“I was.” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, a wicked smile tugging at the corner of her mouth that completely ruined the innocence she was obviously striving for. “Then you started in about manners and asses, and it all went left quick.”
He couldn’t help it; he threw back his head, laughing. Long and hard. And damn if it didn’t feel good. Warm and...cleansing. He brought her hand, still clasped in his, to his mouth and pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles in gratitude.
Her soft gasp reached his ears. Without his permission, his gaze dropped to her mouth. How would that puff of breath feel across his lips if he bent his head over hers?
“What do you see, Sydney?” he asked again, choosing not to acknowledge the question in those liquid brown eyes.
She jerked her head away, obeying his request. For several moments, she studied their surroundings, and when she returned her attention to him, she shook her head. “The same place I left eight years ago.”
“No,” he objected. He held the ice cream cone out to her, and when she shook her head, he tossed it into a nearby garbage can. Then, stepping behind her, he settled his hands on her slim shoulders. “You’re looking out the eyes of that hurt, misunderstood teenage girl. What does the mature, successful woman see now?” When she remained quiet, he offered, “Let me help. See the pharmacy?” he asked, slightly turning her to the left where the store had stood since his parents had been born. “Mr. Price used to run it with an iron fist and pretty much bark at every kid who came in there. Talk about crotchety.” The corner of his mouth quirked at her “hell yeah.”
“But now, he has grandkids, twin girls, and you wouldn’t recognize the old man. He actually—wait for it—smiles. And his daughter helps run the pharmacy. She’s enlarged the cosmetics and toy sections, and even added audiobooks.”
Again, he turned her, so they both surveyed the sprawl of the town and the breathtaking view of Monument Mountain and Mount Everett soaring above it.
“We have a new nondenominational church and a synagogue. The resource center hosts several advocacy programs for our LGBTQ community, to provide support for their mental and physical health, and helping them lead successful lives in an often intolerant world. We have a Puerto Rican mayor.” He nodded. “What I want you to see, Sydney, is that yes, we’re still the same in the way that you’re still the same person who left here. But just like you’ve grown and changed, so have we. Just give us a chance to show you. To welcome you.”
Several beats of silence passed between them, and he was about to release her and continue on their walk when her quiet voice halted him.
“What if the woman is still hurt?”
He barely caught that low whisper. It throbbed with old wounds. But he did catch it. And he lowered his head, bracing his jaw against the side of her head, her curls tickling his chin, mouth and cheek. Vanilla filled his nose, and he subtly inhaled the scent.
“That’s okay. Because she’s not too old to be healed. And she’ll find healing right here in the very place she ran from.”
Like you did.
But he ignored that taunting voice. Her situation and his were different. There was no redemption or miracle cure for him. The best part of him was buried in the cemetery behind St. John’s.
He shifted from behind her, taking her hand again. This time she didn’t hesitate to enfold her fingers around his. That tiny show of trust shouldn’t have struck him in the chest like a fist. Shouldn’t have had him battling the need to tunnel his fingers through those thick, sexy curls to tip her head back and brush her lips with a kiss of thankfulness.
Don’t miss what happens next in...The Road to Rose Bend by Naima Simone
Available May 2021 wherever HQN books and ebooks are sold.
www.Harlequin.com
Copyright © 2021 by Naima Simone
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Marriage He Demands by Brenda Jackson.
The Marriage He Demands
by Brenda Jackson
One
“What’s wrong, Cash?”
Cashen Outlaw eased down into the chair in front of his brother Garth’s desk. He then said the words he’d never thought about saying. “Bart just called. He got word that Ellen has died.”
Garth Outlaw leaned forward in his chair as he studied his brother. “I’m sorry to hear that, Cash.”
Cash nodded, at the moment not able to reply. Their father, Bart, had been married five times. Each of his sons had a different mother. Ellen had been Bart’s third wife, and Cash’s mother. Like the two wives before her and the two after, Bart had managed to divorce Ellen and get full custody of any child born to their union.
Cash didn’t really recall his mother. He still had a picture of her tucked away that had yellowed with age. She was the only one of the five wives who’d called Bart’s bluff and took him to court for custody of their son. She lost the battle and was never heard from again. Over the years, Cash hadn’t received even a telephone call, birthday card or holiday greeting. It was as if she’d dropped off the face of the earth.
He had often thought about finding her, but didn’t want to risk the pain of rejection like Garth had felt when he’d found his mother. Over the years Cash had decided that if his mother ever wanted to see him, she knew where he was. He and his family still lived in Fairbanks, Alaska, where their multimillion-dollar company, Outlaw Freight Lines, was located.
“When is the funeral, so the four of us can be there for you? I’ll let Sloan, Maverick and Jess know. Charm won’t be returning from Australia until next month.”
