House for Sale Soldier Included (Elliotts of Chance Creek #2)

Chapter 1

“W ell?” Lincoln Elliott asked his mother. “I can tell you’ve got something you want to ask me. What is it?”

His entire family was gathered on the back deck of his parents’ house overlooking Elliott Lake, as if they’d never left it. As if the whole town of Elliott Ridge hadn’t emptied out twelve years ago and remained uninhabited until he and his brothers returned at the beginning of April. Now it was June and his parents had arrived last weekend in time to celebrate his youngest brother’s wedding. Carter had exchanged vows with his bride, and his folks had enjoyed visiting their old stomping grounds, but soon they would need to return to South Carolina.

His father leaned against the railing close by dressed in jeans and a forest green shirt, focused on the boathouse that stood at the edge of the beach, probably calculating how much longer the roof would last before it needed a repair. His brothers sat clustered in a circle of deck chairs, in bathing suits or shorts, beach towels draped around, chatting about everything and nothing. It was as if they’d all traveled back in time to their teenage years, before the problems that had forced their family, and everyone else, to leave the Ridge for so many years.

Lincoln’s mother lifted an eyebrow. “You’re right; I do have a question. When are you going to find a wife?” Celia Elliott stood only as tall as his shoulder, but she was a strong woman who never took any nonsense from him or his brothers. She wore white capris, a light blue top and sandals, and she looked younger than her sixty-something years.

Hudson must have been listening, because he sat up in his deck chair, slapped his thigh and crowed, “You owe me twenty bucks!” Told you , he signed to Lincoln surreptitiously. Lincoln glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed. He had four brothers, and Nate, the second oldest, had developed a secret sign language for them when they were kids, inspired by the characters in his favorite science fiction novel. What Nate, Carter and Gage, his oldest brother, didn’t know was that he and Hudson had developed another sign language of their own. It was a twin thing.

Or it used to be. He couldn’t remember the last time either of them had used it. They’d rarely been in the same place at the same time during the years they’d been away. All five of the brothers had enlisted in the military when they’d left their home, but none of them had served together.

The rest of his brothers focused on the new conversation. “Twenty bucks? For what?” Carter asked. He had the brown hair and eyes all of them shared, but his hair was a shade lighter than Lincoln’s. He’d grown up during his years in the Navy, and his features were harder than they used to be, but his expression softened every time he looked at his bride.

“Lincoln bet me Mom would ask him when he was going to get married,” Hudson said.

Lincoln nodded. Looking at his twin was like looking at a slightly inaccurate mirror. They were identical, but there were differences, too. They had the same dark brown hair and eyes, but Hudson preferred a scruff of beard to Lincoln’s clean-shaven jaw. He had a tiny scar over his right eyebrow from where he’d fallen against the dining room table during a bout of roughhousing when they were eight. Hudson had always been the daredevil, choosing to fly fighter jets in the Air Force, while Lincoln had signed up with the Army and mostly kept his feet on the ground with the Special Forces.

“And you took that bet? You had to know she’d ask us all the same thing sooner or later,” Nate said. He was the shortest of the brothers, although still over six feet, and his hair was a shade lighter than the others’. He was stockier than the rest of them, too. He’d spent the past twelve years in the Marines.

Lincoln’s oldest brother, Gage, seemed lost in his own thoughts, but Lincoln wasn’t fooled. Gage kept tabs on everything that happened around him. He had the same dark hair as Lincoln and Hudson, but his features were sharper and his eyes more deeply set. He’d served with the Rangers.

“I’m surprised Mom made it this far,” Lincoln said. “Figured I’d win that money the moment she got off the plane.”

His father let out a loud humph , which told Lincoln he’d been following the conversation and saw the humor in it. Amanda, Carter’s bride, handed around glasses of lemonade and exchanged an amused glance with him.

“Don’t tell me you’re not ready to settle down,” his mother said. “You’re fresh home from a twelve-year stint in the Army. What are you waiting for?”

“Your mother’s right. Time to get a move on,” his father said. He shifted, and Lincoln wondered if his hip was giving him trouble. He was due to have it operated on in just a couple of days.

His parents had a point, he supposed. He had returned to Elliott Ridge to help his brothers make the family’s lumber mill profitable again so they could resurrect the town the Elliotts had owned for generations. Under any other circumstances, it would make sense for him to look for a partner.

Unfortunately, he had a debt to pay before he could do so.

A big one.

“Well?” His mother took a drink of the lemonade Amanda gave her.

