Neither looked back as they walked, wrapped in each other's arms, toward home.
EPILOGUE
Jonna smiled and waved as she turned the car into the drive. Coming from the opposite direction, Sheriff Madden waved back, put his turn signal on and followed her in.
It was fall again, exactly the kind of day it had been when Sam had first come. Jonna drove slowly, admiring the rich autumn colors of the trees along the lane, and watching for Ryan and Shelly, her hired man's two-and four-year-old kids. They were there, tanned and ripping and running across the yard of the old farmhouse, and Anita was sipping iced tea on the porch watching them. She lifted her hand toward her friend and felt a surge of happiness at the changes in her life in the last year. The biggest one came around the corner of the house from the direction of the barn.
This time she braked, and Sam sauntered up and opened the passenger door. She expected him to lean over and give her a kiss. Instead he threw his wide-brimmed cowboy hat into the back and got in.
"Through for the day?" she asked breathlessly as his lips brushed hers.
"For now," he murmured, drawing away reluctantly and flicking a thumb over his shoulder. "Looks like we've got company."
Madden honked as if in reply.
Sam closed the door and she restarted the procession to the top of the hill.
"Beautiful day," Madden called as he stepped out of his car.
"Oh, I don't know, Rod," Sam said, his hand protectively at Jonna's waist as he guided her toward the house. "I suppose it depends on what brought you here."
Madden faked disappointment as he followed them in without an invitation. "And I thought we'd become friends."
Sam laughed and pulled a chair out at the table. "Sit down, you old fool. What can I get you to drink?"
"Iced tea sounds good." He removed his hat and set it beside him.
"You've got news about Quentin?" Jonna asked, impatiently sitting on her leg, leaning onto the table with her hands lightly clasped.
Madden shook his head. "No. And I don't think I will have any time soon. I don't think either of you will ever have to testify. Last time I talked to Agent Connors, he said Kincaid is more spaced out than the day they put him in that place for the criminally insane. The biggest reaction they've had from him was the day Dolly came to do her motherly duty by visiting him. He went berserk, tried to attack her, then immediately went into his zombie mode again as soon as they restrained him. I personally don't think that's going to change."
"So?" Sam set glasses down in front of both Jonna and the sheriff.
Madden hesitated, obviously pondering how to broach whatever subject he'd come to discuss. Jonna watched Sam lounge into the chair beside her and reached for his hand. It was so nice to be able to touch him whenever she wanted, to reach for him and know he would be there.
He smiled, told her all sorts of secret things with his eyes, then pulled her hand into his lap and idly twisted her wedding ring as he turned his attention back to Madden.
"You know I plan to retire in another six months," Rod said finally. "Elections are coming up soon and I've been thinking about my replacement for a long time. I hope I can convince you to run for county sheriff, Sam."
Sam laughed. "You're kidding. First you arrest me, now you want me to take your place?"
Madden fiddled with his hat sheepishly. "You know I wouldn't—"
"Oh, I know, Rod," Sam interrupted. "I'm just taken a little aback."
"You'd be good," Madden said. "I can't think of anyone who would be better than you. And you wouldn't have any trouble getting elected," Madden hurried on with his pitch. "I doubt anyone would even run against you if you threw your hat in the ring. You're pretty much a hero around here."
Jonna gazed at Sam, saw him quickly dampen the enthusiasm in his eyes. "What about Gary?" Sam referred to the undersheriff.
"Since that whole damn thing out here, he's gone nuts on me." Madden shook his head. "He doesn't want the job. He's been working day and night, taking some college classes at Emporia State, and Agent Connors is trying to help him get into the FBI academy. He's decided he likes big crime."
As if to contradict Jonna's earlier thoughts, Sam shook his head. "I've decided I kind of like farming, Sheriff," he said. Jonna squeezed his hand.
"Well it sure agrees with you and the farm," Madden said. "I couldn't help noticing when I came in, it's beginning to look as busy as it did when Big John was around— no offense," he added quickly, stealing Jonna a glance.
"None taken." She smiled. It would have taken a lot to offend her these days. "I was just going through the motions. I'm glad Sam has taken the responsibilities off my hands."
"So you think Sam running for sheriff would be a bad idea, too," he said glumly.
"Not at all. From what I've seen of how hard you work, Rod, I think Sam could probably do a bit of both if he wanted to—especially since we've hired another man. I think it’s up to Sam."
Sam shook his head and Madden gulped down his tea.
"Let me think about it," Sam said, standing up and pretty much indicating that as far as he was concerned the talk was through. Madden didn't waste time with his leaving.
"So what did you think?" Jonna asked as soon as the sheriff was gone.
He drew her out of her chair, pulling her close, placing the gentlest of kisses against her brow. "Oh, Jonna. I haven't ever been as happy as I've been the past year with you. Why would we want to rock the boat? Mess around with things?"