Twenty-five-year-old Charm was their only sister and the youngest of all Bart’s offspring. To this day, Charm’s mother, Claudia, was the only woman Bart had ever loved, and she’d been the only one Bart had not married...but not for lack of trying.
“No need. Ellen didn’t want a memorial service, and there won’t be a funeral either. According to the information Bart received, Ellen wanted her body donated to science. Her attorney wants me there for the reading of the will on Friday. I’m surprised I was named in it.”
“And where are you headed?” Garth asked his brother.
“A place called Black Crow, Wyoming.”
“Do you need Regan to fly you there in the company plane? I can go along for support if you need it.” Regan was the company pilot and Garth’s wife. They had been married for nearly ten months.
“Black Crow is right outside of Laramie. I plan to gas up my plane and fly myself since it’s less than a five-hour trip from here.”
Cash and all his siblings had their pilot licenses. Due to Alaska’s very limited road system, one of the most common ways of getting around was by aircraft. Locals liked to say that more Alaskans owned personal planes than cars.
“Okay, but if you change your mind, let me know.”
“I will.”
* * *
Two days later, Cash flew his Cessna to the Laramie Regional Airport. He’d ordered a rental car to be there when he arrived, and it was. Shifting his cell phone to the other ear, he tossed his overnight bag in the back seat as he continued his conversation with his sister, Charm. She was calling from Australia with her condolences.
Charm had tagged along with Garth’s best friend, Walker Rafferty, and his wife, Bailey, on a trip to visit Bailey’s sister, Gemma, who lived in Australia.
“Thanks, Charm, but you know the real deal with this. It’s not like me and Ellen had a close relationship. Like I told Garth, I’m surprised she remembered I existed long enough to put me in a will.”
Cash glanced at his watch before starting the car and switching the phone call to the vehicle’s speaker system. He would get a good night’s sleep, and be at the meeting with the attorney in the morning at eleven. Then he would leave, head back to the airport and fly home to Fairbanks.
“I need to end the call, Charm, so I can concentrate on following the d
irections to Black Crow. I’ll talk to you later, kid.”
As Cash headed for the interstate, he thought about the conversation he’d had with his father before leaving. Bart was typical Bart. Even with six adult offspring, their old man still assumed it was his God-given right to stick his nose into their business when it didn’t concern him.
Cash had put Bart in his place just that morning when he’d tried telling Cash to make sure he got everything his mother owned because it was rightly due him. Cash had made it clear to Bart that he didn’t want a single thing. He’d even seriously thought about not showing up for the reading of the will. As far as he was concerned, it was too late for Ellen to make up for the years she had been absent from his life. The only reason he had decided to come was for closure.
The drive from Laramie to Black Crow took less than an hour. He couldn’t help wondering when his mother had moved to Wyoming. According to Bart, when she left Fairbanks thirty-four years ago, she had moved to New York.
Cash saw the marker denoting the entrance into Black Crow’s city limits, and recalled all he’d learned from doing an internet search last night before going to bed. It had first been inhabited by the Black Crow Indian tribe, from which the town derived its name. The present population was less than two thousand people, and most fought to retain an old-town feel, which was evident by the architecture of the buildings. He’d read that if any of the inhabitants thought Black Crow wasn’t progressive enough for them, they were quickly invited to leave. But few people left and most had lived in the area for years. It was a close-knit place.
He came to a traffic light and watched numerous people walking around, going into the various shops. As he sat there, tapping his hand on the steering wheel, his gaze homed in on a woman who was walking out of an ice-cream shop. She was strikingly beautiful. He couldn’t help noticing how she worked her mouth on her ice-cream cone, and he could just imagine her working her mouth on him the same way.
Cash drew in a deep breath as he shifted in the seat. She looked pretty damn good in her pullover sweater and a pair of jeans. If she was a sampling of what Black Crow had to offer, then maybe he needed to hang around for another day or two and not be so quick to leave town tomorrow.
He chuckled, thinking it would take more than a beautiful face and a gorgeous body to keep him in this town. Besides, he doubted that even if he stayed he’d be able to find her. He had more to do with his time than chase down a woman. Chances were, she was wearing some guy’s ring. There was no way a woman who looked like her was not spoken for.
The driver behind him beeped his horn to let Cash know the traffic light had changed and it was time to move on. Not able to resist temptation, he glanced back for one final look at the woman and saw she was gone.
Just as well.
* * *
Brianna Banks entered the attorney’s office the next morning. “Good morning, Lois.”
The older woman glanced up at Brianna and smiled. “Good morning, Brianna. You’re early.”
“Is Mr. Cavanaugh in?”
