by Joan Kilby
A place called Hope
Hayley Sorenson uses horses to help people heal. But when neighbor Adam Banks asks for her expertise with his teenage daughter, she says no. How can she get involved when all she sees is their past? And the attraction Hayley feels for Adam makes her anything but objective!
Yet Adam isn’t deterred, and in getting to know the woman they call the horse whisperer, he realizes that she’s dealing with her own pain. As Hayley etches a place in Adam’s heart, all he wants is to give her the home she truly deserves.
Adam’s deep voice betrayed nothing but sincerity
So much generosity was overwhelming, especially in the face of her standoffishness. “It’s kind of you but I can’t accept.”
“Why not? Give me one good reason.”
Hayley’s hand hovered over the key in the ignition, itching to turn it. She didn’t have a good reason. But she had her pride. “You don’t even know me and you’re inviting me to live in your cottage.”
“Not knowing you is all the more reason to keep a close eye on the therapist who’s treating my daughter. What do you say? You’d, of course, be free to come and go, and do whatever you normally do.”
It was so tempting. Her garage would be cold and dark even with candles. But accepting would mean admitting she was a stone’s throw from being homeless. “No. Thank you, but no.”
“Why not? It makes sense. I have this big house and a cottage and you’re toughing it out in a garage.”
Ah, he felt guilty. Why should she care? His guilt wasn’t her problem.
Dear Reader,
In the summer of 2009, my home state of Victoria was caught in the grip of devastating bushfires known as Black Saturday. People not from Australia might think the term “bush” means small bushes, but it can also mean the forest. The toll from Black Saturday was horrendous: one hundred and seventy-three human lives were lost and over two thousand homes destroyed, plus countless livestock and wildlife.
Home to Hope Mountain isn’t about death and destruction, though. It’s about survival and recovery and the resilience of the human spirit. It’s about the ability of the land to regenerate. And about a small community that pulls together to put the tragic past behind them and rebuild their lives. It’s about the power of love to heal and to renew hope for the future.
Although I’ve drawn on stories of the bushfires, neither the town of Hope Mountain nor any characters or their experiences are based on real places or people.
The Horses For Hope program is real, however, and does amazing work for people suffering from a variety of mental health issues. It was this program and not the fires that was the inspiration for this book. I hope I’ve done the program, and the amazing bond between horses and humans, justice in my portrayal. I’ve taken liberties with the program’s method of funding for plot purposes. Any other inaccuracies are inadvertent.
Thanks to Colin Emonson for answering my many questions and explaining how the therapy works. For more information go to www.horsesforhope.org.au/.
I love to hear from readers. To drop me a line, or to find out more about my books, go to www.joankilby.com.
Warm regards,
Joan Kilby
JOAN
KILBY
Home to Hope Mountain
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
When Joan Kilby isn’t writing her next Harlequin Superromance title, she loves to travel, often to Asia which is right on Australia’s doorstep, so to speak. Now that her three children are grown, she and her husband enjoy the role reversal of taking off and leaving the kids to take care of the house and pets.
Books by Joan Kilby
HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE
1212—HOMECOMING WIFE
1224—FAMILY MATTERS
1236—A MOM FOR CHRISTMAS
1324—PARTY OF THREE
1364—BEACH BABY
1437—NANNY MAKES THREE
1466—HOW TO TRAP A PARENT
1681—HER GREAT EXPECTATIONS*
1687—IN HIS GOOD HANDS*
1693—TWO AGAINST THE ODDS*
1772—PROTECTING HER SON
1808—TO BE A FAMILY
1839—MAYBE THIS TIME
*Summerside Stories
Other titles by this author available in ebook format.
To the victims, human and animal, of bushfires.
To the brave firefighters and emergency workers who put their lives on the line in times of extreme danger.
And to the survivors who rebuild their lives with courage and hope.
Contents
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
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EXCERPT
CHAPTER ONE
ADAM BANKS DROVE down his winding, rutted driveway while his fourteen-year-old daughter, Summer, nodded to music only she could hear through the earbuds dangling beneath her long red hair.
Sunlight filtered through the canopy of eucalyptus. Birds warbled and twittered above the smooth purr of his vintage Mercedes-Benz. The open window let in a cool breeze that held just a hint of spring.
When he came to the road he looked both ways then began to pull out.
“Look out, Dad!” Summer yelled.
A horse and rider crashed through the forest and shot past right in front of him.
Adam slammed on the brakes and swore under his breath. “I saw her. Did she see me?”
The blonde woman on the dapple gray hauled on the reins, struggling to control the fiery horse. “I’m sorry. Really sorry. My horse has some issues.”
Adam stuck his head out the window, his heart still racing. He’d damn near run her down and the shock of it made him rude when he wouldn’t normally be. “Looks to me like you’re the one with the problem.”
