The Monday Blog

Read the first five chapters of THE GIRL NEXT DOOR!

This Preview Friday, read the entire first FIVE chapters of upcoming release THE GIRL NEXT DOOR!  This newest O’Connells novel will be available next week, but you can pre-order your copy today.  Also be sure to grab some FREE Audible codes below and check out the latest Authors XP book giveaway, too.  Happy weekend!  Best & be well– Lorhainne

The Girl Next Door

The Girl Next Door

Romance and suspense collide in this haunting romantic thriller. When special forces operator Luke O’Connell meets a woman he never expected to see again, he uncovers the dangerous secret she is hiding and realizes the lengths someone will go to stop him from uncovering the truth.

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Chapter 1

Small and intimate was how Luke would have described Tessa and Owen’s backyard, with its flowers, garden, and privacy. The wedding had been for just close friends and family. He had never seen his brother so happy, and as he leaned on the bar and watched a family he was finding it harder and harder to feel part of, he had to remind himself that his being alone wasn’t his brother’s fault.

“You’re pretty quiet over here, drinking your beer, saying nothing, watching everyone.”

He turned to take in Jack, his brother-in-law, who was now the governor of Montana. Four state troopers were present, one at the back gate, another in the yard over by Karen, and two in the small house. He knew that had to be giving the neighbors a lot to talk about. Jack lifted his hand as one of the troopers walked out of the house and over to him, then whispered something.

Jack wore his black suit as if it had been made for him. If Luke had been a girl, he’d have given his brother-in-law a second and third look, too. Jack wasn’t as tall as he was, but he thought he might be prettier.

“Just enjoying a beer, Jack,” he said.

Jack pulled his gaze, wincing into the sun. By the tug at the corners of his lips, Luke wasn’t sure whether he was trying not to laugh or had something else on his mind, likely some humor at his expense. The trooper had walked off and now stood at the back door.

“I see you came alone, no girl on your arm,” Jack said. He held a tumbler of bourbon, he thought. His one drink of the night, evidently, or maybe he’d live it up and have two.

Luke didn’t even grunt, and he didn’t pull his gaze. “Nope.” He lifted his beer and downed the rest before putting the bottle on the bar and reaching behind it to pull another from a bucket of ice. He twisted off the cap and heard the sigh from Jack.

“You know everyone feels bad over what happened with Rosemary…”

There it was, that feeling, that sense of discomfort that settled right in the pit of his stomach. No one would let it go, yet he had. He allowed his gaze to settle on Jack with the practiced warning he gave to anyone who risked ending up on his wrong side.

“Is that why you came over, to counsel me about coming solo today?” Luke said. “All my siblings are now married, so should I have dragged some woman along with me? At least then you’d all be happy. Sure, I could have brought a plus one, but there would’ve been questions, a lot of questions, from my nosy family, and the poor girl doing me a favor would have been running before Owen and Tessa even said ‘I do.’ I’m not seeing anyone, am not involved, and don’t plan on being so anytime soon. Rosemary couldn’t have worked, anyway, so you just tell everyone to back off and let themselves off the hook. That was a momentary lapse, thinking someone like me could have something that resembled normal. Being a team guy, I know I can’t have a girl waiting at home.”

He let the words hang. Did the amusement on Jack’s face mean he wasn’t buying any of what Luke was saying or something else? That had been the most words Luke had strung together in a conversation with anyone in a long time.

“You know, you can keep telling everyone you’re not meant for a relationship, but I know better than anyone that’s not true,” Jack said. “You should know that your sisters are likely going to take matters into their own hands. Just a heads-up.”

He just stared at Jack, who was now leaning on the bar, staring into his tumbler. Something about the way he said it sounded like a warning. He knew something.

“And what matters would those be?”

From across the garden, his sister Suzanne was making a beeline over to them. Her long dirty-blond hair was wavy and styled, and her swelling belly in her gold and white maternity dress meant she was closer to having the baby than not. Harold, her husband of forty-five days, was following her .

“Oh, they figure they need to help you along toward happiness,” Jack said. “You know your sisters.”

Suzanne slid up beside him, linked her arm in his, and looked at his beer fondly. “You know, being pregnant, I absolutely miss that ice-cold beer. The taste…”

Luke just lifted a brow and glanced over to Harold. The man had been summoned and was evidently following orders, having reluctantly walked over for a friendly chat. His little sister did have a habit of getting her way.

“Well, you can just live vicariously through me as I enjoy this,” Luke said. “So Jack was just giving me a heads-up that you and Karen are up to something, planning on sticking your noses into my life and doing something I’m not going to like. You know my life is my life. Don’t be thinking you can fix me or—”

“Jack, you weren’t supposed to say anything,” Suzanne said. “Anyway, she’s a nice girl. You’ll like her. And it was Marcus who brought it up, so you can’t give me and Karen all the credit. In fact, I think it was Jenny who mentioned it to Ryan first, or was it Tessa?”

His sister looked over to Harold. Now he knew why the man seemed so uncomfortable. He only lifted his gaze in a way that made Luke feel positive he didn’t want to answer. “No idea, Suzanne. But Luke is right. You can’t be trying to set your brother up. I told you before that this will backfire. Sorry, Luke. I told her. I’m just a bystander.” He was holding a beer, his suit jacket gone and his white dress shirt sleeves rolled up.

Luke took in the wedding ring on his sister’s finger, remembering the courthouse ceremony, five minutes to say “I do,” sign the certificate, and walk out of City Hall. It had been quick, efficient, and nothing like the super romantic backyard celebration of his big brother. He hadn’t expected this from Owen, but then, he really was head over heels for Tessa. Apparently, a guy would do anything for the girl he loved.

“I don’t need you to find me a girl, Suzanne.” Luke lifted his beer and took a swallow, then spotted Karen in a silky red dress that showed off all her curves. He didn’t know who she was talking to, but her laughter drifted his way. His mom and dad were across the yard, too, with Alison and Bennett. The rest of the family and a handful of friends had turned this small and intimate event into the kind of party that should have made him happy. And he was happy—for Owen.

Suzanne was still holding his arm. “No, I’m sure you don’t, but humor us, okay? Because sometimes we just know better. I think you’ll agree when you meet her, and you’ll actually thank us for sticking our noses into your life and wanting to fix you up.” She fisted her hand and punched his arm playfully in that way of hers, though she really could pack a punch if she wanted to.

Harold lifted his gaze as if he’d already heard this, whereas Jack, he thought, was doing his best not to laugh at his expense. Luke stared down at his sister again, thinking she had too much time on her hands.

“You think you know what I need in my life more than I do? If we’re sticking our noses into each other’s lives, when is it my turn? I mean, you’re due in a few weeks, and then what? Are you staying home to raise the baby? I guess that would be a win-win for Harold, wouldn’t it? Kind of every guy’s dream, having a barefoot housewife who’ll have dinner ready for him when he gets home, keep his house clean, fetch his slippers, and not talk back.”

Suzanne was staring daggers back at him. He knew full well which buttons to push and exactly what to say. Harold said nothing, though alarm flashed in his eyes, and he lifted his hands and stepped back as if wanting to take cover before the sparks flew.

Suzanne hissed, giving him a snarl that wiped her smile away. “You’re such an asshole sometimes,” she snapped.

“You know what?” Harold said. “I think I hear Marcus calling me.” Apparently, he had been smart enough not to wade into that dangerous territory with Suzanne, and he stepped back farther as if he couldn’t believe Luke had brought it up.

Jack still appeared amused and was now shaking his head.

“Don’t try spinning this back on me,” Suzanne said. “You think I’m not used to how you fight, low and dirty? You toss out fighting words that you know will get under my skin and have me wanting to scratch your eyes out, except you know I’m more likely to slug you… Are you trying to mess with my head? Seriously, Luke, I’m not biting, not today. Tomorrow is a different story, though. Now I’m even more determined to mess with your life.

“And just FYI, after the baby is born, Mom and Charlotte have both said they’re willing to step in and help out when I get back to work. And I will, because I’ve talked to Marcus several times about joining the department. He brushed me off the first three times, saying he can’t hire me because I’m family, and Harold and I are married, but I pointed out to him that Charlotte worked there even after he and she were married. There’s always the option of being a paramedic, or I could get back my job as a firefighter…”

Luke couldn’t believe she’d said that. “The fire department you were fired from is not going to take you back, Suzanne,” he said.

Even Jack, who was a master of not showing what he was thinking, seemed surprised. He was now leaning on the bar and hadn’t pulled his gaze from Suzanne. Luke could see his sister was still figuring things out. She’d really loved being a firefighter, but the politics had already decided she had to go.

“Look, I’ve heard over and over from Harold that there’s no chance they’ll take me back, but I’m persistent, and there is always a way. Yes, they scapegoated me, but I’m made of stronger stuff, persistence. I’ll work the next department over. I’ve already reached out to the chief, and I still know people there, so I’m not about to take no for an answer. You can stop pushing my buttons with this 1950s ‘back to the kitchen’ thing. You think I don’t know what you’re doing, Luke, trying to spin this back on me so I’m not fixing you up? Well, it won’t work, because she’s already here.”

He knew he was frowning, and he realized Jack wasn’t surprised. He seemed to already know what was up. A smile had inched its way back into Suzanne’s expression as if she was going to make this suddenly painful for him…

“She’s here—like, in this backyard, at this wedding?”

Suzanne was really smiling now. She only nodded. Another glance to Jack, and he could see he knew who the girl in question was.

Luke found himself scanning the people, his family, Owen and Tessa’s friends, then looked back to Suzanne. “And you…what, want to introduce me and expect some happily ever after? I’ll pass.”

She tapped his arm and then was somehow pulling him. Damn! For a pregnant woman, she was strong.

“Suzanne, what the hell…?” was all he said, letting his sister lead him across the yard. He spotted Marcus, the best man, dressed in a dark suit, his tie loosened, smiling as if he knew, too. So was Charlotte, wearing a frilly sleeveless blue dress.

“Oh, you just hush up and be nice,” Suzanne said.

Ahead of them, Ryan wore a navy suit, standing beside Jenny, with her long dark hair hanging in soft curls. He stepped back to reveal the woman they were talking with, who had short red hair.

“Misty, this is my brother Luke, the one I was telling you about,” Suzanne said as they approached.

She looked up, slender, short, wearing a soft green short-sleeved dress that hugged her curves. Luke felt that off feeling he’d had too many times before, taking in those full lips, her oval face, and those eyes, honey gold, a color he’d never forget. Her smile was there one minute, gone the next.

He just stared at her, remembering well the weekend they’d shared together. He felt someone slap his back, one of his brothers, and knew everyone was watching them.

“This is Misty Bates, Tessa and Owen’s neighbor and friend,” Jenny said.

Luke hadn’t looked away. Misty hesitated and then seemed to pull herself together, holding out her delicate small hand. There was that smile again, with those dimples he remembered fondly.

“Hi, Luke. I’ve heard a lot about you from your family. It’s nice to meet you.”

So she was playing the game, not wanting anyone to catch on that they had already met. He could call her out or play along. He touched her hand, holding it, and hesitated, feeling the warmth and the unease. Evidently, she wasn’t about to come clean.

“Since my family doesn’t know how to stay out of my business, how about we get a drink and exchange numbers?” he said.

He thought it was Marcus who made a rude noise. Luke somehow manoeuvred Misty back to the bar, where Jack was no longer standing, holding out his arm as he walked with her. She wore killer heels, which showed off legs he remembered well.

One, two, three… He had counted their footsteps in his head until they were far enough away from everyone. The tall, lanky bartender was opening a bottle of red wine and glanced at her, saying, “What can I get you?”

“I’ll have a glass of that red,” she said.

Luke waited for the bartender to pour it. “You know what I remember, Misty, about the last time I saw you?”

She stood so stiffly, lifting her chin as she flicked those eyes at him. He swore he could get lost in them. She said nothing for a moment as she took the glass from the bartender and sipped. “Okay, I’ll bite,” she replied. “What?”

Luke waited for the bartender to walk away, well aware that everyone in his family was watching them. “One of the best no-strings weekends of my life. But I never expected to see you again. Small world, Misty. Greece is a long way from Livingston.”

She only nodded. “It is, at that. So tell me, Luke, when did you join the military? Because I’m pretty sure that when we spent the weekend together, I knew you as a man named Henry who worked for a software company in California, not as Luke O’Connell.”

It had been during one of his missions on the other side of the world, when he played the role of someone else. He really hadn’t expected to see her again.

“Well, I guess you know I lied. Should I apologize?” He knew he sounded like an asshole.

She lifted a brow. “For lying about who you were or for the no-strings weekend? If I recall, we both agreed. Sure, I could be angry, but instead, let’s stand here for a few more minutes and pretend to talk while I drink my wine, and then I’ll make my way back over to your family and make my excuses, tell them I’m not interested, that you’re not my type or something like that.” She was so damn matter of fact.

And she was giving him an out. But there was just something about her, something that seemed different from the woman he had spent that weekend with in Plaka.

“Does that mean you’re not up for another no-strings weekend?” he said.

She could have slapped him. Instead, she pulled in a breath and seemed to consider something, lifting her glass to her lips.

Suzanne strode over and slid her hand over Misty’s arm before she could answer him. “So are you two hitting it off?” she said.

Of course his sister couldn’t leave it alone. The smile was pasted back on Misty’s face now, the one that reminded him of a nice girl, but he realized that easy smile was only a front.

She let out a soft laugh. “Luke is great. It was really nice to put a face to the name after all I’ve heard. But I’m going to make my way back…” She gestured behind her to where Ryan, Jenny, Charlotte, and Marcus were, then lowered her wine and started walking away.

That left him and Suzanne, who was now staring daggers his way again. “What did you say to her, Luke?”

He just took in his sister, then lifted his beer, watching as Misty talked with Jenny and Charlotte. When she looked his way, he realized maybe there was a reason she didn’t want anyone to know they’d already met. There was just something about her…

“We just chatted for a minute, Suzanne, until you interrupted,” he said.

Suzanne frowned and tapped his arm. “Do you need me to drag you back over there?”

He only shook his head and looked back over to Misty, who was laughing at something Charlotte had said. He knew when a woman was avoiding looking his way. What was it about her? It seemed secrets and lies were just what he attracted.

