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A Family For Rose
Nadia Nichols
She’s the prodigal daughter…But can she truly go home?Shannon McTavish returns to her father’s Wyoming ranch with her child, Rose, but it’s hardly the haven she expected. Her father and rancher Billy Mac are embroiled in a battle with a powerful wind company. Billy wants Shannon to stay.But is he asking because he needs her help to save the land—or because he wants to give Shannon and Rose a home?
She’s the prodigal daughter...
But can she truly go home?
Shannon McTavish returns to her father’s Wyoming ranch with her child, Rose, but it’s hardly the haven she expected. Her father and rancher Billy Mac are embroiled in a battle with a powerful wind company. Billy wants Shannon to stay. But is he asking because he needs her help to save the land—or because he wants to give Shannon and Rose a home?
NADIA NICHOLS went to the dogs at the age of twenty-nine and currently operates a kennel of twenty-eight Alaskan huskies. She has raced her sled dogs in northern New England and Canada, works at the family-owned Harraseeket Inn in Freeport, Maine, and is also a registered Master Maine Guide.
She began her writing career at the age of five, when she made her first sale, a short story called “The Bear” to her mother for twenty-five cents. This story was such a blockbuster that her mother bought every other story she wrote and kept her in ice-cream money throughout much of her childhood.
Now all her royalties go toward buying dog food. She lives on a remote solar-powered northern Maine homestead with her sled dogs, a Belgian draft horse named Dan, several cats, two goats and a flock of chickens. She can be reached at nadianichols@aol.com.
Also By Nadia Nichols (#u016d6581-a197-56d9-91d8-b6f9288ea8ab)
Across a Thousand Miles
Montana Dreaming
Buffalo Summer
A Full House
Montana Standoff
Sharing Spaces
Everything to Prove
From Out of the Blue
A Soldier’s Pledge
Montana Unbranded
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
A Family for Rose
Nadia Nichols
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08587-8
A FAMILY FOR ROSE
© 2018 Penny R. Gray
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Version: 2018-08-31
“You think me and Rose would be happy here. I think you’re crazy, cowboy.”
“Crazy about you, Shannon, that’s for sure, even if you are way out of my league.”
“I wish you’d quit saying that.” Shannon rose to her feet. “I have to tuck Rose into bed.”
“You could come back afterward,” Billy said. “Watch the stars shine down.”
She smiled, a sweet curve of her lips in the gathering twilight. “You really need to get some rest.”
“What I really need to do is kiss you.”
For a moment he thought she was going to leave. Just turn and walk away and leave him sitting there, like a rejected fool. Just as she had ten years earlier. But she didn’t. She bent over him, her fingertips touching his shoulders, her lips barely touching his. The gentlest of kisses, and far too brief.
Dear Reader (#u016d6581-a197-56d9-91d8-b6f9288ea8ab),
This was a tough story to write. I left my home in western Maine seven years ago when the mountain where my father’s ashes were scattered was leveled to make way for twelve industrial-scale wind turbines. Several years later I went back to visit my old mountain haunts, but nothing was the same, and I didn’t stay long. John Muir said, “Going to the mountains is going home,” but I’ve since learned that mountains are not renewable, and going home can be a painful thing.
The characters in this story share many of the same experiences I did, viewed from opposite sides of the fence. Shannon McTavish believes wind power is green and good for the planet. Billy Mac sees it as an environmental disaster. To complicate matters, Billy works for Shannon’s father, who’s the only holdout among the major landowners who stand to make big bucks leasing their land to the wind power company. Battle lines are drawn, but there’s a whole lot more at stake than the outcome of a wind project. Hearts are on the line, as well as the future of Shannon’s little girl. Shannon has to decide whether to walk away, or try harder to protect what turns out to be the two most important things to all of them: home and family.
I love to hear from my readers. Contact me at nadianichols@aol.com and check out my author’s page on Amazon.com (https://www.amazon.com/Nadia-Nichols/e/B001H6ULT6/).
Nadia Nichols
For my father, who once told me that one of the hardest decisions we ever face in life is choosing whether to walk away or try harder.
