Baby, Come Home. Stephanie Bond
Praise for the novels of
STEPHANIE
BOND
“The perfect summer read.”
—Romance Reviews Today on Sand, Sun…Seduction!
“[My Favorite Mistake] illustrates the author’s gift for
weaving original, brilliant romance that readers
find impossible to put down.”
—Wordweaving.com
“This book is so hot it sizzles.”
—Once Upon a Romance on
She Did a Bad, Bad Thing
“An author who has
remained on my ‘must-buy’ list for years.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“True-to-life, romantic and witty,
as we’ve come to expect from Ms. Bond.”
—The Best Reviews
“Stephanie Bond never fails to entertain me
and deserves to be an auto-buy.”
—Romance Reviews Today
Baby, Come Home
Stephanie Bond
This book is dedicated to every person
who has answered the call of going home.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Stephanie Bond was raised on a farm
in eastern Kentucky where books—
mostly romance novels—were her number one
form of entertainment, which she credits with
instilling in her “the rhythm of storytelling.”
Years later she answered the call back to books
to create her own stories. She sold her first
manuscript in 1995 and soon left her corporate
programming job to write fiction full-time.
Today Stephanie has over fifty titles to
her name, and lives in midtown Atlanta.
Visit www.stephaniebond.com for more information
about the author and her books.
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
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
1
“We’re way behind schedule,” Marcus Armstrong announced.
“That’s ridiculous,” Porter Armstrong said, smacking his hand on the desk between them. “We’re way ahead of schedule!”
Kendall Armstrong looked back and forth between his older brother and his younger brother and gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to jump in, like always, to mediate between his stubborn siblings. Serious-minded Marcus had a tendency to be overly cautious, and the more reckless Porter had a predisposition for leaping before he looked—literally. His younger brother had only recently rid himself of the casts on his broken leg and broken arm that had kept him hobbled for the whole summer and most of the fall. With the holidays behind them and a new year begun, everyone was feeling the pressure of the one year plus change that remained on the federal deadline to prove their green experiment of rebuilding the mountain town of Sweetness, Georgia, would work. The brothers had started from nothing—worse than nothing, really. Ten years ago an F5 tornado had flattened their small hometown, sparing human life, but obliterating businesses and homes. The devastation had been the death knell for the tiny town already dwindling in population and economic prosperity. The town council had elected not to reorganize; residents had relocated. When the Armstrongs had arrived a year ago, the roads into Sweetness were choked and overgrown, the land consumed with kudzu vines and littered remains of buildings, vehicles and trees shorn by the twister. Wild animals roamed freely among the rubble. It was as if the outside world had forgotten about Sweetness.
Now, including the two hundred and fifty or so workers the men employed, the hundred or so women who’d come en masse from Broadway, Michigan, in response to an ad the brothers had placed in a local newspaper, looking for women who wanted a fresh start, their children and miscellaneous relatives who had since followed, and various professionals and trade experts who’d come to help them shape the town, the population of Sweetness had grown to— Kendall turned his head to look at the latest number written on the chalkboard by the door—536. “Ahead of schedule?” Marcus said to Porter. “What calendar are you looking at?”
“The same one you’re looking at,” Porter said, jerking his thumb toward the giant calendar that papered the walls of the office.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah!”
They suddenly stopped and looked over at Kendall, who sat in a chair across the room.
“Aren’t you going to weigh in?” Marcus asked.
“You’re just going to sit there?” Porter said.
Kendall pursed his mouth and nodded. “That’s right.” He scooted his seat back against the wall, then made a rolling motion with his hands. “Go ahead, have at each other. Settle this like real men. Porter hasn’t been in a cast for a while.”
Marcus frowned. “You don’t have to be sarcastic.”
Porter scowled. “Yeah, it doesn’t suit you, brother.”
Anger sparked in Kendall’s stomach, sending him to his feet. “Really? Because it feels pretty damn good! I’m tired of constantly trying to wrestle you both back to middle ground. You’re wearing me out. I have half a mind to leave this place and never come back!”
He stopped, surprised but relieved that he’d voiced the thought that had been hovering in the back of