“Nope,” he said. “I already told you I’m not looking for a relationship, Suzanne, and she’s not really my type.” He hoped she would drop it.

“So what exactly is your type, Luke?”

There it was, the million-dollar question. All he did was lift his beer and take another swallow as he realized Misty Bates was looking right at him.

Chapter 2

He knew nervousness.

He knew avoidance.

And he knew Misty Bates had displayed both since the moment Suzanne walked him over, the moment they’d met again.

He watched the redhead from a distance as the night settled and the party wound down. The bride and groom had now left for their honeymoon in Grand Turk, a gift from all of them. It was a place he’d been too many times to count, but his brother and his new wife would see the areas tourists did, not the real island, which Luke and his team understood.

He carried the last of the dishes into the house and took in his mom, Alison, and Cassie as they put some order back into the kitchen. Ryan, Harold, and Marcus were still outside, drinking a beer and talking, whereas Charlotte was carrying a tired Cameron and leading Eva to the back door.

“Getting ready to leave?” Luke said. “The kids look like they’re done.”

She shot him a look. “Oh, this one is past tired.” She patted Cameron’s back as he rubbed his eyes. “Just going to grab Marcus. Time to takes these ones home and put them to bed. Oh, and it’s not too late, you know. Misty is getting ready to leave. Jenny is there with her. You should walk her home. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

Cassie and Alison glanced his way, smiling, teasing, and he knew they wanted to add something. Charlotte glanced past him to the door, where Misty and Jenny were, and her brow crooked. His sisters and sisters-in-law had become quite the pack, trying to arrange his love life. She laughed softly before walking out back, where he spotted his dad and Brady heading around the side of the house. He wondered what that was about, but then, he hadn’t really had a chance to catch up with anyone before the wedding.

He took one step and then another to the front door, which was now open. Jenny was hugging Misty goodbye. Too small a world, considering the woman he had never planned to see again after their weekend sex marathon was actually a hometown friend of his family. What were the odds? He was still trying to wrap his head around it, especially the fact that she hadn’t called him out for using a fake name and alias.

“I heard you were leaving,” he said as he came to a stop beside Jenny, who rested her arm on his suit jacket. “Why don’t I walk you home?”

Misty hesitated, shaking out the black sweater she had been holding over her arm and pulling it on.

“That’s a great idea, considering it’s now dark out,” Jenny said, jumping in before Misty could say no or Luke could add anything else to make this more awkward. “It will give you two a chance to talk.”

Misty only smiled and said nothing as he followed her out the door. She started down the gravel walkway, the only landscaping Owen and Tessa had done out front. He held his arm out to her, taking in those killer heels. He wondered at times how women could walk in them. She hesitated only a second before taking his arm.

“Well, you didn’t have to walk me. I live right here. In case I need to remind you, it was no strings, never seeing each other again. Please feel free to ignore me.”

“And what, pretend I’m not interested?” he said. “You forget I’ve seen you naked. Seems rather awkward, considering you’re now friends with the women in my family. In case you haven’t noticed, they’ve gone to quite the lengths to push us together, and they’re going to keep sticking their noses in because they have it in their heads that we’re perfect for each other. What would they think if they only knew we’d already met? How many years has it been?”

He could feel her fist her hand on his arm as they walked down the sidewalk, past the overgrown hedges. He took in her single-story bungalow, which was almost identical to Tessa and Owen’s.

“You’re not saying anything. Should I be insulted?” he said. He didn’t know what to make of her, but he could feel when someone was uncomfortable.

“Oh, I remember how long ago it was. A little over three years, I think. But I’ll talk to Tessa when she’s back, and Jenny as well, and tell them we’re just too different or something along those lines, and it could never work. They’ll drop it, so don’t worry. And they’ll never push again. But then, I don’t think you want them knowing I was just one of your many conquests. A man like you, Luke, with a false name, a false identity… Pretty sure you play with a lot of women, don’t you? No strings.”

He could feel her shrug. He didn’t think he should answer her. He was by no means a saint, and there were only a few women he didn’t think he’d ever forget. Why was he seeing shadows around everyone now? It was likely because of what he did.

“So when we met at that outdoor café in Plaka, were you living here? Were you already friends with—”

“Tessa?” She jumped in before he could finish. “I’m friends with Tessa because she bought the house shortly after I bought this one. We met over the fence, chatted, talked, and we’ve been good friends ever since. Tessa introduced me to the rest of your family—and I have to say, you have a nice family, Luke. Now, as I said, I’ll make excuses, and you won’t have to worry about them pushing us together again. But I’m not interested in hooking up with a player. And you are a player, Luke.” She gestured toward him as they strode across the grass to the front door, where the outside light was off.

“You should leave a light on so you don’t come back in the dark,” he said.

She pulled her hand free from his arm as she stepped up on the stoop, pulled open the screen door, and grabbed her keys from her small purse. He took in the two deadbolts and the heavy front door, not something the average person would notice. She had two different keys, too. She shoved one in and unlocked the heavy door, then opened it just a bit and turned to him, the darkness lingering.

“Well, thank you, Luke, for walking me home.”

That was it. That was all she said. She stood there in the darkness, not even reaching inside to turn on the light, and that had him thinking she was hiding something.

“You never answered me before about another no-strings weekend,” he said. “You should invite me in.”

She didn’t smile, but there was something in her expression. She looked away for a second, hesitated, and shook her head. “No, Luke. Even though I was completely, one hundred percent complicit in our no-strings weekend, I will not have a repeat. It was all I wanted then. We were two strangers on the other side of the world, attracted to each other, but it was just sex. For a moment, it was what I needed, being someone else, doing something wild and crazy that I wouldn’t normally do. But here we are, back in reality, where I live. And I’m friends with your family, so if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to leave that moment in time, that weekend we shared, where it is. Let’s not mention it or talk about it. And, to be clear, it won’t ever happen again. Goodnight, Luke.”

She stepped inside while he held the screen, then closed the inside door in his face before he could add anything.

He listened to the sound of the deadbolts locking. As he stepped back, letting the screen door close, a faint light flicked on, and he dragged his gaze to the front window, where heavy curtains were drawn. The blinds were closed on the other windows, too.

Something wasn’t right here. Something was off. She had walked into a darkened house, heavily secured, with curtains drawn and blinds closed. No one did that unless she had something to hide, something inside that she didn’t want anyone to see.

Luke strode to the edge of the front yard, across the grass, and took in the side of the small house. Memories of his weekend with the redhead were coming back to him, every kiss, every touch, every moment they had spent together.

He wondered now what it was about her that had him seeing shadows and ghosts.

Chapter 3

“Thought I heard you out here,” said Raymond O’Connell, wearing an old T-shirt and sweats, his hair sticking up as he reached for the coffeepot. Surprisingly, his dad had managed to maintain his other identity, Jake from California, boyfriend to his mother, who had somehow convinced him to stay in Livingston because it was better for her.

Better for his mom meant not spending months away from her children and grandchildren. He’d never expected Raymond to give in the way he had, considering danger could always be one step away.

“It’s morning, quiet, just the way I like it,” Luke said.

The sun was just coming up, and the sound of the birds from the open kitchen window was the only thing he wanted to hear in the morning. He stared at his open laptop on the island in front of him, then took in his dad, whose dark hair was filled with more and more gray every day. Raymond took a swallow of coffee and leaned against the sink, not pulling his gaze. Apparently, he had something on his mind.

“I take it Mom is still asleep,” Luke said. Knowing his mom was happy now, no longer alone, made him unsettled in a way it shouldn’t have. Maybe it was because it seemed everyone had someone except him. That misery loves company was a fact he was becoming too familiar with, though he wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone.

“She is,” Raymond said. “You already know she’s made it clear she’s not leaving Livingston. I’m not sure how comfortable I am, but I’ll take it a day at a time, I guess, for your mom, at least for the foreseeable future. She has plans for today, wanting to drag me along to Suzanne’s to make sure she has everything she needs and to fuss over her. She’s counting down the days until Suzanne has the baby. Our baby having a baby…” His dad’s face softened as if he was sinking into his family happiness. “She’s really digging her heels in about not leaving. Then there are Eva and Cameron, and I think she’s made some plans with Alison today, too. She’ll likely also have some questions for you about that redheaded friend of Tessa’s everyone was convinced you needed to meet and settle down with.”

His dad gestured to the secure laptop. He was searching for Misty Bates, but that name wasn’t coming up anywhere. She had no social media or anything on the internet.

“You know, my private life is just that,” Luke said. “I’m not interested in being fixed up. When or if I meet someone, it will be on my terms, not because my nosy siblings want to set me up on a blind date. They’re trying to make me fit in, get me a wife and kids, but you know I’m not exactly the poster boy for domesticity.” He closed the laptop and slid his mug over, then gestured to the coffeepot. His dad must have understood, as he reached to pour him a cup just as he heard footsteps.

His mom appeared, wearing a housecoat. “What’s this about being a poster boy?”

So she had heard what he’d said. His dad had already reached for a mug and poured her a cup as well, and she settled in beside him. Luke could see how much they really loved each other from the way she was looking at him. Then she glanced at Luke. Her short dark hair was a mess, and tiny lines deepened around her eyes as she narrowed her gaze.

“Luke, you think I don’t know that you couldn’t take your eyes off that friend of Tessa’s? Did you ask her out after you walked her home? Very chivalrous, by the way.”

His dad only grunted in response. He could feel the scrutiny.

“What do you know about this Misty Bates?” Luke said. “I mean, she and Tessa are neighbors, friends, but how well do you all know her? Where’s she from? What skeletons are in her closet?”

His dad could hide everything he was thinking, but by the way he narrowed his gaze, not looking away, he had clearly figured out there was more to the situation than met the eye. “You seeing ghosts there, Luke? Sometimes a nice girl is just that.”

Maybe his mom realized what Raymond was getting at. She hesitated before saying, “Luke, I don’t know her that well, but I know Tessa, Jenny, and Charlotte are all friends with her, and your brothers too. They say she’s a nice lady, just a nice hometown girl. She’s never been in trouble and is always pleasant, with a great sense of humor. What is this? Why are you looking to dig up her skeletons? Sure, everyone has secrets of some kind, but it sounds as if you’re trying to find a reason you can’t like her. Is that what you’re doing, Luke, trying to find something on her to vindicate yourself? Maybe we should talk about you and everything you’ve done and still do for the military, the things you can’t and don’t talk about. Maybe the skeletons you’re worried about are your own.”

He had never expected his mom to go off on him like that, and he didn’t much like feeling the scrutiny. They were waiting for him to answer.

If he told them the truth of how they’d really met, their no-strings weekend, would his mom still say she was the nice girl next door? Or would she side with him and say he was right, that she was no good?

If she did the latter, he’d probably find a way to see her. He really was a sick bastard.

“I’m just saying, how well do you really know someone?” he said. “I mean, what does she do? Has she been in trouble? She’s not married, so are there crazy exes in the wings? What do you really know about her past, where she comes from, her parents, her family, where she grew up, and everything she’s done?”

His dad raised his brows, and Luke was pretty sure there was amusement there. Raymond gestured toward him. “Okay, now I’m starting to figure out what this is really about: Rosemary. You know, I can tell you’ve been doing what you do for so long that you automatically look for the darkness in someone now, believing deep, dark secrets are hiding everywhere. But not everyone has something to hide, son. You may be seeing ghosts and problems when there aren’t any—unless you know something about her that the rest of the family doesn’t. Is there something? Or are you trying to find the reasons you can’t be happy? Because I’m telling you from experience, if you look hard enough, you can find a reason with anyone. Don’t do that to yourself.”

His mom glanced to her dad and then back to Luke. He could see the questions she likely had, but he said nothing as she stepped forward and rested her mug on the island. “You know what, Luke? I would like to ask you to do something for me.”

The way she stood there, he could see the determination. For a moment, he didn’t want to agree, because it seemed he could be walking into something. Why was it that he suddenly felt as if his parents were trying to steer him in an unwanted direction?

“And what would that be?” he said.

“I want you to ask Misty out on a date. Tonight. And,” she continued with emphasis when he went to cut in, “I want you to just enjoy yourself, talk to her, have dinner, a beer, something. But it should be an honest to goodness date, where no one can tell you what to do. And you will stop this nonsense of trying to dig up something in her past.”

Maybe it was the way Iris and Raymond seemed to be tag-teaming him that had him wanting to roll his shoulders, to fidget, which he never did. His mom inclined her head, her lips firmed. He was seeing a new side of her, that determination.

“And then what?” he said. “If I ask her out on a date, you’ll drop this?”

A smile touched his mom’s lips, and she shrugged. “Just call her,” she said. She pulled open the drawer and produced an old address book, which she flipped open and set on top of his closed laptop. “There’s her number.” She pressed her finger to the page.

He wondered whether his mom might even pick up the phone for him and start dialing. It was just a feeling he had. He’d never expected this from her.

“On one condition,” he said. He could see amusement in the way his dad smiled.

“And that is?” His mom didn’t sound impressed.

“If I call her and take her out, you can’t ask about her, bring her up, or try to set me up again. And,” he added with emphasis, “you will make sure everyone in the family backs off. No asking how the date was, no working an angle, no pushing me about taking her out again or suddenly forcing her into my path. Nothing. You agree to all that, and I’ll call her.”

He actually pulled out his phone. His dad tried to hide his amusement by pulling his hand over his face, and he could hear the scratch of his whiskers. His mom, he could see, was having a lot of trouble with his terms. Maybe she hadn’t expected this.

She set a hand on her hip before looking over her shoulder to his dad, who only gestured toward Luke. When she looked back at him, he could see the determination. “You want to make that deal with me, with your brothers and sisters, then you have to be one hundred percent present on your date. No cutting the night short or making excuses or spending the night trying to spin theories about why she isn’t for you. You will not and cannot have it in your head that it isn’t going to work. You have to be open to her, talk to her, listen to her. You will be all in on your night out with Misty, or no deal.”

His mother wasn’t about to let him have the upper hand in this. For a second, he took in her extended hand, considering. He hesitated only a second before shaking it. “Fine. I agree. But have you ever thought that just maybe, Misty herself may not be interested in me?”

Chapter 4

He could have called, but showing up on her doorstep seemed like the wiser choice. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something about Misty Bates. He had questions, a lot of questions, as he stood on the sidewalk in front of her house.

