Lexy's Little Matchmaker

The words caused Drew’s abdomen to contract. An air of awareness hung in the room like fog.

One hundred percent woman? Definitely.

Regular? No way.

His pulse deepened as an unexpected pull toward this woman gripped him. Not solely because of the easy, loving manner she had with his son, either, although that was definitely a plus. But aside from that, Lexy Cabrera was, quite frankly, stunning. She wore jeans and a red tank top that showed off tanned and super-toned arms and shoulders. She reminded him of an exotic Marilyn Monroe, all dark tumbled hair, slanted bedroom eyes and creamy cappuccino skin. Super sexy without even trying.

Yeah, Lexy was leaps and bounds beyond regular.

Dear Reader,

I’ve been the voice behind 9-1-1 for eight years now, and certain calls reach out and imprint themselves on your soul. Usually those are fro children, who are braver and more capable under pressure than we give them credit for.

So it is when Lexy answers a terrifying, life or death 9-1-1 call from six-year-old Ian Kimball. Afterward, Lexy knows heroic little Ian will always be in her heart, but she didn’t expect his widowed father to find his way there, too.

She quickly realizes Drew Kimball is far more than simply a patient, or the new guy in town, or a sexy, eligible daddy. He’s the one and only man who makes her contemplate risking her heart again.

For those who’ve followed Lexy through the first three Troublesome Gulch books and begged me not to forget about her (I never would!), I hope you find her healing path as satisfying as you did her friends'.

Wishing you health, safety and, of course, love,

Lynda

LYNDA SANDOVAL is a former police officer who exchanged the excitement of that career for blissfully isolated days creating stories she hopes readers will love. Though she’s also worked as a youth mental health and runaway crisis counselor, a television extra, a trade-show art salesperson, a European tour guide and a bookkeeper for an exotic bird and reptile company—among other weird jobs—Lynda’s favorite career, by far, is writing books. In addition to romance, Lynda writes women’s fiction and young adult novels, and in her spare time, she loves to travel, quilt, bid on eBay, hike, read and spend time with her dog. Lynda also works part-time as an emergency fire/medical dispatcher for the fire department. Readers are invited to visit Lynda on the web at www.LyndaLynda.com, or to send mail with a SASE for reply to PO Box 1018, Conifer, CO 80433-1018, USA.

LEXY’S LITTLE MATCHMAKER

LYNDA SANDOVAL

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For the brave little girl who called 9-1-1

and followed all my CPR instructions despite her fear. Your grandpa will always be your guardian angel.

Drew crouched at the carved wooden sign with white-painted letters and clapped a hand on his son’s slight shoulder, warm from the sun. “What’s that say, pal?”

Ian studied the words, his bottom lip jutting out in concentration. The expression always reminded Drew of Gina. “Um … Deer Track Trailhead.” He squinched his nose at his dad. “That’s hard to say.”

“Yeah, it’s a tongue twister—” Drew stood, then ruffled Ian’s golden hair “—but easy to remember, right? Deer Track?”

“Yep,” Ian said. “Deers make tracks.”

“That’s a good way to think of it.” Drew angled his chin down. “You won’t forget if you repeat the name in your head three times, just like I taught you.”

Ian squinted up at him and smiled. “I already did.”

“Good boy.” Drew lifted one arm and glanced at his wristwatch. “Ready for synchronization?”

Ian mimicked his father’s action, focused on his plastic digital superhero watch. “Mine says 11:11 a.m.”

Drew nodded once. “Mine, too.”

“Okay, so we started hiking from the Deer Track Trailhead,” Ian enunciated carefully, “at 11:11 a.m. You remember, too, Daddy. Just in case.”

Drew smiled down at his son, his heart swelling. “That’s right. The Kimball men can never be too prepared. You have your water bottle and energy bar?”

“It’s all in here.” Ian hooked his thumbs beneath the shoulder straps of his Batman backpack. He was in the midst of an extended superhero worship phase. Nothing could harm a superhero, after all. “And the special card I made for Mommy’s in here, too.”

It took all of Drew’s will to keep the soulcutting pain out of his expression. “That’s my little man.”

“I don’t forget stuff.”

“No, you sure don’t. Let’s get started. We have a long day ahead of us.” Drew blinked up at the crackling sun. “Looks like it’s going to be a hot one.”

Ian slipped his hand into his father’s. “Did you used to hike here when you were little, Daddy?”

“I did.” Boy, that had been a lifetime ago. “With your grandpa.”

“Cool,” Ian said.

Their hiking boots crunched softly on the packed dirt as they ascended the path through the Rockies. All around them, summer wildflowers bloomed with riotous, multicolored abandon, and the soft breeze through the evergreens sang on the air like angels’ whispers. Birds chattered in the trees, and the occasional chipmunk darted through the underbrush. In a word? Peaceful. And heartbreaking, but that was two words. This ritual, on this particular day—the anniversary of Gina’s death—might be excruciating for Drew, but it was important.