now, that was going to have to be enough.
Thank you for once again journeying with me to Wrangler’s Corner. I loved Toby from the moment I met him in Protecting Her Daughter. I had no idea he would make such a big deal out of having his own story—and his own woman—but he did.
It was a pleasure to see him come to life and learn to love. Neither he nor Robin had an easy childhood, but they rose above it and became two people who appreciated having a happily-ever-after so much more because of it.
I hope that if you’re going through any struggles or difficulties, you allow it to make you stronger. Keep pressing on because soon you’ll find yourself on the other side of it.
Again, I hope you enjoyed the story. Feel free to let me know at facebook.com/lynette.eason or visit my website at lynetteeason.com to sign up for my newsletter and stay in touch.
God bless,
Lynette
According to thy mercy remember thou me for thy goodness’ sake, O Lord.
—Psalms 25:7
To all of the readers who buy my books. I appreciate you so much!
Contents
Dr. Robin Hardy looked up from her microscope and frowned when the voices reached her over the Christmas music she had playing softly through the one earbud she wore. She never wore two when working just in case someone needed her attention. A habit she’d developed after being scared out of her skin by coworkers tapping her on the shoulder.
Some people played only music. She liked the radio app and the commentary that came with it. And she’d hoped the cheery tunes and upbeat voices would lighten the heaviness in her heart.
So far it hadn’t worked.
A part-time professor at the Middle Tennessee State University, she spent the majority of her time teaching virology research to eager young minds.
The rest of the time—too much time, some might say—she worked in the lab along with several other scientists. None of whom were on the schedule to be here tonight. She’d come because she’d craved something to take her mind off the fact that she’d been betrayed by someone she’d considered a good friend. With the potential to be something more.
Hurt feelings and righteous anger didn’t promote restful nights. So, she worked. And fumed. And vowed never to trust another charming, good-looking, smooth-talking male again.
Toby Potter, with his dancing eyes, finger-magnet five o’clock shadow and perpetually mussed caramel-colored hair, had used her. The rat.