His brother’s place seemed so quiet with Owen and Tessa gone, yet so did Misty’s house, where the curtains and heavy blinds were still closed. Was he just seeing ghosts? Maybe she liked her privacy. Maybe he needed there to be something wrong with her so he could justify to himself why he couldn’t be happy.

But then, wasn’t it true that the first thing someone did when hiding was close up everything, make sure no one could see in?

He took in the midday sun and heard the ding of his phone. When he pulled it from his pocket and checked the screen, there was a text from Jess.

Who is Misty Bates? What do you want to know, work or personal?

He smiled. His Googling had come up with nothing on the woman, yet it seemed everyone now plastered everything across social media: their photos, their personal lives, even things no one should ever see. But not Misty. She didn’t seem to exist.

He typed a quick text back. Everything you can find. She’s just a girl next door. Family is trying to do the matchmaking thing. Find out what she was doing in Plaka three years ago.

He glanced to the closed door and back to the phone when he saw the thumbs-up in reply, knowing Jess would dig and find things the average person couldn’t. At least his team leader wouldn’t accuse him of being paranoid and looking for ghosts. The rest of the team saw the same bad things, the same secrets, that he did. It meant expecting the worst in everyone, which was the one thing he couldn’t do if he wanted a healthy, happy relationship.

But then, Luke and his team didn’t have perfect all-American families waiting for them at home. He still wondered how his own dad managed it, after doing what he did and being who he was.

Luke walked up the front walkway, taking in the small paving stones that led to the house. The front was bare, with no flowers, nothing special that would draw attention. It was just a house with no personality. The door was closed, and he took a second to just listen, but he heard nothing.

He pulled open the screen, fisted his hand, and knocked. The seconds ticked by, and he thought he saw movement from inside. He knew the curtain had moved, but someone was being careful. Then he heard footsteps and the sound of the two deadbolts, and he couldn’t help wondering how his family hadn’t thought that was odd in any way.

The door opened a crack, and he spotted a bare hallway behind her. Her short red hair was damp and her face free of makeup, and she wore a black T-shirt and jean shorts. The day was warm, but by the way her honey-brown eyes flashed, she wasn’t happy to see him.

“Luke, what are you doing here?”

Her hand was on the door, and the motion told him she didn’t want him coming in. He wondered now whether Tessa or anyone from his family had ever been inside. For a second, he wished he’d called Ryan, Jenny, Marcus, Charlotte, or, better yet, nosy Suzanne and questioned them more about how Misty lived. Had they ever been over at her place? What did they know about her past?

“Are you just going to stand there, staring at me, or are you going to say something?” she said.

He let out a rough laugh under his breath, pulled off his sunglasses, and tucked them in the front of his gray T-shirt. “My family really wants us together, apparently, but it seems you’re the one I’m going to have to convince. I found myself roped into asking you out this morning, so how about it?”

She stared up at him in disbelief, and for a moment he wasn’t sure she’d answer. “No,” she finally said with emphasis. “First, that’s not how you ask a girl out. You were roped into it? Really, Luke?” She let out a soft laugh, but she still hadn’t moved, and he could see she wasn’t about to make this easy.

“You realize my family will keep pushing…”

“I told you last night that I would make sure your family understands I’m not interested, so you’re off the hook,” she said. Then she went to step back, and he knew the door was about to be closed in his face again. He slapped his hand to it.

“Hey, just wait a second,” he said. “I’m starting to pick up on something that has me wondering if there’s more to you than I would’ve thought. I don’t know. It just seems as if you’re trying to hide something.”

She let out a sigh. “And what would that be, Luke?”

“Well, that’s the thing. I don’t know. Are you hiding something, Misty? Because I’m wondering a lot of things as I look at you, at how you’re acting. Tell me, why is it that you have everything closed up here, curtains and blinds so no one can see in? Then there are the double deadbolts on the door. Are you scared of someone? Are you running, hiding?”

He could see her thinking. Her mouth opened as if she was going to say something, but then she didn’t. She was nervous. Something was off.

“What, because I’m not interested in a repeat of what happened with a man who couldn’t even use his real name, I’m suddenly hiding something? Maybe I should be asking you the same questions, Luke. I mean, why the fake name? Why the fake identity? You’re in the military—the army, is it? I don’t really know, because your family didn’t elaborate, which has me wondering what you were really doing in Plaka. I mean, look at you. You don’t look like some grunt. Maybe I should be asking what you’re hiding, what you’re really about.

“You know what, Luke? I’m not interested, so if you don’t mind, I’d really like it if you’d not show up again. I’m sure you don’t want your family knowing how we met and how you lied to me. So if it’s all the same to you, please take your hand off my door and go away. No is no. I will not go out with you, and I will not have you questioning me. Instead, maybe you should take a long, hard look at yourself in the mirror.” She really was going off on him, going over the top in her anger.

“You’re deflecting, Misty, and your outrage is straying into defensiveness. You ever invite my family into your place? It’s not lost on me that you haven’t answered me about this Fort Knox thing you have going on. Yeah, I know hiding, and I know secrets. You know what I do? It’s the kind of job where a secret doesn’t stay secret for long. I can dig and find out all kinds of secrets about someone that the average person would never learn. The skeletons. Do you have skeletons lurking behind those curtains? Are you in trouble? Did you do something, or are you hiding from something?”

She paled, and her eyes flickered with emotion. When his phone dinged, he didn’t pull it from his pocket at first. He was standing in front of her, seeing the kind of fear on her face that told him he was treading right into something she didn’t want him to see.

When he finally glanced at his phone, keeping his hand on the open door, he saw a text from Jess.

You were right. Found something. Call me. Maybe ask her who Chloe Welch is.

But something about being right in these circumstances didn’t make him happy.

“Please go, Luke,” she said. Her voice was low, nervous.

“Sure. But first, tell me who Chloe Welch is.”

She let go of the door. For a moment, she looked as if the rug had been yanked out from under her. Whatever it was Jess had found, evidently, Chloe Welch was at the center of what Misty was hiding.

Chapter 5

“You’re an asshole,” Misty said.

Luke filled a glass with water and took in the sparse furnishings of the small older house. A sofa sat in the living room, with its dated brown paneling, and there was no table in the green and brown kitchen, only two bar stools at the island. Misty was perched on one, her elbows resting on the speckled brown laminate countertop, her head in her hands. He couldn’t see her face. She was hiding.

“Here, drink this.” He set the glass down, and she reached for it, then looked up at him. He shrugged. “You think I haven’t been called that and worse? The thing about me, though, is that I push and dig until I find what I’m looking for. I had a feeling you were hiding something. So who is this Chloe Welch? You want to tell me, or do I need to make a call and find out what you’re hiding?”

As he pulled his cell phone from his pocket, Misty glanced to it and sat stiffly. She lifted the glass and took a swallow of water, then took her time resting it back on the counter.

“Last chance.” He knew he was pushing.

“Chloe Welch is me,” she said.

Okay, that he hadn’t expected.

“Excuse me? You’re Chloe?”

She only nodded, then tilted her head. “You have someone digging into my life? Why?”

“Already told you I don’t like secrets, and I knew there was a big red flag with you. So you’re Chloe. Why the name change? What did you do? Who are you hiding from? Does anyone in my family know?”

She tensed, her jaw stiff, and for a moment he wondered whether he should just phone Jess and find out everything. It would be simpler, more to the point. He could walk out the door and be done there. And then what? He’d tell his family he was right?

For reasons he couldn’t have explained, he just couldn’t do that. Maybe it was the weekend he’d had, or his siblings’ fondness for her, or the fact that she was the nice girl next door, but he needed her to explain everything. He wanted her to come clean to him.

“As far as anyone knows, I’m Misty and have been for a long time. I mean, evidently, I don’t need to explain to you why a person changes her name.”

He held her gaze. How deeply was she steeped in trouble? “Did you do something? Are you hiding? Why would you change your name unless you’ve done something and need to hide?”

She pulled in a breath. “I don’t want to be found, if that’s what you’re asking. No, I didn’t do the kind of thing you’re thinking. Or maybe I did, because I don’t know what you’re thinking. The way you’re looking at me, I feel as if I’m the worst of the worst, as if I did something, when it was really the other way around. Let’s just say I saw something and tried to do the right thing, but I ended up coming forward about the wrong kind of person.

“No one here knows. That’s why I moved here for a fresh start when everything blew up in my face. Your family doesn’t know, and I’d rather they didn’t. I have a good life here, and I want it to stay that way. I like being happy, Luke, and I like being Misty. I don’t suppose you could just walk out that door and forget you heard that name?”

He realized she was serious. He shook his head. “No, sorry. I can’t, or I won’t. Tell me what happened. Start at the beginning.” He was still holding his phone, seeing another text from Jess.

You there??

He sent a quick text back: Yeah. Call you soon. With Chloe now.

Maybe she knew the message was about her, as she glanced away. He wondered what she was thinking. Had she been running when he met her in Plaka?

“I used to live in a small Wyoming town, and I saw something I wasn’t supposed to see,” she said. “Because I believed in doing the right thing, I came forward to the police, the small-town police, who I believed would see justice done. But the world doesn’t work that way, and I soon discovered that.

“I had seen a man running from a house before it caught fire. It was arson. The family was inside, and they all died. There were two little kids, four and six. That was what made me come forward. It should’ve been an open and shut case, but the man was a local hero by the name of Dirk Randall. He’d saved a kid from drowning when he was a teenager—and not just any kid but the son of a retired senator. So he was given a medal, you know, the ones towns and cities give out when you do something heroic for someone who matters. Do you want me to go on?”

He put his cell phone down on the island. It seemed she’d walked into the kind of situation that could’ve ended up with someone gunning for her. “Yes, go on.” He gestured toward her. “You came forward and said what no one wanted to hear, and you were run out of town.”

She only stared at him, confusion in her honey-brown eyes. Her brows knit. “No. The police, the sheriff, and the deputies were all over it. In fact, they arrested him, and I was the key witness for the DA. But having a senator in your corner, and the kind of political and legal power that comes with that, had the defence team coming at me. I mean, these were good lawyers, a dream team that could spin anything, the kind of lawyers I would never be able to afford.

“They were so good that if I hadn’t seen what I had, I’d likely have believed the story they spun. I was cross-examined on the stand in a courtroom, questioned for two days. My entire life was put on trial, my character assassinated, and every piece of dirt they could find on me was dug up, including the fact that I had stolen a pack of gum from the drug store when I was six. The owner caught me and I was grounded for, like, a year. Then there were the times in high school that I had tried pot or beer, or the time I punched the girl who’d been making eyes at my boyfriend in the face.

“I was basically made out to be a thief, a liar, a tramp, and don’t forget a drug addict. Even though I’d never met Dirk, my credibility was destroyed. It was alleged that I was jealous, trying to hurt a young man who had saved someone of importance. So who do you believe? I’m a good person. I can remember saying that over and over on the stand as everything about me was twisted. No one bothered to talk about how I volunteered at the animal shelter, or how I picked up the elderly during the election when they had no other way of getting to the polls to vote. I paid my taxes, paid all my bills, even ran after people who dropped money to give it back to them. I was happy. But that side of me, who I was, no one saw it.

“I had some of the best lawyers gunning for me, destroying my character. Every question they asked was spun in a way that it wouldn’t matter what I said, because for a moment, even I started to believe I was a horrible person.” She lifted her hands as if they were a scale. “So you have jurors watching the show and deciding who to believe, the lying tramp or the local hero who risked his life. Reasonable doubt was all they needed, and the small-town jury voted unanimously to acquit, without a doubt.

“When I came forward, I was treated like a hero for speaking up, but suddenly, all the protection the cops had promised disappeared. I was seen as the enemy. The town I grew up in turned hostile, and I was forced to leave. So yes, Luke, when you met me in Plaka, I had sold everything I owned and taken a trip as far away from that small town as I could, to a place where no one knew my name. And you know what I learned after that no-strings weekend? In becoming Misty Bates, I suddenly had a chance at a new life. No one saw me as the person who’d accused a local hero. I moved to Livingston, Montana, because it’s not Wyoming, and for the three years I’ve been here, I haven’t had any whispers behind my back.

“I haven’t been called a liar. I haven’t had my car tires slashed or had ‘whore’ written with a Sharpie on my car door. I haven’t had any notes left in my mailbox, threatening my life, threatening to violate me. I was scared, because when you’re suddenly seen as guilty, as a liar, you stop sleeping, stop eating. I didn’t know if I would walk into my house to find some crazy person waiting to exact justice. I was seen as someone who would lie about a man, a local hero, someone who had done more for the community than anyone…” She pulled in a breath.

His phone dinged again.

“What is it?” she said.

He picked it up and just shook his head.

Call me, Jess had written. It can’t wait, because the name was flagged.

He dialed and said, “Do you know why your name would be flagged in the system?”

She didn’t answer, but he didn’t miss the alarm in her expression.

Jess answered before the phone had finished ringing once. “It’s about time,” he said. “What the hell are you stepping into?”

“Well, you know me. What’s going on?”

“This Misty Bates used to be Chloe Welch. I found her through ViCAP. Her name was flagged, something about a fire, arson. A family perished. It’s pretty bad shit, and she’s wanted for questioning.”

He wondered, as he looked over to Misty—or was it Chloe?—whether she had any idea. “Who’s looking for her?” he said. “Is it a warrant?”

Maybe she understood, as her face paled again.

“Local cops in Cody, Wyoming,” Jess said. “You should have told me, because her name is flagged, so the moment I started looking, my inquiry triggered something. There’s nothing about a warrant, but you know that doesn’t mean anything. That she’s a person of interest means they have something. You said you’re with her? You know her? What do you want me to do?”

He only shook his head. “Find out why she’s a person of interest, what they have. Thanks for the heads-up,” he said.

He knew Jess would do more than that, anyway. As he rested his phone on the counter, he took in the redhead he’d spent the most incredible weekend with, who had ghosts and secrets that were very real.

If his family only knew the truth.

“Well, say something, please, Luke, because you’re scaring the hell out of me,” she said. “A person of interest? A warrant? What does that mean?”

He wondered for a moment what she wasn’t telling him. “I think you know what it means. It seems you’re in a hot mess, Chloe. Can I call you Chloe?”

