You can reach me at: www.roxannerustand.com, http://Facebook.com/roxanne.rustand, http://Facebook.com/roxanne.rustand.author.
Or by regular mail at: PO Box 2550, Cedar Rapids, Iowa 52406
Wishing you a lifetime of blessings,
Roxanne Rustand
Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never faileth.
—1 Corinthians 13:4–8
With love to Danielle, Ben, Lily, Violet and Finn. You light up my life!
Contents
Grandma Lydia’s Chocolate Chip Cookies
Home. Sort of, anyway.
Chloe Kenner glanced down the hill toward the sprawling ranch-style home sheltered by pines, then scanned the horse and cattle barns far below. Assured that no one was watching, she did a happy dance of joy.
She’d lived on the Langfords’ remote Montana ranch for five years as a little girl, while following her dad from his erratic employment at one ranch to the next. Even though their abrupt departure had been clouded with the usual embarrassment and regret, she still had warm memories of two of the three Langford boys and their sweet grandma, Betty.
The middle brother—Devlin—was another story altogether. But when she’d called to ask about renting a cabin, Betty had said Devlin was career military and rarely visited. And though everyone would be gone when Chloe hoped to arrive, her isolated cabin would be unlocked and ready, and she was to make herself at home.
Perfect. Complete peace and quiet.
After the calamitous end of her secretarial job in Minneapolis, heavy local news coverage of the debacle had ensured that she was nearly unemployable there. At least until one particularly rabid reporter gave up and decided to leave her in peace, and all of the others forgot about her and moved on. But surely none of them would find her clear out here in Montana.
She’d been skillfully framed by her conniving former boss—who had lied about being single and had declared his undying love, while embezzling from investment clients, then he’d pinned the crime on her when he was caught. How had she been so blind? Such a poor judge of character? Just the thought of ever risking another romance made her shudder.
But the thought of looming bankruptcy was worse. With no interruptions for the next three months, she could finish her writing projects and pray they would help pay off her staggering legal debts.
She shifted the weight of her heavy backpack, bowed her head and resolutely dragged her bulky suitcase up the rocky trail to the first of three cabins that she remembered were strewn amongst the trees.
The