Danger Deception Devotion The Firsts

by Lorhainne Eckhart

  She held the bouquet of wildflowers Hazel had brought. When the doors to the church opened and Margaret looked down the aisle, there was Joe in a dark suit, his hair slicked back, with Ryan beside him. She gasped when she took in all four of his brothers, tall, hunky, and standing shoulder to shoulder. “Oh, my Lord, those brothers of his are going to have all the women fighting each other to get to them,” she said.

  Stan just patted her hand. “They have been for years, honey, but one of them is now off the market for good.”

  “You got that right,” she said with a laugh.

  “You ready?” Stan asked.

  “More than ready,” she replied, and she started down the aisle to become Mrs. Joe Wilde.

  THE END

  Next in the Wilde Brothers, The Honeymoon.

  --“I loved this novella! It's sweet, romantic, and at times, LOL funny. This is the second book in The Wilde Brothers series. Joe is one of the five, oh-so-gorgeous, Wilde brothers. He and Margaret have been married for two days and it's now time for them to go on their honeymoon trip. Unknown to Margaret, Joe has planned for the two of them to go camping.” – Reviewer, Reading Fanatic

  --“This was really funny, and kind of sweet. Different people's reactions to the honeymoon camping trip that Joe planned for Margaret had me laughing out loud.”-- Reviewer, Jigsaw Girl

  In THE HONEYMOON, when Joe Wilde surprises his new bride, Margaret, with a honeymoon, she is speechless—but not from surprise! The honeymoon is nothing like what she expected, not a sandy beach someplace hot, not even a romantic cruise. Instead, Joe wants to take her camping in the middle of nowhere.

  Margaret has her doubts, especially when Joe ignores her worries about the trip. She soon wonders, should she be running the other way?

  The Wilde Brothers in order:

  THE ONE

  THE HONEYMOON

  FRIENDLY FIRE

  NOT QUITE MARRIED

  A MATTER OF TRUST

  THE RECKONING

  TRADED *Available March 31, 2015

  UNFORGIVEN *Available August 11, 2015

  --“Read the whole thing in one day. A page turner from start to finish. Makes me wish I lived in Idaho.” – Diane

  In FRIENDLY FIRE, after a roadside bomb ends his career in the marines, Logan Wilde struggles to put his life back together. When he takes a job as a sheriff in a small Idaho town, he expects a quiet, peaceful life that will bore him to tears. However, Logan hides a painful secret: He suffers from sleepless nights and flashbacks that come out of nowhere, and anything can be a trigger.

  From the moment the new sheriff walks through the door of Julia Cooper’s cafe, she fights the attraction between them, especially after Logan shoots a carafe right from her hands when he’s startled by a car backfiring in the street outside. Julia has seen that wild look before: She saw it in her father’s eyes right before he shoved a gun to his head and killed himself.

  Julia decides she needs to meet someone average, someone who has never handled a gun. Everyone is convinced that her daughter’s teacher is the perfect match for her, but when she’s with him, she misses the sparks that always sizzle between her and Logan—and when her daughter goes missing, it’s Logan who’s there for her, Logan who searches with her, and Logan she leans on. Worse, Logan suspects that the teacher knows something about the disappearance, and he may not be the safe, dependable guy Julia believes him to be.

  Not Quite Married: Logan has his work cut out for him in getting Julia to Altar.

  A Matter of Trust: If Ben Wilde is sure of one thing, it’s that Carrie Richardson is trouble.

  The Reckoning, A Wilde Brothers Christmas – Some Scars just don’t heal

  Traded: (Jake) Jake has two loves. But neither is going his way.

  And for news on upcoming books, giveaways and special promotions , click here to sign up for my Newsletter.

  Book 2: The Forgotten Child

  The Outsider Series, Book 1

  Praise for The Forgotten Child…

  --“I have a child who has been diagnosed on the autism spectrum and this book, though briefly, touched on the symptoms! It made me cry and laugh! Your child, no matter the circumstance, comes first!”

