an azure blue sky. Recorded music from a children’s choir played over the speakers on every street corner. A small group had gathered around the bronze sculpture of Johnny Appleseed, and two women in silver dresses were rehearsing near the fountain.
Gracie and Violet were happy their mother and Cole were getting married, but all they could talk about was the puppy they’d been promised they could choose after their birthday party tomorrow.
For just a moment, April felt the flutter of trepidation. Unable to pinpoint the source, she met her future husband’s gaze over her daughters’ chatter. Her heart utterly full, she knew she had nothing to fear.
She could hardly believe she could be this lucky. Cole Cavanaugh turned heads, and yet he had eyes only for her. Some women searched their entire lives to find a good, honest man to love. April had been so incredibly blessed to love two.
Dressed in purple as always, Harriet Ferris came out of a nearby shop. Seeing Cole and April and the girls, she beamed a smile and started toward them, her heels click-clacking on the winding sidewalk.
“Let me see this ring I’ve heard so much about!” the petite woman of indiscernible age insisted. April raised her hand for a moment in order to show Harriet her new engagement ring.
“Look!” Violet said to her sister.
Without warning, she pulled her hand out of Gracie’s, streaked off the sidewalk, past a parked car and into the street where a terrified brown-and-yellow dog was running first one way and then another. April froze as tires screeched and horns honked.
“Violet!” her mother screamed.
Oblivious, Violet followed the dog into oncoming traffic.
More brakes screeched, more horns honked. April screamed again.
Cole was running toward Violet, whose sole attention was on the frightened dog. April grabbed Gracie’s hand to keep her from following. He moved like lightning, darting between two parked cars, directly into the path of another that was seconds away from hitting the precious little girl. In that split second before that happened, Cole grabbed her up, dove and rolled out of April’s sight. There came the discordant sound of crunching metal, shattering glass and the ominous thud of something hard colliding with flesh and bone.
Gracie was crying and April couldn’t let herself faint.
Harriet Ferris’s blue eyes were round behind her trifocals. April placed Gracie’s hand firmly in the older woman’s. “Do not let go of her. Please.”
Harriet nodded, and held the child with both hands.
April raced into the street now blocked with cars. The cotton candy clouds darkened, the sun had disappeared, the music had stopped. She had to reach Cole and Violet. Please, God.
She sprinted around the first car. Because of its angle, she had to take the long way around the second. Fearing what she would find, she came around the back of a white SUV, and there they were, Cole and Violet and the yellow spotted dog.
Cole was sitting on the pavement, holding Violet tight. Both were scraped up. Both were alive.
Sirens blared. People were there suddenly, and they all seemed to be talking at once. As April’s eyes met Cole’s, everything, all the discordant sounds and the noxious smell of rubber and exhaust fumes, the disarray, the steaming engine and mangled hood of one car and the dented door of another, all of it disappeared.
A light shone from Cole’s eyes to hers. That light transcended space and time and connected them to the very beginning when love was created.
He smiled, her hero who’d saved Violet’s life. And Violet said, “Mama, the dog’s hurt. We have to help her.”
April looked closer at the poor creature that lay prone and utterly still on the pavement several feet away, its right leg bent at a bad angle, its eyes closed. Oh, no.
Violet pushed against Cole’s arms. “Let me go. Let me go. She needs me.”
Stiffly, Cole found his feet, and with Violet still in his arms he started toward the dog. April went with them, swooping gently to her knees where the dog lay.
“Put me down!” Violet demanded. “I need to pet her.”
Cole looked to April for direction. At her nod, he carefully set the little girl on her feet, but didn’t release her hand.
Together they bent down. Each of them lay a gentle hand on the still animal’s side. She was warm, but April felt no heartbeat.
“Violet, honey,” she crooned. “I think she’s—”
But Violet remained steadfast. Her little hand stroking the soft fur gently, she said nothing.
Then April saw it: the little brown-and-yellow dog moved her tail. It wasn’t strong enough to be considered a wag, but she was alive.
Harriet was there suddenly with Gracie and a policeman, too. “She insisted she had to see Violet and their dog. I couldn’t hold her back any longer.”
With a nod at Harriet, April took her blond-haired daughter’s hand. Gracie bent down on her haunches, too, and touched the dog the same way Violet was touching her. The little dog opened her eyes and looked directly at the girls, the thump of her tail growing stronger. Together the twins smiled.
“Easy,” April crooned when the animal struggled to get up, but couldn’t.
“Lay still,” Violet and Gracie said, mimicking their mother.
Another policeman arrived on the scene. And an ambulance, too.
