Oh, boy! My heart did a little two-step as this cowboy series galloped into the third book. It touched on themes near and dear to my heart: family, loyalty, faith, love and the power of God to sweep away our deepest misconceptions in a brief moment. It seems to me, dear reader, that in all of our efforts and striving, we are searching for perfect love, a way to ease that empty space inside that only God can fill. Shannon believes she can find what she craves through work, in the face of her earthly father’s rejection. It will take many factors to help her see the truth: Jack, her mother, a relentless gang and the perfect innocence of a newborn baby. So come along on this journey with me through Gold Country. I hope the story will touch your heart the way it has mine! As always, I love to hear from my readers. You can find me on all the usual cyberstops: Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and Pinterest, as well as my website, danamentink.com, where you can find a physical address, as well. Thank you for riding along with me, dear reader. God bless you!
Sincerely,
Dana Mentink
For my darling Emily and Holly, who inspire me every day.
Contents
Shannon Livingston ignored the splashes of blood on her scrubs. She shoved the mask off her face and dropped it into the waste container.
Her patient, T.J. Willis, was alive in Los Angeles Mercy Hospital—at least for the moment—a fall down the stairs having left him with a basilar skull fracture and internal bleeding. His rowdy biker clan was waiting for a report. Hospital security was already apprised. The nurses had done what they could to placate the members of the Scarlet Tide: easing off T.J.’s “colors” instead of cutting the clothing and making sure Willis’s entourage had a private waiting area for the more than two dozen biker brothers. They’d followed hospital protocol for the known “one percenters,” an ironic name to set apart the bikers who were outlaws from the 99 percent who weren’t.
The bikers gathered in the waiting area were not law-abiding motorcycle enthusiasts, according to the police bulletins. They were criminals, and they
