Callie was a puzzle to him.
Her intentions and determination were admirable, but Jack didn’t believe she understood what she was up against. Such a sheltered city girl would have a hard time adjusting to life in a place like this.
Had her life back in Ohio been so terrible that even with what happened to his brother, she—
Jack gave his head a shake. He’d let her get under his skin. He had to remember that her personal problems were no concern of his. She wanted to challenge his claim to his nieces and nephew, and that made her his opponent.
Family mattered. That was something only he could offer his nieces and nephew.
But still…he’d never met a woman like her. Callie was…he hadn’t quite figured out what she was, besides being a thorn in his side. And just plain wrong about her rights in regard to Annabeth and Simon and Emma.
On the other hand, could he really say the kids would be better off with a wandering bachelor than with his brother’s widow?
WINNIE GRIGGS
is a city girl born and raised in southeast Louisiana’s Cajun Country who grew up to marry a country boy from the hills of northwest Louisiana. Though her Prince Charming is more comfortable riding a tractor than a white steed, the two of them have been living their own happily-ever-after for thirty-plus years. During that time they raised four children and an assortment of dogs, cats, fish, hamsters, turtles and 4-H sheep.
In addition to her day job at a utility company and her writing career, Winnie serves on committees within her church and several writing organizations, and is active in local civic organizations—she truly believes the adage that you reap in proportion to what you sow.
In addition to writing and reading, Winnie enjoys spending time with her family, cooking and exploring flea markets. Readers can contact Winnie at P.O. Box 398, Plain Dealing, LA 71064, or e-mail her at [email protected].
Winnie Griggs
The Hand-Me-Down Family
For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago.
—Ephesians 2:10
To each of the following, my most sincere
gratitude:
My agent, Michelle Grajkowski, who has always been upbeat about my work and has never allowed me to give up or get discouraged.
To the members of the “I Told You So Club,” Cathy, Laura, Margaret and Lenora, who gave me some not-so-gentle nudges toward taking this leap-of-faith path for my writing. Thank you, ladies, and I hereby admit publicly that you were oh-so-right.
To my “first readers,” Joanne, Cathy and Renee—your feedback was invaluable.
I am truly blessed to have each of you in my life.
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
Epilogue
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
California, May 1888
“Hey, Jack!”
Jack bit back an oath at the hail, then turned in a slow, controlled movement. He pinned the foreman’s errand boy with a cold stare, holding his peace for three long heartbeats, just enough time to set the unthinking messenger to fidgeting in his saddle.
Finally, Jack pulled the sliver of twig from his mouth. “You got a death wish, Dobbins? Or didn’t you see those yellow flags marking off this area?”
The young man’s expression faltered. “Yes, but you’re still—”
Jack snapped the twig and tossed it away. “I’m inside the perimeter because I’m setting charges. Which means I’m working with enough explosives right now to blow you, me and most of this pile of rock to smithereens.”
Dobbins’s Adam’s apple bobbed, but he stuck out his chin and pulled a paper from his pocket. “A telegram came for you. Mr. Gordon wanted—”
Jack’s jaw muscle twitched. Fool kid. “I don’t care if it’s a set of executive orders from President Grover Cleveland himself. When I’m in the middle of a job, you don’t cross the perimeter unless it’s life or death.” He narrowed his eyes. “Because it just might turn into that.”
A quick nod signaled understanding.
Jack wiped his brow with his sleeve, already regretting his harsh tone. The heat and the hours were starting to wear on him.