“Yes, he’s here, and since you and Mr. Outlaw are the only two needed for the reading of the will, we can get started as soon as he arrives.” Lois Inglese then leaned over the desk and said in a low voice, “I didn’t know Ellen had a son. Did you?”
Brianna drew in a deep breath. She liked Lois. Had known the fifty-something-year-old woman all her life. The one thing she also knew was that Lois had a penchant for gossip. More than once, Lois had gotten in hot water with Mr. Cavanaugh for discussing things that should be confidential.
“I’d rather not say, Lois.” Brianna checked her watch. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take a seat over there and wait.”
Lois’s smile faded when she realized Brianna would not divulge any information.
Brianna crossed the room to take a chair by the window that overlooked Eagle Bend River. Although she had known about Ellen’s son, Lois was the last person Brianna would admit anything to. She’d also known of their strained relationship, which was the main reason Brianna was prepared to not like him. Besides, there was a chance he might not show up today.
She picked up a magazine, deciding that whether the man showed up was not her concern. Brianna was thankful that Ellen had thought enough of her to include her in the will. She would appreciate whatever Ellen left for her.
Everything Brianna had done for Ellen in her final days had been because Brianna had wanted to do so. Ellen had been there for her when she’d been a kid who lived on the Blazing Frontier Dude Ranch. Brianna’s mother had managed the ranch and her father had been head foreman.
Brianna glanced up when the door opened and a tall, handsome man walked in. She recognized him immediately. She had seen a picture of him once, when he’d been ten years or so younger. She’d thought he was a hottie then. However, the man she saw now was so strikingly handsome, she could say she had never seen a man who looked that gorgeous before in her life.
The man was none other than Ms. Ellen’s son, Cashen Outlaw.
From where Brianna was sitting, on the other side of the huge potted plant, he couldn’t see her, which gave her the perfect opportunity to ogle him. He was dressed to the nines in a dark business suit. Very few men in Black Crow wore business suits; they probably didn’t even own one. That included the attorneys and politicians. This was strictly a jeans and Western shirt town. Heck, they didn’t even dress up for church.
The only time she saw a man in a suit these days was at funerals or when she drove into Laramie. Even Jackson, which was considered the top city in Wyoming when it came to education, jobs and other amenities, still had a very casual dress code. But she had no problem looking at this man, especially when the suit appeared tailor-made just for him.
She figured his height was every bit of six-two or three, and all she saw was his profile. That was enough to send sensations she hadn’t felt in months—even years—flowing through her. She couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying to Lois, but it was obvious the older woman was hanging on his every word. That proved a woman was never too old to appreciate a nice-looking man.
She really couldn’t blame Lois. Cashen Outlaw had a commanding presence. A prime example of raw male power and self-confidence.
At that moment Henry Cavanaugh’s office door opened and the older man, who’d been practicing law in Black Crow before Brianna was born, stepped out wearing jeans and a crisply starched chambray shirt.
Mr. Cavanaugh smiled at her and said, “Hello, Brianna.” He shook her hand before moving toward the other man, introducing himself.
That is when Cashen glanced over at her, seeing her for the first time. The moment their gazes connected she felt weak in the knees. Lordy, he had beautiful almond-colored skin, a striking pair of dark eyes and hair that was neatly trimmed. He had a square-cut jaw and a wide, firm mouth with full lips that was perfect for his face. What really had her heart racing was a sexy pair of dimples that came into full display when he smiled.
He moved to stand beside Mr. Cavanaugh, and she saw how well his suit accentuated his solid frame. She had a feeling he would look absolutely male in anything he wore. And he smelled good. She was certain the arousing scent was him and not Mr. Cavanaugh.
“Let me introduce the two of you,” Mr. Cavanaugh was saying, breaking into her thoughts. “Cashen Outlaw, this is Brianna Banks. She is the other person named in your mother’s will.”
If Mr. Cavanaugh’s revelation surprised him, the man didn’t show it. He merely extended his hand out to her. “Nice meeting you, Brianna.”
“Same here, Cashen.”
His smiled widened a fraction when he said, “Please, just Cash.”
“Cash,” she repeated, not able to tear her gaze from his. He was still holding her hand and his touch felt downright overwhelming.
“The two of you can step into my office.”
With Mr. Cavan
augh’s statement, Cash released her hand and said, “After you, Brianna.”
“Thank you.”
She followed Mr. Cavanaugh, and Cash brought up the rear. She did not have to glance over at Lois to know the older woman’s eyes had watched their every move. At the moment Brianna didn’t care. Her main concern was how she would share the same space with Cash Outlaw and keep herself from drooling.
Copyright © 2021 by Brenda Streater Jackson
ISBN-13: 9781488076442
Follow Your Heart
Copyright © 2021 by Brenda Streater Jackson
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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