Contents
Cover (#u90d06d8c-4167-521d-ba72-ed10102b52d8)
Back Cover Text (#ue209ac9a-1074-53b1-aef8-feb86c0c7ce7)
About the Author (#u63eec710-f850-52f5-a019-4939afb3038c)
Booklist (#uc9a2d22a-f1e1-5896-8156-62d54e346b9f)
Title Page (#u1750c52d-5592-56db-9636-1ab3b4052db7)
Copyright (#ubb6c073d-b3db-5aca-8c6a-61764acf3714)
Introduction (#u7ff6f11c-bc3e-5337-a2da-af9bc1abe1ea)
Dear Reader (#ua5a09d4d-4822-5982-a646-d8ec5912869b)
Dedication (#ue194b616-dceb-5b60-b1fa-d85d71681ae6)
CHAPTER ONE (#u095de426-173e-5942-87be-787cc4142950)
CHAPTER TWO (#u3d3d9ed6-c35f-507e-b2a3-c614da493db3)
CHAPTER THREE (#u4a5be9cb-6588-5a4b-ad32-3326b3b2f0ea)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u15bbbf1a-854f-5272-9f04-b4d12f1acfa9)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u016d6581-a197-56d9-91d8-b6f9288ea8ab)
WYOMING WAS A far stretch from Nashville, but Shannon McTavish hadn’t forgotten the way home. Ten years had passed since she last drove down this long, lonesome stretch of road, but she remembered every curve, every hill and every gully. She knew the names of the mountains she was driving toward—Whiskey and Wolverine, Wolf Butte and Wind River. She knew the names of the creeks she crossed and how sweet the wind would taste when she rolled her window down to fill her lungs. She remembered the sound of the soul-deep thunder that the wind made when it blew across the wild wide open.
This was a big, empty land that looked as if nothing had changed, yet everything had. When Shannon left, her future had seemed so bright and she’d been so in love. Ten years ago she’d vowed never to return to the lonesome place on the edge of nowhere, yet now she couldn’t wait to get there.
Each mile brought her closer, but there were two more obstacles to overcome—and they had nothing to do with the miles or the mountains in between. Her father didn’t know she was coming home, and he was unlikely to welcome her.
Shannon glanced in the rearview mirror. “How’re you doing back there, Rose?”
“Good, Momma. I’m counting cows, like you told me to.”
“How many so far?”
“So many I can’t go that high,” Rose said, all blue eyes, fair skin and sweetness.
“We must be in Wyoming, then,” Shannon said.
“Are we almost there?”
“Almost, sweetheart. I’m going to stop for gas at this little store up ahead, and then it’ll be just a few more miles and we’ll be home.”
“Will there be horses there?”
“I don’t know, Rose. There used to be lots of them, and I hope there still are.”
Hope. The word mocked her. She’d done nothing but hope this whole long drive. Hope her father would be glad to see them. Hope he’d sell her that little piece of land she coveted, so she could build a house and haven for herself and Rose on that little pine-clad knoll above the creek near the ranch gate. Hope she could make a new life for herself and her daughter, and mend fences with her father.
Hope and pray Travis wouldn’t follow them here.
Shannon pulled alongside the gas pumps out in front of Willard’s General Store. The sign was a little more faded after ten years, but the store’s facade looked the same. The weathered bench in front of the store was empty, but it would be at four o’clock on a summer afternoon during haying time. She unbuckled her seat belt and got out, stretching cramped muscles. The air was warm and clean and smelled of sweetgrass and sage. She drew it into her lungs, remembering past summers, other times. The screen door opened with the familiar tinkling of the brass shop bell and Willard Jackson emerged, pulling on a pair of leather work gloves. Same old Willard. Gray hair and beard, wiry and spry, eyes bright behind gold-rimmed glasses. He started down the steps as the screen door banged shut behind him and then came to an abrupt stop when he spotted her.
“Shannon?” he said. “Shannon McTavish! Well I’ll be hanged. How are you, girl? It’s been a dog’s age since you went and got famous on us. Good to see you!”
Shannon had to restrain herself from hugging him, her reaction was that acute. She shook the hand he offered with a glad smile. “It’s good to see you, too, Willard. It’s been a while, for sure. I’ve come back to visit Daddy and my gas tank’s about empty. I’d appreciate if you’d fill it with regular. How are things with you? How’s Wilma?”
Willard began pumping the gas. “Oh, things around the store are the same as ever. Wilma’s fine. Not much has changed since you left.” He canted his head as if reconsidering what he’d just said. “Your daddy know you’re coming?”
Shannon shook her head. “I wanted to surprise him. Why? Is everything all right?”
“Well...” Willard began reluctantly, then stopped. His jaw dropped as he looked through the open car window at Rose. “By the sweet ever lovin’. Is that little’un yours?”
“She sure is. Rose turned six last month. Say hi to Mr. Jackson, Rose.”
“Hi, Mr. Jackson,” Rose said.
“Hello, Rose. You’re as pretty as your mother, you know that? You planning on staying awhile?”
