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      The law says…come home!

      Since when is prodigal son Matt Sawyer a small-town farmer surrounded by kin? Since the terms of his late father’s will demand he stay in Harland, North Carolina. Terms that attorney and hometown gal Caty McKenzie has to ensure are carried out. Matt left Harland years ago and never looked back. But running the farm and spending time with Caty brings out a caring, faithful side of Matt that he didn’t know existed. And Matt’s soon to discover the real challenge: convincing love-shy Caty to stay right there with him.

      “After my mom died, it was really hard to be here. I left Harland the day after graduation.”

      Matt had never shared that with anyone, and he had no idea why he’d picked now to bare his soul. Caty put an arm partway around his shoulders, and he felt himself leaning into her.

      He didn’t know why, but just having her there made him feel slightly less miserable. When he realized he wasn’t fighting it, he knew he’d gotten way too close to this sweet, understanding stranger.

      Angry with himself for losing his grip, he pulled away and got to his feet. “I don’t know why I told you all that.”

      “Told me what?” she responded lightly. “We’re just out here, getting some fresh air.”

      Her smile promised she’d keep his emotional meltdown to herself, and he managed a halfhearted one of his own. “Thanks… You introduced yourself as Caitlin, but everyone calls you Caty. Which do you like better?”

      She shrugged. “Whichever.”

      After studying her for a few seconds, he decided, “I like Caty. Suits you better.”

      MIA ROSS

      loves great stories. She enjoys reading about fascinating people, long-ago times, and exotic places. But only for a little while, because her reality is pretty sweet. Married to her college sweetheart, she’s the proud mom of two amazing kids, whose schedules keep her hopping. Busy as she is, she can’t imagine trading her life for anyone else’s—and she has a pretty good imagination. You can visit her online at www.miaross.com.

      Hometown Family

      Mia Ross

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      If you can believe, all things are possible.

      —Mark 9:23

      Dedication:

      For Elaine

      Acknowledgments:

      First on this list is my editor, Melissa Endlich,

      who generously took me under her wing

      and made a place for me at Love Inspired Books.

      Waving to all the wonderful folks at Seekerville (www.seekerville.blogspot.com) who offer advice when I need it and always make me smile.

      Donna, you taught me how the law should work.

      I hope you see some of yourself in Caty. Misty, no matter what, you can always make me smile. Beth and Elijah, you patiently listen to endless writer talk and remind me how cute little boys are.

      Most of all, I’m grateful to my family and friends for hanging in there with me through the

      tough times and celebrating the bright ones.

      I couldn’t have done this without you.

      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

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Epilogue

       Dear Reader

       Questions for Discussion

      Chapter One

      Caty McKenzie hated funerals.

       As an attorney, she’d attended dozens of them, for personal and professional reasons, but she would never get used to them. Some were heart wrenching, others were just generally sad, but no matter the circumstances, she couldn’t wait until the solemn ceremonies were over.

       It was a two-hour drive from Charlotte, North Carolina, to her hometown. She pushed the speed limit most of the way and by the time she arrived in Harland, there wasn’t a single parking space open near the church. Cars lined both sides of the street, and people were walking in from as far away as Main Street. She wedged her MG convertible into a spot reserved for motorcycles and hurried toward the oldest of the four churches that framed the town square. At the top of the steps, she found a hand-lettered sign tacked to the open door.

       “Our little church is not large enough to hold everyone this morning. Please join us on the south lawn to honor our brother Ethan Sawyer.”

       She looked through the stained-glass window over the altar to see what must be more than two hundred people seated in chairs, on benches, some sitting on the ground or just standing. The outpouring of respect for Ethan made her

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