USA TODAY bestselling author Allison Leigh introduces readers to a reluctant heroâand the woman who just might heal his wounded heartâin 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 heâd made. And he certainly wasnât prepared to fall in love again, not even with his beautifulâand innocentânew neighbor, whose very presence was a balm to his troubled soul.
There was no doubt in Abby Marcumâs mind that Sloan was the guy for her. Though sheâd 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 askingâ¦.
âHeâs a real white hat,â he heard her brother whisper behind him. âIsnât he?â
Sloan didnât wait to hear Abbyâs answer as he let himself out through the front door. Whatever the white hats were that the kid was talking about, Sloan knew that heâd never worn one.
Abby might be the first woman heâd felt any interest for in a long while.
But white hats were for the good guys.
They werenât for the guys whoâd 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 âthat momentâ 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. Sheâs not surprised, and heâs not ready. But he gets there and sheâs waiting when he does.
How about you? Do you believe in love at first sight? Tell me about it at [email protected]. Iâd love to hear your stories. And if youâd like, Iâll share with you the recipe for Abbyâs chocolate cookies. Because you never knowâ¦it may be the way to someoneâs heart!
All my best,
Allison
There is a saying that you can never be too rich or too thin. ALLISON LEIGH doesnât believe that, but she does believe that you can never have enough books! When her stories find a way into the heartsâand bookshelvesâ of others, Allison says she feels sheâs 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.
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 heâd 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 didnât worry about the snowplow job as long as it was done. It was his first winter in Weaverâthe first snow had fallen in October and hadnât stopped since. Heâd had two months to get used to it.
There were five houses on his street. Some of the folks occupying the homes had snowblowersâancient ones kept running by ingenuity and stubbornness, and new ones that cost as much as Sloanâs first motorcycle. He dealt with the annoying snow berm in front of his house the old-fashioned wayâwith a heavy-duty snow shovel and a lot of muscle.
Not a problem for him.
Heâd been well used to being physically active, even before heâd 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 wasnât 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 heâd promised Max Scaliseâthe sheriffâwere 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.
Heâd 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.