“Soon. I promise.” He wasn’t about to bring up the debt with everyone listening. It was his responsibility, and he would pay it .

“You didn’t bring a plus one to the wedding,” his mother said.

“No, he didn’t.” Amanda agreed. “Why didn’t you bring a plus one, Lincoln?” She was clearly enjoying teasing him.

“I didn’t have one to bring. No one else brought one, either.” He gestured to his brothers, hoping to deflect his mother’s scrutiny. He’d be happy to find a woman to spend his life with. These days Carter strode around brimming with energy and enthusiasm for the future. It had been a long time since Lincoln had felt like that—and it was his own damn fault.

“What happened to Katie?” his mother persisted.

“Who’s Katie?” Amanda asked, moving to perch on the arm of Carter’s deck chair.

Lincoln sighed. “She dumped me during my last deployment.” He wasn’t broken up about it, either, which showed she wasn’t the one.

“What about the women around here?” his father grumbled. “None of them good enough for you?”

Lincoln glanced at him. He and his dad hadn’t spoken much during his parents’ time here. While his father was happy that Carter had gotten married, he hadn’t approved of much else Lincoln and his brothers had accomplished so far. He seemed to think they were moving far too slowly.

“I’ve been here only a couple of months, Dad.”

“So you keep saying.”

“I’m doing the best I can. We all are.” They weren’t talking about him finding a girlfriend anymore. They were talking about how long it was taking to get the mill running at its former capacity. The lumber business had been the backbone of the community ever since the silver mine ran out during the 1930s. There wouldn’t be an Elliott Ridge if they couldn’t make a success out of it.

“I saw Hudson flirting with someone in town the other day,” Amanda said, bringing them back to the topic at hand.

“I’m always flirting,” Hudson said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

Lincoln bit back all the cheap shots he’d normally throw at his brother if his parents weren’t around. Hudson never lacked for female attention. He was boisterous and fun and never took anything too seriously. When they were teenagers, Lincoln used to wonder if people even noticed him once Hudson showed up. Identical twins ought to have the same luck with women, but Hudson played in a league of his own. More than once Lincoln had taken a shine to a girl only to have Hudson beat him to the punch.

“Stop comparing yourself to him, Lincoln,” his mother said as if she’d read his mind. “Hudson likes to flirt. You’re looking for that one special person.”

There was no way to answer a pronouncement like that. “Sure thing, Mom.”

His mother waved a hand at him. “Scoff all you want. It’s true. Remember, Elliott men know when they meet the one . Right?” She turned to face her husband.

“That’s right. Moment I saw you, I knew how it would all turn out,” his father said complacently .

“Same thing happened to me,” Carter said. “I spotted Amanda, and boom! Game over.”

“Game just beginning,” Amanda corrected him and leaned down to give him a peck on the cheek.

He kissed her back happily, and in a moment the two were lost in a mutual admiration that made Lincoln jealous. When would he meet a woman who looked at him like that?

He didn’t buy the family legend, no matter what his father and Carter said. Love at first sight wasn’t real. Besides, marriage was too important to take that lightly. He wanted what his parents had—a partnership that lasted through thick and thin. They’d seen boom times and bust times. They’d had to admit defeat and leave their home twelve years ago, then create a whole new life in a brand-new place. His father had health issues, was taking medicine for his heart and was scheduled for a hip replacement this week. Still, they treated each other with respect and care. Were genuinely happy to spend time together. Seeing them dance at Carter’s wedding had eased his fears that their time in South Carolina might have put a strain on their relationship.

Lincoln’s mother turned to face the house, and as her gaze traveled over its white clapboard exterior, a wistful expression came into her eyes. Lincoln knew his parents were waiting for the day they could move back. His mother had been reminiscing all week about the good old days when the town had been a going concern. Once, he thought he’d seen his father close to tears. They’d been down at the beach by the old barbecue pits where his dad used to hold court at family gatherings and community picnics. His dad had always loved to see all his people around him, knowing he provided jobs and homes for everyone who lived on the Ridge. It must be breaking his heart to know its inhabitants had scattered to the four winds.

“You boys have made a good start here,” his mother said. “I have no doubt Elliott Ridge will be back on its feet in no time.”

His father humphed again. “We’ll see. Hate to think of Blake Warrington taking over the place.”

Warrington was their neighbor of sorts. He owned a large property on the back side of the Ridge, and he’d made a bid to buy their land, too. The town of Elliott Ridge might have belonged to the Elliott family for over a hundred years, but Warrington wasn’t much for tradition. He wanted to raze the place to the ground so he could double the size of the golf community he was building.