"Because some of the changes have been so good," she whispered, trying to burrow even deeper against him so he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. "I was just thinking about them on my way home. Do you know how lonely I was before you came? All that's changed."
"And we had to go through some bad to get to the good," he said, holding her tight.
"Do you know how much I love having friends just down the hill? And our anniversary is coming up in another six weeks. Oh, Sam, I've always loved this place, but this is how it’s supposed to be, not lifeless like it was a year ago. My dad would be so proud of what you've done with it."
"I'm proud of it, too," he whispered, resting his cheek against the top of her head. "So how on earth would my being sheriff improve anything?"
"Maybe it wouldn't," she said. "I just think you should consider it. You always dreamed of saving the world. Maybe this is your chance."
"You think I can do that from Whitfield, Kansas?" He laughed.
She loved his laugh, she loved him, and the way his dark eyes sparkled and how he looked relaxed and at peace now most of the time. She loved the way he flexed and stretched when he was weary from hard work, as he was doing now.
She pushed him toward the couch in the living room and sat him down. "I think you can make it better. And right now, that's more important than it's ever been," she admonished him seriously.
"Oh?" he mocked her.
"Oh, yes," she said. "You wait right here, I'll show you why." She got her purse from the kitchen counter, dramatically opening it and withdrawing the picture. She savored the act of handing it to him as he drew her down onto his lap.
He frowned as he looked at the black-and-white picture that looked like a blob taken way out of focus.
"This is her head," she said, turning the picture right side up for him and outlining one of the more distinct shapes with her fingernail. "This is one of her arms—"
She got no further before he grabbed her, turning her around. "You're pregnant?"
She nodded. "And this is your first picture of your daughter," she said, holding it in front of his face again. "Isn't she wonderful?"
He laughed shakily. "She obviously takes after her father," he said, his eyes filling with tears. "I sure hope she becomes as beautiful as her mom."
"Oh, Sam." She sighed and words were no longer necessary.
# # # #
VAL DANIELS/ALFIE THOMPSON
wrote her first romance in the sixth grade,
when her teacher told the class to transform a short story about a bear attack into a play. Val/Alfie changed it to a romance by bringing a neighboring family to visit the isolated farm. The shy son, the main character in the original story, saved the neighbor's daughter from a bear attack and gave him the courage to declare his affection for her. In Val/Alfie's current stories, the heroes and heroines are older and wiser, and their problems are not bears, but the romantic endings remain the same...happily ever after.
Her first "we're buying your book" telephone call came in December 1989 and that first book was a Christmas story, published the following Christmas by Harlequin. Is it any wonder that she loves Christmas for more than the usual reasons? Since then, writing as Val Daniels, she has sold 9 books to Harlequin/Silhouette, including eight Romances (two of them Christmas themed), one Shadows (romantic suspense) and one Special Edition (longer contemporary romance). Her books have been published in 29 languages and 32 countries and more than 5 million copies of her books are in print.
Running Press (a division of Perseus) published her first non-fiction book on learning to write fiction by watching movies. Lights! Camera! Fiction! A Movie Lovers Guide to Writing a Novel by Alfie Thompson is available from the usual online booksellers and will be available soon as an ebook. Eight out of ten of her romances are available as ebooks, with a new series (The Bridges of Madison County) coming in 2012, exclusively in that format.
Alfie has given writing workshops from New York City to Hawaii and served for five years on the Romance Writers of America's Board of Directors. As national conference chair in 1990, she initiated the first ever "Readers For Life" literacy book signing which has raised over three quarters of a million dollars for Literacy since its inception.
Val/Alfie lives in Kansas with her husband, Dan, and a Lucy dog.
Dear Reader,
I've loved romances since my grandmother began sharing hers with me when I was twelve years old. My addiction to horror/suspense came later, as I discovered Dean Koontz, Mary Higgins Clark, Thomas Harris, Robort R. McCammon, Stephen King—the list continues to grow. (And I know I'm not the only romance reader who is an avid fan of these books.)
I searched for stories that combined the two—Koontz's Lightning came close, but when the guy who had loved so dramatically throughout the book didn't get the girl in the end, I cried. When I decided to try to marry my two favorite genres into "romantic stories from the dark side of love," it took about four pages to figure out that writing such an unusual combination was really tough. How do you blend edge-of-your-seat suspense with the ecstasy of falling in love? What did the two kinds of stories have in common? Emotion. I went for that.
When an editor called to say her Harlequin wanted to publish Between Dusk and Dawn in their new Shadows series—a series that was ahead of its time back then--I smiled a lot, knowing some of those magic feelings I tried so hard to capture must have come through.
