by Kate James
She’s bringing his son home
A missing little boy triggers San Diego K-9 officer Shannon Clemens and her canine search-and-rescue partner into instant action. For the rookie cop haunted by a childhood tragedy, bringing Sawyer Evans’s son safely home is more than a job. It’s a mission she can’t fail... But forging a friendship with the father is a tactical error that could compromise her first solo assignment. Yet the deepening bond between them is almost impossible to resist...
Sawyer laced his fingers through hers.
They strolled to the end of a pier and there, under the star-speckled sky and with the gentle breeze playing over her skin, he turned her to him. With a finger, he tipped her chin up.
“You’re beautiful, Shannon. Inside and out.”
Before Shannon could think of a response, he slid a hand around her and up to rest on the nape of her neck and lowered his head.
With a sigh, she let her eyelids flutter closed as his lips touched hers. The stars overhead paled in comparison to the brilliant lights that burst against her eyelids as she gave herself over to the sensation of Sawyer’s kiss.
The touch of his lips was light. Undemanding.
But it stirred feelings in her that made her question everything.
Dear Reader,
Home to Stay is the fourth book in what is now called the San Diego K-9 Unit series!
Those of you who have read the first three books might recall that they were originally intended to be a trilogy. After finishing the third book, When I Found You, I was saddened by the prospect of saying goodbye to the K-9 Unit, its heroes and their love interests. It seems that readers weren’t prepared to say goodbye, either, as Harlequin contracted me to write a fourth book. I’m thrilled to have had this opportunity to tell the story of rookie K-9 officer Shannon Clemens, her search-and-rescue dog, Darwin, and law professor Sawyer Evans. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to do so.
I hope you’ll enjoy Shannon, Sawyer and Darwin’s story. I couldn’t do what I do without your support. Thank you for choosing my books to spend some time with.
If you would like to use Home to Stay for your book club, you can find discussion questions on my website at www.kate-james.com.
As always, I would love to hear from you! Connect with me through my website, Facebook page (www.Facebook.com/katejamesbooks) or Twitter (www.Twitter.com/katejamesbooks), or mail me at PO Box 446, Schomberg, ON, L0G 1T0, Canada.
Happy reading!
Kate
Home to Stay
Kate James
Kate James spent much of her childhood abroad before attending university in Canada. She built a successful business career, but her passion has always been literature. As a result, Kate turned her energy to her love of the written word. Kate’s goal is to entertain her readers with engaging stories featuring strong, likable characters. Kate has been honored with numerous awards for her writing. She and her husband, Ken, enjoy traveling and the outdoors with their beloved Labrador retrievers.
Books by Kate James
Harlequin Heartwarming
Sanctuary Cove
The Truth About Hope
A Child’s Christmas
The K-9 Trilogy
When I Found You
When Love Matters Most
When the Right One Comes Along
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To my husband, Ken, who is an inspiration to me every day.
I never fail to be amazed and impressed by the hard work, dedication, professionalism and sheer brilliance of the Harlequin team working behind the scenes to help make each of my books the very best it can be. I owe special thanks to Victoria Curran, Kathryn Lye and Paula Eykelhof.
When I started down the winding path to becoming published, it never occurred to me that I would realize an enormous side benefit: getting to know so many wonderful authors whose friendship, support and generosity of spirit continue to astonish and inspire me. There isn’t enough room on this page to name you all, but I would like to acknowledge two remarkable women in particular. Catherine Lanigan and Loree Lough faced enormous personal challenges over the course of 2016, and they did so with extraordinary grace, dignity and determination. Even so, they never failed to think of others, and freely gave their love and friendship. I consider myself inordinately fortunate to be one of the beneficiaries! Heartfelt thanks to Catherine, Loree and all the other Harlequin Heartwarming authors whose friendship I value more than I can put into words.
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
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
EXCERPT FROM AFRAID TO LOSE HER BY SYNDI POWELL
CHAPTER ONE
SAWYER EVANS WAS in that languid state of semi-consciousness, waking from a restful sleep. It must have been the insistent chirping of a bird outside that had drawn him from his dreams. The muted glow of the early-morning light filtering in through the tent infused him with a sense of serenity.
As a single father and a professor of law, serenity wasn’t something Sawyer experienced frequently. He smiled as he remembered that he’d categorically rejected the idea of a weeklong camping trip at Cuyamaca Rancho State Park with his sister, Meghan, and their parents when Meg had first suggested it. He wasn’t the rugged, outdoorsy type, not by any stretch of the imagination. He thought of himself as the nerdy academic, more comfortable with his head in a law book than plodding up a mountain trail. He’d felt that way even before he’d left the San Diego County District Attorney’s office to teach, which he’d done to give him more time with Dylan after Jeannette abandoned them.
Three days in, and who’d have guessed he’d enjoy the experience so much?
