Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
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
Epilogue
Special Note to My Readers
Teaser chapter
Praise for the Romances of Catherine Anderson
“Emotional and heartfelt, her stories make you believe in the power of love.”—Debbie Macomber
“Anderson comes up with another winner by deftly blending sweetness and sensuality in a poignantly written story.”
—Booklist
“Catherine Anderson has a gift for imbuing her characters with dignity, compassion, courage, and strength that inspire readers.” —Romantic Times
“A major voice in the romance genre.” —Publishers Weekly
Early Dawn
“Never stinting on the harsh reality inherent in the setting, the author tempers the roughness with a powerful love story and remarkable characters. She draws out every emotion and leaves readers with a true understanding of life and love.” —Romantic Times (4½ Stars)
Comanche Heart
“Riveting, passionate, and powerful ... everything a romance should be.”—Amanda Quick
“Highly sensual and very compelling ... a truly spectacular read.”—Linda Lael Miller
“I thoroughly enjoyed [Comanche Heart].”
—Karen Robards
Star Bright
“When opening an Anderson novel, readers encounter great characterization as well as complex emotional issues. Poignant and funny, yet laced with danger, this is a truly enchanting read.”—Romantic Times (4 Stars)
Morning Light
“This is a story not to be missed. Morning Light delivers on all levels, and is a fantastic read that will touch readers at the very core of their being.”
—The Romance Readers Connection
Sun Kissed
“This smart, wholesome tale should appeal to any fan of traditional romance.” —Publishers Weekly
“Another heartwarming chapter in the Coulter family saga is on tap in the always wonderful Anderson’s newest release. ... Anderson is at her best when it comes to telling stories that are deeply emotional and heartfelt.”
—Romantic Times (4½ Stars)
Summer Breeze
“Anderson understands the inner workings of the human soul so deeply that she’s able to put intense emotion within a stunning romance in such a way that you’ll believe in miracles. Add to this her beautiful writing style, memorable characters, and a timeless story, and you have an unmatched reading adventure.”—Romantic Times (4½ Stars)
“The kind of book that will snare you so completely, you’ll not want to put it down. It engages the intellect and emotions ; it’ll make you care. It will also make you smile ... a lot. And that’s a guarantee.”—Romance Reviews Today
My Sunshine
“With the author’s signature nurturing warmth and emotional depth, this beautifully written romance is a richly rewarding experience for any reader.”—Booklist
Blue Skies
“Readers may need to wipe away tears ... since few will be able to resist the power of this beautifully emotional, wonderfully romantic love story.”—Booklist
“A keeper and a very strong contender for best contemporary romance of the year.”—Romance Reviews Today
Bright Eyes
“Offbeat family members and genuine familial love give a special lift to this marvelous story. An Anderson book is a guaranteed great read!”
—Romantic Times (4½ Stars, Top Pick)
Only by Your Touch
“Ben Longtree is a marvelous hero whose extraordinary gifts bring a unique and special magic to this warmhearted novel. No one can tug your heartstrings better than Catherine Anderson.”—Romantic Times (4½ Stars, Top Pick)
Always in My Heart
“Emotionally involving, family centered, and relationship oriented, this story is a rewarding read.”—Library Journal
“[A] superbly written contemporary romance, which features just the kind of emotionally nourishing, comfortably compassionate type of love story this author is known for creating.”—Booklist
Sweet Nothings
“Pure reading magic.”—Booklist
Phantom Waltz
“Anderson departs from traditional romantic stereotypes in this poignant contemporary tale of a love that transcends all boundaries ... romantic through and through.”
—Publishers Weekly
OTHER NOVELS BY CATHERINE ANDERSON
The Comanche Series
Comanche Moon
Comanche Heart
Indigo Blue
Harrigan Family Novels
Morning Light
Star Bright
Here to Stay
Coulter Family Contemporary Novels
Phantom Waltz
Sweet Nothings
Blue Skies
Bright Eyes
My Sunshine
Sun Kissed
Coulter Family Historical Novels
Summer Breeze
Early Dawn
Other Signet Books
Always in My Heart
Only by Your Touch
Sun Kissed Bonus Book
SIGNET
Published by New American Library, a division of
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,
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eISBN : 978-1-101-47693-2
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First published by Signet, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, February 2011
Copyright © Adeline Catherine Anderson, 2011
All rights reserved
REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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http://us.penguingroup.com
To my husband, Sid, who has always been my rock; and to our wonderful sons, Sidney and John; my daughter-in-law, Mary; and my three grandsons, Joshua, Liam, and Jonas, who always make me smile. I also want to thank Kate Allen, who works so hard to keep my writing day uninterrupted so I can be productive, and my assistant, Julia Stapp, for her unflagging enthusiasm and encouragement.
