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USA TODAY bestselling author Allison Leigh introduces readers to a reluctant hero—and the woman who just might heal his wounded heart—in this newest addition to her popular miniseries, Return to the Double C!
Small town deputy Sloan McCray was making amends for his past. They called him a hero but only he had to live with the difficult choices he’d made. And he certainly wasn’t prepared to fall in love again, not even with his beautiful—and innocent—new neighbor, whose very presence was a balm to his troubled soul.
There was no doubt in Abby Marcum’s mind that Sloan was the guy for her. Though she’d moved to Weaver, Wyoming, to make a better life for her little brother, she saw her future with Sloan. Now she had to convince the man who felt unworthy of love that she and her heart were his for the asking….
“He’s a real white hat,” he heard her brother whisper behind him. “Isn’t he?”
Sloan didn’t wait to hear Abby’s answer as he let himself out through the front door. Whatever the white hats were that the kid was talking about, Sloan knew that he’d never worn one.
Abby might be the first woman he’d felt any interest for in a long while.
But white hats were for the good guys.
They weren’t for the guys who’d only ever hurt the ones who least deserved it.
RETURN TO THE DOUBLE C:
Under the big blue Wyoming sky,
this family discovers true love
Dear Reader,
What occurs between two people when “that moment” hits? When they realize that this is the person they want to be with from here on out? Can it be linked to one specific moment? Or does it develop slowly, over time? Or is it all of that and something more?
For Abby and Sloan, that moment hits quickly. She’s not surprised, and he’s not ready. But he gets there and she’s waiting when he does.
How about you? Do you believe in love at first sight? Tell me about it at [email protected]. I’d love to hear your stories. And if you’d like, I’ll share with you the recipe for Abby’s chocolate cookies. Because you never know…it may be the way to someone’s heart!
All my best,
Allison
A Weaver Beginning
Allison Leigh
There is a saying that you can never be too rich or too thin. ALLISON LEIGH doesn’t believe that, but she does believe that you can never have enough books! When her stories find a way into the hearts—and bookshelves— of others, Allison says she feels she’s done something right. Making her home in Arizona with her husband, she enjoys hearing from her readers at [email protected] or PO Box 40772, Mesa, AZ 85274-0772, USA.
For Greg.
Contents
Chapter One
The snow covered everything.
Everything except the clear strip down the middle of the street that had been plowed just that morning.
Looking out the front window of the house he’d been renting for the past six months, Sloan McCray studied that strip.
While the middle of the street was whistle clean, the displaced snow formed two-foot walls against the curb on both sides of the street, blocking driveways and parking spaces.
Generally speaking, Sloan didn’t worry about the snowplow job as long as it was done. It was his first winter in Weaver—the first snow had fallen in October and hadn’t stopped since. He’d had two months to get used to it.
There were five houses on his street. Some of the folks occupying the homes had snowblowers—ancient ones kept running by ingenuity and stubbornness, and new ones that cost as much as Sloan’s first motorcycle. He dealt with the annoying snow berm in front of his house the old-fashioned way—with a heavy-duty snow shovel and a lot of muscle.
Not a problem for him.
He’d been well used to being physically active, even before he’d signed on as a deputy sheriff here in Weaver. Pitching heavy snow out of his driveway was a welcome task.
Kept the muscles working.
Kept the mind occupied with the simple and mundane.
Two good things, as far as he was concerned.
He wasn’t sold on living in Weaver yet. His job was temporary; he had a one-year lease on the house. He needed to start thinking about what to do after the nine months he’d promised Max Scalise—the sheriff—were up. He should have been spending less time with the snow shovel and more time thinking about what the hell he was going to do with the rest of his life. But tackling that particular question was no more appealing than it ever was.
Standing inside the warmth of his living room, Sloan eyed the snow blocking the driveways. The small blue car had been sitting on the street in front of the house next door for nearly an hour. Footsteps in the snow trailed back and forth from the car to the house.
New neighbors. Moving in on the last day of the year.
He’d been watching them for a while. The woman was young, with shining brown hair that bounced around the shoulders of her red coat with every step. The little kid with her had the same dark hair.
He’d also noticed there wasn’t a man in the picture. Not to help them unpack, anyway. Nor to clear away the snow blocking the driveway, much less shovel a path to the door.
He turned away from the window, grabbed his down vest and headed out the back of his house to the small shed where he stored his bike and tools.
It was the last day of the year and he’d spent too much time thinking already.
Time to start shoveling instead.
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