“Just be vigilant, Greer, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Good advice.” She shrugged. “Except that it feels like I always have to watch my back. It’s a difficult way to live. Especially when I have a child to look after and a new business to start.”
“Hmm. Well, I’ll volunteer to watch out for you as often as I can. You and Shelby.” Noah took two steps closer, and this time ran his palms lightly up and down her arms. The unexpectedness of his move forced her to raise her head.
“Don’t,” she managed to choke out. “It’s not right. We’re not right. Go home. Just…leave me be.” Greer shoved his hands off her waist. She lurched sideways, then sprinted to the middle cottage and disappeared inside.
Her anxiety—over the threats to her ranch and the disapproval she faced—worried Noah. Greer Bell was the first woman in ages he’d had the slightest desire to be with. It was a cinch that the church board, people in town, his folks, wouldn’t like the idea.
Too bad. They’d better get used to it, because he planned to go with his gut on this one.
Dear Reader,
Any time an author is invited to take part in a linked continuity, it’s sure to provide fun, sprinkled with new challenges. All five of us “ranch series” writers were excited when we got the call. We’d all written about ranches and cowboys, but choosing a setting, a place to establish our town, sparked the first of many lively e-mail debates. (Thank heaven for e-mail, as we live many miles apart.)
Say “ranch” and who doesn’t think of Texas? So it’s not surprising that Texas with its vast diversity got our unanimous vote. With a general area settled on, the ideas flew as we built our fictional town. The result is Homestead, Texas, nestled in the heart of the beautiful Hill Country, in fictitious Loveless County. Who wouldn’t want to own land there, especially if the property’s free or nearly so? Ah, remember I said this is fiction!
The five of us who made up this town and populated it with our characters hope readers will come to love our families as much as we do. Every hero and heroine has a unique set of reasons for ending up in Homestead.
In this book, the fourth, I offer Greer Bell, her daughter, Shelby, and Noah Kelley, pastor of Homestead’s Episcopal church. Greer’s and Noah’s pasts are unhappily entwined. I have my fingers crossed that you’ll enjoy following their rocky road to love as much as I enjoyed helping them become a family. And I hope you’ll read all five books in the HOME TO LOVELESS COUNTY series.
I love hearing from readers. You can reach me at P.O. Box 17480-101, Tucson, AZ 85731 or e-mail me at [email protected].
Sincerely,
Roz Denny Fox
More to Texas Than Cowboys
Roz Denny Fox
We’ve all worked so hard to see this continuity come to
fruition that I’d like to dedicate my portion to the individual editors who have shepherded our stories from beginning to end. Paula, Zilla, Kathleen, Victoria. And to the other authors, Roxanne, K.N., Linda and Lynnette, who got the tough job of tying up all the loose threads.
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
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
SLOWING HER RED Chevy Blazer on the outskirts of Homestead, Texas, Greer Bell passed a population sign that read 2,504. Wasn’t it decidedly less than that now, at least according to the current mayor? Directly ahead in the center of town sat Homestead’s most impressive landmark, the old courthouse. Its yellow granite columns and soaring clock tower told Greer she was home.
She knew that a lot of small Texas towns boasted similar landmarks. This courthouse probably hadn’t changed since it was erected by a German immigrant in the 1840s; as the story went, his wife had refused to budge once they reached Loveless County. Oh, the tales that old building could tell.
Maybe returning home after ten years away wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d imagined. Greer had certainly never expected her first glimpse of Post Street to bring such a mix of nostalgia and angry butterflies to her stomach. Frankly she’d assumed there’d be more visible change because of the land giveaway. She’d figured there’d be more people out and about in the middle of the week. Mayor Miranda Wright’s plan to revitalize Homestead by offering land or vacant homes to families willing to rebuild the dying town didn’t appear overwhelmingly successful. This was the same backdrop Greer conjured up in every dream of home during the past ten years. Maybe there were a couple of new stores. She pulled over and dropped her head onto both hands, still clutching the wheel.
She was parked in front of Tanner’s General Store. Had it been revamped? Painted? Oh—down the street that sign for a Dollar Store was new. And the café.
Shelby, Greer’s nine-year-old daughter, had slept on and off during their second day’s journey from Denver. Stirring, the girl rubbed sleepy hazel eyes several shades darker than her mom’s, which were generously flecked with gold.
“Are we there yet?” she asked for the millionth time, punctuating her query with a massive yawn.
Greer quickly raised a clammy forehead. “Not yet, honey bunny. We’re in downtown Homestead. Our ranch is several miles…thataway.” Greer jerked a thumb toward undulating hills barely visible beyond the courthouse, where a couple of old men sat on benches.
Shelby pressed her nose to the side window. “Then why are we stopping? Oh…is this where Grandma works?” Her voice warbled excitedly.
“My mother, you mean? Uh, no. Loretta, uh, teaches math at the high school. It’s a few miles out of town.” Greer’s eyes strayed to her daughter’s image in the rearview mirror, she noted her own deep frown. She wiped it away. After all, she’d taken many things into consideration before making up her mind to move back to the place of her birth. And yet she’d sheltered Shelby from the truth about her family—why her only grandparents were nothing but a scrawled signature on Christmas and birthday cards. But sitting in far-off Colorado—where she’d helped manage a busy guest ranch—filling out an application for a piece of Homestead’s almost-free land had seemed simple. Here, facing the stark reality, even knowing it was time to confront her past, Greer wasn’t sure she had the stomach for it. Still, this wasn’t the moment to begin divulging the truth to Shelby. Not when so many unsettled feelings boiled within Greer.
“Groceries,” she said suddenly, digging up a reason for stopping. “We need a few things to tide us over until we get to the staples I sent in the moving van. This is Tanner’s,” she muttered, peering at the weathered sign. “It used to be the town’s only grocery store. I figured Homestead would have a superstore by now, but apparently not,” Greer said, scanning the two-lane street flanked by old one-and two-story red brick or cream-colored buildings. Her stomach pitched again. She’d counted on change, but there didn’t seem to be much, and now Greer wasn’t sure she could get out and step back in time.
Shelby