Acknowledgments
Over the course of this book, I had to pick the brains of different individuals to get my facts straight. I greatly appreciated the knowledge that my son John, my husband, Sid, and Ashley Buck shared with me about horses. Special thanks are also due to Mona Ramoni and her beautiful mini guide horse, Cali, for all the inside information about these fabulous little equines who make such a difference in the lives of the sight impaired; Ann Edie, who helped me temper my passion for the guide horse movement with facts so I could present both sides of the issues; Dolores Arste, who shared information about the guide horse training process; and Renata Di Pietro, a trained guide dog handler who sent me so much information, about both guide dogs and horses. I also want to thank John Newman, who guided me through the legal issues involved when individuals are charged with a crime in Oregon, and also explained what kind of evidence is needed at an arraignment hearing to document the abuse or endangerment of animals.
Prologue
Music blared from the barroom stage where the Bushwhackers, Crystal Falls’ top country-western band, pounded out rhythms that kept the dance floor packed. The lead singer, a tall dude in Wranglers, a spangled Western shirt, shiny cowboy boots that had never met up with cow shit, and a Stetson studded around the crown with silver conchos, offered a fervent rendition of John Michael Montgomery’s dated hit “Be My Baby Tonight.” The fast beat throbbed in the air, inspiring couples to pick up the pace as they executed the intricate heel-and-toe steps of a country line dance on the well-waxed plank floor surrounded by small tables.
Zach Harrigan lounged in a far corner of the room, his chair tipped precariously onto its rear legs and his arms folded loosely over his chest as he studied babes with the ease of long practice. Bronco Bart’s was his favorite hunting ground, a popular watering hole that normally attracted a lot of gorgeous women. Problem was, tonight they all looked the same—tall, slender bleached blondes in skintight jeans and figure-hugging knit tops that left little to the imagination. As he took measure of their cookie-cutter bodies, Zack wondered whether a terrorist had spiked the Oregon water reservoirs with a virus that made women want big boobs. A large percentage of the females within his line of sight looked as if they’d gone under the knife. Hell, a lot of the women he’d slept with over the past six months—and that was no small number—had paid thousands for breast augmentation. Some had even suffered nerve damage during surgery. What man in his right mind wanted to suckle a numb tit? In Zach’s opinion, a guy could have almost as much fun nibbling on an overfilled water balloon.
Feeling oddly irritated, Zach reached for his bottle of beer. Empty. Zach glared at it with dark suspicion. Maybe he was drinking too much, but what the hell. He lifted an arm and signaled the new waitress. She wasn’t hard on the eyes, and getting another beer would give him an excuse for a closer inspection.
She nodded, dealt with another customer, and approached Zach’s tiny table. “What’s for you, mister?”
Noting automatically that while she had magnificent breasts, she was also wearing a wedding ring, Zach placed his order. She gave him a knowing smile, stepped away from the table, and soon reappeared with a fresh bottle.
Zach snatched it up and took a long pull. Condensation beaded on the glass, wet and icy under his fingers. The ale had a brassy edge that puckered his tongue and left his throat feeling as if he’d just swallowed a piece of chalk. What the hell’s wrong with me? Zach usually loved beer and women. Okay, he always loved beer and women. That was why he was a steady at Bart’s, where the taps ran cold and the babes ran hot. He’d come here to pick out a squeeze, cozy her up in a Texas two-step, and sweet-talk her into bed, preferably at her place. Then he’d scat before two so he could catch a little shut-eye before starting a long day of hard work at his ranch before dawn. As a bachelor, that was his modus operandi. It had worked nicely for years. So why did he suddenly feel bored, disgruntled, and at loose ends?