“We’ll never let that happen,” Lincoln assured his father, although concern tightened his gut. It was his fault his parents had even entertained such an offer when Warrington had made it last year. Instead of taking the cash, his parents had given him and his brothers a year to pay off the family’s debts and bring their town back to life, but Warrington was doing his best to thwart them. He knew that if Lincoln and his brothers failed, his parents would have to sell.

“I hope you’re right.”

“Meanwhile, find yourself a wife,” his mother said .

“I’ll do my best,” he told her, but he knew he was going to be so busy working to pay those debts for the next eleven months there was no chance of that.

“Are you ready to go home? The game’s going to be on soon.”

Charlotte Holmes glanced up in shock at Ivan Gasparyn, the stocky man who stood beside her. He wore a dark, finely tailored suit that fitted the somber occasion, but his bored expression made it all too clear how little he cared to be here with her.

“No, I’m not ready to leave,” she said, speaking more sharply to him than she’d dared in months. “This is my grandmother’s funeral, and I’m going to stay as long as I like.”

“Keep your voice down,” he snapped, looking around to see if anyone had heard. The parish hall of St. John’s Anglican church was full of people who had come to Iris Holmes’s celebration of life. Charlotte’s parents were long dead, and so was her grandfather, but her grandmother had participated wholeheartedly in the community and was well beloved.

“I will not,” Charlotte hissed. “I barely saw her this year because of you.”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I’ll go somewhere else.” He stalked off, followed closely by several men in only slightly less expensive suits. Ivan liked to think of them as his entourage, but none of them spent time with him because of his wit or charm. They were his paid bodyguards, nothing more, nothing less. She’d grown accustomed to one or two of them tailing her every time she left Ivan’s mansion, as well. She thought of them as her jailors and prayed every night she’d find a way to escape them.

Charlotte swallowed revulsion and grief. She couldn’t believe her life had come to this. Trapped by her own stupidity and Ivan’s iron control. Her grandmother gone. Two years ago, she’d thought all her dreams were coming true, but now she was living a nightmare.

If only all these people crowding around, carrying plates of finger food, chatting and reminiscing with each other about Iris’s life knew what was happening in hers. What would they say if she simply shouted it out—that Ivan watched her constantly. That his thoroughbreds won races because he doped them. That he kept dangerous company—and carried a gun.

The knowledge that he—and his bodyguards—were armed even now kept her quiet. Ivan had made it very clear that anyone who helped her leave would pay.

The packed room was becoming overwarm, but Charlotte couldn’t bear to leave the reception. With her grandmother gone, she had no one else. She’d lost her friends soon after she’d begun to date Ivan. He was good at making people feel unwelcome.

Someone bumped into her in the crush of people. “Charlotte?” he murmured in her ear.

Startled, Charlotte turned to find an older man in a rumpled suit standing closer to her than was strictly necessary. “Yes?” Who was this? Another of Ivan’s lackeys come to round her up and force her home?

No, she decided. He wasn’t dressed well enough for that.

“I’m Steven Prescott. Your grandmother’s lawyer. She asked me to get in touch with you.”

“Now?” Charlotte was incredulous all over again. First Ivan wanted to go watch a game , and now this stranger wanted to conduct business—at a funeral reception?

Steven kept his gaze averted, as if he was studying the nearby refreshment table rather than having a discussion with her. “You’re hard to find alone. Your grandmother made me promise not to let Ivan hear a word of what I have to say.”

“She did?” A tiny ray of hope pierced Charlotte’s anguish, and she copied his body language, turning slightly away from him and surveying the room as if looking for someone else. If Ivan noticed her speaking for more than a few seconds to anyone, he’d come insinuate himself into the conversation.

“You know you need to leave him,” Steven said.

“I’ve tried.” Charlotte’s voice cracked. She’d done everything you were supposed to do when you left a difficult relationship. Found a new job without telling Ivan. Leased an apartment she could afford on her own. Packed her things surreptitiously. Somehow Ivan had found out.

Steven winced. “I know.”

“You know?” How could he know? She hadn’t told her grandmother any of her plans—or what Ivan had done when he’d discovered them. Had tried to shield Iris from finding out how many mistakes she’d made.

“I’ve been watching you,” Steven said with a shrug. “I was thrilled to report to your grandmother you were making moves to leave Ivan—and I was sorry when it didn’t… work out.”

Charlotte barely caught herself before she turned to gape at him. He knew she’d tried to get away—and the disastrous results? “Who are you?”

“A lawyer,” he repeated. “A good one.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.