She shut her eyes, and when she opened them, he could see the fury, the fear. “Seems we’re beyond that, aren’t we? So what is it, Luke? Level with me. What kind of trouble am I in? Because I don’t know.”

“Seems you’re wanted for questioning, so either you didn’t tell me everything, because it sounds like the cops are looking at you for the fire, or they’re coming after you because the local hero’s lawyers were so good that they’ve got the spotlight shining on you now. Or maybe you lied and made the whole thing up. So which is it, Chloe? Because as I see it, you’ve pissed off the wrong person.”


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The Monday Blog

The Neighbors from Hell

I have always been a huge fan of camping, experiencing the great outdoors, being out in nature, sitting beside that campfire in the peace and quiet.

It’s one of the things I look forward to every year. Now, I know many have converted to all the comforts of home RVs, but I’m still a tent camper. After all, I’m not out there for weeks at a time. It’s a weekend, a couple of days, and I really do go just for the peace and quiet. During dragon boat racing season, pre-pandemic, many of us on the team camped at any of the races that were in more remote locations. Being dragon boat racers, we were in bed early, not there to party!

One of the races was at Sprout Lake, a gorgeous spot on Vancouver Island. My daughter and I had booked a camp spot at the provincial campground for two nights. We pulled in and set up the tent, the stove, everything. One of our fellow teammates, who had pulled in a day earlier and was camping on the other side of the campground, said she was exhausted because the neighbors from hell had kept her awake with incessant noise and an abrupt seven a.m. wakeup call as they cranked up a loud heavy rock tune that she now hated.

How many of you have had a neighbor from hell who cranks his or her music with heavy base, disrupts all the peace and quiet, has no respect for anyone, and is a general nuisance, period? I’m pretty sure everyone can raise a hand and say, yes, been there and hope to never experience that hell again. Well, it turns out these neighbors from hell were an older couple. When I say older, I mean they were likely in their late sixties, early seventies, in very poor health, and the lady used a walker. They had apparently lost their home and were living in a tent trailer, moving around from camp spot to empty camp spot. That particular night would be our turn, as they had moved their tent trailer to the spot right beside ours, as it was the only spot left.

When the park warden came around to collect the camp fees, I had a word with her about the couple and the warning I had received about their incessant over-the-top noise. She assured me she would stay on top of them and make sure they remained quiet, but did I walk away feeling reassured? Not in the least, considering that as soon as she drove away, they fired up their generator, which was noisy and clunky, and turned their loud music on. I was already thinking this was going to be painful.

Sure enough, as my daughter and I were in our tent that night, trying to fall asleep, we could hear them arguing next door, slurring their words because they were drinking a lot. The older lady fell out of the tent trailer with her walker and carried on, howling, and he fell out on top of her. Now, when I say they were both drunk, I mean they were three sheets to the wind, falling-down drunk.

The park warden did her final rounds for the night not long after and came in yelling, “What is going on here?” I couldn’t hear all the excuses they piled on her, but I had my hand over my face, at a loss for words. We had to be up really early, like, before six a.m., because we were racing in the morning. At that point, it was past the eleven p.m. quiet hour, which, if you don’t know, refers to the rule that visitors are supposed to be absolutely quiet in a provincial park between eleven p.m. and seven a.m.—though, come to think of it, camping seems to have been getting noisier and noisier lately, with more people playing their music.

But let’s go back to the park warden, a young lady, early twenties. She ordered them to shut off their generator and shut the music off. Then there was the drinking. We could hear the beer bottles clinking, the cans getting kicked over. It was quiet for a moment as we heard the park warden drive away, and I lay there and shut my eyes, thinking I might finally get some sleep. But not five minutes later, the generator was fired up, and they were caterwauling back and forth with their drunken loud talking. Then the music started, just loud enough that it was going to keep me awake.

At some point, you would think they would need sleep, considering their age and their apparent bad health, but the noise of the generator seemed to go on all night. By five a.m., I was exhausted and a little beyond pissed, because now the noise was coming from a really loud radio. So I climbed out of my sleeping bag, slipped on a heavy black coat because June in the mountains is cold, pulled on a ballcap, and shoved my feet in my shoes. As I crawled out of the tent, my daughter said, “Mom, be nice.” Yes, she was still awake too, because sleep was something we hadn’t gotten much of.

I think I grunted in response as I stepped out into the darkness. I flicked on my flashlight and made my way over to the campsite next door, where he was sitting in their small SUV, windows up and the radio blasting, and I walked over and tapped on his window. When he rolled it down, there was a moment of alarm on his face. Apparently, he thought I was the head of parks, likely from my heavy black coat, ball cap, and pissed-off expression.

I just went with it and said, “Shut it down—now. There are people trying to sleep here. You’ve been carrying on all night.”

He, thinking I was in charge there, started to explain that he was deaf in one ear and hard of hearing, and he needed to hear the fishing report…

“Shut it off now,” I cut in, making a motion with my hand to cut the noise before he could finish his mile-long list of excuses.

His hand went right to the radio to shut it off, and he shut off his vehicle, too, as it was also running. He said nothing else, and neither did I.

I walked away, back to our camp, knowing there was no way I would be getting any sleep now, so I put on coffee. We had to be down at the race site in less than two hours. As soon as seven a.m. hit, not even a second past, as we were just making our way out of our camp spot to the race site, the neighbors from hell fired up their generator and cranked their heavy rock music really loud.

The day was long and the racing hard, especially on little sleep. When we packed up after the races and returned to our camp spot, which we had paid two nights for, the elderly couple were drunk. They had beer cans filling a picnic table, the generator was running, and the music was still cranked. After searching for the park warden and realizing she was nowhere to be found, we packed up our gear and made the long trek home, because there was no way I was staying for another sleepless night.

The only thing worse than having a neighbor from hell while camping or holidaying is having a disruptive neighbor who lives right next door to you every day, every night, one you can never get away from.


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THE SECRET HUSBAND

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“A gritty, emotionally gripping story with quite a few surprises and twists that I really loved reading.”
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THE MISSING FATHER

Narrated by John Mo

Luke’s questions have brought trouble back with him onto US soil, all the way to his hometown—and ultimately, his quest might put his family in the line of fire.

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The Monday Blog

Get a SNEAK PEEK of my upcoming O’Connells novel!

Happy weekend, all!  It’s Preview Friday, and I’ve got your first peek at the next O’Connells novel, THE GIRL NEXT DOOR!  This upcoming release is due out at the end of this month, but you can read Chapter 1 here today.  And check out THE MISSING FATHER, now in audio format with FREE Audible codes, plus a BookSweeps giveaway.  Have a wonderful weekend!  –Lorhainne 

The Girl Next Door

The Girl Next Door

Romance and suspense collide in this haunting romantic thriller. When special forces operator Luke O’Connell meets a woman he never expected to see again, he uncovers the dangerous secret she is hiding and realizes the lengths someone will go to stop him from uncovering the truth.

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Chapter 1

Small and intimate was how Luke would have described Tessa and Owen’s backyard, with its flowers, garden, and privacy. The wedding had been for just close friends and family. He had never seen his brother so happy, and as he leaned on the bar and watched a family he was finding it harder and harder to feel part of, he had to remind himself that his being alone wasn’t his brother’s fault.

“You’re pretty quiet over here, drinking your beer, saying nothing, watching everyone.”

He turned to take in Jack, his brother-in-law, who was now the governor of Montana. Four state troopers were present, one at the back gate, another in the yard over by Karen, and two in the small house. He knew that had to be giving the neighbors a lot to talk about. Jack lifted his hand as one of the troopers walked out of the house and over to him, then whispered something.

Jack wore his black suit as if it had been made for him. If Luke had been a girl, he’d have given his brother-in-law a second and third look, too. Jack wasn’t as tall as he was, but he thought he might be prettier.

“Just enjoying a beer, Jack,” he said.

Jack pulled his gaze, wincing into the sun. By the tug at the corners of his lips, Luke wasn’t sure whether he was trying not to laugh or had something else on his mind, likely some humor at his expense. The trooper had walked off and now stood at the back door.

“I see you came alone, no girl on your arm,” Jack said. He held a tumbler of bourbon, he thought. His one drink of the night, evidently, or maybe he’d live it up and have two.

Luke didn’t even grunt, and he didn’t pull his gaze. “Nope.” He lifted his beer and downed the rest before putting the bottle on the bar and reaching behind it to pull another from a bucket of ice. He twisted off the cap and heard the sigh from Jack.

“You know everyone feels bad over what happened with Rosemary…”

There it was, that feeling, that sense of discomfort that settled right in the pit of his stomach. No one would let it go, yet he had. He allowed his gaze to settle on Jack with the practiced warning he gave to anyone who risked ending up on his wrong side.

“Is that why you came over, to counsel me about coming solo today?” Luke said. “All my siblings are now married, so should I have dragged some woman along with me? At least then you’d all be happy. Sure, I could have brought a plus one, but there would’ve been questions, a lot of questions, from my nosy family, and the poor girl doing me a favor would have been running before Owen and Tessa even said ‘I do.’ I’m not seeing anyone, am not involved, and don’t plan on being so anytime soon. Rosemary couldn’t have worked, anyway, so you just tell everyone to back off and let themselves off the hook. That was a momentary lapse, thinking someone like me could have something that resembled normal. Being a team guy, I know I can’t have a girl waiting at home.”

He let the words hang. Did the amusement on Jack’s face mean he wasn’t buying any of what Luke was saying or something else? That had been the most words Luke had strung together in a conversation with anyone in a long time.

“You know, you can keep telling everyone you’re not meant for a relationship, but I know better than anyone that’s not true,” Jack said. “You should know that your sisters are likely going to take matters into their own hands. Just a heads-up.”

He just stared at Jack, who was now leaning on the bar, staring into his tumbler. Something about the way he said it sounded like a warning. He knew something.

“And what matters would those be?”

From across the garden, his sister Suzanne was making a beeline over to them. Her long dirty-blond hair was wavy and styled, and her swelling belly in her gold and white maternity dress meant she was closer to having the baby than not. Harold, her husband of forty-five days, was following her .

“Oh, they figure they need to help you along toward happiness,” Jack said. “You know your sisters.”

Suzanne slid up beside him, linked her arm in his, and looked at his beer fondly. “You know, being pregnant, I absolutely miss that ice-cold beer. The taste…”

Luke just lifted a brow and glanced over to Harold. The man had been summoned and was evidently following orders, having reluctantly walked over for a friendly chat. His little sister did have a habit of getting her way.

“Well, you can just live vicariously through me as I enjoy this,” Luke said. “So Jack was just giving me a heads-up that you and Karen are up to something, planning on sticking your noses into my life and doing something I’m not going to like. You know my life is my life. Don’t be thinking you can fix me or—”

“Jack, you weren’t supposed to say anything,” Suzanne said. “Anyway, she’s a nice girl. You’ll like her. And it was Marcus who brought it up, so you can’t give me and Karen all the credit. In fact, I think it was Jenny who mentioned it to Ryan first, or was it Tessa?”

His sister looked over to Harold. Now he knew why the man seemed so uncomfortable. He only lifted his gaze in a way that made Luke feel positive he didn’t want to answer. “No idea, Suzanne. But Luke is right. You can’t be trying to set your brother up. I told you before that this will backfire. Sorry, Luke. I told her. I’m just a bystander.” He was holding a beer, his suit jacket gone and his white dress shirt sleeves rolled up.

Luke took in the wedding ring on his sister’s finger, remembering the courthouse ceremony, five minutes to say “I do,” sign the certificate, and walk out of City Hall. It had been quick, efficient, and nothing like the super romantic backyard celebration of his big brother. He hadn’t expected this from Owen, but then, he really was head over heels for Tessa. Apparently, a guy would do anything for the girl he loved.

“I don’t need you to find me a girl, Suzanne.” Luke lifted his beer and took a swallow, then spotted Karen in a silky red dress that showed off all her curves. He didn’t know who she was talking to, but her laughter drifted his way. His mom and dad were across the yard, too, with Alison and Bennett. The rest of the family and a handful of friends had turned this small and intimate event into the kind of party that should have made him happy. And he was happy—for Owen.

Suzanne was still holding his arm. “No, I’m sure you don’t, but humor us, okay? Because sometimes we just know better. I think you’ll agree when you meet her, and you’ll actually thank us for sticking our noses into your life and wanting to fix you up.” She fisted her hand and punched his arm playfully in that way of hers, though she really could pack a punch if she wanted to.

Harold lifted his gaze as if he’d already heard this, whereas Jack, he thought, was doing his best not to laugh at his expense. Luke stared down at his sister again, thinking she had too much time on her hands.

“You think you know what I need in my life more than I do? If we’re sticking our noses into each other’s lives, when is it my turn? I mean, you’re due in a few weeks, and then what? Are you staying home to raise the baby? I guess that would be a win-win for Harold, wouldn’t it? Kind of every guy’s dream, having a barefoot housewife who’ll have dinner ready for him when he gets home, keep his house clean, fetch his slippers, and not talk back.”

Suzanne was staring daggers back at him. He knew full well which buttons to push and exactly what to say. Harold said nothing, though alarm flashed in his eyes, and he lifted his hands and stepped back as if wanting to take cover before the sparks flew.

Suzanne hissed, giving him a snarl that wiped her smile away. “You’re such an asshole sometimes,” she snapped.

“You know what?” Harold said. “I think I hear Marcus calling me.” Apparently, he had been smart enough not to wade into that dangerous territory with Suzanne, and he stepped back farther as if he couldn’t believe Luke had brought it up.

Jack still appeared amused and was now shaking his head.

“Don’t try spinning this back on me,” Suzanne said. “You think I’m not used to how you fight, low and dirty? You toss out fighting words that you know will get under my skin and have me wanting to scratch your eyes out, except you know I’m more likely to slug you… Are you trying to mess with my head? Seriously, Luke, I’m not biting, not today. Tomorrow is a different story, though. Now I’m even more determined to mess with your life.

“And just FYI, after the baby is born, Mom and Charlotte have both said they’re willing to step in and help out when I get back to work. And I will, because I’ve talked to Marcus several times about joining the department. He brushed me off the first three times, saying he can’t hire me because I’m family, and Harold and I are married, but I pointed out to him that Charlotte worked there even after he and she were married. There’s always the option of being a paramedic, or I could get back my job as a firefighter…”

Luke couldn’t believe she’d said that. “The fire department you were fired from is not going to take you back, Suzanne,” he said.

