The Kings Meadow Romance Collection

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  It surprised her that she’d had the courage to say yes to Walter. Not only to marriage but to leaving the Leonard ranch, leaving Kings Meadow, leaving Idaho. A new adventure.

  She smiled at her reflection in the mirror.

  Life itself was an adventure. With God lighting the way ahead, she could walk bravely into the future, wherever it took her. The Lord had sustained and blessed her through the last fifty-four years. He would sustain and bless her through however many years were yet to come.

  Thirty-four

  THE FIRST DAY OF THE LEONARDS’ NEW GLAMPING enterprise passed in a blur of activity. There’d scarcely been a moment to breathe, let alone think. But now their guests had been fed and were settling in at Cabin #1. Chet heard Irena invite Kimberly to stay and talk awhile. More about the job, he assumed. So he rode back with Sam, leaving his truck for Kimberly and Tara.

  Restless and feeling the need to be alone, he saddled his horse and rode up the mountainside, headed to the plateau where he’d intended to propose to Kimberly.

  Too late now.

  Not everybody was cut out to live in a place like Kings Meadow. Not everybody was meant to be a rancher, either. Or a rancher’s wife. He’d always known that. And yet, he’d hoped. Maybe he’d been wrong to hope.

  At the plateau, he didn’t dismount. He stayed in the saddle, staring across the valley. The evening shadows were growing long, but he could still make out the location of Cabin #1 in the distance. The pale canvas tent made it easier to find.

  Was Kimberly still there with her friends? Were they telling stories and making her long for Seattle and the life she’d once had? Maybe she’d never stopped longing for that life. Maybe he’d fooled himself into thinking she had or ever could.

  When his marriage had come apart, he’d tried for a long time to hold onto the wife who didn’t love him, the woman who didn’t want him or the life he could give her. Marsha had hated the ranch, hated him, in the end. He couldn’t allow himself to make that same mistake with Kimberly. He wouldn’t try to make her want to be here, to be with him. She had to want it on her own.

  God, You’re going to have to get me through this. Right now, it doesn’t feel like I’ll know how.

  Sounds from the forest intruded. He twisted in the saddle in time to see Kimberly ride her mare out of the trees. She was gripping the saddle horn hard, nervous but determined. He could see that from where he was.

  “Kimberly?”

  She gave him a weak smile.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  Did he want to hear what she had to say? Not likely. All the same, he felt proud of her for riding her horse all this way. She’d never ridden this far before.

  “How did you find me?” He dismounted and stepped toward her.

  “Sam came with me most of the way. He said this is where you come to sort things out when you don’t know what to do.”

  “He said that, did he?” Chet took hold of the mare’s reins near the bit and waited for Kimberly to slip down from the saddle. “He knows his dad.”

  “I’ve come to know you rather well myself.”

  Why was she here? To torture him?

  “Chet, you’ve done your best to avoid or ignore me all day.”

  “No, I—” he started, then closed his mouth on the lie.

  She took his hand and led him toward the edge of the plateau, her gaze taking in the stunning view of the valley below. “I can see why you come up here to think. It’s beautiful.”

  You’re beautiful.

  She turned and faced him, her nearness forcing her to look up and him to look down. “Do you know what I was doing before the Wainrights got here? I was praying. Really praying. About everything. But especially about you.”

  His heart seemed to stop.

  “Especially about us.”

  It started up again.

  “Chet, I’ve been a fool not to say this to you before. I have to say it now, before it’s too late.” She inhaled deeply, then met his gaze again. “I love you. Surely you must know that.”

  “But that job in Seattle. It’s the life you wanted to go back to.”

  “I’m not interested in a job that would take me away from you.” Her smile warmed him. “Did you hear me say I love you?”

  “I heard.” He took hold of her upper arms, staring hard into her eyes. “But are you sure you want to stay?”

  WAS SHE SURE? WHAT A QUESTION. KIMBERLY HAD never been more certain of anything in her life. Couldn’t he see that?

