The Stranger She Married. Crystal Green
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Matt had returned to Kane’s Crossing to reclaim his memory, his sanity.
He wasn’t sure what to do about the wife part, though.
He glanced over at Rachel. She was playing with something on her finger. A ring.
An image assaulted him, making his head swim: a flash of strumming guitars, bougainvillea, sultry nights. But then it was gone.
He reached for his iced tea to chase the dryness from his mouth—and stopped cold.
A little girl stood in the doorway, an urchin with features reminiscent of Rachel’s. In his mind’s eye, Matt saw the girl dancing on the tops of his shoes, giggling and clinging to his forearms.
“Company, Mommy?” the girl asked.
Reeling, Matt shut his eyes.
Matt Shane had come home….
Dear Reader,
I’m delighted to introduce Barbara Gale, whose intense story The Ambassador’s Vow (SSE #1500) “explores not only issues involved in interracial romance, but the price one pays for not following one’s heart.” The author adds, “Together, the characters discover that honesty is more important to the heart than skin color. Recognizing the true worth of the gold ring they both sought is what eventually reunites them.” Don’t wait to pick this one up!
Sherryl Woods brings us Sean’s Reckoning (SSE #1495), the next title in her exciting series THE DEVANEYS. Here, a firefighter discovers love and family with a single mom and her son when he rescues them from a fire. Next, a warning: there’s another Bravo bachelor on the loose in Christine Rimmer’s Mercury Rising (SSE #1496), from her miniseries THE SONS OF CAITLIN BRAVO. Perplexed heroine Jane Elliott tries to resist Cade Bravo, but of course her efforts are futile as she falls for the handsome hero. Did we ever doubt it?
In Montana Lawman (SSE #1497), part of MONTANA MAVERICKS, Allison Leigh makes the sparks fly between a shy librarian and a smitten deputy sheriff. Crystal Green’s miniseries KANE’S CROSSING continues with The Stranger She Married (SSE #1498), in which a husband returns after a long absence—but he can’t remember his marriage! Watch how this powerful love story unites this starry-eyed couple…. Finally, Tracy Sinclair delivers tantalizing excitement in An American Princess (SSE #1499), in which an American beauty receives royal pampering by a suave Prince Charming. How’s that for a dream come true?
Each month, we aim to bring you the best in romance. We are enthusiastic to hear your thoughts. You may send comments to my attention at Silhouette Special Edition, 300 East 42nd Street, 6th Floor, New York, New York 10017. In the meantime, happy reading!
Sincerely,
Karen Taylor Richman
Senior Editor
The Stranger She Married
Crystal Green
To Gary and Joan.
Your love (and wedding ring) is truly inspirational.
CRYSTAL GREEN
lives in San Diego, California, where she is an eighth-grade humanities teacher. When Crystal isn’t writing romances, she enjoys reading, wasting precious time on the Internet, overanalyzing movies, risking her life during police ride-alongs, petting her parents’ Maltese dogs and fantasizing about being a really great cook.
During school breaks, Crystal spends her time becoming readdicted to her favorite soap operas, and traveling. Her favorite souvenirs include travel journals—the pages reflecting everything from taking tea in London’s Leicester Square to backpacking up endless mountain roads leading to the castles of Sintra, Portugal.
She’d love to hear from her readers at: 8895 Towne Centre Drive, Suite 105-178, San Diego, CA 92122-5542.
THE KANE’S CROSSING GAZETTE
Missing Hubby Returns Home!
by Verna Loquacious, Town Observer
Greetings from your friendly neighborhood grapevine!
For those of you who’ve been wondering when Rachel Shane, owner of Greek Oaks Horse Farm, would finally smile again, well, your worrying days are over and done. Some of our esteemed townsfolk have been chatting about a mysterious stranger who wandered into Kane’s Crossing recently. A stranger bearing a striking resemblance to Matthew, Ms. Shane’s missing husband. Although this man ambles about the property in cowboy boots and jeans instead of the usual English boots and jodhpurs, most of our population believes this is our wayward party boy.
And I must say, the change is not a bad one, ladies.
But I digress. That smile on Rachel’s face has been missing for as long as her husband, so we all have to wonder… Where has this man been?
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
Epilogue
Chapter One
T he stranger parked his vintage Cadillac near the breeding barn of Green Oaks, causing Rachel Shane to drop the piece of fencing she struggled to repair.
He walked up the paved road that wound past the maze of white fences and emerald grass, past the pond and the exercise track where her most temperamental thoroughbred, Dolly Llama, was being hand-walked by a trainer.
Rachel didn’t recognize him. Nothing about his cowboy boots, faded jeans or long-sleeved denim shirt rang familiar. A Stetson even shaded his gaze from her curiosity. His outlaw stroll caught her eye for a moment, popping a bubble of longing in her chest. She hadn’t seen a walk so sexy, so confident in ages, not since her prodigal husband had left her over two years ago.
She sighed and once again bent down to the Kentucky bluegrass, lush and fragrant around her English riding boots, and gripped the fallen white fencing. With a great heave-ho, she hefted the load, then groaned even more loudly than her city-girl muscles did. Overcome with the heaviness of her burden, she dropped the wood, feeling tears of frustration welling in her throat.
What was she doing? She needed to be in the house, watching her daughter, going over the books to see how much money they didn’t have to run Green Oaks—this horse-breeding farm.
A trickle of sweat wiggled down the back of her neck, past her braid and into the shirt collar. It felt like a clammy finger, tracing down her spine, warning her.
Again, curiosity plagued her. She peered over a shoulder, more out of habit than anything else. You always had to be watching your back in Kane’s Crossing. Too many whispered words could sneak up on you, attacking, wounding.
A voice, its tone reminiscent of low night fires, broke the June morning. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Right. As if Rachel was a stranger to hurt and pain.
This guy was probably looking for a job. As she turned around to see the voice’s owner, her mouth parted in preparation to