  --“I loved the story line the child and the father learning about his child and deciding to get the child help. And his falling for Em was an added bonus because she was a very loving and caring mother who could not only love her own child but this sweet autistic boy as well.”

  --“A wonderful love story that not only is about the unconditional love between a man and woman, but an unconditional heart -filled love for a special child.”

  --“I don’t normally read romance books, but this has changed my opinion. Very well written and hard to put down.”

  --“As the parent of a child with autism I can attest that the story-line about a child with autism, their parents and the people who love them is very much on target. The love story is a big bonus.”

  Chapter One

  Every woman, at one time in her life, will experience the phrase, I had an epiphany. Well, that’s exactly what happened this particular spring morning. Emily Nelson’s eyes popped open just as the sliver of light, at the break of dawn, crept up the horizon; and, for a moment, there was peace. Until she blinked a couple of times and reality set in. She glimpsed the lump beside her in their king-size bed—her husband, Bob. Emily pushed her thick, dark hair back, and slid to the side of the bed. She was hit by an irritating turmoil, an unwelcome friend, twisting up her insides as if wringing out a wet rag. Not even a shred of interest remained for the man she once loved. She’d more empathy for the crotchety old geezer at the end of the street.

  So what made this morning different? She didn’t know how to explain this awakening, this unfolding, from deep inside some place she thought had long since been closed and sealed off. Find some courage. Believe enough in herself, and then she’d soon be living a life that was hers, for the first time, filled with an amazing peace and hope. And that’s what compelled Emily to shake off her 10-year funk, throw her thin, pale legs over the side of the bed, and get up.

  Emily, a 35-year-old, average-looking mother and wife, slipped into the ugly brown bathrobe her husband bought her this past Christmas. The one he meant to give his mother but got confused after he wrapped them, since the boxes were identical. His mother got the old lady polyester pants with the elastic waistband meant for Emily, so she supposed she got the better of the deal.

  She held her breath when she chanced a glance at Bob, who lay softly snoring on his side of the big bed; the fact he was still asleep eased her anxiety. Emily suppressed a sigh of relief. She had no interest in spending time in a room with this man, any more than the grumpy old geezer up the street. Maybe that was why the knot in her tummy loosened when she left the room and stood outside their daughter’s door. Katy, her blonde two-year-old beauty, was sleeping like an angel in the bedroom across the hall, in their average, very plain, box-style rented bungalow. Emily tiptoed across the cheap neutral-colored carpeting, the same quality you see in most rental homes, which showed every stain imaginable, even after shampooing year after year. She pressed her hand on the doorframe and pulled Katy’s door closed so she wouldn’t hear Emily at this early hour. Five a.m. was her personal time, when her head was clear, when her creative juices flowed, when she faced reality and could make the tough decisions with absolute clarity.

  Today’s the day. When he comes down, I’ll say it. Her gut twisted, but she knew that it was nothing more than fear of the unknown. She couldn’t wait anymore; it had to be today. It was past time and she knew she’d ignored this decision for too long. The signs were all around her—they had been for months. Now, with no chance to think it to death or get cold feet, the floor squeaked as his heavy footsteps thumped down the hall toward her. Her skin chilled and she had a buzzing sensation in her ears, as if the floor were about to drop out from beneath her feet. Bob, her husband of twelve years, shuffled into the kitchen past her
as she leaned against the counter. What made it worse was the way that he looked away, as if to dismiss her; a woman of no importance.

  “It’s over between us.” Wow, she’d said it. Her courage wavered, but she crossed her arms over her small breasts and stood her ground, feeling enormous in the bulky robe even though she kept her body slim with womanly curves.

  Bob turned and, for the first time in months, he really looked at her. His dirty blond hair was gelled and impeccably groomed. His pale face was flushed and his icy blue eyes appeared so dull and tiny in his round face. His body was ordinary, average height and build—a man who wouldn’t stand out in a crowd. She felt nothing for him, just a hardness; whatever love had been was now long dead and gone.