  She grinned at him. “I rode all the way up here. On a horse, for pity’s sake. Of course I’m sure.” Then she rose up on tiptoe while drawing his head toward her and let her kiss tell him what words could not.

  When the kiss ended, Chet didn’t let her pull away. Instead, he drew her close, her cheek resting against his chest, his chin pressing lightly on the top of her head. She listened to the beating of his heart, in perfect time with her own, and suddenly she felt like crying for joy. This was almost more happiness than one person could stand.

  “I love you, Kimberly. Marry me.”

  Okay, now it was more happiness than one person could stand.

  “Will you?” he whispered.

  “Yes,” she whispered in return. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  He kissed her again, long and sweet and tender, and she let the happy tears fall. The end of the kiss was made salty by them.

  “I love you.” He cradled her head between his hands. “It’s a love without end, Kimberly.” His eyes were full of the promise.

  She smiled, hearing the melody of the song that had suddenly become theirs, and whispered, “Amen.”

  A Letter from the Author

  DEAR FRIENDS

  When I wrote about Kings Meadow in A Promise Kept, I had no intention of returning there for more stories. My calendar called for me to begin a new historical series. But Kings Meadow had gone deep into my heart, and I didn’t want to let go yet. I was especially pleased that reviewers often mentioned the setting with great fondness, one even saying that they wanted to go live there. That’s how I feel about it too. To be honest, I owed Chet Leonard a second chance at a happy ending after the grief I put him through in A Promise Kept.

  Second chances. Don’t you love them? I do. My life has been littered with mistakes and wrong thinking or wrong choices, and without the second chances God has given me, the results would be rather sad.

  My mom and dad were thirty-four and forty-one when they met. Both had been married and divorced. Because of those failures in marriage, they had a better idea what they were looking for in a spouse. My dad proposed to my mom on their second date. He always said he would have proposed sooner if he hadn’t been so shy.

  Is it any wonder I’m a romantic? Love at first sight is in my DNA.

  Something I discovered for myself is that the crazy physical feelings that come with falling in love—fast heartbeat, dry throat, dizzy head, roller coaster drops of the stomach—aren’t only for the young. They are the same for the young at heart, no matter a person’s physical age. Thankfully, being in love isn’t quite so hard on a person as the falling in love. The settled comfort that comes with true commitment to a lifetime together is a blessing.

  Now that Chet has found his HEA (Happily Ever After) with Kimberly, I hope you’ll join me in Kings Meadow once again in the spring of 2015 for Whenever You Come Around. I’m busy giving grief to another couple who just might get a second chance of their own.

  Happy Reading!

  Robin Lee Hatcher

  www.robinleehatcher.com

  To Jerry, with love.

  Official Web Site of Kings Meadow, Idaho

  KINGS MEADOW WELCOMES YOU.

  Tucked away in the mountains north of Boise, Idaho, Kings Meadow (population 2,893) is rich in history. The first white man to enter this valley was a miner named John Leonard. Having failed to find his fortune panning for gold, he chose to raise cattle, knowing that the me
n and women pouring into the Boise Basin in search of wealth needed to eat and would want his beef. The year was 1864. The Leonards have continued to ranch in this valley for the past 150+ years, raising beef cattle well into the twentieth century. Now the ranch is renowned for its champion quarter horses.

  One of the local legends was a man by the name of Zeb McHenry who also came to Idaho Territory in the early days of the Boise Basin Gold Rush. Little is known about him after he left the area in 1865. However, it was McHenry who introduced this lush, green valley and the cattle raised by John Leonard to the miners in the Boise Basin. Hikers and horseback riders can still see the remains of McHenry’s cabin and sluice box.

  In 1866, the town of Kings Meadow was founded on the south-west end of the valley. Folklore says the name “Kings” was chosen because of an unfinished chess game between John Leonard and Zeb McHenry.