“I had hoped to extract you from your relationship with Ivan before your grandmother passed away.” Steven frowned, as if he’d let himself down more than anyone else. “Her health deteriorated much more rapidly than I expected, however. I promised her I would help you as much as I could. So here I am. Helping.”

She felt a tug at the pocket of the cropped black jacket she wore over her matching black sheath—the only outfit she owned remotely appropriate for a funeral.

“What are you doing?”

“Give me your phone,” Steven said. He glanced over her shoulder. “We have only a minute or two, so if you want to get free from Ivan, don’t ask questions. Just do as I say.”

She hesitated only a moment. She wanted to get free of Ivan more than anything in the world. Charlotte passed her phone to Steven, and he handed it to another man who just happened to be walking by. The man kept going.

“He’ll head in the opposite direction you’re going to take,” Steven said. “You do realize Ivan’s been tracing you through that phone. Reading all your texts and emails. Listening to your calls?”

Shock pierced her. He could do that?

Steven shook his head. He must think her a fool, she thought.

“That’s a burner phone in your pocket. My number is in it. Don’t call me for at least a week. Go to the airport and get on a plane. And then get on another one and another one. Keep going for as long as you can stand it and then pick a place to lie low.” He shoved a thick envelope into her hand. “Tuck that in your purse. You’ll find prepaid credit cards, cash and your passport. Now, I want you to think of the very last place Ivan would look for you. Don’t tell me,” he hurried to add. “Don’t tell anyone. Not even your best friend.”

Charlotte swallowed the sob that rose in her throat. She didn’t have one of those.

“Think,” Steven told her.

She thought. Where was the last place Ivan would look for her? He liked to take her to flashy cities like Vegas, New York, Monaco, Rome. She’d loved those trips once.

What was the opposite of Vegas?

Montana, she thought. It was full of ranches and mountains and trees—but few people.

“Got it?” Steven asked.

She nodded.

“That’s where you go last, when you can’t stand flying anymore. You get off the plane, find a cheap place that no one would ever look at twice and lie low. Don’t talk about yourself or your past. Don’t call attention to yourself. Don’t get in touch with the people you left behind.” Steven looked at her intently. “Get lost, in the truest sense of the word, okay? This part of your life is over. Start again somewhere new. Can you do that?”

She nodded again, but her eyes filled. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wish I’d gotten to see Iris again. To tell her how much I loved her and what she meant to me.”

“Your grandmother knew all that,” Steven said firmly. “She loved you very much, and she wished she had more to give you. I’m the executor of her estate. I’ll sell her house and possessions, and when I’m done, you’ll get a small inheritance. I hope it helps. The important part is not to second-guess yourself when life gets hard. Don’t sugarcoat your memories and reach out to Ivan once you’re gone.”

“There’s no chance of that,” Charlotte said. “I’m done with him. I’m done with men altogether.”

“Don’t say that.” Steven touched her arm for just a moment. “You’re too young to give up on love.” He held up his hand so she could see his wedding ring. “Twenty-four years this August, and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.”

“I don’t trust myself when it comes to men anymore,” Charlotte said.

“Just because your first try turned out badly doesn’t mean the next one will. Learn from your mistakes, figure out what you want in a partner, then get out there and find him. That’s what your grandmother would tell you. She had a happy marriage, too.”

Charlotte’s tears spilled over, and she hastily wiped a hand across her face. “I know what I want. Someone kind and honorable. Someone who cares about the people—and animals—around him. Someone who protects the ones he loves instead of bullying them into following his orders. Do men like that even exist?”

“Yes, they do. I’m one of them. Your father and grandfather were two more. Don’t give up.” He scanned the room, then turned to look at her. “Ready?” he asked. “When you walk out that door, you can’t ever come back.”

Was Steven right? Were there caring, loving men in the world? If she left now, could she have another chance to create the life she really wanted?

Every fiber of body ached for that to be true.

She took a shaky breath. Why not at least try? “I’m ready.”

“Let’s go.”

“I hope your trip home goes smoothly,” Lincoln told his parents as they walked up to the departures counter of the Chance Creek Regional Airport a few days after their gathering on the deck. Amanda had asked to come along to see them off, needing to stop at the grocery store for a few things on the way home.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” his mother said. “You take care of yourself. Take care of your brothers, too—and Amanda. Don’t let Hudson get into trouble.”

“I won’t.” It was a familiar admonition, as if he was his brother’s keeper. Since when had he been able to stop Hudson from doing anything?

