LITMIR.BIZ

       BRENDA JACKSON

      is a die “heart” romantic who married her childhood sweetheart and still proudly wears the “going steady” ring he gave her when she was fifteen. Because she’s always believed in the power of love, Brenda’s stories always have happy endings. In her real-life love story, Brenda and her husband of thirty-three years live in Jacksonville, Florida, and have two sons.

      A USA TODAY bestselling author, Brenda divides her time between family, writing and working in management at a major insurance company. You may write Brenda at P.O. Box 28267, Jacksonville, Florida 32226; her e-mail address [email protected]; or visit her Web site at www.brendajackson.net.

      ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

      To Gerald Jackson, Sr., my husband and hero.

      To my Heavenly Father who gave me the gift to write.

      Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

      —I Corinthians 13:6–7

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Epilogue

      One

      Durango Westmoreland stood at the window and focused his gaze on the mountains as a dark frown marred his handsome face. He had awakened that morning with an ache in his right knee, which could only mean one thing. A snowstorm was coming. The forecasters were reporting that it wouldn’t hit Bozeman and would veer north toward Havre. But he knew differently. His knee didn’t lie.

      There was definitely nothing scientific about his prediction but still, even with a clear blue Montana sky, he knew he was right. A man didn’t live in the mountains unless he was in sync with his environment. The mountains could hold you prisoner in the valley whenever a snowstorm hit, and their snowslides struck fear in the hearts of unsuspecting skiers.

      These were the mountains that he loved and considered home even on their worst days.

      Durango’s thoughts shifted to another place he considered home: the city where he was born, Atlanta. He often missed the closeness of the family he had left behind there, and although he would be the first to admit that he liked his privacy—and his space—it was times like this when he missed his family most.

      He did have an uncle who lived near, although definitely not a skip and a hop by any means. Corey Westmoreland’s breathtaking monstrosity of a ranch was high in the mountains on a peak that everyone referred to as Corey’s Mountain. However, now that Corey had gotten married, he didn’t visit as often. So Durango had become somewhat of a loner who was satisfied with enjoying the memories of his occasional visits home.

      One such visit was still vividly clear in his mind. It was the time he’d returned to Atlanta for his cousin Chase’s wedding and had met Savannah Claiborne, the sister of the bride.

      From the moment their eyes had connected there had been a startling attraction. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so taken with a woman. In no time at all she had turned his world upside down. She had actually charmed her way past his tight guard and his common sense.

      Later that evening, after seeing the bride and groom off, everyone, still in a festive mood, had remained in the hotel’s ballroom and continued to party, intent on celebrating the night away.

      Both he and Savannah were more than a little tipsy and pretty wired up when he had walked her to her hotel room at midnight. And at the time, accepting her offer of a nightcap had seemed like the right thing to do. But once alone, one thing led to another and they had ended up making love.

      That night his total concentration had been on her. Even now the memories of their one night together were tucked away and reserved for times like this when the claws of loneliness clutched at him, and made him think about things that a devout bachelor had no business thinking about—like a woman in his life who would always be within arm’s reach.

      “Damn.”

      He shook such foolish thoughts away and blamed his uncle’s recent marriage for such crazy notions. Durango quickly reminded himself that he had tried love once and it had earned him a scar on his heart. That wound was a constant reminder of the pain he had suffered. Now he much preferred the easy life with just him and his mountains. He kept women at arm’s length, except for when he sought out their company to satisfy his physical needs. Emotional need was as foreign a concept to him as sunbathing in the snow-covered Rockies. He had risked his heart once

Скачать книгу