Even Jack, who was a master of not showing what he was thinking, seemed surprised. He was now leaning on the bar and hadn’t pulled his gaze from Suzanne. Luke could see his sister was still figuring things out. She’d really loved being a firefighter, but the politics had already decided she had to go.

“Look, I’ve heard over and over from Harold that there’s no chance they’ll take me back, but I’m persistent, and there is always a way. Yes, they scapegoated me, but I’m made of stronger stuff, persistence. I’ll work the next department over. I’ve already reached out to the chief, and I still know people there, so I’m not about to take no for an answer. You can stop pushing my buttons with this 1950s ‘back to the kitchen’ thing. You think I don’t know what you’re doing, Luke, trying to spin this back on me so I’m not fixing you up? Well, it won’t work, because she’s already here.”

He knew he was frowning, and he realized Jack wasn’t surprised. He seemed to already know what was up. A smile had inched its way back into Suzanne’s expression as if she was going to make this suddenly painful for him…

“She’s here—like, in this backyard, at this wedding?”

Suzanne was really smiling now. She only nodded. Another glance to Jack, and he could see he knew who the girl in question was.

Luke found himself scanning the people, his family, Owen and Tessa’s friends, then looked back to Suzanne. “And you…what, want to introduce me and expect some happily ever after? I’ll pass.”

She tapped his arm and then was somehow pulling him. Damn! For a pregnant woman, she was strong.

“Suzanne, what the hell…?” was all he said, letting his sister lead him across the yard. He spotted Marcus, the best man, dressed in a dark suit, his tie loosened, smiling as if he knew, too. So was Charlotte, wearing a frilly sleeveless blue dress.

“Oh, you just hush up and be nice,” Suzanne said.

Ahead of them, Ryan wore a navy suit, standing beside Jenny, with her long dark hair hanging in soft curls. He stepped back to reveal the woman they were talking with, who had short red hair.

“Misty, this is my brother Luke, the one I was telling you about,” Suzanne said as they approached.

She looked up, slender, short, wearing a soft green short-sleeved dress that hugged her curves. Luke felt that off feeling he’d had too many times before, taking in those full lips, her oval face, and those eyes, honey gold, a color he’d never forget. Her smile was there one minute, gone the next.

He just stared at her, remembering well the weekend they’d shared together. He felt someone slap his back, one of his brothers, and knew everyone was watching them.

“This is Misty Bates, Tessa and Owen’s neighbor and friend,” Jenny said.

Luke hadn’t looked away. Misty hesitated and then seemed to pull herself together, holding out her delicate small hand. There was that smile again, with those dimples he remembered fondly.

“Hi, Luke. I’ve heard a lot about you from your family. It’s nice to meet you.”

So she was playing the game, not wanting anyone to catch on that they had already met. He could call her out or play along. He touched her hand, holding it, and hesitated, feeling the warmth and the unease. Evidently, she wasn’t about to come clean.

“Since my family doesn’t know how to stay out of my business, how about we get a drink and exchange numbers?” he said.

He thought it was Marcus who made a rude noise. Luke somehow manoeuvred Misty back to the bar, where Jack was no longer standing, holding out his arm as he walked with her. She wore killer heels, which showed off legs he remembered well.

One, two, three… He had counted their footsteps in his head until they were far enough away from everyone. The tall, lanky bartender was opening a bottle of red wine and glanced at her, saying, “What can I get you?”

“I’ll have a glass of that red,” she said.

Luke waited for the bartender to pour it. “You know what I remember, Misty, about the last time I saw you?”

She stood so stiffly, lifting her chin as she flicked those eyes at him. He swore he could get lost in them. She said nothing for a moment as she took the glass from the bartender and sipped. “Okay, I’ll bite,” she replied. “What?”

Luke waited for the bartender to walk away, well aware that everyone in his family was watching them. “One of the best no-strings weekends of my life. But I never expected to see you again. Small world, Misty. Greece is a long way from Livingston.”

She only nodded. “It is, at that. So tell me, Luke, when did you join the military? Because I’m pretty sure that when we spent the weekend together, I knew you as a man named Henry who worked for a software company in California, not as Luke O’Connell.”

It had been during one of his missions on the other side of the world, when he played the role of someone else. He really hadn’t expected to see her again.

“Well, I guess you know I lied. Should I apologize?” He knew he sounded like an asshole.

She lifted a brow. “For lying about who you were or for the no-strings weekend? If I recall, we both agreed. Sure, I could be angry, but instead, let’s stand here for a few more minutes and pretend to talk while I drink my wine, and then I’ll make my way back over to your family and make my excuses, tell them I’m not interested, that you’re not my type or something like that.” She was so damn matter of fact.

And she was giving him an out. But there was just something about her, something that seemed different from the woman he had spent that weekend with in Plaka.

“Does that mean you’re not up for another no-strings weekend?” he said.

She could have slapped him. Instead, she pulled in a breath and seemed to consider something, lifting her glass to her lips.

Suzanne strode over and slid her hand over Misty’s arm before she could answer him. “So are you two hitting it off?” she said.

Of course his sister couldn’t leave it alone. The smile was pasted back on Misty’s face now, the one that reminded him of a nice girl, but he realized that easy smile was only a front.

She let out a soft laugh. “Luke is great. It was really nice to put a face to the name after all I’ve heard. But I’m going to make my way back…” She gestured behind her to where Ryan, Jenny, Charlotte, and Marcus were, then lowered her wine and started walking away.

That left him and Suzanne, who was now staring daggers his way again. “What did you say to her, Luke?”

He just took in his sister, then lifted his beer, watching as Misty talked with Jenny and Charlotte. When she looked his way, he realized maybe there was a reason she didn’t want anyone to know they’d already met. There was just something about her…

“We just chatted for a minute, Suzanne, until you interrupted,” he said.

Suzanne frowned and tapped his arm. “Do you need me to drag you back over there?”

He only shook his head and looked back over to Misty, who was laughing at something Charlotte had said. He knew when a woman was avoiding looking his way. What was it about her? It seemed secrets and lies were just what he attracted.

“Nope,” he said. “I already told you I’m not looking for a relationship, Suzanne, and she’s not really my type.” He hoped she would drop it.

“So what exactly is your type, Luke?”

There it was, the million-dollar question. All he did was lift his beer and take another swallow as he realized Misty Bates was looking right at him.


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THE MISSING FATHER

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Luke’s questions have brought trouble back with him onto US soil, all the way to his hometown—and ultimately, his quest might put his family in the line of fire.

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The Monday Blog

Back in the news more shutdowns

Last week brought more shutdowns, more restrictions, and those who will be affected most are the segment of the population that make up the frontline workers, the same ones who’ve had the shit kicked out of them from the beginning of this pandemic.

I was one of many who listened in horror as the leader of our province blamed those aged 20 to 39 for our current predicament, a rise in COVID cases, before announcing another shutdown. This will close restaurants, from indoor dining to bars, as well as much of the service industry. The anger that followed from our millennials resonated with me and had me asking, are all leaders so out of touch with the younger generation? Millennials are now parents, raising young kids, and are the hardest-working segment of the population, the ones working for very low salaries in grocery stores, retail stores, restaurants, and bars. They are the ones living with roommates and in shared accommodations, renting because they can’t afford the high price of owning a home.

One of my kids, my son, falls right into that category. For the leader of the province to call such people out and blame them only throws gasoline on the fire. It has me asking, if you have job security, own the roof over your head, and will never have to worry about renting or feeding your family or having a job tomorrow, are you really the right person to stand there and tell people that we all have to sacrifice, that we’re all in this together? What followed was blasted all over the news: A restaurant at a ski hill advertised half-price drinks and food before the midnight shutdown, and it was flooded with young people dancing on tables, crowding with no masks.

Of course, the restaurant owner is being tarred and feather along with the young people who basically lifted their middle fingers to the province and the orders. Honestly, I saw that coming. But can I blame the young people or the restaurant for what happened? Not really. The restaurant owner wrote an apology, and his future is now in jeopardy, and many of the employees at the ski hill have been fired, but it’s solved nothing. Considering they’re struggling to begin with, I don’t think it’s helpful to blame an entire generation for the bad choices of a few. Maybe the reaction of those young people wasn’t ideal, but when you’re not heard and it feels as if you’re continually being stepped on and ground into the ground, what happens is protests, parties, and anything opposite of what is ordered.

Then follows more outrage at our young people because they’re not doing and saying as they’re told. The government here is kind of like a bad parent who criticizes instead of figuring out another approach, like maybe lifting people up and inspiring them, giving them hope by figuring out what needs to change to help the millennial generation. Calls for the premier to apologize resulted in him broadcasting from his desk, giving an absolute no. He will not apologize even though the restaurant owner did. Not our leader! That kind of arrogance will only backfire on him. If you screw up, apologize. I have far more respect for someone who makes a mistake and actually apologizes than I do for someone who refuses.

With the announcement of a midnight shutdown again, my first thought was of my daughter and my son and how this will affect them. I booked a table at a local restaurant for that night, making a reservation because I had a feeling it might be busy. That was an understatement. Apparently, the locals were of the same mindset as me, as there was a really long lineup when we arrived. It was kind of like a last supper, a way to support an industry that is drowning and trying to stay afloat. We went out to support those workers, those waitstaff, the millennials who will suddenly be out of a job. At least this was a way of giving some extra tip and gratuity money to them. But it was there in the sadness in their faces, that financial insecurity. Despite the mental stress alone, especially for that age group, I don’t think I’ve heard one leader yet say that the government will do something to help the young people. The challenges they face are far different from the challenges of the older generation, who have financial security.

There are young people who aren’t going to have a high school graduation, who don’t know whether they’ll have a job tomorrow, who won’t be able to pay their rent and keep a roof over their head, who work on the front line while raising young kids, getting out of bed in the morning wondering how they’ll make it. This is a generation that has been isolated from their friends and barred from having a social life. I don’t know, but as I listen to these arbitrary lockdown decisions, I have to wonder, if every young person decided not to show up for work tomorrow, what would be left open for the older generation?


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The Monday Blog

NEW RELEASE AUDIOBOOK & Grab these Wednesday bargains!

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The Monday Blog

Do you ever feel as if you’re putting your life on hold?

Spring is here again, and in some parts of the country it’s that time of year when people start thinking about holidays, seeing family, maybe traveling, having a getaway. It seems as if everything has been at a standstill for so long, and life has become about working from home all the time, because what else is there to do?

Here we are, a year later, still in a pandemic, being told not to travel. We’re to stay home, stick to our bubble, so we stay close to home even though we would really like to see family we haven’t seen in a long time. I haven’t had my friends over for dinner or been to their places, let alone traveled with anyone. I’m starting to understand why so many people have hit that wall, feeling restricted. We were never meant to live in isolation. We need our friends and family to hug, to visit with. It’s what makes us human.

One of my sons is currently working three jobs, as one of the things we’ve discovered is that more and more businesses are hiring only part-time workers as of late, working around the employment standards to avoid paying overtime and benefits. Now, he works all the time, including nights. I’ve stopped counting the hours he works, likely fifty to sixty a week. You would think he would be making a decent wage, but minimum wage on part-time jobs with no benefits isn’t a living wage. Will he ever be able to find a place of his own to buy? Not in this part of the world. Unfortunately, he has been priced out of the market. We sat down and had that talk again the other day. In addition, working that many hours leaves no time for a social life. Even though having a social life is now frowned upon, with the current shutdowns and limits on social gatherings, it’s necessary to maintain one’s mental health.

Did we expect to still be in a pandemic? I don’t have a crystal ball, but when you start to understand the mental stress this is putting on the younger population, is it any wonder that with social isolation, job losses, and economic shutdowns that affect some and not others, we’re hearing of an alarming rise in suicides? My son follows politics and the news, including behind-the-scenes stuff, so when we were out the other day, he brought me up to speed on what’s going on in this country, in the US, and overseas. Good for him. When he said they’re currently counting suicides with COVID fatalities, my response was “There’s no way! You’re watching some fake news site.” But sure enough, he was right. He even forwarded me a link.

My jaw dropped, and I was speechless for a moment. I’m still wondering why. I asked my son how that was possible, and he just shrugged. I’m thankful my son still has his head screwed on straight, considering the social isolation. He should be dating, but you can’t do that anymore, right? He can’t go on a holiday with friends, go to a backyard barbecue, do the social bonding thing that young people especially need. But he doesn’t sit around. Instead, he works. I told him I’m not sure how long he can keep working long hours at three different jobs, but he’s a trooper. He keeps going.

My daughter, who is also working every day outside school, pointed out that when she graduates in June, it will be the social aspect of school that she thrives on and will miss. She has said it to me many times: “I need to be around people.” Zoom and online lessons don’t cut it. It’s a great way to work, mind you, and many have discovered that they don’t have to live in a tiny

apartment in a crazy busy city anymore because they can now work from anywhere. But that doesn’t and can’t ever replace human contact.

I know in some parts of the world, people have found ways to travel, to see friends, and some are ignoring whatever orders are in place. But that isn’t happening for everyone. As far as the upcoming summer, do you feel as if you’ve put your life on hold, or are you able to pivot and come at it from a different direction? Maybe you’ve found a bigger place, with more outdoor space, and what about seeing family? I know my kids are from the new generation, just starting their lives. For them, life’s not just a matter of getting a job, buying a house, and getting married. We seem to be in different times, and to navigate this new way of life, they’re going to have to think outside the box.


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****

If you want another page-turning mystery to add to your TBR pile, you can enter to win my book NOTHING AS IT SEEMS on BookSweeps today—plus 30+ exciting Cozy Mysteries from a great collection of authors…
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Audio production is now underway for HOW TO HEAL A HEART, LONG PAST DAWN, ALL ABOUT DEVON and THE VISITOR.  Stay tuned!


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The Monday Blog

It’s the FREE Friday Read.