The paramedics swarmed out, ready to take vitals and names. “Is this your dog?” one of them asked.
“Yes,” Violet and Grace said in unison.
April and Cole shared a look. Cole had just saved Violet’s life, and tears coursed down April’s face.
Actually, this was Nathan Hampton’s beloved rescue. He was one of the good guys, guys like Cole and Jay. He loved children and animals. She was certain he loved this dog. Right now, April wanted to make sure the dog was going to live.
Abby Fitzpatrick, one of April’s closest friends and a reporter with the local newspaper, was snapping pictures. Everybody who had a phone had taken dozens.
The chief EMT wanted Cole and Violet to get in the ambulance. Cole knew Violet was unharmed, for he’d shielded her with his arms, his body, his heart and his soul.
“We’re not hurt,” he said. “I would tell you if we were. The car missed us. Other than a few scrapes from rolling across the pavement, my daughter and I are fine.”
The tears streaming down April’s face continued. Her worst nightmare had nearly come true. This scene was so much like the one she’d dreamed it was unnerving, uncanny, terrifyingly real. She could have lost her daughter today. Or Cole. Or both of them.
But she didn’t. All because of Cole, her warrior, her hero. She looked at him and saw him looking back at her. Jay had saved Cole’s life that horrible day in the desert. And today Cole had saved Violet’s. It was as if Jay had brought Cole to Orchard Hill to do this.
There was a lot of commotion, and later she would try to remember who’d been there and what they’d said. Cole was conferring with the police officer and the EMT in charge.
April didn’t know what Cole said, but his request was being granted. He picked up the dog as gently as he could. Ever careful of her front leg, he cradled her in his strong arms and carried her to the waiting ambulance. Holding each of her little girls’ hands as if she would never le
t them go, April, Gracie and Violet climbed in, too.
They made the six o’clock news, where Cole was cited for heroism. Watching it from the waiting room of the animal hospital, April marveled at the miracle she’d been granted.
One of the veterinary assistants attended to Cole’s and Violet’s scrapes. She applied antiseptic and Band-Aids and deemed them almost as good as new. There were smudges on April’s white skirt and a hole in Cole’s jeans and dirt on Violet’s and Gracie’s knees, but none of that mattered. Incredibly, all four of them were unharmed.
Nathan Hampton set Roxie’s leg himself. A healer in his own right, he stroked his beloved dog’s soft fur, and when she woke up, he gave Violet and Gracie their first birthday gift.
“Roxie’s yours,” he said solemnly to the two little girls who would turn five tomorrow. “You saved her life. Now she will guard yours.”
The pair had accepted the gift and the responsibility as solemnly as it had been given. “Thank you, but her name isn’t Roxie, Dr. Hampton,” Violet said.
The kindly veterinarian looked perplexed. And April said, “What is her name, then?”
“It’s Spot,” Gracie said, matter-of-fact.
April and Cole both shook Nathan’s hand, and then Cole carried Spot to his truck. April buckled the girls into their booster seats in the back, and being careful of her cast, Cole settled their new dog between them. “Why did you change her name to Spot?” he asked.
Gracie and Violet exchanged a long look. This time it was Gracie who explained. “Because she looks like a spotted leopard.”
From their leather bucket seats, Cole and April looked at one another, in awe because Cole had always perceived Jay as a leopard.
“Are you ever going to tell me what animal I am?” she asked softly.
“You’re a great northern loon,” he said almost as quietly. “Your song is legendary, calling out across fog-covered lakes before dawn’s first light. It was your song that called me home.”
Her breath caught, for she’d always loved the mystery and the majesty of the loon. Her heart brimming with thankfulness and love, she lay her hand over his on the shift lever.
Cotton candy clouds dotted the horizon, and even though it was almost September, she felt a breeze that carried the scent of the first dandelion on spring grass and that courageous faint ray of sunshine that melted the last tuft of snow. An instant later it was gone, but Jay’s blessing remained with all of them.
Love filled the cab of that pickup truck as Cole very carefully drove his family home, a man who was a hero, a woman whose love healed, two little girls who’d gotten exactly what they wanted for their birthday and the spotted dog with the cast on her leg and a tail that hadn’t stopped wagging since she woke up.
* * *
For another heart-touching
look into the lives of the
people in Orchard Hill, read
The Wedding Gift
and don’t miss a single story in
the Round-the-Clock Brides series:
A Bride Until Midnight
A Bride Before Dawn
A Bride by Summer
by Sandra Steffen
available from
Harlequin Special Edition.
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Maverick’s Secret Baby by Teri Wilson.
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The Maverick’s Secret Baby
by Teri Wilson
Chapter One
Finn Crawford was living the dream.
