Verwandte Artikel zu Countdown to First Night: An Anthology

Countdown to First Night: An Anthology - Softcover

Hart, Jillian; Daley, Margaret; Minton, Brenda

 
9780373837793: Countdown to First Night: An Anthology
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0373837798 ISBN 13: 9780373837793
Verlag: Harlequin Anthologies, 2013

Inhaltsangabe

Ten, nine, eight, seven…

Winter's Heart by Jillian Hart

Shelby Craig comes to Snow Falls for a First Night job, but secretly hopes it will be a respite from her grief and a haven for her two young kids. A sympathetic cop becomes the determined widow's staunchest ally—though helping her may break his heart.

Six, five, four…

Snowbound at New Year by Margaret Daley

This was supposed to be a done deal! Children's book author Ellie Summers came to the festival to meet her new illustrator. She didn't expect him to turn down her proposal. And then to find the obstinate man so charming… Is it wrong to hope his matchmaking twin daughters succeed?

Three, two, one…

A Kiss at Midnight by Brenda Minton

Pride is a hard thing to swallow, but Jolie Godwin does her best to ignore her grievances with Jake Wild this one time. The man is graciously letting her exhibit her artwork in his luxury resort for First Night. He seems like a good person and a devoted uncle. If only he'd always been so perfect. Because his kiss is something she can't forget….

Cue the fireworks!

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Über die Autorinnen und Autoren

Jillian Hart grew up on the original homestead where her family still lives, went to high school where Twin Peaks was filmed, earned an English degree, and has travelled extensively. When Jillian’s not writing her stories, she reads, stops for café mochas, and hikes through the pine forests near her home in Washington State.

Margaret Daley, an award-winning author of eighty-three books, has been married for over forty years and is a firm believer in romance and love. When she isn’t traveling, she’s writing love stories, often with a suspense thread, and corralling her three cats that think they rule her household. To find out more about Margaret visit her website at http://www.margaretdaley.com.

Brenda Minton lives in the Ozarks. She's a wife, mom to three, foster mom to five and grandma to a princess.  Life is chaotic but she enjoys every minute of it with her family and a few too many dogs. When not writing she's drinking coffee on the patio, wrangling kids or escaping for an evening out  with her husband.  Visit her online at www.brendaminton.net

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

The old Chevy gave a cough as it idled at the intersection of Second and Cascade avenues. Which way did she go? Shelby squinted at the signpost barely visible in the night. Cascade Avenue? Huh. No idea where that was.

She'd been absolutely sure that the moment she rolled into Snow Falls everything would come back to her. Memories of summers walking along Main Street slurping a dripping chocolate ice-cream cone. Pedaling rattling bikes from one end of town to the other with the sun hot on her back. Once, she'd known every street like the back of her hand.

Sure, twenty years ago. It may as well have been a century. She was no longer that carefree girl. The heater puffed lukewarm air over her face—please, don't let the heater conk out next, she thought and tightened her hands on the steering wheel. A lot had changed in twenty years. The Bavarian-styled town was bigger these days, spruced up with cheerful awnings and carefully designed storefronts. Designer street signs marked every corner and old-fashioned street lamps spilled light onto sidewalks. Sidewalks. What had once been a humble little mountain stop was now a ski-resort town drawing from nearby Denver. Snazzy.

Not like me, she thought, hitting her right-turn signal. As they say, it wasn't the years but the mileage that got you.

"Mama?" Caleb sounded groggy, more asleep than awake in the backseat.

"Yes, baby?" She glanced in the mirror to check on him—a big yawn, fists rubbing his eyes, half sitting up—and her heart lurched with a mother's love. When did her boy get so big? At eight years old, she'd better stop calling him baby soon. But not just yet.

"Are we there?" he asked.

"No. Go on back to sleep and I'll wake you when we're at Granny's." She tried to banish the worry from her voice. "You lie back down before you wake Riley. Tell me what you were dreamin' about."

"I had a horse that was a cloud and I was ridin' him and I was flyin'." Sleepy, those words.

"Bet you were sailin' fast through the sky."

"Yes, ma'am." Sleepier.

"Could you reach up and touch all the stars?"

No answer. He'd gone back to sleep, back to his dreams of wonder and light.

While she was lost in the dark. She shivered. The temperature was dropping, so she nudged the heater to high and hoped it would oblige. Hold together, car, she willed, and shifted into First. The drive up from Texas had taken a lot of oomph out of the handed-down Chevy, so she checked her rearview—the road was empty behind her—before giving it a little gas.

