Easter In Dry Creek. Janet Tronstad. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Janet Tronstad
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474066846
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      Reclaiming the Cowgirl’s Heart

      Clay West is back in town with amends to make and minds to change. The cowboy has spent four years in jail for a crime he did not commit, and he’s determined to restore his good name. The former bad boy’s first priority is convincing childhood friend Allie Nelson of his innocence. But she—more than anyone—has suffered in his absence. Allie can’t admit how much she’s missed Clay—and she can’t betray her family by putting her trust in him. She vows to forget her schoolgirl crush. But Clay will settle for nothing less than her forgiveness—and her whole heart.

      “All I want is for someone to trust me,” Clay whispered. “To believe me and know what I say is true.”

      “Oh.”

      “I’m not sure if I’ve met her yet or not,” he whispered.

      “I can’t choose you over my brother.” Allie felt a moment’s anger that he would ask that of her and then she remembered she had been the one to bring up the question about what he wanted.

      “I’m sorry,” she added.

      “So am I,” he answered.

      He pulled away then and they stood there looking at each other.

      She knew without asking that he would not compromise on this point. They were on opposite sides here.

      Clay finally moved to open the door and they walked out of the barn.

      Sometimes, Allie told herself, a woman had to stick with her family even if her heart wished she could believe something improbable. That was part of being a grown-up. Things did not always go the way one wanted.

      JANET TRONSTAD grew up on her family’s farm in central Montana and now lives in Turlock, California, where she is always at work on her next book. She has written more than thirty books, many of them set in the fictitious town of Dry Creek, Montana, where the men spend the winters gathered around the potbellied stove in the hardware store and the women make jelly in the fall.

      Easter in Dry Creek

      Janet Tronstad

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       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      And Jesus said, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.

      —Luke 23:34

      This book is dedicated to my new friends

      at the Covenant Village of Turlock.

      Thanks for the welcome you’ve given me.

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       Introduction

       About the Author

       Title Page

       Bible Verse

       Dedication

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Epilogue

       Dear Reader

       Extract

       Copyright

      Snowflakes hit his windshield as Clay West peered into the black night, barely managing to see more than a few yards down the icy asphalt road that lay in front of his pickup’s headlights. He’d exited the interstate and could see the twenty or so frame buildings that made up the small, isolated town of Dry Creek, Montana. This place—between here and the Nelson ranch—had been the closest thing to a home he’d ever known.

      “Not that it worked out,” Clay muttered to himself. He’d first come here as a foster kid, and he’d foolishly believed what the social workers said about him finally having a family. Of course, they had been wrong. Being a foster kid wasn’t the same as being part of a family.

      As he kept the pickup inching forward, Clay studied the road farther ahead until he gradually realized the town did not look the way he remembered. Four years had passed since he’d lived in this area. He’d been seventeen at the time. The heavily falling snow made it hard to see, especially in the dark, so that might have been part of his confusion now. And maybe it was because of the snowdrifts next to them that the clapboard houses seemed shrunken in the storm. But he didn’t recognize the gas station, either.

      Suddenly, he asked himself if he’d gone down the wrong road in the night. There were no traffic signs in this part of the state. There hadn’t been many turns off the freeway, but he could have chosen