LITMIR.BIZ

      SHERI WHITEFEATHER is an award-winning, bestselling author. She writes a variety of romance novels for Mills & Boon and has become known for incorporating Native American elements into her stories. She has two grown children who are tribally enrolled members of the Muscogee Creek Nation. She lives in California and enjoys shopping in vintage stores and visiting art galleries and museums. Sheri loves to hear from her readers at www.sheriwhitefeather.com.

      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Extract

       Copyright

Chapter One

      Candy McCall didn’t want to sell her house. It was her dream home, her Southern California sanctuary, and she was going to miss it when she was gone.

      Of course it hadn’t sold yet. She hadn’t even gotten any offers. That might change today, though. A potential buyer was on his way. And of all things, she’d discovered that it was someone from her past. Her very first boyfriend, in fact. A man named Tanner Quinn. She hadn’t seen him since they were teenagers or kept track of his whereabouts, but they had a mutual friend who’d referred him to her.

      She’d spoken to him briefly on the phone and learned that he owned a place called T.Q.’s Riding Academy and Stables. Oh, and that if he was interested in her house, it would be a cash sale.

      She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer. A cash sale was just what she needed to get out of this mess. She was in such a dire financial situation she couldn’t even afford to use a Realtor.

      But how strange was this going to be, showing her house to Tanner? She was actually nervous about seeing him.

      Just as she opened her eyes, the doorbell rang.

      She rushed to answer the summons, then gazed at the man on her porch. Heaven almighty. That six-foot-three frame. Those slate-gray eyes. He would be around her age, thirty-four or so now, and although he’d grown up and filled out, she would know him anywhere.

      With his short black hair slicked away from his handsomely chiseled face, he made quite the dashing figure. He wore a classic ensemble of English riding gear. Clearly, he’d just come from work. Or a polo match. Or something where wicked boots were required.

      Neither of them spoke. They just kept staring at each other, with awkward smiles, trying to get used to this hasty reunion.

      He finally said, “Well, hello, Candy Sorensen.”

      “Hello, yourself. But for the record, I’m Candy McCall now,” she reminded him.

      “Oh, that’s right. Your married name.”

      “Yes.” She paused and uncomfortably added, “But as I mentioned on the phone, I’m divorced now.” The dissolution of her marriage was a painful topic, but she couldn’t very well behave as if she was still a doe-eyed wife. Changing the subject, she gestured to the doorway. “Do you want to come in?”

      She stepped back to allow him entrance, and he crossed the threshold, looking like the horseman that he was. She wasn’t surprised that he made his living in the equestrian industry. He’d always worked around horses, except that he’d been more of the cowboy type when he was younger.

      Then again, she didn’t doubt he would be just as comfortable in Wrangler jeans and a Stetson as he was in a button-down shirt and

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