How close is too close to the flame?
Sam Blackburn excels at fighting fire with fire in Tennessee, whether it’s putting out deadly forest blazes or rescuing his old friend, widow Avery Montague, who’s lost her nerve on a steep mountain cliff. What happened to the daring, adventure-loving teenager who wasn’t afraid of anything? As kids, Avery was always pushing Sam to be brave, to be better, so he’s ready to return the favor. Except he’s up for his dream job in Colorado as a hotshot smoke jumper, and he can’t be in two places at once. His future is fraught with risk, but what’s the point of living if you don’t take chances? He just wants Avery to find the courage to go after what she wants, and he’s hoping it’s him...
“I’m going to find what makes me happy, Sam. And then I’m going to do it.” Avery tipped her chin up and met his stare. “Dare me.”
She might as well have been seventeen again, but the feelings he had were so different. Instead of wanting to beat her in whatever race they cooked up, he wanted to help her, to encourage her. A breeze sent one curl over her forehead to land across her eyes. Before she could brush it away, he smoothed it aside, happy to see the spark of determination in her gaze. “Do it, AA. You’re the only one who can.”
Sam knew there was never going to be another moment to try it—the kiss that could settle everything. The woods were quiet. The water was turning golden with the sunrise. The two of them belonged in that spot at that time.
So he slowly pressed his mouth against hers, the sweet taste of her lips completing the most perfect moment...ever.
Dear Reader,
Sometimes the only way to move forward is to go back.
In Smoky Mountain Sweethearts, the first book of my new miniseries, I have a smart, formerly fearless heroine who desperately needs something to shake her up, and a hero who has never failed to push her higher.
After experiencing a tragic, heartbreaking loss, Avery Montague returns home to her small town, searching for what (or whom) it will take for her to become herself again. Meanwhile, childhood friend Sam Blackburn’s certain a new firefighting job is the challenge he’s been looking for—until he rediscovers Avery. Add in family, friends and the hiking that they love, and special things start happening for Avery and Sam. I hope you enjoy spending time racing up the trails of east Tennessee with them!
To find out more about my books and what’s coming next in the Otter Lake Ranger Station miniseries, visit me at cherylharperbooks.com and find me on Twitter, @cherylharperbks.
Happy reading!
Cheryl
Smoky Mountain Sweethearts
USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Cheryl Harper
Cheryl Harper discovered her love for books and words as a little girl, thanks to a mother who made countless library trips and an introduction to Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House stories. Whether stories are set in the prairie, the American West, Regency England or Earth a hundred years in the future, Cheryl enjoys strong characters who make her laugh. Now Cheryl spends her days searching for the right words while she stares out the window and her dog, Jack, snoozes beside her. And she considers herself very lucky to do so.
For more information about Cheryl’s books, visit her online at cherylharperbooks.com or follow her on Twitter, @cherylharperbks.
Books by Cheryl Harper
Harlequin Heartwarming
A Home Come True
Keeping Cole’s Promise
Heart’s Refuge
Winner Takes All
The Bluebird Bet
A Minute on the Lips
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To the men and women who protect and preserve America’s wild places, open spaces, and the plants and animals that call them home, thank you.
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
EXCERPT FROM A PRICELESS FIND BY KATE JAMES
CHAPTER ONE
BEING ROUSTED OUT of bed like she was thirteen again wasn’t how Avery Montague thought she’d start the last Friday before her thirty-fifth birthday, but her mother had never let little things like closed doors stand in her way.
If she’d wanted to sleep in, Avery never should have gotten hotel rooms with connecting doors.
“Get up. We can’t miss that flight.” The long a in “can’t” sounded so much like home that Avery had to wait for a second to let the wash of homesickness fade. Every one of her mother’s cain’ts used to drive her crazy. On the few occasions she’d managed to talk her husband, Robert, into a visit at the holidays, they’d locked eyes to communicate silently whenever her mother said it. He’d been amused at Avery’s pet peeve.
Homesickness was chased away with the dueling realizations that he was still gone and she was free to do whatever she wanted again. That freedom wasn’t a gift most days.
After almost ten years of marriage, including three years of being his nurse, she’d spent the last two years adjusting to the realization that she could step out the door without fearing that life would never be the same when she came back home.
No matter what she did from this point, her life would never be the same. The dream of building a family with the man who’d derailed the plans she’d made at eighteen was over.
But her life? It kept on going, one hour dragging into the next. Some days she had to brush away the thought of how much simpler it would be to just...stop.
“We won’t miss the flight, Mama. I’m packed. Let me put on some clothes and run a brush through my hair and I’m ready.” Avery slipped out of the adequate sheets the airport hotel preferred and ignored her mother’s gasp as she padded barefoot across the floor.
