Will Wainwright is running from the pain of the past. Feeling responsible for the death of fellow soldier—the woman he loved—Will takes a job working for Lily, hoping the dawn-to-dusk labor will help him forget his sorrow. But, Lily’s grit and determination to move forward catches him off guard.
Friendship turns to passion …but can they heal one another?
Three days passed and Lily had forgotten all about Maggie’s grandson. Her hours had been filled with getting seed in the ground and nothing else. Her shoulders ached from steering the big John Deere and she still had another five hundred acres to plow by the end of the week.
She parked the tractor in the barn and trudged toward the house. The sun had begun to set behind the mountains in the distance, making it hard to see, but she thought someone sat on one of her wicker chairs on the porch. Maybe Maggie’s grandson had come after all.
Too tired to do more than eat, shower and fall in bed, she fought a spark of irritation. She didn’t have time to babysit a spoiled teenager. Why Maggie thought she did was beyond her. With a frown, she stepped up on the porch. And stopped. And stared.
A man sat on the rocking chair, spinning a Stetson on the toe of one of his boots. A striped western shirt hung open over a grey t-shirt snugged against a flat belly and faded Wranglers pulled over taut thighs.
This was Maggie’s grandson?
Lily swallowed and swiped her palms down her jeans, realizing for the first time how she must look in a dust stained tank top and jeans, her tangled ponytail pulled through the back of a ball cap. “Hello.”
A smile lit up against his darkly tanned face. “Howdy.”
“I—uh, I’m Lily.” She stood on her own steps, unsure how to proceed. “You’re Maggie’s grandson?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He stood and held out his hand. “Will Wainwright.”
“Nice to meet you.” She took his hand and jolt of awareness went through her. Dark blond hair, eyes as dark brown as the earth. Chiseled cheekbones. Wow.
Maggie had led her to believe her grandson was a teenager. This man was no teen. Probably around twenty-five. A man. Although a decade younger than Lily.
“I’m sure sorry about your husband,” he said. “Gran told me what happened.”
“Thank you.” He’d probably never been touched by tragedy in his life. Suddenly she felt ancient. “Would you like iced tea?”
Falling in love with romance novels the summer before sixth grade, D’Ann Lindun never thought about writing one until many years later when she took a how-to class at her local college. She was hooked! She began writing and never looked back. Romance appeals to her because there's just something so satisfying about writing a book guaranteed to have a happy ending. D’Ann’s particular favorites usually feature cowboys and the women who love them. This is probably because she draws inspiration from the area where she lives, Western Colorado, her husband of twenty-nine years and their daughter. Composites of their small farm, herd of horses, five Australian shepherds, a Queensland heeler, two ducks and cats of every shape and color often show up in her stories!
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