Happy Friday!  To kick off the weekend, I’ve got a FREE Friessens short story that is not published anywhere and follows new release KEEP ME IN YOUR HEART.  Plus, don’t forget to vote for your favorite audio title for your chance to win the new Kindle Paperwhite with Audible, and also be sure to grab some free audio codes.  Have a wonderful weekend & be well– Lorhainne

“I have missed the Friessens so much, but, oh, what a way for them to return…The emotions are so real that there are moments that literally tear at your heart…This is one that will have your heart racing at times and keep you completely involved from start to finish. ” ★★★★★ Catlou., Amazon Reviewer

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Chapter 1

The phone was ringing. Sara reached over, and there was Devon beside her, the back of his hand resting over his eyes. He didn’t move, so she reached over him for the phone by the bed. The clock read 9:08, and morning light filled the bedroom. 

“Hello…?” Sara’s voice was groggy. Devon rumbled and stirred under her, and his hand slid over her back as she sat up. 

“You’re still sleeping?” 

It took her a moment to realize it was Gabriel. She put her bare feet on the new carpet in their bedroom, wearing just a tank and her underwear, and strode out as Devon rolled over and went back to sleep. 

“Yeah, it’s called being sleep deprived,” she said. 

What time had they gotten home? Right, at dinner time the day before, on what was meant to have been her wedding day. 

“Well, get up,” Gabriel said. “We need you and Devon to come out to the ranch.” 

Sara stepped into the living room, with its blue sectional opposite the kitchen island and high bar stools with cloth backs. She reached for a fleece blanket tossed over a gray cloth side chair and pulled it around herself. 

“Why, what’s going on?” she said. “Devon is still sleeping…” 

But then she saw him in the doorway, wearing a pair of sweats, yawning as he walked into the kitchen, reached for the empty coffeepot, and turned on the tap. 

“Who is it?” he said. 

She let the receiver slide away from her mouth. “Gabriel. He wants us to come out to the ranch.” She thought she heard something in the background over the phone. “Look, Gabriel, maybe tomorrow. Seriously, Devon and I kind of have plans today. Not to mention we just flew back from a shitstorm, so I kind of need a day to decompress.” 

Devon looked over to her as he left the coffee to brew. On the plane home, they had decided they would go to the courthouse that day, just him and her, to become mister and missus, and they weren’t telling anyone. 

“Well, cancel your plans,” Gabriel said. He was serious. “This isn’t the time to hide out and lick your wounds. We’re a family. Come over in, say, an hour.” 

She shook her head, watching Devon yawn again as he leaned against the counter by the sink, his arms crossed over his bare chest. “You know, Gabriel, if this were any other time, I’d say okay—but no, I’m not canceling. As I said, Devon and I have plans today. What’s so urgent, anyway? Is something going on? Is it Mom and Dad?” 

She knew her parents were both reeling over what had happened in Boston. Yes, Chelsea was alive, but she wasn’t with them. Sara still didn’t know how to come to grips with the entire ordeal. 

“We’ll tell you when you get here,” Gabriel said. “I’m not kidding, Sara. Whatever you and Devon decided to do today, change your plans.” There he went again. 

“Gabriel, what part of ‘we’re not coming’ do you not understand? We’re not rescheduling our day. Our plans are important.” 

Devon walked over, evidently picking up on the fact that something was going on. He reached for the phone with a frown. “Let me talk to him.” 

She hesitated only a second. “Devon wants to talk to you,” she said, then could hear her brother saying something as she handed the phone to him. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Devon said. That was all he asked, seriously? “Uh-huh. Yup,” he continued. 

Sara walked over to the counter, where she could smell the coffee brewing, and pulled the blanket up higher around herself. 

“Okay, sure,” Devon said. Then he hung up and tossed the phone on the island. Sara just stared as he opened a cupboard, pulled out a glass, and filled it with water from the large refrigerator dispenser. 

“What was that?” She rested her hand on the counter. 

Devon downed the glass of water, then opened the dishwasher and shoved it on the top rack. “We’re going out to the ranch,” he said. 

She stared at him. He pulled two mugs from the cupboard and reached for the pot of coffee, which was still filling, but she slapped her hand over the carafe so he couldn’t pull it out. He sighed. 

“Why?” she said. “I just told Gabriel no. Did you forget our plans today? The courthouse, remember? No more family disruptions. This time, you and I are selfishly putting ourselves first. Or have you changed your mind?” She wondered whether she’d growled the last part. She was tired and still feeling battered and bruised as if her body and mind had been put through the wringer. 

Devon let out a sigh and leaned down and kissed her. “I didn’t forget, Sara. We have time. Look, your brother said it’s important and can’t wait. No biggy. We’ll drive out. Your dad likely wants to count his chicks and make sure you’re all here. I know he and your mom were kind of messed up by what happened. Give them that, okay? Your brothers weren’t there and didn’t get the first-hand shitshow, so we’ll go, talk, hug it out, whatever they need, and then we’ll be at the courthouse by two.” 

He’d somehow wrangled the coffeepot and filled two mugs and was now sliding the carafe back onto the burner. She was still stuck on this idea of hugging it out, something he had never seemed inclined to do before. 

“I’m going to grab a shower,” he said, already walking with his coffee. She stared at his back and then glanced to the phone, wondering what exactly her brother had said. 

“Uh, Devon, you do realize this is my family we’re talking about. If this is a matter of my mom and dad gathering what’s left of their flock, as you say, then it’s going to require a little more than us slipping in and out. And when we leave, they’ll ask where we’re going. Remember that we aren’t telling anyone? We were going to tell my family after.” 

He was staring at her from the door of their master suite, a highlight of their three-bedroom house in town. “Sara, you’re making too much of it. And why would they ask if you don’t bring it up?” He raised a brow and gestured to her. “Are you going to stand there or join me in the shower? The sooner we get out there, the sooner we’re back in town and at the courthouse.” 

Then he was gone. 

She took a swallow of coffee and started after him, calling out, “You do realize this is my family! There’s no such thing as going out there and coming right back.” 

But instead of an answer, all she could hear was the shower running. She took in her engagement ring, wondering why it was that their wedding seemed to always be just out of reach. 

Chapter 2 

Sara took in all the cars, the pickups parked out front of her parents’ ranch house. It seemed everyone was there. 

As Devon parked their newish gray four-door compact and turned off the engine, Sara glanced over to him. He had said very little to her, and she sensed he was taking this order to attend the ranch far too lightly. She had thrown on blue jeans and a loose gray top that fit her mood. 

“You still believe we’re going to be in and out?” she said. 

He shrugged and smiled. “Don’t worry. I told you we’re getting married today. End of story. Come on, let’s go. The quicker we get in there and do the talking thing, the quicker we can leave.” 

She stared at Devon as she stepped out of the vehicle. She couldn’t get past the way he was talking. For a moment, she wondered whether she was hearing things. She realized he was already walking to the house as she pushed her door closed. 

“You know, Devon, at any other time, this eagerness to see my family would be cute, but right now it seems kind of weird,” she said. She heard the rattle of another car approaching, and she turned at the bottom of the steps to the house, seeing Anton pulling up just as the screen door squeaked open behind her. “Isn’t that your brother?” 

“Huh,” Devon said. “Yeah. Wonder what he’s doing here.” 

Her dad had walked out onto the porch, wearing blue jeans and a red T-shirt, and he smiled at her. She made herself walk up the steps and hug him. He squeezed tight. 

“Okay, you can let go now,” she said. “I’m fine, as you can see.” 

“I know,” he said. “Hey, listen, thanks for coming out. You doing okay?” 

What was she supposed to say to that? The events of the past few days had basically derailed her family and her wedding. 

“I’m fine,” she said, “or I will be. So who’s here?” 

Her dad still had his arm around her, and she took in Devon walking over to his mom and brother as they stepped out of the car. 

“Uh, what’s going on?” Sara said. 

The door squeaked again, and her dad’s arm fell away as Jeremy stepped out. He and Chelsea were twins, close. She wondered where his head was amid all this. 

“Wanted to have a word with you,” he said. 

She realized he was still holding the door open. To say this was weird would have been an understatement. In the meantime, her dad had walked down the stairs, over to Devon, his mom, and Anton. 

“Sure,” Sara said. “This is starting to seem mysterious.” 

She strode into the house, where her mom was rocking CC, a bottle in his mouth, and Gabriel was walking out of the kitchen with a coffee. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. 

“Hey, you,” he said. 

She realized Tiffy and Elizabeth were in the living room, and she spotted Zac, Brandon, and Shaunty in the kitchen, eating and making something. She turned back to Jeremy, who was quiet, holding a sheet of paper. 

“So what is this?” she said. “I’m here. Jeremy, you want to talk to me?” She sat on the sofa beside Tiffy, who patted her leg. 

“Well, we were all talking last night…” Jeremy started. She heard voices and the squeak of the door. 

“About what? You know I’m tired. The last few days have been exhausting. Is this about Chelsea?” She glanced toward her mom, whose lingering sadness she could still see. 

Jeremy was looking oddly at the folded piece of paper he held. “Yes and no,” he said. “It’s about you. Look, we’re all still trying to get our heads around what happened. You should know that I spoke with Chelsea after she left you in Boston. She called me. I don’t know where she was, but I talked to her before Dad called and told us what happened. You should know I asked her to come home, but she won’t leave Ric. She’s convinced this won’t be forever, just until after his dad talks to the grand jury and this guy in the military is charged. She wrote something and emailed it to me, something to give to you.” 

He was holding the paper out toward her. Tiera, Anton, Devon, and her dad were standing just inside the living room. She didn’t reach for it. She could feel her stomach tightening. When she finally reached out and took it, she didn’t pull her gaze from her brother. Maybe it was the way everyone was looking at her, but she felt like the center of attention for the first time, and it made her feel so uncomfortable. 

“Chelsea feels horrible for what happened,” Jeremy said. “She wanted to make it up to you, considering you and Devon have postponed your wedding so many times.” 

She glanced over to Devon, feeling the words about the courthouse today on the tip of her tongue. He said nothing, only raised a brow in curiosity. 

“Okay…” 

“You’re getting married today,” Jeremy said. 

Sara dragged her gaze to Devon. “You told them?” she said. She knew it sounded accusing. 

But Devon simply looked to her brother and shook his head. “No, I said nothing.” 

“Wait,” Jeremy said. “I’m confused. There’s a limo arriving in two hours. Chelsea rearranged your wedding to happen today. I don’t know how she did it, but she hired some wedding planning team who’ve somehow managed to rebook the church and the resort and get all the guests back here. I don’t know what it cost, but apparently she took care of it.” 

Sara wasn’t sure whether her shock showed in her expression. 

“So what are you two talking about? You were getting married today?” Gabriel said, looking from her to Devon. For a second, she couldn’t help but feel guilty. 

“Yeah,” Devon said, cutting in for her. “Listen, it doesn’t matter now, but we were planning on just going to City Hall, as we were starting to believe this big wedding was doomed.” 

“What? No,” Gabriel said. Then everyone was talking at once. 

She took in the email her brother had given her. Everything was there, her dress, her makeup…but not her sister. 

“You were really going to go to City Hall and not tell us?” Laura said. 

Sara could see the hurt in her expression. She looked down at the letter. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Mom. I just didn’t want to go back to the drawing board, having to pick another date and start planning again…” 

“But you don’t have to, because you’re getting married today,” Tiffy said, then slid her arm around Sara’s shoulders. “Since Chelsea isn’t here, Elizabeth and I were talking, and we’d like to stand in for her.” 

Sara felt tears burn and had to clear her throat roughly. 

“If you want us, that is?” Elizabeth said. 

“Of course I do,” she said. “Thank you. I can’t believe Chelsea did this…” 

She heard a vehicle out front, and Devon stepped back, an odd look on his face. Her dad walked over to the door and opened it, and she didn’t know who he was talking to. 

“Chelsea sent someone to do your hair and nails, pamper you,” Elizabeth said, looking past her out the window. “That has to be her.” 

Sara just looked at her family. For a moment, she was hit with a wave of guilt. They would have been hurt if she and Devon had gone alone to the courthouse. “Okay, I’ll say it,” she said. “I’m glad we didn’t go to the courthouse. I really do want all of you there.” 

Tiffy ran her hand over her shoulder, and Laura stood and slid a sleeping CC into Gabriel’s arms, then let her gaze linger on Sara. Then there was her dad, who had been unusually quiet. All he did was nod, and she could see how the past few days had rattled him. 

Devon pulled his arms across his chest. “Then I guess I’m not supposed to be here,” he said, “because I need to go home and pull out that tux.” 

There was something about this moment. She stood up, hearing the laughter of her family, of Tiera talking with Elizabeth and Anton with her dad, and she strode across the room to Devon, still holding the letter her sister had written. Two ladies she’d never seen before, hairdressers, were being ushered into the dining room by Tiffy and her mom. 

“I still can’t believe Chelsea did this,” Sara said as Devon pulled her off to the side. She just held his hand and stared down at the letter, scared to read it. 

Maybe he knew, as he pulled her into his arms and hugged her, then kissed the side of her head and pulled back. “Go get that hot number of a dress on, and I’ll be the guy at the front of the church, waiting for you,” he said. 

She pulled back just a bit, looking up at him. “Don’t be late.” 

He leaned down and kissed her, then rested his hand over hers, the one holding the letter. “She really does love you, you know.” 

She only nodded at first, feeling a lump in her throat. “Yeah,” she finally said. “I know.” 

He pressed another kiss to her lips, and then she watched as the man she loved so much walked to the door with his brother, Anton, past the jabs from her brothers and her dad, laughing. 

She felt a hand on her arm and turned to see Tiera, whom Elizabeth had left to tend to CC, who had decided to start fussing and crying. 

“How are you doing, Sara?” she said. “I wanted to talk with you before you and Devon get married.” 

Sara forced a smile. She could see Tiera was a little uncomfortable by the way she pulled her arms across her chest, then let them fall away. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said, reaching over and touching her arm. 

“I didn’t want to intrude, but Gabriel called me and Anton when everything was going on in Boston. He told us what was happening there. I’m sorry. That was a horrible thing that happened to you, but it was also the first time I really felt part of this family. I told Gabriel how much I appreciated knowing what was happening. There was nothing Anton and I could do, but we were happy your sister wasn’t hurt.” 

She didn’t know her brother had done that. She took in Tiera’s chestnut eyes, like Anton’s but not so much like Devon’s. “I’m glad Gabriel did that.” 