“You kids are getting old and slow. I didn’t see Hudson up a tree once this whole week,” his father said. “No logging going on, either. Guess he thinks he’s got all the time in the world.”

“Hudson has been helping with the mill. We needed all hands on deck to get it up and running first.”

“Wait until you run out of logs. You’ll wish you’d done things differently then.”

“Oh hush,” his mother said to his father. “They’re doing what they can.”

“Plenty of timber left in the High Ridge parcel,” his father said. “Someone should get busy harvesting it.”

“I’ll bring that up with Hudson when I get home,” Lincoln told him. Leave it to his dad to grow talkative at the last minute.

“Should have seen me back in the day. I could climb a tree faster than Hudson ever did.”

“No, you couldn’t,” Lincoln’s mother said. “No one is faster than Hudson.”

“I could, too.”

They were still arguing about it when they said their goodbyes. Lincoln’s father shook his hand before they parted. His mother gave him a bear hug. They both embraced Amanda.

“Come for another visit soon,” Lincoln told them .

“Got my surgery in two days. Won’t be going anywhere for a while,” his father said.

“Take all the time you need to recover.”

“It’ll be fine.” His father turned away, but his mother hung back and gave Amanda another hug.

“I’m so glad you’re part of our family now.”

“Me, too,” Amanda said.

Lincoln’s mother faced him. “Find a wife,” she said again, hugging him, too. “Bring us back for another wedding.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he promised her and watched them go, cataloging the changes in them since they’d left the Ridge. He’d been twenty then. Now he was thirty-two. His parents were in their sixties. There were more lines on their faces. His father wasn’t as certain in his gait anymore. Lincoln had a feeling his heart problems had undermined his confidence, although he’d never admit that. He’d lost weight, too. Once as muscular as any of his sons, his arms were thinner now, his face more angular. His dad had been nonchalant about his upcoming hip replacement through the whole visit, but Lincoln could tell he was worried.

“Ready to go?” Amanda asked softly when his folks were out of sight.

He nodded, but it was hard to turn toward the door to the parking lot. Memories washed over him of the good old days. Swimming with his brothers in the lake. Playing baseball with the other kids in the Circle. Riding horses on the trails. The Fourth of July beach barbecues.

It had been an idyllic childhood until hard times overwhelmed them. Hard times brought about by his own dumb ideas. He’d gotten too big for his britches, and his mistakes had taken his whole family—hell, the whole town—down with him.

Lincoln shook off his dark thoughts as he followed Amanda to the door. He was older now. Wiser. He wouldn’t screw up this time. He’d right everything he’d done wrong in the past. Bring his parents home.

He scanned his surroundings automatically as he and Amanda walked outside, a habit he’d picked up in the military. A couple to his left were in a heated discussion, showing each other the screens of their phones while their little girl bent over a rigid plastic pet carrier, murmuring to the animal inside. Just past them stood a knot of men in business suits, something you didn’t see often at the Chance Creek airport. They walked off in a group toward the parking lot. To his right, a pretty brunette in yoga pants, a gray T-shirt and black runners was looking through her oversized purse.

Lincoln focused on her, curious who she was. She looked a few years younger than him, but he hadn’t seen her before. She hadn’t gone to Chance Creek High, like he and every other kid in the county had. He’d have to ask around about her.

No , he told himself firmly. He wouldn’t do anything like that. Not until he’d paid the debts his family had taken on because of his dumb ideas. He had eleven months to raise enough cash, and he couldn’t waste a minute pursuing pretty women.

“Thanks for bringing me to town,” Amanda said, distracting him. “Don’t worry—I’m not doing a full shop for the week or anything. I just need a couple of things.”

“No problem,” Lincoln said. Amanda was in charge of meals for everyone who currently lived on the Ridge, so he understood what she meant. When she did her weekly shop for the whole crew, it took an hour or two. He was relieved this would only be a quick trip.

“Mr. Fluffy!”

The shriek from the little girl with the cat carrier made Lincoln stop short. A cat streaked past him, headed for the parking lot. The pretty brunette with the oversized purse looked up, and their gazes met—for an instant. She had expressive blue eyes framed by dark lashes, a full mouth, fine features and thick, wavy hair pulled back in a long ponytail.

Something pure and hot shot through Lincoln like a bullet from a gun.

She was the one. She was the woman he was going to marry.

“Stop! Mr. Fluffy!” The little girl raced past.

Lincoln’s attention snapped to her, and he launched into a run. Girl and cat were heading straight for the stream of traffic leaving the airport.

Could he reach them in time?