I hope my updated story gave you a suspenseful, heart-stopping chill or two and a romantic, heartwarming high. I hope if you have a moment or two, you’ll leave me a review on your favorite review site or right on amazon.com! You’ll never know how much authors love getting your thoughts and taking what we learn to the next book.
Sincerely,
Val Daniels
Alfie Thompson
Traditional romances by Val Daniels
Silver Bells
Forever Isn’t Long Enough
A Ranch, A Ring and Everything
Sweet Valentine
For Baby’s Sake
Marriage on His Terms
Santa’s Special Delivery
Making Mr. Right
Longer Contemporary Romance by Val Daniels
Their Marriage Contract
Romantic Suspense
Between Dusk and Dawn
Non-Fiction
Lights! Camera! Fiction! A Movie Lover’s Guide to Writing a Novel
Sneak Peek
Bad Boy of Madison County
1st book in the series: The Bridges of Madison County
by
Val Daniels/Alfie Thompson
Published by Waverly Rd
Copyright 2012 Vivian A. Thompson
Available February 2012 @ Amazon.com
Bad Boy of Madison County
by
Alfie Thompson/Val Daniels
Chapter One
The plane fell out of the sky. He didn't.
Ian Campbell shook his head, as if trying to get rid of his thoughts, got out of his chair, rambled around his disastrous living room looking for...something--he wasn't sure what--then returned to his chair.
He needed to do something. He didn't know what, anymore than he knew why he'd gotten up a minute ago. But the fact that he hadn't been on that plane when it had fallen out of the sky, kept him from doing anything. Or thinking about anything else.
Why? Why hadn't he been on that plane?
"Why not?"
That's what he'd said to himself--aloud--as he realized he was in the right place at the right time thirteen days ago.
"We're in an oversold situation here. We're accepting volunteers," the gate agent had said into her little telephone that she held just to her mouth, not to her ear, "for a free ticket to anywhere we fly in the continental United States," she'd added like a rah-rah cheerleader. "The only thing you have to do is wait for the next flight out, later this afternoon. So if you aren't in a big hurry to get to L.A. or your plans are flexible, please come see me at the desk."
She'd put down the handset and looked at him and said, "What can I do for you?" as he'd said, "Why not?"
"What?" she'd asked, her frown turning into a smile when she actually focused on him. Most women did smile when they looked at him for more than a glimpse. And he didn't hesitate to take advantage of that interest when he got it.
"Why not?" he repeated, flashing his pearly whites. "I'm in no hurry. I'll wait for the next flight." He handed her his ticket.
"You're volunteering?"
"Especially if you'll give me a better seat next go round." That was why he was standing in line to talk to her in the first place. He wanted one of those seats with the extra leg room since his 6'3" frame didn't fit worth a damn in those skinny little rows airplane manufacturers made for midgets. "I was hoping you'd get me a better seat on this flight, but..." He shrugged, flirting with his eyes. "I'm in no big hurry. Why not take your free ticket?"
She grinned and took his ticket. "Why not, indeed? And I'll bet you want the exit row?" She looked him up and as far down as the tall counter would let her. She started punching info into the computer terminal in front of her. "I can't assign your seat on the next flight right now," she added, frowning at the screen, "but I'll get you something better than this." She glanced at his current ticket again. "Much better."
"Can I give the ticket to anyone I want or do I have to use it."
”Have to use it? What's the matter?" She grinned, visibly checking out his ring finger. "You a homebody or something? Or just not like to fly?"
"I've been about everywhere I want to be for awhile." And afraid to fly? That amused him.
He'd been on his way to see his sister. Molly'd sent him his ticket, knowing it was the only way she'd get him to come to Godforsaken California. She'd been begging him to come to meet her new boyfriend. He'd finally given in. Reluctantly. He was sick of being away from home--such as it was.
He glanced around his 'home’ now--the living room of his rented furnished trailer. Until the past thirteen days, he'd been content enough here. And until these past thirteen days--when the plane he hadn't been on had fallen out of the sky--he'd been content to pretend he'd get around to finding himself some sort of life.
In any similar mood in the past, he would have headed to the bar, caught up with a friend or two or three, got drunk, probably got laid, and gone to work without giving his mood another thought.
Jason Gidrich, his most reliable friend, had been by every day trying to co
ax him out to do just that. But now, the thought of going anywhere: to work or to the bar or out to chase women no longer appealed. What the heck was wrong with him? Those things were exactly what he needed.
But he couldn't go to work. Some wacko reporter had gotten Ian’s name somehow, found out where he worked and had decided it was his reporter’s job to follow Ian around. "What does it feel like to know you're the only one spared?" the worse-than-a-buzzing fly irritant had asked him the minute he'd found him. And idiot had brought more reporters with him the next time, all of them wanting to know how Ian felt. So he'd quit his job.
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