“You have a wonderful family,” Tiera said. 

Sara nodded. “I do. I really want to get to know you, Tiera. You and Anton are part of this family.” 

She wasn’t sure what to make of the way Devon’s mom looked at her, then past her. “You’d better get going,” she said. “You’ve got some ladies here to fuss over you.” 

Sara only nodded, then stepped closer and hugged Tiera. She kissed her cheek and stepped back. “In case I haven’t told you this before,” she said, “thank you for having Devon.” 

Chapter 3 

The silky taffeta of the white dress touched the floor, its cap sleeves off her shoulders. Her hair was up, pinned with flowers and a veil that draped behind her. She felt like a princess as she sat in the back room of the church, surrounded by reds and golds, seeing herself in the full-length mirror. 

Tiffy and Elizabeth had stepped out, and she was alone with a letter she hadn’t been able to read. She knew she had to do it before she left this room and started a new chapter in her life. 

She opened the small clutch purse she’d brought, which held lipstick, the ring engraved with hers and Devon’s initials, and her sister’s letter, the email she had sent to Jeremy. 

She unfolded it and took in the subject line: My little sister, please forgive me. 

She made herself pull in a breath as she fought the ache, knowing her sister wasn’t there. 

Dear Sara, 

I told you I love you, and I hope you and Devon can take some measure of joy in today and accept this gift of your wedding. It’s a day late, but at least your day is here. I wish I could turn back the clock and undo what happened. But I can’t do that, so I’ve moved a mountain for you. That, at least, is something I learned from Dad

She lifted her other hand to her mouth, unable to help the laugh that hiccupped out despite the tears she had to keep blinking back. 

I wish I could be there, but I can’t. It’s about more than the fact that I’m married to Ric. We’ve had our troubles, but I really love him, just as I know you love Devon and would go to the ends of the earth with him. Well, I have to go there with Ric now. He didn’t ask for this, and he even tried to urge me to go home and walk away. But if the roles were reversed and it were Devon, could you walk away from him? 

“No. You already know that, Chelsea,” she said out loud, wishing her sister were there. 

I just wanted you to understand, because I know you were so angry today when I saw you. And I don’t blame you. Just know that I’m always thinking of all of you. Please keep me in your heart, and before you know it, I will see you again. I love you, all of you. 

Chelsea Friessen-Taft. 

That brought a smile to her face. So Chelsea hadn’t dropped the Friessen name, after all. 

Just then, there was a knock on the door. 

“Come in,” she said. 

It opened to reveal her dad: tall, solid, looking absolutely dashing in his dark suit. “You look beautiful. You ready?” he said as he walked in. She could see Tiffy and Elizabeth in two matching green dresses in the hall behind him, looking beautiful, as well. 

“I am. You okay, Dad?” she said. 

He rested his hands on her shoulders, and she could see the mist in his eyes again. “Seeing you like this, I am okay. You know how much I like Devon. He’s family. But, Sara, just let me be clear: If you two have plans of moving…” 

“Dad.” She pressed her hand to her dad’s chest, taking in the way he looked down at her with the love he had for all of them. “Devon and I are not going anywhere. So how about you walk me down the aisle?” 

She heard a tap on the open door, and Tiffy poked her head in. “Everyone’s ready,” she said. 

Sara looked up to her dad, who stood beside her and held out an arm to her, and Elizabeth strode in with a bouquet of white and pink roses for her. Sara tucked the letter in the pocket of her dress, took the bouquet, and slid her hand over her dad’s arm. 

Andy nodded to Tiffy, and the music started up. He looked down at her and smiled. “I’ve waited forever for this moment,” he said. 

“Me too, Dad,” she replied. “Me too.” 


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The Monday Blog

A peek into my life

I’m taking a little sidestep away from my regular blog to let you all have a peek into my life, my career, and what it takes to earn a living wage as an author. There are so many misconceptions out there about being an author, and it may surprise you to know that very few authors are able to quit their day jobs and make a full-time living by writing books.

Why is that? If you talk to the authors who are making a full-time income, which I am, what we all will tell you is that you have to work your butt off to stay front and center with your fans in a market that’s now oversaturated. Our fans, just like us, are inundated with social media, newsletters, and distractions, but as authors, we have to always be on the cusp and keep up with an ever-changing industry. What worked two months ago to sell books doesn’t work today, and one of the most daunting things for authors who love to write is learning the business side of writing. That means it’s up to an author to market their books and make social media their best friend, which can take more time than actually writing a book. 

I’ve been doing this for a number of years, and what it takes for me to write a book is three weeks with no disruptions. Did you like that phrase? I’m going to say it again: NO DISRUPTIONS! Are you laughing yet? You should be, because this is the one area where I had to become seriously direct with a good many people. No disruptions is key, but let me tell you, it’s the one concept many don’t seem to get. One of the things that has been an ongoing issue is the fact that I work from home, and therefore others seem to believe I am accessible. Now, some of you may understand this if you work for yourself and work from home. Many people believe that if you work from home, you’re not really working and are available to drop anything at a moment’s notice. Not true! If you look at someone who has a nine-to-five job, whatever or wherever it is, this same notion doesn’t apply. You wouldn’t consider walking into someone’s office and interrupting them when they’re in the middle of a meeting to ask for something. Why? Great question! This is why I’ve had to be very direct about my writing time.

My working time starts the moment I get out of bed. With three kids, I’ve had to schedule what I do around them, but for others in the community, I’ve been very clear: I work during the day, seven days a week, and I’m not available. My cell phone is never on unless I leave the island, so those people who are into texting know I’ll never respond. I don’t text even though it has become the main source of communication for everyone. I never got on board. My emails and notifications are turned off when I’m writing. I take time in the afternoon to check my email, but never in the morning unless I’m in the middle of a major promotion—which, yes, I run a few every month. Mornings are my most productive time, when I can accomplish far more than at any other point of the day. Do I multitask? No, because multitasking is not an asset. It means you’re doing too many things and are not at your best.

What’s key now is that an author has to put out books, and you have to continue to market your backlist titles or they’ll die a slow death. Unless you’re writing a book a month or at least every two, you’re going to find your income drying up. It’s a frightening thing for many authors who at one time made a really decent income, so much so that now, many are finding they have to write more, put out more books, to make what they were two or three years ago.

So how do you go about protecting your writing time, protecting your working time? You need to dial it in, focus, and eliminate all distractions, because distractions of any kind are the death of a writer.

It’s just one of those things. You have to learn to be direct and say, “Fix it right the first time, because I’m working. I’m writing.” Schedule your appointments for after you finish your book, not during the day, and never during your writing time. Shut your phone off, your email, your social media notifications. Get your daily word count done, and then focus on your marketing, on selling your books. If you have an assistant, you still need to make sure they get the media kit and all the information for the books on sale that week, your new releases, and your ads. Most importantly, still make time for your family.

Do I love what I do? Absolutely, without a doubt. I love being a writer, and once you learn to say no to people and develop really strong boundaries to protect your writing time, your working time, you’ll find you’re able to accomplish far more.

What’s coming next? March 31 is release day for the newest Friessen book. KEEP ME IN YOUR HEART, and it’s going to be good! A Friessen family celebration turns tragic when the marriage of one daughter is preceded by the heartbreaking loss of another.

“I have missed the Friessens so much, but, oh, what a way for them to return. What should be a joyous occasion turns into a nightmare, one that could mean the loss of one of their own – possibly forever.” Catlou


$2.99 Sale

“This one is a tearjerker so grab your tissues. Lots of questions as answered with some twists and turns. What a great read!” ★★★★★ B.E., Amazon Reviewer

The Fallen O’Connell

The Fallen O’Connell

NY Times & USA Today bestselling author Lorhainne Eckhart brings you The Fallen O’Connell, Now over eighteen years later, the truth about Raymond O’Connell has been revealed, and it has come at a cost. That cost is measured by the loss of life, the loss of innocence and the loss of what could have been.”

More info →

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Contest ends April 12, 2021 at 3:00 a.m. PST.  Good luck!
 

****

If you want another page-turning mystery to add to your TBR pile, you can enter to win my book NOTHING AS IT SEEMS on BookSweeps today—plus 30+ exciting Cozy Mysteries from a great collection of authors…
AND a brand new eReader.  Contest ends April 7, 2021.


**Audio Production now underway for THE QUIET DAY, THE SECRET HUSBAND, THE MISSING FATHER and JUSTICE! Stay tuned!**


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The Monday Blog

Read the first 2 chapters of the next Friessens novel!

Can’t wait till release day?  A new Friessens novel is on the way, but it’s Preview Friday and you can grab a sneak peek of KEEP ME IN YOUR HEART right here!

Chapter 1

As she opened her eyes, the first thing Sara saw were the soft green walls of the bedroom she had grown up in. She and Devon were finally getting married.

She rolled over to where he should have been sleeping and touched the empty spot in her double bed. The light of the morning sun filled her bedroom, and she listened to the sounds of the house, likely her mom, her dad, or maybe Zac. She rolled from bed and let her bare feet hit the cold wood floor.

Wearing one of Devon’s black T-shirts, she opened the top drawer of her dresser and grabbed a pair of fluffy blue socks, then sat on the bed and slipped them on along with her light blue housecoat.

When she opened the door, noting how light it was, she yawned and pulled at the sash at her waist, hearing voices from the kitchen and the cry of a baby. She flicked back her long blond hair, which was a tangled mess.

“Hey, was wondering what time you were getting up,” said her mom, holding her six-week-old nephew, wearing a flowered peach housecoat. Laura was so good with the baby. The digital clock over the old electric stove said it was only ten after eight, hardly late in the morning.

“Where is everyone?” Sara said. “Didn’t know CC was here.”

Her mom made a face at the baby, who was still fussing, and Sara spotted a bottle heating in a bowl of hot water. “Gabriel brought the baby and Shaunty with him. He’s out with your dad, checking on the herd, and Shaunty is learning how to be a cowgirl. Zac is with them, too. Gabriel said Elizabeth is exhausted. She’s been up with little CC almost every night. He’s colicky—a screamer, as he calls him—and is quiet only if she walks the floor with him. So I have the baby, and Elizabeth is hopefully getting some much-needed sleep so she’s not falling over at dinner tonight.”

Sara winced as she reached for the coffee pot and poured one for herself. She glanced to her mom, who gave the baby a bottle and let him greedily suck away as if he hadn’t eaten yet. The baby had Elizabeth’s bold eyes and shocking dark hair, a lot of hair, but Gabriel’s nose and mouth. He was so fussy that it seemed all he ever did was cry and scream.

“You want a coffee, Mom?” Sara held up the pot, taking in the way her mom was looking at her grandson, Gabriel’s son, the miracle baby that he hadn’t believed would be possible. She’d never seen her brother so happy, though she knew Elizabeth hadn’t had the easiest of pregnancies.

“You need to ask?” Laura said. “Of course. Pour me one and bring it in the living room, and then let’s talk about the wedding and what else there is to do. You have to be excited.”

She followed her mom into the living room, carrying the mugs of coffee, and set one on the side table beside the rocker her mom sat down in. Her mom smiled as she lifted her gaze to her, and Sara took in the view of the front of her parents’ property through the window, the round ring where she’d learned to ride. She was living at home in the days before the wedding because her dad had insisted.

“You sleep okay?” Laura said. “You seem pretty quiet.”

She only shrugged as she sat on the sofa, curling her bare legs beside her and pulling at her long house coat. “I just woke up, Mom, and haven’t had my coffee yet.” She lifted her mug, struck by the lack of noise out there, no traffic, no city life, the kind of noise she was used to, living with Devon at their new house in Columbia Falls, where he was now.

“I’d be better if I were at home, where I should be, with Devon,” Sara said. “But oh, wait, Dad suddenly wants me, a grown woman, under his roof for the last few nights before I get married in some ridiculous effort to protect my reputation, or is it my virtue? Hate to tell you that both are shot to hell. Devon and I have been living together for two years now, sleeping together, and…”

Her mom didn’t try to hide a soft laugh. “Don’t be too hard on your dad. It’s his way of trying to hold on to his little girl for a couple more nights. He wants you here before he officially walks you down that aisle and you say ‘I do’ to Devon, becoming mister and missus. Just give him that, okay? With Chelsea gone with Ric in Boston, it’s been hard on your dad.

“Anyway, we have too much to do today,” she continued. “The wedding, remember? The church is a go, and your dad forked out for the dining room at the resort. It’s the first time it’s been closed to the public. You still need to talk to the hostess today to confirm the plates and the final count. Pretty sure we’re at over two hundred guests now. Tiffy said she’d pick up your dress this morning in town, and the flowers are arranged, and tonight is the family dinner. With Chelsea and Ric flying in, it’s going to be chaotic. You should know that your dad wanted to bring in a caterer for tonight, too.” Her mom’s lips quirked. Evidently, she was having some amusement at her dad’s expense.

“Dinner tonight is being catered?” She lifted her coffee, took a swallow, and wondered what more craziness was going to happen.

“You’ll be happy to know I put my foot down,” Laura said. “A bunch of strangers won’t be taking over the kitchen. We’ll be doing dinner ourselves. Tiffy is making the salads, and I have a lasagna in the fridge to go in the oven later, along with chicken and ribs. Everyone will pitch in—except for Elizabeth. When she gets here later, I think she’ll get the night off. Jeremy and your dad are picking up Chelsea and Ric at the airport. It’ll be great, having her here…”

She heard a car door close and turned to see Anton, Devon’s brother, behind the wheel of his older Corolla. The engine was loud and idling. Devon’s mother stepped out from the passenger side.

“Who’s here?” Laura said from where she rocked CC, who was now fast asleep, the bottle still in his mouth, making loud sucking noises.

“It’s Tiera,” Sara said. “Didn’t know she was coming…”

All her mom did was nod. “Yeah, sorry, forgot to tell you your dad mentioned it this morning. Apparently, he spoke with Devon when you were still asleep, and Devon said something about his mom feeling left out. So your dad, being your dad, said…”

“Let me guess, that he should bring her out to the ranch. But to do what? I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do or say. I don’t know her. See how uncomfortable she looks?”

There was just something about Devon’s mom. The first time Sara had met her, Tiera had been in prison, and she didn’t think that image would ever leave. But her dad never left anyone out. Sara was already standing, taking another look at Tiera. Her very short dark hair was curled tight, and she wore blue jeans and a cardigan, holding a plate.