Her cheeks flushed and her full mouth set as she straightened her Akubra hat atop her fraying braid. The horse danced and sidestepped on the gravel shoulder until the woman dug her heels into its heaving sides, and they both plunged back into the woods.
“Who the hell was that?” Adam wondered aloud as he drove off. He glanced into the forest, but the woman and her horse had already disappeared.
“Our neighbor, Hayley Someone.” Summer pressed her nose to the window and gazed longingly after the horse.
“Hayley Someone needs to learn to ride.” Adam gripped the wheel with both hands and scanned the road ahead for runaway horses.
“If she couldn’t ride, she would’ve fallen off when her horse reared,” Summer said. “She and her husband used to give trail rides. Mum’s been on them. But Hayley’s husband died in the bushfires, so I don’t know if Hayley’s still doing the rides.” She paused. “Did you see scars all down her horse’s neck? I wonder if that was from the fire?”
“Could be, I suppose.” Adam had too much on his plate to be distracted by the locals. After he dropped off Summer at school he was heading into the city to meet with the Shanghai delegation about the development project the architecture firm he worked for was bidding on.
&n
bsp; “Dad?” Summer turned to him. “I want another horse.”
“We’re not talking about this now, sweetheart. I told you I’d think about it.” She’d been after him all weekend—horse, horse, horse—till he thought he’d go mad.
“Huh.” Summer readjusted her earbuds and slouched down in her seat, allowing him to spend the rest of the twenty-minute drive going over his presentation in his mind.
Adam pulled up in front of the high school and let the car idle while Summer gathered her backpack. “Can you get the bus back to the house after school?”
“I do all the time.” Summer got out of the car.
He’d only been in Hope Mountain since Friday and wasn’t familiar with her routine. “Okay, well, do you have your key? An umbrella in case it rains?”
“I’ll be fine.” She poked her head back in through the open door, her red hair swinging. “So, have you thought about it?”
“About what?” Adam glanced at his watch. He should have been on the road to Melbourne by now. The team from Shanghai was arriving at 10:00 a.m.
“Me getting another horse.”
“You only asked me fifteen minutes ago.” He shouldn’t have promised to think about it when he had no intention of getting her one. “I’m sorry, Summer, but the answer has to be no.”
“Why?”
He honestly felt badly for his daughter—her horse, Bailey, had died in the bushfires that had swept through the area nearly a year ago. But he had to stand firm. “It’s not a good time.”
“Why, just because you say so? I’m supposed to accept that?”
He tugged at a lock of her hair in a vain attempt to wipe the scowl off her face. “Who’s this sullen teenager and what have you done with my sweet-natured daughter?”
She didn’t crack a smile. “Please, Dad, not another one of your stupid jokes.”
“Hmm, tough audience.” Being a single father was tough, too—much more difficult than he’d expected, and he’d only been at it a couple of days. Reiterating his primary reason, that he wanted to put the house up for sale at the end of the year, would only spark another argument. “Everything’s up in the air. We’ll talk about it later.”
“You always say that.”
“Honey, I have to go to work—”
“You and your work. I guess it’s more important than me!” She slammed the car door.
“Summer! Don’t leave like that.”
She was already halfway up the path to the school. Her friend Zoe, a tall dark-haired girl, was waiting for her, no doubt with a ready ear for Summer’s tale of hardship.
Adam sighed and put his car into gear, easing out of the drop-off zone and onto the street. He drove slowly through the three-block-long commercial end of tiny Hope Mountain.
Sun broke fitfully through the clouds above the mountains enclosing the narrow valley. Trees lining the wide street were budding, and daffodils were springing up in newly planted flower beds. The setting was picture-postcard pretty.
But Hope Mountain was far from idyllic.
The entire mountainside to his left was black and ruined. The remains of burned trees looked like giant charred toothpicks. The community center had burned to the ground, along with the pub, a church and half the businesses on Main Street, leaving empty, barren lots. In the public gardens a huge tent had been set up to distribute donated household goods to people who’d lost everything.
Near the rose garden workmen were erecting a memorial to the people who’d died—nearly two hundred souls. Did they really need such a reminder when the evidence was all around that Hope Mountain was in a region of high fire danger?
The place had been nearly wiped off the face of the map, yet the sounds of nail guns and saws rang out in the clear mountain air, as the townsfolk were determined to rebuild.
More fool them.
The narrow winding road out of town led down the mountain, through more burned-out forest. Twenty miles later, at Healesville, he took the turnoff to Melbourne. Only as he accelerated onto the freeway entrance and set course for the city did he breathe easily.
Three hours later he was wrapping up his presentation to the delegation from Shanghai. Lorraine, his boss, was seated at the end of the boardroom table along with five men and one woman, all in identical gray suits.
“Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes our firm’s vision of the luxury high-rise apartments in the Changning district of Shanghai,” Adam said. “Please, take all the time you need to review our brochure. I’m available to answer your—” he broke off as his phone vibrated inside his pants pocket “—questions any time.”
The damn phone had rung five times in the past half hour. He’d ignored it until now, but it wouldn’t stop.
“Excuse me. I’ll just be a moment.” He threw Lorraine an apologetic glance and hurried out of the room. Shutting the door, he answered his phone. “Yes, what is it?”
“Mr. Banks? This is Tom Dorian, the principal of Summer’s school.”
“What’s wrong? Is she hurt?”
“No, she’s fine. Well, not fine, but...I’d like you to come in. She’s been caught shoplifting.”
“Shoplifting? Summer?” He barked out a disbelieving laugh. “That’s not possible.”
“She was caught red-handed by the owner of the shop.”
Adam pinched the bridge of his nose. This couldn’t be happening. And yet it was. Did he even know his daughter anymore? “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
An hour later, the company helicopter set down on the rain-wet grass of the high school football field. Adam ducked beneath the whirring rotors, his long stride breaking into a jog as he neared the front doors of the school.
Summer had never been in trouble before. Ever. She was a good student, sweet-natured—this morning’s tantrum aside—obsessed with boy bands and horses...typical in every way. She’d had a rough year, with the divorce and the bushfires, but she’d never given him or Diane, his ex-wife, a moment of worry.
Until now.
Adam smoothed his hair and straightened his tie as he rushed to the principal’s office.
A secretary looked up from her computer. “Good morning. Do you have an appointment, Mr.—?”
“Adam Banks. I’m expected.” Through the open door of the principal’s office he saw Summer sitting with her back to him, her shoulders slumped.
He swept past the secretary, knocked once and pushed open the door. “Summer, honey, what’s going on?”
His daughter swiveled on her chair and greeted him with a blank expression and a shrug.
“I can fill you in, Mr Banks.” Tom Dorian was round and slightly sweaty, with short, dark hair. He rose and extended a clammy hand, then walked around to close the door before returning to his desk. “Please, sit down. I’m sorry to have interrupted you at work, but I had no choice. The shopkeeper is talking about pressing charges.”
Pressing charges. The words were enough to strike fear into the heart of any parent. Frowning, Adam took the chair next to Summer. She avoided his gaze and picked at the cuticles of her ink-stained hands. “Summer, what did you steal, and from where?”
Again, she just shrugged.
“A pair of earrings from the Gift Shop Café.” Tom Dorian laced pudgy fingers over his desk blotter, his earnest, boyish face serious. “It happened around 11:30 a.m. She was also skipping school.”
Adam rested a hand gently on Summer’s shoulder. “Is this true?”
“So I cut school. Big deal.” She shrugged his hand off.
“Not that. Shoplifting. Is this about the horse?”
“I wanted something for Mom’s birthday and I didn’t have any money.” She raised her chin and stared at him. His heart sank—now she was lying, too. She received a generous monthly allowance, and her mother’s birthday had been t
wo months ago.
“We’ll talk about that later.” How had she sunk to such a low point without either him or Diane noticing? Behind Summer’s defiance he sensed her fear and heard her unspoken plea: Daddy, get me out of here.
He turned to the principal. “What happens now?”
“You need to go to the police station and talk with the arresting officer,” Tom said. “Since it’s a first offense the shopkeeper might let it go. But even disregarding this incident, Summer’s been on a slippery slope. As you know, her attendance is poor, her grades are falling—”
“No, I didn’t know,” Adam said sharply.
“Summer’s mother didn’t mention it to you?”
“She had to leave in a hurry. Summer’s grandmother is having emergency heart surgery in Sydney.” That didn’t explain why she’d never told him Summer was having trouble at school, but that was Diane all over—ignore problems and hope they would go away. “How long has this been going on?”
“Her problems have been gradually building since the beginning of the school year.” Dorian paused. “The bushfires affected a lot of students. It’s been a difficult time.”
The bushfires again. They were an unmitigated tragedy. Along with the human life lost, hundreds of homes had been burned, livelihoods destroyed and untold numbers of livestock and wildlife killed.
He’d never wanted to buy Timbertop, the two-story log home on five acres of mixed forest and pasture. Diane had fallen in love with it on a whim after spending a weekend up here with her girlfriends, riding horses. He’d purchased the property as a summer home in an attempt to save his rocky marriage but not a month later he’d found out she was having an affair. He didn’t know who with and he didn’t care. It had been the last straw. He’d asked Diane for a divorce, and she’d moved herself and Summer permanently to Hope Mountain.
However, things could have been a lot worse for them. Compared to some others, they had hardly been touched by the fires. “But our house was spared, thanks to the efforts of volunteer firefighters...” he said, still searching for answers as to why his daughter’s behavior had deteriorated. “No close friends of Summer’s were killed—”