  Time stretched out painfully; it took an eternity to pump the blood through her body, roaring louder and louder in her ears between breaths. Bob turned away. He poured himself a cup of the coffee she’d freshly brewed, dismissing her again. He’d mastered that skill long ago, hammering her pride down a little further each and every day. No wonder it took an act of sheer courage for Emily to look strangers in the eye. Hadn’t her dad done it to her own mom?

  “You know we haven’t had a marriage for a long time, Bob. There are no feelings left between us. We don’t communicate, and Katy’s picking up on the tension in this house.”

  He dropped his mug on the counter, and fired off his delusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think you’re the one with the problem. Katy’s fine if you’re not around.” His words stung, even though Emily knew it wasn’t true. Why didn’t she expect this? Because her mind didn’t play those kinds of games, that’s why.

  “No, Katy is not fine. You’re always yelling at her. You won’t spend time with her. When you’re home, you sit in front of the TV 24/7. You do nothing to help me.”

  Shouting, he stepped toward her, “You know what I think this is really about? Money! It’s your fault that we have no money!”

  Okay here we go. She’d expected an attack. He was really good at twisting things to his way of thinking. This man she’d married, at one time loved, had become an unwelcome stranger. “I think it has to do with no communication,” Emily rebutted. “The only time I know what’s new with you, is when I overhear you on the phone. You know… those nightly conversations with your mother. And come to think of it, that’s part of the problem. The only relationship you have is with your mother. And it’s just plain weird. You’re not a child. Grow up. It’s disturbing that you talk to her about what’s going on in your life, and not me. If you were being honest with yourself, you’d admit you’ve made no attempt to have a relationship with me. And I’ve ignored how you’ve treated me for years.”

  Emily held up the flat of her trembling hand, unable to stop her mouth from spewing everything she’d suppressed for so long. She continued, “You’ve always had this strange relationship with your mom. What’s really sick, is that I’ve had to stoop to eavesdropping when you’re on the phone with her—just to find out your latest news. A vacation you’re planning with friends of yours. A new job you’re applying for in Seattle. Taking a few courses at night school. Don’t you think that as your wife I have a right to know about these things?”

  He dumped his coffee down the sink. His face hardened into someone she didn’t know. “It wasn’t as if I was hiding it from you, but you’re sure happy to launch a war with my family. You could have just asked.”

  Emily shut her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. Katy would be awake soon, and Bob needed to leave for work. “This is going nowhere,” she said. “I’m not going to keep fighting with you. I’d like you to move out. Take whatever you want.”

  He didn’t answer her. What he did instead was grab his coat and storm out the door, slamming it behind him hard enough to rattle the double-paned windows. But apparently he wasn’t done with his temper tantrum, because he followed up by gunning the engine of their two-door rusted Cavalier; the tires squealing down the driveway. In her room, Katy screamed. Across the street, lights came on in the front window of the Hanson’s house. Great! Now she needed to apologize for Bob disturbing them, before six a.m., with his irresponsible behavior.

  Emily raced down the hall to comfort her daughter, furious at Bob for yet another mess he’d created for her to clean up. Except this time, it didn’t stick—the mad, that is. With the words finally out of her, Emily felt the dark, oppressive weight lifting from her shoulders, leaving her with a light peaceful feeling flowing through her body. You know, the feeling you get when you know you’ve finally done the right thing. Even though she had no money, no job, a child, and no idea how she’d make ends meet... still, the right thing. A dismal sounding outcome, but for the first time in years, Emily Nelson felt the sun shoot out a powerful ray of hope.

  Chapter Two

  The morning hadn’t gone as planned. Emily’s faced glowed as she reached down to pick up the morning paper. It hadn’t quite made it to the curb, forcing her to step out into the street, close to where the Hansons were out digging up their yard. She’d apologized yesterday, and even though they’d been gracious in their response; Emily still felt responsible for Bob’s childish behavior. And it was Mr. Hanson, not Mrs. Hanson, who’d questioned Emily on what had upset Bob. This left Emily feeling cornered; so she’d confessed she’d asked Bob to leave. This left them frowning, and speechless, which wasn’t a good thing.

