A Gift from the Past. Carla Cassidy

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      1859

      Dear Diary,

      I’ve wrapped myself up in a blanket of grief, not letting anyone close to me, not even my dear husband, Daniel. He has grieved, as well, silently, stoically, in the way of men. Daniel has been so patient with me, but I know he feels my distance.

      Still, as the sun settled on the horizon this morning, shedding its light and awakening the world, life flickered anew inside me. Love for my husband and the possibility of happiness filled the empty spaces that had kept me in the darkness, in isolation, for so long.

      Daniel, my heart, my husband. We have survived so much, the long and strange journey to this vast, new land; yet, I know our love is strong.

      Now I must go. I am eager to once more be the woman Daniel needs, the woman he loves, the woman he married before all that we have been through. I am eager to start my new life with my husband….

      Dear Reader,

      Oh, baby! This June, Silhouette Romance has the perfect poolside reads for you, from babies to royalty, from sexy millionaires to rugged cowboys!

      In Carol Grace’s Pregnant by the Boss! (#1666), champagne and mistletoe lead to a night of passion between Claudia Madison and her handsome boss—but will it end in a lifetime of love? And don’t miss the final installment in Marie Ferrarella’s crossline miniseries, THE MOM SQUAD, with Beauty and the Baby (#1668), about widowed mother-to-be Lori O’Neill and the forbidden feelings she can’t deny for her late husband’s caring brother!

      In Raye Morgan’s Betrothed to the Prince (#1667), the second in the exciting CATCHING THE CROWN miniseries, a princess goes undercover when an abandoned baby is left in the care of a playboy prince. And some things are truly meant to be, as Carla Cassidy shows us in her incredibly tender SOULMATES series title, A Gift from the Past (#1669), about a couple given a surprising second chance at forever.

      What happens when a rugged cowboy wins fifty million dollars? According to Debrah Morris, in Tutoring Tucker (#1670), he hires a sexy oil heiress to refine his rough-and-tumble ways, and they both get a lesson in love. Then two charity dating-game contestants get the shock of their lives when they discover Oops…We’re Married? (#1671), by brand-new Silhouette Romance author Susan Lute.

      See you next month for more fun-in-the-sun romances!

      Happy reading!

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      Mary-Theresa Hussey

      Senior Editor

      A Gift from the Past

      Carla Cassidy

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      CARLA CASSIDY

      is an award-winning author who has written over fifty books for Silhouette. In 1995, she won Best Silhouette Romance from Romantic Times for Anything for Danny. In 1998, she also won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series from Romantic Times.

      Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.

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      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Epilogue

      Chapter One

      Claire McCane looked like a bag lady. But, as far as she was concerned, most amateur treasure hunters looked like street people. Of course, the small town of Mayfield, Missouri, didn’t draw many true treasure hunters.

      It had only been since Clark Windsloe, owner of Windsloe Automotive and the mayor of Mayfield, had begun the Pot of Gold contest that the citizens of Mayfield had transformed themselves from ordinary people into half-crazed puzzle-solvers and earth-diggers.

      The final three clues leading to where the ten-thousand-dollar treasure was buried would appear in the Saturday morning paper over the next three weeks, but Claire thought she knew where to find the windfall. And heaven knew she could use a windfall.

      She briskly walked across the large expanse of manicured lawn that surrounded the two-story brick building that housed City Hall and the police station. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself, didn’t want anyone else to know where she was going to hunt for the buried money.

      Behind the city building were thick woods and it was there she was headed, to the base of a certain tree. Unfortunately she hadn’t been able to afford one of those treasure-finding machines with all their bells and whistles. She was armed only with a trusty spade and a healthy dose of excitement.

      The late June air felt hot on her shoulders and was sweetly fragrant with the scent of the blooming flowers surrounding the building. As she left the well-trimmed grass for the taller, more tangled underbrush of the woods, she glanced at her wristwatch.

      Time was of the essence. She always felt guilty leaving her grandfather in anyone else’s care for any length of time. Thank goodness for Wilma Iverson, her neighbor who was available to sit with Sarge.

      It was cooler here, with the canopy of leaves overhead to shade the ground. The tree she sought was on the far side of the wooded area, a tree scarred by lightning that had been referred to as the Dragon Tree when she was a child.

      The clue in the paper that morning had been something about the roots of fire and ash yielding sweet fruit. She had instantly thought of the Dragon Tree. She desperately hoped she was right. She had a hundred plans for the money if she managed to find it.

      She quickened her pace, ducking beneath tree limbs, picking her way through vines and brush, hoping she was the only one who had thought of the lightning-scarred tree.

      She heard him before she saw him, somewhere ahead of her, like a bear lumbering through the brush, only there were no bears in Mayfield. At the same time, she became aware of the faint scent of expensive cologne lingering in the air.

      Somebody was after her treasure. She quickened her pace, dismay sweeping through her. If she could get to the tree

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