“Gonna bring back a toe rot or something, girl, if you don’t put your shoes on.” Her mother was fussing with the large bag of cosmetics she almost never let out of her sight.
The laugh that bubbled out surprised Avery. Trust her mother to say something to make it easier to go on. “Toe rot? That’s what you’re worried about?” Avery studied the carpet from the bathroom and realized her mother might have a good point. The suspicious stains had clearly been cleaned more than once, but who knew how long it took for toe rot to disappear?
Her mother was wagging a perfectly French-manicured finger at her when Avery wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You don’t watch enough news programs, Avery Anne Abernathy. I am telling you, there is funk in that carpet.”
Whatever funk she got from walking unprotected across hotel carpet might be worth it for the way her mouth held a smile as she headed back into the bedroom. For so long, she’d had nothing to smile about, but now she was going home.
One quick glance in the
mirror was all it took to know she was leaving in the nick of time. The dark circles under her eyes were familiar. So was the gray in her short hair. Only the small curve of her lips, which surprised and pleased her, seemed out of place.
If she didn’t hurry, her mother would barge back in with a can of hair spray in one hand and her leftover cheesecake in the other. She’d be forced to eat while her mother teased and sprayed. Then they would definitely miss their flight into Knoxville, and Avery wasn’t sure how well she’d weather a setback like that.
She quickly slipped on the jeans that were so loose they were uncomfortable and yanked on a sweater. For years, through Robert’s treatments and hospital stays, Avery had learned never to leave home without layers. It might be October, but the cold had become a permanent part of her life.
Her mother was still fussing when Avery stepped out of the bathroom. Her view from her room into the connecting room showed a whirlwind of destruction. “Mama, you only slept in that bed for one night. What in the world were you doing?” The sheets were tumbled into a ball while all the pillows save one were stacked against the headboard in a teetering tower. Avery was worn out just studying the mess.
“Hunting for the bedbugs.” Janet Abernathy rolled her eyes. “Hotels are famous for bedbugs.”
Avery almost argued with her. If hotels were famous for bedbugs, no one would stay in them, ever. And this airport business-class hotel might not be big on amenities or renovation, but it was clean enough. Arguing wouldn’t change her mother’s mind, though. Janet Abernathy never missed a news program. Because of that, she knew the world outside of Sweetwater, Tennessee, was filled with dangers. Only constant vigilance would do.
Avery’s suitcase was still on the side of the bed where she’d left it. If her mother’s room was an after shot of a crime-scene investigation, hers was barely disturbed. At least she’d slept through the night. She was beginning to depend on that.
With a shove of her hairbrush and the clothes she’d slept in into her bag, Avery was packed. She quickly zipped up the suitcase and slipped on her flats while she smiled again at her mother’s relieved sigh.
“Do we need to call a cab?” her mother asked as she looked one last time in the mirror over the desk.
“No, they’ll get us one downstairs,” Avery said as she moved to stand next to the door.
“I can wait if you’d like to put on lipstick,” her mother said with an encouraging nod. “I have choices.”
“And I still don’t care to see them,” Avery answered as she pulled open the door. “We better hurry.” They were still two hours before boarding, but it was important to both of them that they get home soon. And coffee was the only thing that would make this day bearable.
Avery handled the checkout while her mother fiddled nervously with her bags, her hair and her rings, both eyes locked to the muted cable news channel running in the hotel lobby. “It’s okay, Mama. We’ll be home soon.”
Instead of fussing back, her mother reached over and squeezed Avery’s hand. “And I’ll be glad to know you’re safe, my girl.”
The tears that sprang to Avery’s eyes were disappointing. For months, she had been fighting these stupid emotions that blindsided her when she was least expecting them. She’d gone to therapy and used antidepressants and self-help books. Still, the tears were there, under the surface. This wasn’t like her at all.
If she was going home and planning on leaving the house at some point, she had to get that control back. The day she’d been packing and opened the front door of the house to find her mother standing on the step, she’d buckled so badly under the weight of the tears that she was certain her mother would never look at her the same.
Avery Abernathy had only cried when she was mad or when her father died.
Avery Montague cried at the drop of a hat.
Herding her mother through Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport was the perfect distraction from any worries she might have. It was a bit like keeping up with a teenager who had a credit card with no limit. When they finally sat down at the gate, Avery was on her second cup of coffee and her mother had a load of shopping bags.
“Watch my seat. I have to go to the ladies’.”
Probably to put on more lipstick.
Avery wrestled the lid off her cup and blew to cool down the coffee she desperately needed.
At least she’d done the hard part. The bags were checked, except for her mother’s airport must-haves. When they landed in Knoxville, Avery would do her best to hustle her mother right to baggage claim and on out into the parking lot.