  “Hello,” was all she could say this morning, before darting back into the house. She didn’t make eye contact because she didn’t want to explain more. Mr. Hanson could talk her ear off, and, by now, he’d most likely have a few choice words of advice to share with her.

  Emily leaned against the closed door. In her chest, a nightmarish pressure began building and pressing, stronger and harder—until the simple art of breathing became a gigantic struggle. It was her head, her mind, creating the problems. She’d fall flat on her face. She couldn’t make it alone. How would she look after Katy? What if she couldn’t get a job? Instead of focusing on the present, her thoughts jumped from the past to the future with what ifs, could haves, and should haves. “Stop it!” She kicked a pink, fluffy stuffed animal across the room, and stubbed her little toe on the corner of the table. “Ah, crap.” She hopped on one foot, exhaling sharply. After a minute she hobbled to the kitchen counter.

  She should have started looking for a job yesterday, right after she’d asked Bob to leave. But she didn’t because of a whole pile of excuses. Katy had been cranky all day after waking up so early after Bob’s tantrum. Then she had to feed, bathe and put Katy to bed, all before Bob, still moody, dragged his sorry ass through the door; telling her he’d found a furnished apartment in Olympia during his lunch hour. He’d move out over the weekend. She'd almost shouted, “Hallelujah!”

  But now, this morning, Emily felt the after-effects of an adrenaline rush; maybe that’s why she was in such a crappy mood. She muttered a curse as she opened the damp newspaper to the classified section. The Help Wanted ads were sparse today: the feed store, the market. The one that stood out was the one in bold at the bottom of the page:

  Wanted: Caregiver and Cook

  Duties include day-to-day care of a young child.

  “I can do that.” She slapped the paper and glanced up at Katy, who was watching Dora on TV as she snuggled with her blanket on the sofa. Emily reached behind her and snatched up the cordless telephone. She paused, pressing the top of the telephone to her forehead, as a sinking fear that she’d fail tried to insinuate its way into her; draining away all her newfound courage. “Knock it off, just call.” Emily ran her finger over the ad and dialed the number. Her heart was pounding so hard that it hurt her chest. Her hand shook as adrenaline soared through her veins. To release the rapidly building tension, she paced through the kitchen and living room.

  “Hello.” An older woman’s voice chimed on the other end.

  “Hi, I’m calling about the ad in the paper—for a caregiver and cook.”

  “Oh,
yes, that would be Brad you’d want to talk to. Just hang on a second and let me get him.” Unfortunately, the wait for Brad to come on the line allowed the irritable voice in Emily’s head to creep in and fill her with doubts. What do you think you’re doing? You’re not qualified. Sweating, she was tempted to hang up when she heard the man’s deep baritone voice.

  “Hello.”

  Along with being tongue-tied, Emily’s dry throat threatened to close up. She swallowed the hard lump and licked her lips. “Hi, my name’s Emily Nelson; I’m calling about your ad in the paper for a caregiver and cook for a child.” She winced when her voice squeaked.

  “It’s for my son Trevor, he’s three. I run a ranch and need someone to look after him and to also do the cooking.”

  “Are you still interviewing for the position?”

  “I am, but I need someone right away. I have a ranch to run. If you’re interested, could you come out to the Ranch?”

  He was abrupt. Straight to the point, and that made it easier for Emily.

  “I’m interested, but I should tell you that I have a two-year-old who’ll be with me at work.” He said nothing. In that nanosecond, Emily felt the impending rejection. And that awful voice in Emily’s head chimed in: No, I don’t think it’ll work. I need someone without kids.

  But instead, Brad said: “Could you be here at nine tomorrow morning?” This she didn’t expect.

  “Nine, no problem I’ll be there.” Emily had committed to a time she knew darn well wouldn’t work; Katy had a checkup scheduled with her pediatrician tomorrow at nine. How was she going to do both? How stupid and desperate was that? Say something. But she didn’t. She swallowed, and continued scribbling down the address, along with rough directions to the ranch, on the back of her overdue electric bill. It was not far from town, maybe a twenty-minute drive.