He scooped up the girl in two strides, but the cat was faster. Lincoln kept going, hoping against hope he wasn’ t too late.

“Gotcha!”

Charlotte closed her eyes and breathed a thank-you to the universe, her heart pounding. She’d watched in horror as first the cat and then its owner—a little girl no more than four or five years old—had raced toward the parking lot, but shock had frozen her in place. Thank goodness the dark-haired stranger had better reflexes. He’d lunged past her like a thoroughbred eating up the final meters of a track and had managed to snatch up first the girl and then the animal just in time.

She was almost afraid to open her eyes and risk the possibility of meeting his gaze once more, however. The first time had left her shocked and tingling all over. It was as if someone had raided her daydreams to create her perfect man. He was so handsome, his expression so open and alert, and he’d focused on her with… interest. Charlotte told herself it was exhaustion and fear leaving her so shaken by the experience. She’d been traveling for days, sleeping only an hour here or there in cramped plane seats. The stranger had caught her attention the instant she saw him. Then the cat and girl had raced past.

“Audrey, how many times did I tell you not to let Mr. Fluffy out?” the little girl’s father cried as both parents rushed after her.

“She’s okay,” the breathtaking stranger assured them, gently cradling girl and cat as he strode back to meet them. “So is Mr. Fluffy.” He was dressed in jeans and cowboy boots, a clean T-shirt stretching across his muscled chest. His dark hair was short, his bearing upright and confident. Charlotte remembered the description she’d given Steven of her dream man. Someone kind and honorable. Someone who cared about the people—and animals—around him. Someone who would protect the ones he loved instead of bullying them into following his orders.

Check, check and check. Maybe Steven was right—maybe there were good guys left in the world. A ridiculous hope fluttered in her chest. Could a handsome, kind, normal man like this one be part of her new life?

“No, he isn’t all right! Mr. Fluffy’s hurt! I let him out because he’s bleeding!” Tears streamed down Audrey’s round cheeks. She struggled in the man’s arms, and he handed her carefully to her mother.

“Bleeding?” Audrey’s father took the cat, who writhed and hissed. Sure enough, its paw was streaked with red.

“Oh, Lincoln, the cat is hurt.” Another woman joined the group, a pretty blonde with long, straight hair caught up in a clip who put a hand on the handsome man’s arm. If he was a thoroughbred, she was a dainty filly. Her wedding ring glinted in the sun, and disappointment washed over Charlotte like a frigid wave, shocking her all over again.

He was married. And she was a fool.

A single fool who’d stay single for the rest of her life if she knew what was good for her.

The problem was, she didn’t want to stay single, despite her disastrous experience with Ivan. She wanted a husband and a family. True love. A home. Was that too much to ask for?

Probably.

Charlotte fought back her tiredness, lifted her chin and stepped forward with purpose to join the group surrounding Audrey and Mr. Fluffy. At least she could do something useful.

“Can I help? I’m a veterinarian.” No time like the present to start making a place for herself in this new town if she planned to settle down here. Steven had told her to pick somewhere Ivan would never look for her. Waiting to board her first flight—to Santa Fe, New Mexico—she’d searched an online map of Montana for small, forgettable towns and found this one. Chance Creek. Now she needed somewhere to hole up and hide until Ivan forgot about her.

“If you hold him steady, I’ll just take a look at that paw,” she said to Audrey’s father, projecting a confidence she hadn’t felt in months.

“Thank you.” He held Mr. Fluffy in a firm grip, while Audrey whimpered in her mother’s arms.

Charlotte bent to look, finding herself blinking back the sting of unshed tears. She was exhausted and overwhelmed, that was all, she told herself. She wasn’t sad that a handsome stranger was married. Lincoln could be as bad as Ivan, for all she knew. Anyone could fool you for a while.

Ivan had.

He’d flirted with her shamelessly from the first time she’d served him at the restaurant where she’d worked during veterinary school. Located near the Saratoga racetrack, it was fashionable among the track’s patrons and Ivan casually let it drop that his horses often featured in the races there. Wealthy and sophisticated, and quite a bit older than her, Ivan had her thoroughly outclassed. When he’d found out her major, he’d made it a point to quiz her on the finer points of equine anatomy, and each time he came back, he requested a table in her section, and asked her more and more complicated questions. Each time she answered a question correctly, she could tell his opinion of her went up. At the end of his third visit, when she’d set his bill on the table, he’d placed his hand over hers. “Double or nothing?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll ask one more question. Get it right, and I’ll double your tip. Get it wrong…” He’d shrugged. “All this hard work for nothing. What do you say?” His gray eyes had challenged her, and she couldn’t resist. She knew her stuff.

