His Country Heart
Page 20
Find out how Amy and Wyatt met. Read an expert of Her Country Heart Christmas Edition book one Sierra Creek Series
Her Country Heart
CHAPTER 1
“Sierra Creek,” the driver shouted as the Greyhound Bus came to an abrupt stop on the two lane highway.
Amy Long pushed her hair behind her ears and grabbed her worn suitcase. Surprised to see her hand tremble, she seized the case with both hands and rushed toward the front of the bus.
A gust of hot wind slapped her face as she stepped off the bus. Gravel pelted her bare legs when it drove away. She squinted and read a faded road sign, Sierra Creek population five thousand. There wasn’t a building in sight.
After years of living in the city, she’d forgotten how sweltering and desolate it was here. She’d vowed never to return home. Odd it was the first place that came to mind when she and her young son needed a fresh start.
With Granny gone, there was no family left to welcome her. She swallowed a sob. Maybe it was a mistake to come back.
The relentless afternoon sun beat down on her shoulders and her arms began to burn. San Francisco, the air-conditioned city, seemed a million miles away.
Impatient, she cleared her dry throat, wiped perspiration from her forehead, and let out a groan as the minutes ticked by. What wouldn’t she give for some shade and a bottle of ice water?
With a sigh, she pulled out her smart phone and checked the time. Thirty minutes since she’d arrived at the bus stop and not a single car had gone by. Where was the arranged ride into town?
Granny’s handyman was supposed to meet her. He obviously wasn’t a stickler about being on time. She reminded herself she was in the California foothills not in a busy metropolis where time was money.
The sound of a truck rumbled in the distance. With the back of her hand, she pushed her bangs out of her eyes and squinted. Hopeful, she watched the pick-up come closer. A shiny black Ford F 150 with extended cab pulled up in front of her.
“Amy?” A man yelled through the open window as his brown hair fell casually over a high forehead and deep-set blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight. She moved nearer and stared at his wide cheekbones, square jaw and full lips. About thirty?
A flutter of recognition stirred in her as palpable charm radiated from his broad smile, Wyatt Cameron.
His muscular arms flexed as his huge hands squeezed the steering wheel. “Don’t just stand there. Get in.”
Surprised by his gruffness, she stepped back.
“I heard you need a ride into town,” he said quietly as if he understood her reaction. “It’s Wyatt.”
“Hi, nice to see you again.” Even now her cheeks burned with the memory of him. She tightened the grip on the suitcase. As she stared her heartbeat increased and her breathing quickened. “Granny’s handyman is going to give me a ride.”
“You could say that’s me. Toss your suitcase in the back and get in the truck.”
She shook the pebbles from her flip flops and picked up her suitcase. Filled with everything she and her son might need, she grunted and struggled to lift the enormous bag high enough to push it into the raised truck bed.
Wyatt hopped out of the cab and brushed by her. With a sharp intake of breath, she took in his fresh just-out–of–the-shower scent.
Effortlessly, he tossed the bag into the truck.
She quickly hauled herself into the vehicle and slammed the door. “Nice pick-up. Beautiful upholstery,” she said trying for casual conversation. She ran her hand over the black and white leather seat.
“It’s custom. Had it done in Sacramento by a guy who specializes it tuck and roll car seats.”
“Really nice.”
Pretty fancy truck for handyman. The job must pay better than she’d thought. For some reason she’d believed Granny’s handyman would be an old retired guy gnarled from too much sun and hard work, not the hunk sitting next to her.
“Where’s your son? Thought he’d be with you.”
“He’s staying with a friend of mine in San Francisco. Bobby’s only four. I thought it’d be better if I took care of things here before he comes to the farm.” She paused. “It’s only been a few hours since I left and I already miss him.”
She sighed, leaned against the back seat and let the air-conditioned breeze wash over her. The purr of the truck’s engine soothed her and her breathing slowed.
“Thanks for picking me up. If you drop me at my grandmother’s farm I’ll…”
“It’s too late for that. We can’t keep Judge Wilcox waiting.”
Expert of Money Power and Poison for a little suspense
Money Power and Poison
Can love survive against the odds?
Chapter One
In the midnight gloom of a residential street in Carmel, California, business owner Kathryn Carlyle watched the city’s dim lights from the back seat of a speeding police car. She gasped for air as dread tightened her throat. This can’t be happening to me.
The catering van she drove to billionaire software developer Conner Harrison’s birthday party had been impounded by the police as evidence. She rubbed her throbbing temples to release the pain accumulated there.
Two blocks from her beachfront condo, she snatched a breath of air. “Please stop. I have to get out.”
The middle-aged officer guided the patrol car to the curb. “We’re not finished with you. Go, but don’t leave town.”
He’d probably been waiting all night to use that cliché. Don’t leave town. She almost laughed, except nothing funny had happened tonight.