The businessman seated opposite her pointed at all the bags stacked in the chair. “Forget a few things?” His charming smile was easy to answer.
“I think it was more about killing time.” Avery sipped her coffee and watched her mother meander around the newsstand across the way. She had two magazines in one hand already.
“Is Knoxville home?” the guy asked as he set his computer aside.
“No, over an hour away.” Her home had been in Chicago for almost ten years, but it was easy enough to understand his question. And Sweetwater was where she was headed to stay.
“I’m based out of Knoxville.” He reached for his wallet to pull out a card and hand it to her. “I’m Chuck. Nice to meet you.”
Chuck Armstrong was a liquor distributor, apparently. Why would she need his card?
“Nice to meet you, too,” Avery said and laid the card carefully next to her on the seat. She’d drop it in the trash somewhere to avoid hurting his feelings. Maybe he thought she had a restaurant or something.
“Lookee what I found,” her mother crowed as she plopped down next to Avery. “Cute actors. Cute singers. Cute designers. And cute dogs. If you can’t find something to read in this stack, you ain’t even trying.” She dropped the magazines in Avery’s lap and pulled off the one on top. “This one’s mine.”
“Cute couches. That’s what you’re going with?” Her mother devoured decorating shows, books and magazines, and occasionally decided to revamp the house Avery had grown up in. “What color is the living room now, Mama?”
Her mother sighed. “You don’t remember how many paint chips I tested?” Their conversations for a while had been all about her mother’s projects, mainly because Avery had stared at hospital walls and nothing else for days straight. “Colonial gray. That’s what I’ve got right now.” She tapped the white sofa with splashes of bright red flowers. “This would be darling.”
It would. Years of study meant Janet Abernathy had a good eye. “Have you ever thought about opening up an interior-design business?”
Her mother straightened in her seat and shot her a surprised glance. Then she laughed as if Avery had said the most amusing thing she’d heard in a while. “It’s a hobby. I don’t have any training. And who in Sweetwater’s going to be hiring an interior designer? No, ma’am. Right now, my focus is on you. Once you’re home, everything will be okay.” She turned the page slowly and then folded the corner down so she’d remember to come back to it. If she’d been in a better frame of mind, stronger, Avery would have insisted they talk about this. Her mother needed more in her life.
At this point, Avery was not in a position to argue, but having her mother’s attention focused solely on her? This could be a problem.
“I like working at the school part-time, here and there as needed. It’s never dull,” her mother said with a careless shrug. Since her eyes never met Avery’s, it was hard to decide if she meant what she was saying. “Are you thinking of opening up a...something? Going into business for yourself? It ain’t easy. I mean, I don’t know why you can’t go back to school, but...”
This was her mother’s subtle way of asking what Avery was going to do with the rest of her life. Since she’d been mainly focused on tying up all the loose ends left by Robert’s death, c
losing up and selling their two-story house, and sleeping sixteen hours a day, Avery hadn’t had much time for career planning. The first several times her mother had asked, Avery had shut her down. Sharply.
Going back to law school? All she could imagine was the stress and terrible grief from the memories it would no doubt provoke.
That was where she’d met Robert.
She couldn’t go back.
Her mother would continue to ask what Avery planned to be when she grew up. She needed a better answer.
And after almost two years, she should have one.
“Maybe. I don’t know yet.” As long as she was happy living with her mother, Avery could float for a long time without any income at all.
Her mother wouldn’t be satisfied to leave her alone for more than a week.
“Girl who put herself through college...”
But never graduated law school.
Her mother’s mutters trailed off, but it was easy to see that she disapproved of Avery’s lack of focus. At least she’d learned a bit of control.
As the gate crew called the first group to board, Avery slipped the magazines in her tote and the business card fluttered to the ground. Her mother picked it up to hand it to her. “Leftover from some other trip?”
Avery shook her head and pointed with her chin at Chuck, who was waiting in the line with the priority passengers. He was scrolling through something on his phone. “No, that guy introduced himself and gave it to me. I didn’t want to give it back or...” Avery blinked. She still wasn’t sure what had happened in that weird conversation.
When the next boarding group was announced, Avery stood and grabbed her mother’s shopping bags. Her mother was shaking her head sadly. “What?”
“He was hitting on you. That was an invitation to call him when you’re in town or something.” Her mother dropped her purse on one shoulder and took her armful of bags from Avery.
The wave of people heading for the line flowed around Avery while she processed what her mother had said. “Hitting on me? No way.” She wasn’t dead but she might be half a step away. It had been months since she’d applied mascara. “What man in his right mind would be hitting on me?”
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