“All right.”

The question concerned a finer point about the latissimus dorsi muscle. Charlotte answered it easily, and triumph had shot through her when he nodded.

“I’m Ivan,” he’d said as he released her and took the bill. “Ivan Gasparyn. I think we’ll be getting to know each other better.” Of course, she’d seen his name on his credit card several times, but this was a formal introduction and she understood the significance of it.

When he’d got up to leave, Ivan had pressed a wad of bills into her hands. “Buy yourself something pretty,” he’d whispered in her ear. “My little veterinarian.”

He’d given her five hundred dollars that night and she’d had trouble speaking, excited by the boost to her bank account—and the knowledge he’d ask her out soon. Her hunch was correct. The following Friday he was back. He claimed a table for hours and when she finally left the restaurant, exhausted from her shift, she’d found him waiting for her outside, leaning against a very expensive sports car. He’d taken her out for a nightcap—and then took her home, as if their relationship was a foregone conclusion.

She supposed it was. He swept her off her feet with expensive meals, exotic weekend getaways, flowers and gifts. She’d never known a man like him.

Soon she thought she was in love.

She’d thought he loved her.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Charlotte shook away the unhappy memories, stiffened her spine and straightened to face the little crowd. Ivan was well over a thousand miles away. He would never find her here—and she’d never let another man treat her like he had.

“Mr. Fluffy will be just fine,” she assured Audrey. “Looks like he broke a nail. Don’t worry; it will grow back. When you get home, clean the area and put a little antiseptic cream on it.”

She stepped back as the family thanked her. Audrey’s father carefully returned the cat to its carrier.

“Let’s get Mr. Fluffy home,” he said to his daughter. “He’ll be happier there, and we can get him all fixed up. Okay?”

Audrey nodded.

“Thank you. Both of you,” her mother said to Charlotte and Lincoln. “I don’t know what I’d have done if Audrey had been hurt.”

“No problem at all,” Lincoln said. He waved at the little girl, who buried her face in her mother’s neck.

“That was quick thinking,” Lincoln’s wife said to him when they were gone. “By the time I pulled myself together, you’d already saved the day.”

“I know,” Charlotte said. “I didn’t realize what was happening until it was all over. You reacted so fast!”

“I’m just glad I got there in time,” Lincoln said. “Do you have a practice around here?” he asked Charlotte. “I’ve only been back in Chance Creek for a couple of months, and I haven’t had a reason to call a veterinarian yet.” He studied her, his dark gaze taking her in, reminding her of the way Ivan had looked at her in those early days. Lincoln’s expression was open and friendly, however, rather than calculating, and Charlotte wondered how she appeared to him. She wore a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt with the logo of a national park on it, both of which she’d managed to find in an airport gift shop. She’d acquired an oversize, black quilted purse, into which she’d stuffed everything she’d bought so far—snacks, bottles of water, another shirt and pair of pants. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail and wasn’t wearing any makeup—she hadn’t bought any yet.

Not her best look.

Still, she didn’t get the sense Lincoln was judging her the way Ivan would have. Ivan thought women were ornaments for men and should make an effort.

“Just got here myself,” she said evasively.

“And that’s all your luggage? You pack light. I’m Amanda, by the way,” Lincoln’s wife said.

Heat flushed her cheeks as Charlotte looked down at her oversize shoulder bag, embarrassed Amanda had noticed it was all she had. She hoped Amanda hadn’t caught her reaction to her husband, as well.

“Are you staying at the Evergreen Motel?” Amanda went on, saving her from having to answer. “Doesn’t look like anyone came to pick you up,” she added when Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “The Evergreen is the only motel in town, but there are several guest houses. Maybe you’re staying in one of them?”

Charlotte shook her head. “You were right the first time. I am booked at the Evergreen tonight, but I’m hoping to find a long-term rental.” She meant to stay here for a while. Maybe forever. Like Steven had said, she couldn’t go home.

Lincoln looked her over again with interest. Was he noticing her disheveled clothing and the smudges under her eyes? He must not have minded them, because he stuck out his hand.

“I’m Lincoln Elliott.”

After a moment, she shook it. “I’m Charlotte.”

“I’m still Amanda.” Lincoln’s wife smiled and shook Charlotte’s hand, too. “What kind of a place are you looking for? Something in town or out in the country?”

“In the country,” Charlotte said firmly. “Somewhere quiet, where I’ll be left alone.” Where Ivan couldn’t find her.