Laura angled her head. “How about if she’s just here with us? We’ll go over everything about the wedding, the day, what it will look like, and figure out whether there are any last-minute hurdles to handle. She’s Devon’s mother, Sara. She wants to get to know you. She’s trying. We need to make her feel that she’s part of this family.”

Her mom stood up, and Sara took one last look outside, seeing Anton now driving away. Hadn’t he called her a spoiled princess not long ago, this time last year? Apparently, the coolness

would continue. It seemed her dad and her fiancé hadn’t bothered to fill her in about Tiera. She didn’t know why she felt so uncomfortable around Devon’s mom.

She heard Tiera on the stairs, and Laura followed her to the door.

“Hi,” Sara called out. “Just heard you were coming. I’m just on coffee and haven’t had time to get dressed.”

Tiera juggled the plate as she held the door open and stepped inside. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come so early,” she said. “Here, I made some of my brownies. I know Devon loves them.”

Sara took in the plate of brownies covered in plastic wrap, wondering when Devon had told her that. She knew he hated chocolate.

“It’s never too early for us,” Laura said. “We’re just not dressed yet. But I do love brownies! Do you want coffee?” She handed Sara the baby, who was sleeping, but by the expression on his face, she wondered whether he’d start howling again any minute. His face scrunched, so she moved.

“Sure, would love some,” Tiera said.

Sara took in her face. She could see how much Anton resembled her, her dark eyes, but she didn’t see anything of Devon. She forced a smile to her face and started moving back and forth, the only way to keep CC quiet.

“So who does this baby belong to?” Tiera said. Right, her only conversations with Devon had been when Sara wasn’t there.

“My big brother, Gabriel,” Sara said.

Tiera followed her mom into the kitchen, but Sara lingered behind, taking in the way Tiera looked around. She was both more slender and taller than she remembered. She didn’t have a clue what to say to fill the silence.

“So when is Devon coming?” Tiera asked.

Sara found herself looking over to her mom, who was handing Tiera a mug of coffee. “I haven’t talked to Devon this morning,” she said. “Mom, you said Dad talked to him?” She could feel Tiera watching her, and she couldn’t help wondering whether Anton had shared his dislike of her. Maybe that was why she was feeling so uneasy.

“He called at dawn, some time after six,” Laura said. “He’s at the office, wrapping up loose ends on a case, but he’ll be here for dinner. You can ask your dad for more details when he rides back. But in the meantime, I’m going to get dressed. Sara, you keep rocking that baby so he doesn’t burst our eardrums with his screaming, and maybe you can fill Tiera in on what still needs to be done.”

Then what did her mom do but walk out of the kitchen?

Sara was very aware of her bed hair, the robe that stopped just past her knees, and the fact that she was holding her brother’s very unpredictable, cranky, and colicky baby. Tiera seemed as tense as she was.

“So…” she started, wishing…what? That Devon were there. That she didn’t feel as if Tiera hated her like Anton did.

“Your mom is nice,” Tiera said.

Great, a safe subject.

She could feel CC tensing the moment he was about to let out a howl. “Oh no, no you don’t,” she said, but the baby started wailing. Sara patted his bottom and moved and swayed. Could anything have made the moment worse? “So sorry about this. He’s my brother’s baby, Conner. He’s colicky, so we call him CC, short for Cranky Conner. He screams and howls if you don’t keep moving. Hey, please, please stop.”

But the baby kept crying, his little fists flailing. Then dark hands appeared in front of her.

“Here, let me,” Tiera said. “It’s been a long time since I held a baby. Anton used to carry on something like that. I can do that much, and you can get dressed.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. Tiera’s dark eyes didn’t look away, and she didn’t smile, but Sara realized she could be reading way too much into that. “You know what? I think I will take you up on that. Thank you. He’s…” She slid the baby over to Tiera, who took him and held him up, patting his back over her shoulder. “Thank you, thank you…”

He was still crying, wailing, as Sara backed away, holding her hands together. She had taken one step before Tiera glanced up from murmuring at CC and looked over to her.

“Sara, I’m trying to find a place for myself in my son’s life,” she said.

There it was, the awkwardness. For a moment, she wondered if a hint of blame was being directed at her.

“I would never stand in your way,” she said.

Tiera nodded and swayed. CC’s howl was now a whimper. Sara wished her mother hadn’t taken off when she did. Laura Friessen just had a way about her, able to smooth over these awkward moments.

“Maybe so, Sara,” Tiera said. “But Devon loves you. He’s marrying you. He’s all about you.”

She only nodded, wondering whether Tiera even wanted to get to know her. Again, she couldn’t help feeling left out. Maybe this was Tiera’s way of saying she could never come between a mother and her son.

“He is, and I love him,” Sara said. “We’re getting married, and you’re his mother, so that makes us family.”

Tiera didn’t add anything else. Seconds ticked by, and the knot in Sara’s stomach twisted just a bit.

She lifted her hand over her shoulder. “I’m going to grab a quick shower and get dressed. You okay here with CC?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Tiera said.

Sara only nodded, and before Devon’s mom could add anything else, she hurried away down the hall, knowing that the next conversation she needed to have was with Devon about where exactly his mom fit, where she fit, and what he needed to do so she wouldn’t feel like an outsider looking in.

Chapter 2

Andy stared at the flight numbers for the planes that had landed, waiting at the gate. The airport was busy all year round, and he searched out the faces of people stepping out, counting the seconds until he saw his daughter’s sweet face.

It had been two months since the last time she’d flown out to see them. The ache of missing her was likely why he stood with his arms crossed over his chest, feeling the beat of his heart pick up and the dampness down his back. He made himself pull in a breath as he waited for her to come through that door.

“Excited, Dad?” Jeremy said. “When was the last time we were all together in the same place? Now Sara’s wedding is finally happening. How many times did they postpone it? Like, your sure it’s on this time? No more…what did Sara call it, pushing back the date?”

Sometimes Jeremy talked way too much, but Andy knew it was just something he did when he was excited or anxious and needed to settle himself down. Jeremy was looking more and more like him every day, his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans, his dark hair short and freshly cut. Andy was just thankful his son hadn’t grown up the way he had, hadn’t done the kinds of things Andy wished he could go back in time and undo.

Jeremy shuffled from side to side. He really missed his twin sister.

“There were reasons Sara had to postpone,” Andy said. “You know that. First Devon’s mom got out of prison, and then they needed to find a break in his case load. Then there was that murder trial where he took lead chair, being an overworked public defender. Then CC was born early, and Elizabeth was put on bed rest for the last few months…”

Sara had pushed her wedding back every time there was a crisis in the family. But not this time. She had sacrificed so much for all of them.

“I know that, Dad, but I’m just saying, they could have found a weekend and stood before a judge…”

He knew Jeremy didn’t get it. For Sara, a big wedding was something she wanted, and it was what he wanted for her. He wondered for a moment whether this wedding was more for him than for her, considering his other kids’ ceremonies had been small and intimate, just family.

This was going to be a showstopper.

“Three days, Jeremy, and your sister and Devon will be married and off on their honeymoon. You know what? I’ve been looking forward to this day for a long time because it means having my family here, everyone. You have no idea how excited I am, and your mom, too. This means everything,” he said. “Your sister is taking forever.”

Then no one else was coming through the door.

He looked over the passengers walking to the baggage claim and wondered whether he’d missed them. “You see Chelsea or Ric anywhere? Did they slip past?”

“Ah…” Jeremy said, looking at all the passengers crowding over by baggage claim. He flicked his hand through his hair. “I don’t see them. Maybe they’re last off the plane.”

Andy narrowed his gaze and couldn’t shake his building feeling of unease. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and thumbed through the texts but didn’t see anything.

“Did she send you a text?” Jeremy said, holding his own phone out now.

Andy stared at the door, willing it to open again, but no one came through. He dialed Chelsea’s cell phone and put it to his ear, but it went right to voicemail: “This is Chelsea. If you want to talk to me, leave me a message. I’ll call when I can.”

He shut his eyes, willing his daughter to answer but knowing she likely still had it on airplane mode. “Hey, Chels, it’s your dad. I’m waiting at the airport right outside the door by baggage claim. We watched everyone from your plane come through the door but don’t see you anywhere… Call me back. Let me know if I missed you somewhere.” He hung up and squeezed his phone, seeing Jeremy typing something into his.

“She’s not answering my texts,” Jeremy said without looking over to him.

Andy dragged his gaze around, taking in the metal, dark wood, and concrete of the airport, the ticket booths, the travelers walking both ways. His gaze landed on a kiosk an airline employee was standing behind.

“She probably forgot something on the plane and is last off,” Jeremy said.

“Your sister is never last off anything. I expected her to be first through the door, and not quiet about it. Maybe you’re right, though. You talk to Chelsea before she left this morning?” He started walking, and Jeremy fell in beside him.

“Not for a few days…” Then Jeremy stopped walking. “Actually, scratch that. It’s been more than a few days. A week? Last week. No, it was the day you paid the booking fee for the dining room at the resort. Remember? We stopped for lunch, and…”

“That was three weeks ago. You seriously haven’t talked to your sister in three weeks?” he said. When was it that their calls had become less frequent? “How could you not remember when that was?”

He took in his son, who had decided to take the last year off school, making the career move to take over managing the hardware store. Being a father and husband, he seemed over his head at times. Andy could have stepped in, but as Laura warned, Jeremy had to stand on his own two feet.

“Sorry. Time seems to blend for me as of late, one day into another. Can’t believe it was that long ago. My bad. Maybe she fell asleep on the plane…”

Andy could only wonder, wishing he had talked to Chelsea himself instead of listening to Laura remind him again and again that he had to ease up on his obsessive need to know where his kids were at all times. Maybe that was why he was feeling such a tightness in his chest. He glanced over to the door again as he walked. Still no one else. At which point should he worry? He hadn’t stopped since the moment his kids were born.

“Let’s have them page her,” he said. “She still not text you back?”

Jeremy only made a face, staring at his phone. “Nope, nothing. Sent another text. Her phone’s probably off.”

They strode up to the kiosk, behind which was a woman in a navy suit and white blouse, with a blue and white scarf. “Can I help you?” she said from behind the computer, typing something. She lifted her gaze, offering a smile.

“Yeah, my daughter and her husband were on the flight from Boston that just came in,” Andy said. “Can you tell me if everyone is off the plane?”

The lady only nodded, typing something in. “Sure, let me see. That’s flight number…” She let it hang.

“United 908.” He had it burned into his memory. “Arriving at twelve thirty-five.”

She only nodded. He could see her reading the screen and wished he could see what she was looking at. “Everyone should be off,” she said. “I see it’s getting ready for pre-boarding. What’s the passenger’s name?”

“Chelsea Friessen.”

“Taft,” Jeremy cut in. “It’s Chelsea Taft and Alaric Taft.” He turned to his dad and lowered his voice. “She dropped the Friessen name and took Ric’s. I thought you knew that.”

Why hadn’t he known? He allowed his gaze to linger on Jeremy for a second, suspecting there was a lot Chelsea shared only with him. He’d forgotten how close they could be.

“Okay, Chelsea and Alaric Taft,” the airline clerk said, already typing. “I can see the ticket here, but just hang on a second. By the looks of it, I don’t see either checking in.” She shook her head again. “Let me check something,” she said before picking up the phone and dialing.

Andy leaned against the counter and took in Jeremy, who had his phone to his ear and then was shaking his head.

“Ric’s not answering, either,” he said. “What about Ric’s brother, Morgan?”

The airline clerk hung up the phone, and Andy pushed away from the counter, his hand resting there.

“Sorry, the tickets were purchased, but they were no shows,” she said. “The seats were empty on the flight. They could have missed their flight, but I don’t see them on the next one, either.” She lifted her gaze, typing in the computer again.

“What about a different airline, maybe?”

She was shaking her head. “I’m looking for that, but I don’t see anything here. Nothing is rebooked with their name. You’ll have to get in touch with them. They could have had a change of plans.”

What was he supposed to say to this lady? She didn’t know his daughter. Chelsea wouldn’t just change her plans to attend her sister’s wedding and not call. It didn’t work that way in their family. He tapped the counter, preparing to demand that she…what? Understand exactly what he was thinking, feeling?

“Thank you for checking,” he found himself saying. Then he stepped back, gesturing to his son. “You have Morgan’s number?”

Jeremy thumbed through his phone, shoving his other hand in his jeans pocket. “Right here. Do you want me to call?” He was about to dial.

“No, give me the number. I’ll call.”

He copied the number into his phone and dialed, then listened to the ring, taking in the airport and the passengers who had stepped off that flight, feeling the loss of his daughter. Anger was beginning to smolder in his chest, and it had him wanting to yell and demand. He didn’t like feeling so damn helpless. He urged Morgan to answer.

The phone went to voicemail. “This is Morgan. Leave one.”

“Fuck!” He wasn’t sure how loud he’d said it. He fisted his hand and lifted it, running it over his head, trying to pull back that demon inside of him, the one that had shaped him in his younger years. He had been hotheaded, doing things without a thought for anyone else. He hoped he was a better man now.

“Yeah, Morgan. This is Andy Friessen, Chelsea’s dad, if you could call me back. Ric and Chelsea weren’t on the flight from Boston. I’m hoping it’s just a matter of them missing their flight, but I would’ve expected a call from them. I can’t get a hold of them, so, again, call me back. Maybe it’s just that our wires got crossed or they’re stuck at the Boston airport…”

The beep cut him off.

He had wanted to go on and on, unable to remember the last time he hadn’t been able to get answers. He hung up, taking in his son, who was looking around. Andy stared at his phone, seeing no message from Chelsea. When he did see her, he planned to have a word with her about

this distance, about picking up the phone, about telling him everything that was going on, her worries, her hopes, her dreams.

If she had missed the flight, her first call should have been to him. Maybe that was why that sinking feeling inside him was worsening. He’d been counting down the days till he would see his daughter again, but this was turning into something he wasn’t going to like.

Damn Ric Taft! For taking his daughter away, for marrying her, and for not picking up the damn phone to let him know there was a problem.

Maybe his first order of business after they finally arrived would be to sit Ric down so he understood not to ever pull this shit again.


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