Awareness sizzled in the air
âI donât normally do this.â Sara seemed to hesitate. âOkay, I never do this. But would you like to come upstairs?â
Michaelâs body hardened, his mind leaping ahead to the two of them naked, entwined in her bed. He dropped her hand and stuffed both of his into his pockets. âThis isnât smart, Sara. We just met. You donât know anything about me.â
She laid a hand against his cheek, her eyes asking him to trust her. âWhy donât you tell me?â
Here was his chance to do the right thing. She thought he was a hero. A hero! It was almost laughable.
He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. But all he managed to say was âIâm not the man you think I amâ¦.â
Dear Reader,
How much stock do we put in the opinions of others? That question led me to write The Heroâs Sin, about a man viewed as anything but a hero.
I got the idea to have a town newcomer, who has no preconceived notion of our antihero, witness him bravely churning through white water to save a boy from drowning. Once unflattering portrayals of him reach her, she has to decide what to believe. Her ears? Her eyes? Or her heart?
The Heroâs Sin is the first of three books set in the fictional Pennsylvania mountain town of Indigo Springs. But the beauty of the countryside, with the dramatic peaks and the tumbling river, is very real.
I hope you enjoy the visit to Indigo Springs as much as I enjoyed creating the townâand the heroineâs dilemma.
All my best,
Darlene Gardner
P.S. Visit me on the Web at www.darlenegardner.com.
M URDERER .
The word resounded in Michael Donahueâs head. It had been years since anyone had hurled the accusation at him but he leveled it at himself every day.
He bent down and picked up a flat rock, throwing it sidearm so it skipped across the shimmering surface of the Lehigh River before disappearing from sight.
Thatâs what he felt like doing. Disappearing.
Heâd come to the river straight from the Philadelphia hotel where heâd been staying since returning from West Africa, so nobody in Indigo Springs had seen him yet. He could get back inside his rental car and put in motion his vague plan to find a quiet place where he could unwind until he heard whether heâd been approved for his next assignment. It didnât matter where he went, as long as it was far from here.
Except he couldnât leave until Sunday morning and it was only Friday afternoon. He had a rehearsal dinner and a wedding to get through because heâd given his word to his boyhood friend Johnny Pollock that heâd show. At least Michael had had the foresight not to let Johnny talk him into being best man.
âBest man,â Michael muttered, picking up another rock and chucking it as far as he could.
How ironic was that?
He sat down on one of the large slate rocks that lined the bank of the river, took off his shoes and socks and dangled his feet in the cool water.
He used to come to the river when he was a kid, although Aunt Felicia had probably thought he was off raising hell. Sheâd had reason. Despite her good intentions, his great-aunt hadnât been able to handle a teenage boy angry at his mother for dying. Neither could she shield him from the loud arguments with her husband, who didnât want him in their house.
Michael sighed, his gaze moving to the opposite riverbank where he spotted a great blue heron. Its spindly legs supported a gawky body more gray than blue. The bird flapped its wings and ascended into the cloudless sky, transforming into a creature of breathtaking beauty in an instant.
He soon figured out the reason the heron had taken flight: a kayak appeared, followed by a string of bright-green rubber rafts heading for the white water slightly downriver from where he sat.
He read the writing on the sides of the rafts as they drew closerâIndigo River Rafters, one of the outfits that operated guided commercial white-water trips on the Lehigh. The companies catered mostly to tourists, also offering mountain bikes and tubes for rent.
Chrissy had been partial to tubing.
He tried to blot out the memory, but it took hold. His mind conjured up an image of Chrissy, her blond hair pulled back from her pretty, laughing face as they headed downriver on the inflatable rubber tubes. Not that either of them had paid a rental fee for their fun.