by Neesa Hart
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Excerpt
Dear Reader
Title Page
Dedication
Books by Neesa Hart
About the Author
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
Epilogue
Copyright
“I’ve decided we should get married,” Zack blurted, before he could stop himself.
August’s body stilled like the air before a storm. “I beg your pardon.”
He drew a deep breath. “Last night, while you were sleeping, I decided that the best thing for the boys would be if you and I got married.”
“Married?” Her expression didn’t flicker. “For the boys? Just like that?”
In the deep recesses of his mind, he admitted to a yawning fear that she would slip away from him. She was too independent, too sure. In the dark night he’d realized that if he didn’t move quickly to bind her to him, she could easily slip away. But he couldn’t make himself tell her the truth.
“Spectacular. In Seven Reasons Why, Neesa Hart tugged at my heart strings while tickling my funny bone. Not to be missed, Seven Reasons Why is sure to be a classic. Watch Neesa Hart shake it up and make us beg for more.”
—Bestselling author Leanne Banks
Dear Reader,
What better way to enjoy the last lingering days of summer than to revel in romance? And Special Edition’s lineup for August will surely turn your thoughts to love!
This month’s THAT’S MY BABY! title will tug your heartstrings. Brought to you by Ginna Gray, Alissa’s Miracle is about a woman who marries the man of her dreams—even though he doesn’t want children. But when she unexpectedly becomes pregnant, their love is put to the ultimate test.
Sometimes love comes when we least expect it—and that’s what’s in store for the heroines of the next three books. Mother Nature’s Hidden Agenda by award-winning author Kate Freiman is about a self-assured woman who thinks she has everything…until a sexy horse breeder and his precocious daughter enter the picture! Another heroine rediscovers love the second time around in Gail Link’s Lone Star Lover. And don’t miss Seven Reasons Why, Neesa Hart’s modern-day fairy tale about a brood of rascals who help their foster mom find happily-ever-after in the arms of a mysterious stranger!
Reader favorite Susan Mallery launches TRIPLE TROUBLE, her miniseries about identical triplets destined for love. In The Girl of His Dreams, the heroine will go to unbelievable lengths to avoid her feelings for her very best friend. The second and third titles of the series will be coming your way in September and October.
Finally, we’re thrilled to bring you book two in our FROM BUD TO BLOSSOM theme series. Gina Wilkins returns with It Could Happen To You, a captivating tale about an overly cautious heroine who learns to take the greatest risk of all— love.
I hope you enjoy each and every story to come!
Sincerely,
Tara Gavin,
Senior Editor
Please address questional and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O.Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
Seven Reasons Why
Neesa Hart
Special thanks to Helen Tornadeo, who fights the good fight every day on behalf of Virginia’s children; to the folks at S.A.V.E., who are doing all they can to make the world a safer place for the little guys; to Leanne Banks, one of the most gifted writers I know—who kept saying, “It’s style, Neesa, it’s style,” until I believed it; and to everyone who ever experienced the joy of seeing the world through the eyes of a child.
Books by Neesa Hart
Silhouette Special Edition
Almost to the Altar #1080
Seven Reasons Why #1122
NEESA HART
who writes contemporary romance under her own name, and historical romance as Mandalyn Kaye, lives outside Washington, D.C., where, she says, “Truth really is stranger than fiction.”
An avid romance fan for years, she got hooked while majoring in international affairs and geography in college. “Romances,” she said, “were always more fun, more informative and more relaxing than anything I was supposed to be reading for class.” After a brief political career, including a Senate-confirmed appointment to the President’s Council on Women’s Educational Programs, Neesa abandoned the hectic world of politics to pursue her dream as a full-time author. “Nothing,” she says, “could be better than telling stories for a living.”
Her interests, other than writing and reading, include volunteering at her church, collecting Barbie dolls and playing the banjo. One day she hopes to learn to pick “Oh! Susannah.”
Neesa loves to hear from her readers. You can write to her at: 101 East Holly Avenue, Street 3, Sterling, VA 20164.
Chapter One
He’d found the address for chaos.
As he watched the unfolding drama across the fence in his sexy new neighbor’s backyard, Zack Adriano was certain he’d found the center of chaos in the universe. And it resided” in Keegan’s Bend, Virginia.
At the moment, it took the form of seven boys—he mentally set their ages between six and ten—chasing a terrified goat. August Trent, the foster mother to at least half the brood, issued orders. Despite the way denim overalls hugged her generous figure and a crop of auburn curls framed her flushed face, August reminded Zack of George Custer at the Battle of the Little Bighorn. Hers might be a picture of pure femininity rather than military prowess, but beneath the guise lay a will of iron determined not to surrender.
As the small town’s full-time veterinarian and part-time mayor, August had a reputation for efficiently handling crises. Zack had casually observed her for the past two weeks across the fence that separated their yards. She’d managed every challenge, including the afternoon she came home to find one of her boys trying to walk the clothesline as a makeshift tightrope, with a calm dignity he couldn’t help admiring. He knew few women, or men, for that matter, who could juggle even half the tasks August Trent kept up in the air without falling to pieces.
