âCan I count on you to help me?â
âYes, sir.â Charlie nodded vigorously up and down then slanted a glance at Meg before turning back to Cole. âYou can count on both of us.â
âIs that right, Meg?â Cole lifted a sardonic brow. âCan I count on you⦠this time?â
The words stung as much as if heâd slapped her. Yet, for Charlieâs sake, she managed to keep a smile on her lips.
The nerve of the man. He acted as if it was she whoâd let him down all those years ago rather than the other way around.
Snapping the last piece of equipment into place, Meg scrambled to her feet and held out a hand to him. She met his gaze. âOf course you can trust me, Cole. Every bit as much as I can trust you.â
Dear Reader,
When my daughter was small, I worried what would happen to her if her father and I both died before she was grown. Luckily we had some wonderful relatives who agreed to step in and raise her if that happened. I had no doubt they would love her as their own.
In Jackson Hole Valentine, Charlieâs parents are killed in a car accident. But in their will, instead of specifying a couple to take and raise their child, they name two single friends! On the surface that decision makes no sense. As Margaret says, itâs as if they handed over custody of their precious son to a divorced couple!
Thankfully, in this book set in beautiful Jackson Hole, not only do Meg and Cole get their happy ending (thanks to being brought back together by the provisions in the will) but little Charlie gets his, as well.
I donât know about you, but I wouldnât have it any other way.
Happy reading!
Cindy Kirk
CINDY KIRK has loved to read for as long as she can remember. In first grade she received an award for reading one hundred books. Growing up, summers were her favorite time of year. Nothing beat going to the library, then coming home and curling up in front of the window air conditioner with a good book. Often the novels she read would spur ideas, and sheâd make up her own story (always with a happy ending). When sheâd go to bed at night, instead of counting sheep, sheâd make up more stories in her head. Since selling her first story to Mills & Boon in 1999, Cindy has been forced to juggle her love of reading with her passion for creating stories of her own⦠but she doesnât mind. Writing for Mills & Boon>® Cherish>⢠is a dream come true. She only hopes you have as much fun reading her books as she has writing them!
Cindy invites you to visit her website at www.cindykirk.com.
To my fabulous critique partner and friend,
author Renee Ryan. This oneâs for you!
Margaret Fisher glanced around the attorneyâs waiting room, her heart fluttering like a hummingbird on steroids. Too nervous to concentrate on the magazine in her lap, she took a couple of deep breaths and let her gaze linger on her surroundings.
The random-width plank floor made from exotic woods added visual appeal while the muted tan-colored walls provided the perfect foil for the âartworkâ in the room. Like many businesses in Jackson Hole, the designer had carried the cowboy theme a bit too far for her liking. Ryan Harcourtâs rodeo awards were featured prominently on the wall and a well-oiled saddle sat on display in one corner.
Despite Ryan having graduated from a prestigious east coast law school, there was not a diploma in sight. Margaret assumed there would be one in his office. It didnât surprise her to see him focus on his roots in the outer waiting area. In Jackson Hole, the majority of his clients would relate better to his rodeo background than to his Ivy League education.
The young attorneyâand former champion bull riderâwas well-known to Margaret. Heâd been a classmate of hers at Jackson Hole High School as well as a close friend of Margaretâs boyfriend, Cole Lassiter. Not boyfriend, she corrected herself. Cole was simply the jerk who acted as if he loved her, took her virginity and then unceremoniously dumped her, all without taking her on a single date.
It had been years since sheâd seen Cole. Sheâd half expected their paths to cross at the funeral. After all, growing up, he and Joy had been next-door neighbors. Margaret had also heard he stopped in to see Joy and Ty whenever he was in town. But then, Cole hadnât bothered to come to her parentsâ funeral so it hadnât surprised her when he didnât show. Respect didnât seem to be a word in his vocabulary.
âCharlie, would you like to play with these?â Lexi Delacourt, the social worker seated to Margaretâs right, opened the large colorful bag and let the child sheâd brought with her peer inside.
Margaret smiled as the boyâs eyes brightened, and she pushed aside the old memories. There were more important things to think about today. Cole was the past. Today was about her future. Just like it had been when sheâd sat in the attorneyâs office on her seventeenth birthday. That day sheâd been with her seven siblings. The normal laughter and joking that always occurred when they were all in the same room had been noticeably absent.