And Dylan? He worried about his son becoming a bookish geek like him, and constantly encouraged him to play sports and spend time outdoors. But the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree with his kid. Dylan had to be the most studious four-year-old on the planet. Yet Dylan loved it here. He seemed to be in his element, despite this being his first camping trip. Dylan had been full of energy and enthusiasm ever since they’d arrived. And the exercise was doing him good. The fact that he was sleeping in, and without the nightmares that had plagued him the last couple of years, made Sawyer immensely glad he’d let Meg cajole him—maybe bully was a better word—into coming along.
Dylan was his life. He’d do anything for his son.
Sawyer rolled onto his side and tucked an arm under his head. He considered drifting back to sleep for a few more minutes as he listened to the sounds of nature and the gentle flapping of canvas...
Flapping of canvas?
That wasn’t right.
He bolted up and stared at the tent flap, unzipped and fluttering in the light breeze. He immediately shifted his gaze to Dylan’s cot. From this angle, and with Dylan’s form as slight as it was, he couldn’t tell if his son was in his sleeping bag. Sawyer wasn’t taking any chances. He scrambled out of his own bedroll and hurried over to Dylan’s.
The adrenaline rush had him gasping for air.
The sleeping bag was empty.
Sawyer burst out of the tent and glanced frantically around.
No Dylan. Anywhere.
It must have been just past dawn. The sky was tinged with the first weak rays of sunlight, and a hazy mist shimmered across the water’s surface. Meg and his mom, both early risers, weren’t up yet.
Where was Dylan?
Sawyer’s heart pounded so hard, he was surprised it didn’t slam right through his rib cage.
“Dylaaan!” he bellowed. “Dylaaan!”
His gaze was drawn to the small lake that their campsite edged, and his heart stopped.
“No. Please God...no,” he mumbled as he ran toward the water. He’d been teaching Dylan to swim, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have wandered into the lake and... No! He wouldn’t think about that.
“Dylan!” Sawyer shouted again as he waded in.
A hand latched on to his arm and tugged him back. Too big a hand to be Dylan’s.
He turned and stared into Meg’s huge eyes.
“Sawyer, what are you doing? Where’s Dylan?”
“I...I don’t know where he is.” He noticed his parents standing a few feet back at the edge of the lake. “Dylan wasn’t in his sleeping bag...” His voice cracked, and he willed himself to stay calm.
“Dad, dial 911!” Meg, obviously thinking more coherently than Sawyer, called to their father. “And the park ranger.”
As his father hurried to his parents’ tent, Sawyer shook off Meg’s grasp and took a few more unsteady steps into the lake. Other than the ripples he and Meg had created, the water’s surface was smooth as glass. No disturbance...no air bubbles. He turned and brushed by Meg, hurrying toward his mother. She, too, was looking anxiously about, concern furrowing her brow.
Sawyer yelled Dylan’s name several more times, then he, his mother and Meg stood motionless and quiet, hoping for a response. Only birdsong filled the silence until his father returned. “The park ranger’s on his way. The San Diego Police Department is also sending someone,” he said.
“Okay. Okay,” Sawyer murmured, trying desperately to think coherently. “Mom, you stay here. Wait for the ranger and the cops. I’m going over there.” He gestured vaguely toward the left. He pointed again. “Meg, you look in that direction. Dad, can you search back there, behind the camp?”
Not waiting for replies, Sawyer raced back to his tent, pulled on his running shoes, then took off at a run.
He had to find Dylan. The thought of his son alone in the woods, frightened, maybe injured, terrified him. He didn’t know how long Dylan had been gone.
Animals, including coyotes and mountain lions, inhabited the forest. He remembered reading in the guide book that the California mountain king snake lived in the park, too. He couldn’t recall if the book said the snake was venomous.
“Dylaaan!”
His voice was hoarse from shouting his son’s name. Occasionally, he heard Meg or his father calling out, too, but without response.
Never a response.
They had to find Dylan.
Tripping over an exposed tree root, Sawyer landed hard on his hands and knees. He pushed back up to his feet, absently brushed at the grime and the blood, and moved on.
He hadn’t bothered with his watch when he left, and he had no idea how long he’d been stumbling around in the forest. He was barely aware of the cuts and scrapes he’d sustained running through dense growth and falling a couple of more times.
An incongruous sound caught his attention. Was it a rustling in the brush?
He paused to listen and began to wonder if he’d imagined it.
Then he heard it again. It was his name.
His mother was calling him. Her voice was faint but distinct.
Elation surged through him. Dylan must’ve found his way back to the campsite.
“I’m coming, Mom!” he shouted and thrashed through the forest, running as fast as he could.
The thorns and branches clawing at his arms and legs didn’t slow him. He ran full speed in the direction of his mother’s voice. His muscles screamed and each breath was agony, but the thought of Dylan, safe and sound in his mother’s arms, propelled him forward.