Granted, his father, Maximilian, had gone a little crazy. The old man was intent on paying a matchmaker to marry off all six of his sons. If that wasn’t nuts, Finn didn’t know what was.
This wasn’t the 1800s. It was modern-day Montana, and the Crawfords were...comfortable. If that sounded like something a rich man might say about his family, then it was probably because it was true. Finn’s family was indeed wealthy, and Finn himself wasn’t exactly terrible-looking. Quite the opposite, if the women who’d been ringing Viv Dalton—the matchmaker in question—were to be believed. More important, he was a decent guy. He tried, anyway.
Plus, Finn loved women. Women were typically much more open than men. Kinder and more authentic. He loved their softness and the way they committed so much to everything, whether it was caring for a stray puppy or running a business. Show him a woman who wore a deep red lipstick and her heart on her sleeve, and he was a goner. At the ripe old age of twenty-nine, Finn had already fallen in love more times than he could count.
So the very notion that he’d need any help in the marriage department would have been completely laughable, if he’d had any intention of tying the knot. Which he did not.
Why would he, when Viv Dalton was being paid to toss women in his direction? His dad had picked up the entire Crawford ranch—all six of his sons and over a thousand head of cattle—and moved them from Dallas to Rust Creek Falls, Montana, for this asinine pretend version of The Bachelor. The way Finn saw it, he’d be a fool not to enjoy the ride.
And enjoying it, he had been. A little too much, according to Viv.
“Finn, honestly. You’ve dated a different woman nearly every week for the past three months.” The wedding planner eyed him from across her desk, which was piled high with bridal magazines and puffy white tulle. Sitting inside her wedding shop was like being in the middle of a cupcake.
“And they’ve all been lovely.” Finn stretched his denim-clad legs out in front of him and crossed his cowboy boots at the ankle. “I have zero complaints.”
Beside him, Maximilian sighed. “I have a lot of complaints. Specifically, a million of them where you’re concerned, son.”
Finn let the words roll right off him. After all, paying someone a million dollars to find wives for all six Crawford brothers hadn’t been his genius idea. Maximilian had no one to blame but himself.
“Mr. Crawford, I assure you I’m doing my best to find Finn a bride.” Viv tucked a wayward strand of blond hair behind her ear and folded her hands neatly on the surface of her desk. All business. “In fact, I believe I’ve set him up with every eligible woman in Rust Creek Falls.”
“All of them?” Finn arched a brow. This town was even smaller than he’d thought it was. It would have taken him a lifetime to go through the entire dating pool back in Dallas. He should know—he’d tried.
Vivienne gave him a tight smile. “Every. Last. One.”
“Okay, then I guess we’re done here. Yo
u gave it your best shot.” Finn stood. He’d miss the girlfriend-of-the-week club, but at least his father would be forced to accept the fact that he wasn’t about to get engaged to any of the fine female residents of Rust Creek Falls.
Finn placed his Stetson on his head, set to go. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Sit back down, son.” Maximilian didn’t raise his voice, but his tone had an edge to it that Finn hadn’t heard since the time he’d “borrowed” his father’s truck to go mudding with his high school buddies back in tenth grade.
That little escapade had ended with Maximilian’s luxury F-150 stuck in a ditch and Finn mucking out stalls every weekend for the rest of the school year.
Of course Finn was an adult now, not a stupid teenager. He made his own choices, certainly when it came to his love life. But he loved his dad, and since the Crawfords were all business partners in addition to family, he didn’t want to rock the boat. Not over something as ridiculous as this.
“Sure thing, Dad.” He lowered himself back into the frilly white chair with its frilly lace cushion.
Maximilian sat a little straighter and narrowed his gaze at Viv Dalton. “Are you forgetting what’s at stake?”
She cleared her throat. “No, sir. I’m not.”
A look of warning passed from Finn’s father toward the wedding planner, and she gave him a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.
Finn’s gut churned. What the hell was that about?
Damn it.
Knowing his dad, he’d gone and upped the ante behind Finn’s back. When Maximilian ran into problems, he had a tendency to write a bigger check to make them go away.
Finn sighed. “I’m no longer sure entirely what’s going on here, but I think it might be time for this little matchmaking project to end. Half of us are already married.”
One by one, Finn’s brothers Logan, Xander and Knox had become attached. It was uncanny, really. None of them had ended up with women of Viv’s choosing, but they’d coupled up all the same. The way he saw it, his dad should be thrilled. The Crawford legacy would live on, Finn’s bachelor status notwithstanding.
A Man 0f His Word (Round-The-Clock Brides Book 4) Page 18