Maybe, he decided with a vague sense of panic, he was getting too old for this shit. The thought no sooner took root in his mind than he shoved it away. Old, my ass. He was only thirty-one. He could still work circles around his hired hands, and the women still went for him. Just why they did, Zach wasn’t sure, but they did. Always had. He’d studied himself in a mirror many times, trying to figure it out, and all he saw was a carbon copy of his dad, Frank—trim, well-muscled build, skin that had turned permanently dark from too much sun, black hair, brown eyes, and the Harrigan nose, which was more along the order of a beak. You sure couldn’t call either of us handsome, he decided. Nevertheless, females seemed to be attracted to the package. So he couldn’t be over the hill yet. He was just having an off night.
Just then the dance ended, and a blond sexpot left the floor to undulate between the tables toward him. Zach narrowed his eyes on her face. Wake-up call. He knew her. He’d slept with her last Saturday night, an experience he didn’t care to repeat. A year ago, some bozo had gotten too rough with her during sex and ruptured her right breast implant, leaving her with serious hang-ups about any kind of pressure on her chest. She didn’t want to be hugged. She couldn’t lie on her stomach. When Zach bumped accidentally against her breast, she went ballistic. He didn’t mind being gentle with his partners. It was the way his dad had raised him to be. But to his way of thinking, sex should be spontaneous and fun, not a lesson on the proper handling of saline sacs.
“Hey,” he said, knuckling up the brim of his hat, a cowboy’s casual gesture of respect when a lady approached. “How’s it going?”
Without an invitation, she perched her world-class ass on a chair across from him, flashed a smile of pearly white overlays, and batted her mascara-coated eyelashes. For the life of him, Zach couldn’t recall her name. Mary, Sherry, Terry? Something like that. Shit. She’d feel insulted, and rightly so, if he couldn’t think of her moniker.
“I’m feeling sad,” she said. “The best dancer in the place is sitting on his duff.” The eyelashes did another spider dance. Her baby blues locked on his. “I thought you might at least come over to my table and say hi.”
Zach forced his lips into a curve that he hoped would pass for a grin. Terry. That was her name. “It’s crowded in here. A pretty little gal like you gets lost in the maze of bodies. I didn’t see you when I came in.”
She pursed her lips in a well-practiced pout. “So I don’t stand out in a crowd? Thanks. I had no problem spotting you.”
Zach took another swallow of beer, making a mental note to switch brands the next time the barmaid made table rounds. Maybe it was just a bad batch, but the stuff tasted nasty. As he set the bottle back down, he studied Terry’s face, then dropped his gaze to her deep cleavage, which was seductively exposed by the low scoop of her cherry pink top. Not interested. She could hassle some other poor bastard tonight. He wanted no part of it.
“So ... are
you with someone?” she asked. “I’m pretty much free for the evening.”
Probably because every man in the bar had slept with her and knew she was about as much fun as a bad case of the clap. “I’m on hiatus tonight. Hurt my back yesterday picking up a foal.”
“Oh, no.” She flashed her dental work again. “I’m a fabulous masseuse. Come to my place, and I’ll make it all better.”
Zach shifted on the chair and pretended to wince. “Give me a week, and maybe I’ll take you up on that. Not tonight, though. A pretty little thing like you deserves a cowboy who can deliver, and I’m out of commission.”
Her eyes darkened, and Zach knew she saw right through him. He hated hurting someone’s feelings. He and Terry hadn’t really connected on a personal level last weekend. It had been only about sex, two consenting adults scratching each other’s itch, only he had come away from the experience feeling unsatisfied. Not her fault. Some guys probably didn’t mind the “don’t touch” routine, but for Zach, it had been a turnoff.
He was about to flip on the cowboy charm and convince her that he truly was interested in seconds some other night. He always began that routine by asking for a woman’s phone number. But just as he opened his mouth to speak, a ruckus erupted on the opposite side of the room. Ever on guard, Zach zeroed in on the commotion. A thin brunette was arguing heatedly with some rhinestone cowboy, waving her hands and yelling. Behind her stood a lanky redheaded man who wore dark glasses and carried a white cane. Blind? Zach had never seen a sight-impaired guy in a place like Bart’s, but he guessed there was a first time for everything. And, hello, even the disabled had a right to patronize a bar and listen to a local-yokel band.
The woman turned to take the redheaded man’s arm. As she tried to guide him forward, the cowboy dude grinned broadly, stuck out his boot, and deliberately tripped the blind fellow, sending him into a staggering sprawl that ended with what had to be a painful face-plant on the planks. Zach rocked forward on his chair, bringing the front legs down so fast they emitted a loud popping sound.