“Hello, Mrs. Baxter. How’s your new grandson?”
The woman’s blue-veined hand reached out to grasp Emmy’s forearm as she leaned closer. “He’s fat and beautiful, but it’s you I’m concerned about. How are you holding up, my darling?”
“Wonderful.” Emmy felt a twinge of guilt. People always meant well. She pretended she was on stage and gave the older woman a smile so bright, it should’ve made Mrs. Baxter shield her eyes.
“Now don’t you lie to me.” Mrs. Baxter tightened her grip until it was almost painful. “I’ve lost my lover and I know the agony of being alone.”
Emmy had heard the “lost lover” story dozens of times. She couldn’t handle it today. “Thank you for being so understanding.” She tugged her arm free and gripped her shopping cart. Crisp apples would have to wait. “I’ve got to run. A student will be at my house soon.”
She pushed the cart away, the woman’s final words bouncing off her back. “It will get better!”
Emmy cringed. It had been a year. Nothing had gotten better.
It was an accomplishment to make it to the store or take a shower. The only reason she got out of bed were her students and the theater.
Crash! Her cart came to an abrupt halt as she rounded the corner and slammed into another patron’s grocery cart. The impact knocked her off balance, propelling her sideways into a cereal display. Boxes of cereal dumped around her feet.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you.” A large hand wrapped around her waist and lifted her out of the mess.
“Thank you.” Emmy turned to look into startling blue eyes. Oh, no. Him. Captain Joshua Campbell. Firefighter extraordinaire. Town goldenboy. Wasn’t Mrs. Baxter enough punishment for one day?
She bent and retrieved several boxes of Cheerios, praying he’d go away. But no, always the gentleman, he grabbed the Lucky Charms and helped her fix the display. It was impossible not to run into each other in this small town, and she’d observed him doing everything from comforting a toddler who had dropped his ice cream cone to changing tires for people stranded on the highway. He was just one of those who were too good to be true and it fueled her anger and cynicism. She recognized that blaming him for Grayson’s death was unreasonable, but he almost brought it on himself—always worrying about her, promising he’d find the murderer. She’d finally accepted the evidence that he couldn’t be the murderer, but she still felt guilty for her feelings of attraction toward Josh before Grayson died. She wanted nothing to do with him.
Thankfully he didn’t say anything while they worked side by side, curious shoppers gawking as they walked past. The air between them was charged like static electricity. Emmy checked to see if her hair stood on end. She hated the awareness she always felt when he appeared. Even though she kept trying to convince herself she wanted nothing to do with him, it was like her body had different ideas. The cereal was organized much too quickly.
She clutched her shopping cart handle and pushed off, ordering her body to forget about it.
His hand on her arm stopped the forward momentum and made her shiver at the pleasant sensation.
“How are you?”
She’d been so proud of herself earlier for meeting Mrs. Baxter’s gaze. She couldn’t do it with Josh. She studied his chin and unfortunately found herself wondering if the stubble would be rough or soft. It looked long enough to be soft and she loved the way it shadowed his face.
No! Stop noticing him.
“It’s really none of your business how I am.” Her voice could’ve cooled hot chocolate.
His hand dropped from her arm. She should’ve felt relief instead of remorse at the loss of his touch.
“Um, I know that,” he said. “I just…worry about you.”
That did it. Her head snapped up and she was able to meet those blue eyes without wanting to melt. “You and everybody else in this town! I. Am. Fine.” She glanced around at several other people she knew, glowering until they resumed their shopping. Except for Mrs. Baxter, who just gave her that compassionate smile.
Emmy turned back to Josh. “Fine. No one needs to worry about me. Especially you.” She poked him in the chest and jammed her finger on the hard musculature. She bit down on the yelp that wanted to escape, ignored his whipped puppy look, and shoved her shopping cart away. He was the last person on earth who needed to worry about her.
Buy or read more of Shadows in the Curtain here.
Introduction by Lucy McConnell
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Additional Works by Cami Checketts
About the Author
Excerpt from Shadows in the Curtain
The Rebellious One
The Unfinished Groom
By Taylor Hart
Chapter 1
Lucky—that’s how Hunter James had always described himself. Even while growing up dirt poor on a farm in Texas. Even when he’d found himself in a war zone in Afghanistan. Even before he’d struck it rich in oil and then won the forty acres of horse property in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, in a poker game. He’d always known he’d be rich someday. That’s how life went when you decided to make your own luck. Sitting on his horse, looking out at the Teton Mountains in the distance, he knew someday had arrived.
And he wouldn’t lie, it felt good.
Soaking in the evening sunset, he galloped west toward the one acre that he didn’t own. He’d heard he had new neighbors, and they had finally come to fix up the eyesore at the edge of his property.
About time.
Hunter’s lawyers had petitioned to buy that acre, but it had been protected in some land trust.
Humph.
If his instincts were right, and they usually were, he’d own it by nightfall. He was prepared to offer the right price to the owner.
Coming up to the stream that separated the properties, he hopped off his horse and took the reins, prepared to lead the horse across. It wasn’t deep, but he thought he might as well enjoy himself and take the time to look a bit closer. After all, this stream would be his soon.
“Come back here!”
Hunter hesitated, hearing what sounded like a child’s voice.
“Stupid frog, c’mon. I told Mama I could do it. Don’t make me a liar! Come back!”
A young kid skipped across the stream, barefoot and hunched over. The frog he chased hopped quickly out of reach.
“Get back here!” the boy yelled, not seeing Hunter.