  Residents and visitors love the beauty of nature that surrounds the valley during the summer and winter. Pine-covered mountains rise to about 7,000 feet above sea level on all sides. Hot springs abound. The tranquil Gold Queen River winds its way from east to west; after leaving the valley, it merges with the South Fork of the Payette River, famous for its whitewater. Wildlife is abundant.

  In Kings Meadow, horses can still be found tied up outside the local watering holes, and formal attire for weddings may include boots and cowboy hats.

  Come and visit us. We’ll make you feel at home.

  Chapter 1

  CHARITY ANDERSON PULLED INTO THE DRIVEWAY OF her parents’ home early on a Wednesday morning. The wood shutters were closed over all the main-floor windows. Her parents might as well have put up a sign: Owners Away! Help Yourselves! Then again, this was Kings Meadow. Neighbors looked out for neighbors and their property. It wasn’t like in the city where you could live next door to people for a decade and not even know their names.

  Taking a deep breath, she exited her automobile. Cocoa, her brindle-colored dog—a Heinz 57 mixed breed with a stocky body and short coat—jumped out right behind her and began to sniff around.

  “Your nose must think it’s in heaven.” Charity headed for the front door. “Come on, girl. Let’s check things out.”

  The calendar said June, but the cold, dreary interior of the darkened house felt more like February. The first thing Charity did was turn up the thermostat to get some heat pumping into the rooms. The next was to open all of the shutters to let in the light.

  “Well now, that helps. Doesn’t seem quite as desolate, does it?”

  She stopped a moment and looked around, realizing it was the first time she’d ever stayed here by herself. It would feel strange without either her parents or her older sister, Terri, for company. Their parents were on a three-month tour of Europe and the Mediterranean. “The trip of a lifetime,” her mom had called it. “We’re finally going.” Her parents had scrimped and saved for the extended tour for the last thirty-five years.

  As for Terri, she lived with her husband and daughter near Sun Valley, close to a three-hour drive from Kings Meadow. Charity didn’t expect to see much of her over the summer.

  “Well, I’m not in Kings Meadow for visiting, anyway,” she said to Cocoa, who was exploring the house as if she’d never been in it before. “I guess you haven’t been here often. Have you, girl?”

  A desperate need for solitude and silence had brought Charity to Kings Meadow. Her Victorian-era home on the Boise River—the one she’d bought several years earlier because of its charm and interesting floor plan—had been flooded this spring when the river overflowed its banks. The water damage had been serious enough, but the cleanup had also revealed significant structural issues that would require months of remodeling work.

  Maybe you shouldn’t have bought the place without getting another inspection. Maybe you shouldn’t make snap decisions all the time. Maybe if you’d follow Mom’s advice every now and then . . .

  “I’m trying,” she whispered, “but it isn’t easy.”

  Setting her jaw, she threw off her troubled thoughts and headed up the stairs. The second-floor bedroom she’d shared with her sister up until Terri got married—right out of high school—hadn’t changed much. It still bore many of the traces of teenaged girls—possessions Terri and Charity hadn’t wanted to take with them when they moved out, things their mother had been unable to get rid of.

  She picked up a glass figurine from the nightstand and turned it over in the palm of her hand. She’d won the crystal horse at the fair the summer before her senior year. The whole family had been there that night—Mom and Dad; Terri and her husband, Rick, and their new baby; and Charity. She remembered the lights from the carnival rides, the loud music, the smells of hamburgers, grilled onions, and chorizos along Food Row, and the laughter. Lots and lots of laughter.

  The pleasant memories made Charity smile as she unpacked her suitcases, placing some clothes in the old chest of drawers and hanging other items in the closet. There wasn’t a lot of room in the latter. It had become a storage area for whatever size clothes her mother couldn’t fit into at present.

  When Charity’s suitcases were emptied at last, she stowed them under her old bed. As she straightened, she looked out the window . . . and saw Buck Malone exit the house next door.

  Buck Malone.