She'd learned to ignore the sputtering engine and the cough as the four-door sedan lurched forward, but the backfire was new. That couldn't be a good sign. If she'd had more than three figures in her checking account, she'd steer right into that gas station on the corner first thing tomorrow morning. As it was, she'd have to put the repairs off. Again.

Funny, she absolutely did not recognize where she was. Wait—that Colonial set back from the sidewalk looked familiar, a stately old house that was now a bed-and-breakfast. Okay, that meant she was headed in the right direction. Except what was that thunking sound? She turned down the heater to get a better listen. No, it wasn't a thunk, more like a whap-whap. Okay, now that she thought about it, the car was listing to the right.

She hit the brakes, which squealed slightly as she came to a stop. "Daisy, what am I gonna do with you? We're seven blocks away. Don't let me down now."

The idling engine misfired as if in answer. Shelby rested her forehead against the top edge of the steering wheel. Okay, fine, so it wasn't the engine that was the biggest problem here, it was the—

Knuckles rapped on her window. She would have jumped three feet, but her shoulder belt seized up, strapping her to the seat. Heart knocking, she peered up at the tall, uniformed man looming out of the night. A badge glinted on his chest, thanks to a not-too-distant street lamp and the ambient light from his flashlight.

Great. A cop. Just what she needed. She didn't want to roll down her window, but she did. "I can explain about the—"

"License and registration," he interrupted her with a low bark, perhaps aware of the sleeping children. Dark eyes, chiseled high cheekbones and a granite jaw gave him an intimidating appearance. And by the hard slash of his mouth, it looked as if he never smiled.

"Yes, sir." She kept her voice to a whisper, hoping Caleb and Riley would stay asleep. She rummaged through her purse. "I put that license somewhere. Oh, here it is. Are you having a nice evening, Officer?"

"Other than freezing my toes off?" His tone had a bite to it. He took the paperwork from her and shone his flashlight over her license. Reading all about her— Shelby Craig. Newton, Texas. Five foot four, one hundred and five pounds. Twenty-nine years old. Probably wondering what she was doing so far from home. He arched one brow as he studied her registration. "Why haven't you renewed your tabs?"

Good question. One she didn't want to answer, but the truth was always best. "At the time, I had to choose between food for my little ones or buying a sticker for my license plate."

Sure, she was ashamed, but this mess she'd gotten herself into was only temporary, so she looked him straight in the eye. Nice eyes, too. It was too dark to see their color, but they made him seem wise and soulful. And they had pleasant crinkles at the corners. Not even the shadows could hide the cut of his cheekbones or the straight blade of his nose. That strong jaw lent him a sort of honor and integrity. A handsome man, he looked like a good guy. She knew he was just doing his job.

Was it her imagination, or was there something vaguely familiar about him? She blew out a sigh. "How much is the ticket?"

"Expensive. Very expensive." His gaze cut to the back of the car at the sleeping children. A muscle ticked along his square jaw. "More than it's worth. Are you here visiting family?"

"Yes, and no. My granny lives here, so I'm staying with her for a short spell, but mostly I've come for a job. Then I can afford your ticket."

"You're a single mother?" He arched one eyebrow.

"Since my husband died on a routine patrol. Drunk driver. He was a cop, too."

"I'm sorry to hear that, ma'am." Compassion softened his hard tone. "I'm Deputy Winters. You've come a long way for a job. I hear there isn't much available, mostly a few temporary positions with the city."

"Sure, for the First Night celebration, but I'm not after those. I already have a job lined up, although it's temporary, too."

"Temporary?"

"Hey, it's better than a poke in the eye." She grinned up at him with determined cheer, and that said something about her.

"You're right. I've had a poke in the eye. Can't say I recommend it."

"Exactly." She was a beautiful woman. Long blond hair, wide blue eyes and a smile that made it hard to notice the strain in her expression. Exhaustion bruised the delicate skin beneath her eyes.

It wasn't hard to put the pieces together. Ronan spotted the jar of peanut butter and loaf of bread in a small sack of groceries on the floor, the boxes and suitcases and the little kids covered with homemade afghans. The family might not be living out of their car, but it was a near...

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Verlag
Harlequin Anthologies
Erscheinungsdatum
2013
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0373837798
ISBN 13 
9780373837793
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
320
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
HarperCollins Publishers, Product Safety Manager
enquiries@harpercollins.ie

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