What seemed like an eternity later, he hurtled through the brushwood bordering their campsite.
His energy gone, he bent over. Panting, trying to control his nausea, his eyes landed on his mother sitting at a picnic table. He swept his gaze around, searching for Dylan.
He saw his father and Meg talking to a couple of park rangers, but he didn’t see his son. Limping over to his mother, his voice gravelly, he asked, “Where’s Dylan?” But he knew the answer. Her tear-streaked face, swollen eyes and red nose said it all.
Dylan hadn’t returned.
His mother rose, took a couple of halting steps toward him and collapsed in his arms. He held her while she wept.
When had his mother become so frail? Bird bones, he thought, as she shuddered in his embrace. Over the top of her head, Sawyer met his father’s eyes. The torment in them was a reflection of what he felt himself.
One of the park rangers walked over. “Mr. Evans, we need to speak with you.”
* * *
SHANNON CLEMENS’S DREAM had finally come true. She was now officially a member of the San Diego Police Department’s K-9 Unit. Not on probation anymore, but a full-fledged K-9 officer, with her own specialization. It hadn’t come easy. She’d worked diligently for it.
The K-9 Unit was one of the toughest in the department to get into.
And she’d done it! For the last few months, she’d been conferring with the unit’s captain, Logan O’Connor, to identify the appropriate specialization for her and her police-service dog, Darwin. Well, now she was formally assigned to do search and rescue. She’d thought she might want to do explosives detection, but the incident at the San Diego International Airport half a year ago had helped her decide against it. Search and rescue presented its own challenges for her, but maybe it was destined that was where she’d end up.
She shifted her head on the pillow and watched the beautiful brown-and-black German shepherd lying on his own bed in a corner of her room. Darwin was only two years old, and was already showing exemplary skills and high detection accuracy. He was born in the Czech Republic, bred to be a service dog and had joined the SDPD K-9 Unit about the same time Shannon had. He was trained in tracking, building and area searches, article search, suspect apprehension and, like all dogs in the unit, handler protection and obedience. She was proud of Darwin, not just because she loved him, but because she’d been instrumental in his training.
Darwin moaned in his sleep and curled into a tighter ball. Shannon grinned at the way he’d tucked his snout under his tail.
She couldn’t believe that Darwin was assigned to her and she had her dream job. Here they were...partners!
When her cell phone rang, Darwin immediately looked up. Shannon glanced at her bedside clock as she reached for the phone on her nightstand. It was just after six.
“Clemens,” she said.
“Officer Clemens, this is Dispatch. I’m sorry to call you on your day off, but we have an incident at Cuyamaca Rancho State Park. Usually we’d send Officer Palmer and Scout for this, but he’s not available at present.”
Shannon swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. Since Darwin had stroll
ed over, she rubbed him behind the ears. She knew that Cal Palmer, the only other SDPD K-9–Unit officer who specialized in search and rescue, was enjoying a well-deserved vacation. He and his wife, Jessica, were due to have a baby soon, and they’d decided to take their two girls on a Disney cruise before the arrival of their new addition. They were on a ship, and there was no way to summon Cal back, even if the SDPD had wanted to.
“No problem,” Shannon said. “What’s the situation?”
“We have a missing child. Four years old. He reportedly wandered away from his family’s campsite. We don’t know how long he’s been gone, but the State Park Rangers don’t want to take any chances. They’ve asked for our assistance in finding the boy. They need all the help they can get to cover the twenty-six thousand acres of forest, should it come to that.”
Shannon was familiar with the park, roughly forty miles east of San Diego in the Laguna Mountains. She’d frequented it with her family and her childhood friend, Kenny, when she was younger, and now she liked to go hiking there. In fact, she’d run training exercises in the park with Darwin.
But a missing child...that was not what she would’ve wanted for her first solo search assignment.
She tried to ignore the cold dread that slithered along her spine and wrote down the particulars.
The missing boy was four-year-old Dylan Evans. His father, a professor at Thomas Jefferson School of Law. Shannon’s heart went out to the man. She was certain the last thing he would’ve expected when he went camping with his family was that he’d wake up in the early hours of the morning to discover that his son had somehow gotten out of their tent and disappeared. Dylan was potentially alone in a wilderness that was home to mountain lions and other creatures that posed a threat to a young boy’s survival.
Oh, she was well aware of the hazards a child could face in the park on his own. Time was very much of the essence.
“I’m on it,” she said and glanced at her clock again. “I should be there in under an hour.”
She didn’t bother to shower. While Darwin ate his breakfast, she had a toasted bagel, then dressed quickly. To get her chin-length blond hair in some semblance of order, she ran a wet brush through it. She retrieved her equipment duffel from the bottom of her closet and rushed down the stairs.