“Are you on vacation?” Amanda asked.

“Not exactly. More like I’m making a clean break and starting over.”

“You’re in luck, then. We know the perfect place where you can do that, don’t we, Lincoln?” Amanda smiled at her husband and bumped his shoulder with her own. “It’s remote, though. Forty-five minutes from town.”

“Is it an apartment?” Charlotte asked doubtfully. Forty-five minutes was a long drive.

“A house,” Amanda said. “In a ghost town,” she added dramatically.

“A ghost town?”

“It’s not a ghost town,” Lincoln said. “It’s just… empty. Everyone left twelve years ago. My brothers and I are trying to resurrect the place.”

“It’s been in Lincoln’s family for over a hundred years,” Amanda said.

“That’s right,” Lincoln said, nodding.

God, he was handsome. Charlotte was having trouble not staring at him and making a fool of herself. His shoulders were broad, his arms muscular. His eyes were to die for, she decided. A deep, warm brown.

And he was married.

“There are twenty-nine houses for sale and a bunch more for rent,” Amanda said. “They’re all really cute. There’s a swimming lake and a big town hall. We even have a library. I’m in charge of that.”

Not only was Lincoln married, but his wife was beautiful and seemingly without a care in the world. Her smile was contagious enough that despite herself, Charlotte smiled back. She couldn’t even be jealous of this happy woman. “Sounds wonderful. I love to swim.”

“We’re looking for people who don’t mind pitching in now and then. Folks who want to build a real community. There’s a lot to do,” Amanda warned her. “All the houses need work, for starters, but there are other opportunities for people who are motivated. We’ve got a small hotel and restaurant that aren’t being used right now. There’s even a chapel.”

“Amanda likes to slip in there now and then and get away from us men,” Lincoln put in. When his wife looked up at him in surprise, he shrugged. “I’ve seen you.”

“He’s right, I have kind of made it my personal sanctuary, but I don’t mind sharing,” Amanda said.

“I’d be happy to help out where I could, but I’d want my privacy, too,” Charlotte said. She was adamant about that.

“Of course,” Amanda said. “You can pick and choose when to join in. Right, Lincoln?”

“Right.” He was still watching Charlotte, and she wondered if he had reservations about inviting a stranger to their community. There was a military air about him she recognized. Something in his posture. The way his gaze flicked up to scan their surroundings now and then.

“How many people live in the town now?” she asked.

“My four brothers and a bunch of temporary workers,” Lincoln said. “Dennis, the caretaker, and Carolyn Snyder, who lived there when we were kids. She moved back last month,” he explained. “The town was a thriving concern until we had to shut down the lumber mill twelve years ago and everyone left. Now we’ve got it going again. Soon we’ll get our logging operation running, too. We’d be happy to welcome a veterinarian to town.”

“What kind of vet are you?” Amanda asked.

“I specialize in horses,” Charlotte hedged. She didn’t mention thoroughbreds, determined not to leave a trail of crumbs Ivan could trace to follow her here. She didn’t know Lincoln and Amanda yet. Maybe they were the kind who posted their every thought on social media.

“Lincoln has horses. Two of them.”

An odd way to phrase it, Charlotte thought. If Amanda’s husband had horses, didn’t they belong to her, too?

Maybe she didn’t like riding.

“Nate has one as well, and I’m sure there will be plenty more on the Ridge soon. We’ve got large stables and paddocks,” Lincoln said. “Besides, Chance Creek is teeming with them. There’s always a need for a veterinarian in a cattle town.”

That was one reason why she’d picked the place. “It sounds interesting.” Was it too good to be true, though? More to the point, was their community obscure enough to escape Ivan’s notice?

Maybe it was foolish, but she hoped Ivan would lose interest in her if she eluded him long enough. She’d never return to Saratoga, but if she kept her distance, surely he would move on.

Lincoln must have noticed her hesitation. His gaze sharpened. “Something wrong?”

“No. It’s just…” What could she say? “I… don’t know anyone here.” That was true enough.

“You do now.” His slow smile did something to her insides, and Charlotte tried in vain to steel herself against it. Her throat was dry when she tried to swallow. Was Lincoln always so… captivating? How did his wife stand it?

Amanda leaned closer to him, as if to stake her claim. “Is the newcomer deal still on?” she asked her husband.

Charlotte fought for control of her emotions. She was not falling for a married man. That broke all her rules, and she’d violated enough of them already.

“Newcomer deal?” she heard herself repeating, mesmerized despite herself by Lincoln’s smile. “What’s that?”