She exited the car and inhaled the sea breeze as it rustled her hair. It was such a welcome change from the stifling atmosphere that contaminated the police station where she’d spent the last few hours. How long before the man came back to arrest her?
Relieved to be in her safe neighborhood, she took a deeper breath, kicked off her black leather pumps and sat on a driftwood log overlooking the serene bay.
She swallowed as nausea swirled in her stomach. The fact that she hadn't eaten since breakfast didn’t help. Always nervous before an event, she’d planned to eat after Mr. Harrison’s party. Now he hovered near death. The thought of eating brought bile to the back of her throat. Why did the authorities think she poisoned a man she’d only met once?
A nightmare had snared her and was holding her in its grip. When Mr. Harrison died the charge against her would be murder in the first degree.
As the realization crept through her, she tensed. Two deep breaths calmed her, but didn't stop the headache forming over her right eye.
True she’d had the opportunity to poison him, but no motive. She only met him because he’d asked her to cater his birthday party. With his death, there was nothing to gain and a lot to lose, her reputation, her business, her life.
In the morning the police would sort out the truth of her innocence. Still, adrenaline caused her heart to race. She rubbed her temples and tried not to think anymore.
A gust of wind circled her. She shivered and folded her arms in front of her. Damn. Her suit jacket was still in the patrol car.
She stood and brushed the sand from the back of her skirt and picked up her high heels and shoulder bag. Time to go home, sleep was doubtful, still at least she’d put up her sore feet.
Leaves crunched somewhere in the shadows of the nearby trees, she squinted into the darkness but didn’t see anyone. Even so, fear gripped her.
She forced her swollen feet back into her pumps and walked quickly up the dimly lit street. The click of her heels echoed in the quiet night air. The desire to flee from an unknown danger increased the speed of her footsteps.
With the exception of a black truck parked at the curb, the street was empty. The pickup’s engine revved. The cab light came on and cast an eerie glow on the driver’s face. He smiled at her.
As she thought about waving to let him know the headlights were off, the vehicle drove straight at her. It jumped the curb, sideswiped her, sending her fly
ing.
With a thud, she landed on the muddy front lawn of a neighboring condominium. The sound of the engine faded as the vehicle disappeared.
She lay motionless on the ground. Cold mud oozed into the fabric of her skirt. A twinge jabbed her and terror banged against her rib cage.
Overriding the sense of shock was her need to get home where she’d be safe. She grabbed the strap of her purse and attempted to stand. Pain shot through her hip and down her leg. She fell back into the mud.
A man dressed in black came out of the darkness and stood over her. Before she could cry out, he bent down and covered her mouth with his huge hand.
“Don’t scream. You’ll wake the whole neighborhood. I’m not going to hurt you.” He helped her stand.
The streetlight lit his face and a lock of coffee brown hair fell over his furrowed brow. Five o’clock shadow covered his jaw and his full lips formed a grim line. Compassion shone in his obsidian eyes. It was incongruous to his hardened expression. He reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t think of a name.
“Your uncle sent me,” he said in a deep voice.
“You were at the police station.” She pushed a strand of hair from her face.
“Yeah. Thought I could talk to you. They wouldn’t allow it. Can you stand by yourself?”
“I think so.” A spasm shot in her leg and her knees buckled. She grabbed him and reluctantly leaned on his lanky body for support.
“I’ll call 911.” He held her to him.
“Don’t phone them.”
“You’re hurt.”
“I’m okay.”
“The police need to know about this. Use my cell.”
“No. I can’t handle it. Not tonight. I’m cold. I’m muddy. I just want to go home.”
“Can you walk?”
“Yeah,” she said, hoping she could. The first step sent pain racing through her. She gasped.
With one hand he steadied her. With the other, he yanked a smart phone from his pocket. “What’s your address?”
“330 Sea View Avenue, number three.”
He punched in 911. “There’s been an accident. A woman’s hurt. I need an ambulance sent to 330 Sea View Avenue number three ASAP.”
After he pocketed his phone, he carefully scooped her up in his arms. “Let’s get you home.”
Never one to ask for help, this time she need it and balanced herself by putting her arm around his neck. His body heat warmed her as her cheek rested against his solid chest. Odd how protected she felt, almost as if this stranger were an old friend.
About Reggi Allder
Reggi Allder writes suspense and contemporary romance, including the Sierra Creek Series and the suspense Money Power and Poison. She studied creative writing and screen writing at UCLA and is a past chapter present of Romance Writers of America. She is happy to hear from her readers.
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Reggi’s Books
Contemporary Romance
Sierra Creek Series
Her Country Heart Christmas Edition
His country Heart Book 2
Her Country Heart Book 1
Watch for Our Country Heart Book 3
Romantic Suspense
Money Power and Poison
Shattered Rules
Historical Novelette
With Glowing Hearts
Amazon Page
www.amazon.com/author/reggiallder
www.reggiallder.com