Still, given the little army she had to work with this afternoon, Zack’s money was on the goat.
“May Belle,” one of the boys yelled, “stand still!” The pended kitchen strainer on the boy’s head considerably diminished the authority of the order. Two enormous dogs penned on the far side of the yard had added their howling to the din. With a quick glance in the direction of the pen, Zack estimated that August had another two minutes before the dogs worked themselves loose. May Belle’s odds were looking better all the time.
Surrounded by the crowd of boys, the goat lowered her head to charge. One of the little pack of hellions, this one clad in a fuchsia cape and bicycle helmet; dropped a rope around her neck. May Belle, more terrified than sensible, didn’t heed the slight pressure at her throat. She charged the house, instead, jerking the boy off his feet.
“Whoa!” He landed on his belly with a loud whump. A cloud of reddish dust quickly engulfed him. May Belle raced across the lawn, pulling the kid in her wake. The other boys parted before her like cornstalks in a stiff breeze.
“Chip!” August yelled. “Let go of the rope!”
But Chip either didn’t hear or didn’t listen. Poor May Belle dragged him halfway to the house before Chip dug his
feet into the ground and attempted to jerk the goat to a halt. He might have been successful, had the two dogs not chosen that moment to bolt from their pen and tackle Chip in a flying leap of wagging tales and panting tongues.
The rope slipped from his fingers. May Belle didn’t waste time. In seconds, she was galloping toward the small gate. The other boys ran after her, while Chip wrestled with the dogs.
As August rushed toward Chip, the boys managed to corner the goat in the far end of the fenced yard. May Belle was having none of it. Two of the boys grabbed the rope just as she turned and rushed the opposite direction. They managed to stay on their feet, but May Belle strained so hard against the rope, they had to lean back like waterskiers on a towline.
August, evidently satisfied that Chip’s wounds consisted of little more than a few scrapes and a grass stain the width of an ironing board across his belly, turned her attention back to May Belle’s ill-fated capture. The dogs continued to bark. The boys continued to yell. May Belle eyed August with a look of such distrust that Zack sensed impending doom.
Doom came in the form of a late-model sedan the size of a small cruise ship, turning into the driveway of August’s enormous Victorian home.
Zack recognized the car. It belonged to Odelia Keegan, the town’s matriarch and, if gossip was to be believed, August Trent’s nemesis.
Chip saw the sedan first. He tugged hard on the leg of August’s overalls, then pointed to the driveway. Seven heads swiveled to watch Odelia Keegan emerge from the car—seven heads and a goat. Despite the woman’s diminutive height, her pale pink suit and white hair, Odelia had an aura about her that Zack figured could stop a tornado in its tracks. Power, money and, unless he missed his guess, connivery had allowed her to run Keegan’s Bend for two decades.
August Trent had become the talk of the town the day she defeated Hiram Keegan, Odelia's nephew, in the mayoral race. In the two weeks Zack had been in town, he’d heard at least five different stories of clashes between the two women. Judging from the fury emanating from Odelia’s petite body, today he was going to get to witness one.
“August!” she called, her voice rivaling the rusty squeak of a weather vane. “August Trent!”
August’s lips pressed into a thin line as she watched Odelia approach the backyard. Chip cowered behind her legs, and Zack watched as the tallest of the seven boys studied Odelia with a look of calculated dislike.
He recognized that look.
He’d used a similar expression in the not-too-distant past, when one of his clients pushed him too hard. In recent months, Zack had found his temper growing shorter as his hours grew longer. The thrill he’d once found in his career as a trial attorney no longer held the appeal it once had. Perhaps, he decided, taking a long sip of his iced tea, that was what he liked most about August Trent. Underneath the exterior package, a package he found entirely too pleasant for his peace of mind, lay a woman who knew who she was and what she wanted.
Reluctantly Zack shifted his gaze back to the tall boy with the hard glare. Clad in black jeans and a T-shirt with Born To Be Wild emblazoned across the front, he was the only one who still had a firm grip on May Belle. The smaller boy had allowed the rope to go slack when Odelia called August’s name. In a move casual enough to win Zack’s respect, the kid gave the rope a sharp enough tug to ensure that May Belle would still want to bolt, then let the tether slide from his fingers. Sensing her freedom, May Belle jerked free of the other boy’s loose grip and charged directly toward Odelia Keegan. The two dogs followed.
Zack watched as August’s eyes rolled heavenward, Ode-lia let out a shriek of outrage as she scrambled for her car door and the boys scattered in seven different directions. With obvious reluctance, August squared her shoulders, called the dogs and started after May Belle.
Zack was so intent on watching the enticing sway of August’s hips as she stalked across the lawn, he didn’t notice that the boys now stood on his side of the fence until he felt the tug at the leg of his jeans.
