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A Hero of
Her Own
Carla Cassidy
Table of Contents
Carla Cassidy is an award-winning author who has written more than fifty novels. In 1998, she won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series.
Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.
Jewel Mayfair shot up, heart pounding and panic suffocating her with a thick press against her chest. Her bedroom was dark except for the glow from a nightlight plugged into the socket on the wall opposite her bed.
She stared at the light, willing her heartbeat to slow and drawing deep, even breaths to calm down. She’d had the dream again. No, not a dream, it was a nightmare that had plagued her for over two years, ever since the car accident that had taken the life of her fiancé.
Andrew! Her heart cried his name as she remembered the last night they’d had together. Everything had been so perfect. She’d picked him up in her car and they’d gone to their favorite restaurant where he’d surprised her with a proposal, complete with a beautiful ring. And she’d surprised him with some news of her own.
Her hands moved to her flat abdomen. The accident hadn’t just taken Andrew from her. It had also taken Andrew’s child, who had been growing inside her. Grief pierced her, as rich and raw as it had been when she’d awakened in the hospital after the accident and been told of all that she had lost.
Slowly her breathing returned to normal and she glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Just after midnight. She’d been asleep for less than an hour and she knew from experience that sleep would be a long time coming again.
She slid her long legs over the side of the bed and grabbed the thin robe on the chair nearby. She belted the robe over her short nightgown, then opened the doors that led out of her master bedroom and onto a covered porch.
Despite the hour, the late August heat fell around her like an oppressive veil. Ahead of her was the pool and beyond was the woods that was part of the Hopechest Ranch estate.
In the last six months since coming to Esperanza, Texas, she and the woods had become intimate friends. It was among the tall oaks and thick brush that she spent hours each night when she couldn’t sleep. And lately that had been almost every night.
The chlorine scent of the pool hung in the air as she walked around it to the gate in the back. Opening the gate she paused and looked at the house.
It was still hard for her to believe that she was here in Esperanza, running a ranch for troubled children. The Hopechest Ranch was housed in a beautiful Spanish-style structure made of adobe with a tiled roof.
Jewel had her own quarters and there were four additional bedrooms for the children and a married couple, Jeff and Cheryl Cookson, who were part of the staff.
Seeing no lights on and knowing that if any of the children awakened, the Cooksons would take care of things, she walked out of the gate and into the cooler air beneath the trees.
A light breeze ruffled her short, sun-streaked brown hair as she walked down a well-worn path. She tried to erase from her mind the horrifying visions that haunted her sleep far too often. She was exhausted. Her insomnia was getting worse instead of better.
It was ironic that her job as a psychologist at the ranch was to help children heal from trauma and deal with problems, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out how to heal herself.
She stopped walking and leaned with her back against a huge oak trunk. Closing her eyes, she wondered if she’d ever get a full night’s sleep again, if the haunting dreams would ever stop. She’d hoped that by moving from Prosperino, California, she’d leave behind the haunting memories of that accident and her loss. But they’d chased her here and if anything had gotten more intrusive over the last five months.
“Jewel.”
Her eyes popped open and she froze, every muscle in her body rigid. Had somebody just uttered her name? Or had it been the wind and an overactive imagination? Her heart banged a more rapid beat as she gazed around her.
The warm night turned icy around her as she cocked her head to listen, narrowed her eyes to see. “Hello?” she said, the word no more than a whisper.
The moonlight was full, spilling down enough light to illuminate the path, but not able to pierce the darkness of the thick woods.
“Jewel.”
She gasped. Even though she knew it was impossible, that deep male voice sounded like Andrew’s.
“Andrew?” she half whispered his name as tears stung her eyes. She sensed more than saw a form just off to her right. “Andrew, is that you?” Her head filled with wild thoughts.
He hadn’t really died in the car accident. It had all been a terrible mixup, a case of mistaken identity. Somehow he’d survived and he’d come here to find her.
“Andrew, wait!” she exclaimed as she saw the shadowy form moving