  Her heart gave a crazy and unexpected flutter. She hadn’t seen Buck in ages. Not even from a distance. But her old high school classmate—and secret heartthrob—was just as drop-dead gorgeous as he’d ever been. Perhaps more so. His shoulders were broader, and he looked taller too. Was he taller or was it a figment of her imagination?

  Stop it, she mentally berated herself. It didn’t matter. Buck was no one to her now. Just someone from her distant past. One of many someones from her distant past.

  She watched him get into an old beater truck. The engine started, and in moments he’d pulled out of the driveway. Only after he was out of sight did she realize she’d begun to shake. Something dark and familiar lurked in her memory, and it took all of her resolve to block it out again. Weak in the knees, she sank onto the edge of the bed.

  Breathe. Just breathe. It’s all right. You’re okay. You’re safe.

  Bit by bit, she willed her trembling hands to still, her heart to calm. These terrible feelings, these black thoughts and feared memories, were why she avoided coming home as much as possible. They were why she’d cut herself off from lifelong friends, why she’d erected barriers between herself and the people she loved. She hated the sense of being emotionally out of control. Better to stay away from Kings Meadow than to feel this way.

  Only she didn’t have a choice right now. Not really. Not with her house in complete disarray—hammers hammering, saws sawing, drills drilling for nine hours or more every day. Not with a book due all too soon at her publishers. Her parents’ empty home had been the perfect and only logical answer to her dilemma.

  She drew in another deep breath through her nose. Better. Much better. The shaking had stopped. Her pulse no longer raced. She could do this.

  Rising from the bed, she saw Cocoa seated in the bedroom doorway, watching her with a patient gaze. “Guess we’d better think about stocking the refrigerator so we don’t go hungry. Let’s go to the store.”

  Her dog knew what “Let’s go” meant. Cocoa raced down the stairs and danced around impatiently until Charity caught up with her, purse slung over her shoulder. When Charity opened the door, the dog dashed outside and sniffed around the yard a bit before meeting her at the car.

  Gazing fondly at the panting animal, Charity chuckled. “You’re a silly girl, aren’t you?” She leaned over and affectionately scrubbed behind the dog’s ears. With a groan, Cocoa melted against her leg.

  Charity’s heart melted too. She loved this dog more than she’d thought possible. She’d rescued Cocoa from the shelter when she was an awkward-looking pup of about eight months old. Charity had been told the puppy was to be destroyed in three more days if no one adopted her. Maybe the girl at th
e shelter had known a soft touch when she saw one or maybe she’d spoken the truth. Whatever. Charity had left the shelter with Cocoa on a leash. She’d never been sorry for it either. The dog might not be beautiful in show terms—she was definitely not a purebred anything and part of her right ear had been torn off in a fight at the shelter—but she was smart as a whip and loved her mistress as much as Charity loved her. One-dog woman had met one-woman dog.

  “Come on, then.” She opened the car door and Cocoa jumped into the driver’s seat, hopped over the console, and sat on the passenger side. Charity laughed again. The dog didn’t care where they were going. She just liked to go.

  Wouldn’t things be simpler if we could all be like that?

  The drive to the grocery store in Kings Meadow took less than ten minutes, even with a couple of stop signs between the Anderson home and the market. There was plenty of parking available in the small lot at this time of day. Out of habit she chose a spot farthest from the store entrance where her SUV was less likely to get dinged by other doors. Then she grabbed the leash and fastened it to Cocoa’s collar.

  “Come on, girl. We’ll find you some shade.”

  Charity walked to the front of the store where she slid the leash over a post. “Cocoa, down. Stay.” The dog obediently flopped down. “Good girl.”

  That taken care of, Charity stepped toward the automatic doors, which opened before her. The woman behind the checkout stand immediately looked in her direction. Her eyes widened.

  “Charity Anderson. As I live and breathe. Is that you?”

  “It’s me, Mrs. Cook.”

  “When was the last time you came home, girl?”