He glanced in surprise at the seven faces watching him with a mixture of suspicion and hope. “How’d you get over here?” he asked. He had assumed that the fence fully separated the two yards, and despite the distraction of watching August, he was fairly certain he would have noticed if a group of seven junior commandos had scaled it.
The kid with the strainer on his head pointed to a place ten yards down the fence. “You gotta board out down there. Can’t see it ’cause of the ivy.”
Zack glanced at the fence, then back at the boys. “So you decided to hide out in my yard until Mrs. Keegan leaves?” he guessed.
One boy, with wire-framed glasses and the whitest hair Zack had ever seen, stepped forward from the small group. In the time he’d had to observe the goings on at the Trent house, Zack had already identified this one as the natural leader of the pack. If memory served, he’d heard the other boys call him Jeff.
“You really a lawyer?” Jeff asked.
Zack’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. “Maybe.”
“August says you’re a lawyer.”
“You any good?” asked the kid with the strainer on his head.
“I suppose.”
“I heard you were some hotshot lawyer from New York,” Jeff persisted. He shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his dirty index finger. “Are you?”
“I work for a law firm in New York, yes.”
“But are you from New York?”
“I’m from Iowa.”
He looked disappointed. “Dang. I thought you were from New York.”
The tallest boy of the group, the one who’d turned the goat loose on Odelia Keegan, fixed Zack with a hard stare. “I told you this wouldn’t work, Jeff.”
“It would work if he was from New York.”
“He said he’s a lawyer in New York” piped in another kid. His high, squeaky voice reminded Zack of a cartoon character. “What’s the difference?”
“Because,” Jeff said. “We need a good lawyer. Not one from Iowa.”
As the blistering heat of the Virginia sun bore down on Zack’s head, a trickle of sweat formed at his nape and ran down his spine. One of the boys, a handsome black kid Zack remembered hearing August call Bo, dropped onto a lounge chair. Zack had noticed earlier that Bo, the smallest of the seven, had seemed the most uncomfortable during the goat-herding escapade. Neatly dressed in khaki shorts and a collared shirt that, by some miracle, he’d managed to keep tucked in, he looked like the kind of kid who’d been told one too many times that children should be seen and not heard. Zack doubted the boy had a lick of temper in him, and it made him wonder how the poor fellow survived in a house run by hotheaded August Trent.
He seemed unaware of Zack’s scrutiny. “What are we going to do now, Jeff?” he wailed. “You said we were going to get a lawyer.”
“We are,” Jeff asserted. “Maybe we’ll hire him anyway. I guess an Iowa lawyer from New York is almost as good as a New York lawyer.”
“What makes you think you need a lawyer?” Zack asked, despite his better judgment. He didn’t have any business getting mixed up with August Trent’s kids. Jansen Riley had lent him his large family home in Keegan’s Bend on the condition that Zack would find out why Odelia Keegan wanted August Trent run out of town. Getting involved with the woman, or her kids, when he was supposed to be observing her comings and goings was definitely not in his plan. Jansen had told him that his interest in Keegan’s Bend was purely nostalgic. He’d grown up there, and knew all too well that the Keegans didn’t like to be thwarted. Zack, however, hadn’t made a living reading people’s faces without learning a thing or two. He had a lot of respect for Jansen Riley—in many ways, the man had been like a father to him. And Zack would have bet real money that Jansen hadn’t revealed the whole story behind his motivations. Zack had come to Keegan’s Bend wary, and more than a little careful.
With the same methodical precision that had distinguished him as a lawyer, Zack had determined to keep his distance fr
om August until he had more of a feel for the situation. Since his arrival in the small town, all he’d gleaned with his casual questions and feigned curiosity were a few rumors, some choice gossip and a delightful view of August’s house. He hadn’t planned on her seven little ruffians inviting him to interrogate them. Kids, in his experience, were far more honest than adults. With a little luck, and a few skillful questions, he might start to get some answers.
From the corner of his eye, he could see August and Odelia still embroiled in a heated conversation. If he’d learned one thing about her boys, he knew they were unpredictable, precocious, and bent on trouble. No matter how much August intrigued him, he ought to know better than to get involved with the little mob.
In answer to Zack’s question, Jeff pulled up his baggy jeans, then took a step forward. “We got a good case. We just need a lawyer to help us win it.”
Zack dragged his gaze from August. “Is that so?” he asked him.
“Yeah.” Jeff gave Zack’s porch a pointed look. “Don’t you want to ask us some questions or something? That’s what they do on TV.”
“Why would I want to ask you questions?”
“About our case,” he said, his voice taking on an impatient edge. “Don’t you want to know about our case?”
Zack threw a final glance at August Trent. Her discussion with Odelia had evidently escalated into a full-fledged argument. With hands waving and face flushed, August was giving her hell. If he entertained the boys for another ten minutes or so, he could at least ferret out just what had Odelia in such an uproar. Now seemed as good a time as any to start earning his pay. His decision made, Zack looked Jeff in the eye. “Maybe.”