“Son.” Hunter spoke in a firm voice.
The boy, clearly startled, turned and slipped, falling back into the water.
Hunter dropped his horse’s reins and moved swiftly, unable to prevent the boy from falling into the water, but getting there quickly enough to pick him up after only a few seconds.
The boy appeared frightened and tried to wriggle away. “Stranger danger!” he yelled.
A low laugh escaped Hunter’s lips. “Take it easy. Do you want me to help you catch a frog?” He steadied the boy on his feet and let him go.
The boy frowned, hunched over in his soaking clothes, and looked up. His brown hair fell into his eyes. “Who are you?”
Hunter knew he must seem huge to the boy. He cocked an eyebrow. He didn’t know of any kids that lived close by. “Who are you?”
The boy blinked and then swallowed. “I …” He trailed off.
“You’re not supposed to speak to strangers, right?”
The boy’s eyes were still frightened, and Hunter could see his small frame shaking. He nodded.
Hunter put his hand out. “I’m Hunter James, your neighbor. Now, I’m not a stranger.”
&nb
sp; Hesitantly, the boy put his hand out.
Hunter took his hand, shaking it. “You always keep a firm grip, you hear? It’ll make people think you’re certain of yourself even if you’re not.”
The boy’s jaw shut, and he paused before nodding. “I’m Cade Kingston.”
Hunter gave him a gentle shake and released his hand. Recognizing the name Kingston from the legal paperwork, he nodded. “What are you doing out here?”
“I-I …” the boy stuttered.
Hunter wondered if he was still scaring the boy and took a step back. “It’s okay. Can I help you?”
The boy didn’t utter another word, just took off in a flash, racing across the rocks in the stream. “Well,” Hunter muttered. He turned back, moved to Honey, hopped into the saddle, and took off after him.
Hunter didn’t bother trying to catch up with him. Once the boy got out of the trees next to the stream, Hunter could see him dashing toward the house.
The broken-down house had an eyesore of a garden on the west side. He hadn’t been in the house, but he’d seen enough from around the outside to know it hadn’t been loved in a long time. Clicking his tongue, he signaled Honey to slow as he approached the side of the property.
An old white Ford was parked in the weedy driveway in front of the house. A brand-new black Ford F-250 was parked right next to it. Hmm. A couple? None of it made sense. Why would they want this acre, this house? It was so run-down he’d figured he’d mow the house down when he got it. Navigating the slope down to the house, he decided to be polite and go to the front door. He imagined the boy had already told his parents he was coming. Good. Fine. That was all right with Hunter.
A lot of work had been done recently. The garden was actually cleaned out, and it looked like they’d done some planting. The trash around the yard was all picked up, and the front porch had two white wicker chairs and a small table that brightened the place up.
As he got closer, he heard eighties rock pounding out of the windows. He’d always liked eighties rock. Maybe these people would be rational and sane after all. He couldn’t figure out why in the world they would want this home. Granted, the front looked mansion-like with a wraparound porch, weathered brick, and faded black shutters. Each window had flower boxes underneath. At one time, it’d been a fine home. Unfortunately, the outlying buildings of what clearly used to be stables were so old, he was pretty sure if he gave them a firm push they’d topple over.
Stepping onto the porch, he noticed a huge pile of daises on top of the small table. The smell of fresh paint was strong when he reached the front door. Too bad they’d already done all this work. At least the price he would give them would more than compensate them for their sweat equity. Putting up his hand to knock, he heard an explosion of shouting.
“Get out of my house!”
The voice was distinctly female and very ticked off. He held his hand in the air, glad he hadn’t knocked yet. The hair on the back of his neck pricked up. The best and worst thing about his time in the military was he was always ready. He no longer had to tell his body to prepare for a confrontation. His senses had been honed during his special ops training.
In fact, the only hard part these days for Hunter was convincing himself he didn’t need to react, didn’t need to prepare. He spent a lot of nights meditating, but not because, as his friend Cooper teased him, he was the new Jedi master. No. Meditation was the only thing that calmed the beast inside of him. Well, that and poker.
“It was always supposed to be you and me, Summer. Always.” The other voice was male and calm, too calm. “I’m offering you the whole kingdom.”
It was the kind of calm tone Hunter instantly recognized as a bluff.
For a second, nothing happened. Hunter resisted the urge to rip the screen off its hinges and move into the house. He could barely make out the next words.
“I don’t want the kingdom. I never did, Luke.”
Hunter got the distinct impression there was a deeper meaning to their conversation and it was intensely personal.
The voice got louder. “Our history is tied together and so is our future.”
“I asked you to come, remember?” Her voice was tight, controlled.
Silence.
Hunter wanted to leave, but he felt like he was reading a novel. No matter how much you wanted to close the book, you had to see what would happen next.
“You ran before we could work it out with your father.”
“No!” she shouted. “I left because of my father. But you stayed because of him.”
Silence.
Then her voice. “My husband died, and this is the only place I have to go. So I’m here. For Cade. That’s all. So please, just leave.”
Hunter’s heart was in his throat. Hearing the vulnerability, the rawness, of her confession made him feel like an interloper. Taking a step back, his hand went to his side, and he was about to dart off the porch. Clearly, he shouldn’t have come today to visit his new neighbors.
But he was too late.
The sound of a door opening and feet shuffling, and an excited voice.
“Mama, Mama!”
“Cade, go outside, sweetie.”
“Mama! There’s a man at the front door.”
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The Independent One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance Page 16
