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       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       About the Author

       Booklist

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Introduction

       Dear Reader

       Bible Verse

       Dedication

       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

       Epilogue

       Extract

       About the Publisher

       Chapter One

      Four years ago Hope, Oklahoma, had been a forgotten lake town, and Eve Vincent had been a patient in a VA hospital coming to terms with her new reality. As she transferred from her car to the wheelchair next to it, she realized that they’d both changed. The town was booming again. The resorts and hotels were up and running, and stores were reopened with new businesses. And Eve, like the little town of Hope, had reinvented herself. She’d survived the changes that had happened after an IED exploded, leaving her paralyzed from the waist down.

      Eve hadn’t grown up in Hope but she now considered the little town her home. She had moved here to live on Mercy Ranch, owned by Jack West, the same man who had infused money and time into the local economy, essentially reviving the town. What Jack had done for Hope, he’d also done for the wounded warriors he’d brought to his ranch. He’d given them all a second chance and a way to start over.

      Sometimes she thought about going back home to Texas. But home was too complicated. Her aging parents would want to coddle her even as they reminded her they had begged her not to join the army. Going back to Texas would mean facing the past, facing memories and people. The past was best left in the past. She had a new life, a new reality. Tough as it had been, she’d found happiness here. Contentment even.

      As she headed for the ramp at the side of Mattie’s Café, she raised her face to the warm, late April sunshine. A perfect day. She glanced around, searching for Kylie West’s car. They met every Monday for lunch. It had been their routine since Kylie married Jack West’s son, Carson.

      Kylie met her at the top of the ramp, holding the door open for Eve to enter the café. Eve smiled up at her friend. Kylie held her two-month-old foster daughter in her arms and she looked every bit the happy wife and mother she should be.

      “You beat me here. Even with a baby and two kids, you’re early,” Eve teased her friend. Kylie was always early.

      “It’s a hard habit to break,” Kylie said as she followed Eve into the diner. “I have a table in the corner.”

      “Perfect.”

      Holly, the owner of Mattie’s, approached with water and menus. She looked frazzled, her dark hair in a messy bun and circles under her eyes that suggested she hadn’t been sleeping.

      “You okay, Holly?” Eve asked as the other woman set glasses of water on the table.

      “It’s been a busy morning. Hectic. And, you know, life.”

      “Anything we can do?” Kylie asked.

      Holly shook her head but Eve thought she saw moisture gather in her eyes. “Nope. I’ve got this. I’ll be right back to get your orders.”

      “I wish she understood that she has friends who are willing to help her.” Kylie situated her infant daughter in Eve’s arms. “I’m guessing that, even though you don’t like kids, babies or kittens, you want to hold this little darling?”

      “I’m not that horrible.” Eve gladly took the tiny little girl. “I like kittens.”

      “You’re absolutely not horrible,” Kylie assured her.

      “And I think Holly is just holding everything together and afraid if she cracks, even a little, the dam will burst.”

      “Agreed.”

      Eve’s phone rang. Kylie reached for her purse but Eve stopped her. “No. It’s probably my parents. And I don’t want to talk to them.”

      “You’re not talking to them?”

      “Today you’re my friend, not my therapist.” Eve kissed the downy head of the infant in her arms. “I love this precious nugget.”

      “Do not call her a nugget.”

      “She’s bite-sized.”

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