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MEET THE FORTUNES!
Fortune of the Month:
Amelia Fortune Chesterfield
Age: 23
Vital Statistics: Doelike eyes, ivory complexion. As fragile as a china doll—and in the family way.
Claim to Fame: Did we mention that she’s English royalty?
Romantic Prospects: Many men have pursued her for her title, but will anybody love her for just herself?
“My whole life I’ve been a good girl, following the rules, being a proper princess. But everything changed when I met Quinn in Horseback Hollow. He made me realize what was really important. In his strong cowboy arms I finally felt safe. I never should have gone back to London. Everything went so wrong so fast! Now Quinn is acting like he hates me. How can I possibly tell him I’m carrying his child?”
* * *
The Fortunes of Texas:
Welcome to Horseback Hollow!
Fortune’s Prince
Allison Leigh
There is a saying that you can never be too rich or too thin. ALLISON LEIGH doesn’t believe that, but she does believe that you can never have enough books! When her stories find a way into the hearts—and bookshelves—of others, Allison says she feels she’s done something right. Making her home in Arizona with her husband, she enjoys hearing from her readers at [email protected] or PO Box 40772, Mesa, AZ 85274-0772, USA.
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For all the Fortune Women.
As always, it is an honor to be among you.
Contents
Chapter One
He stopped cold when he heard a faint rustle. The only light there was came from the moonlight sneaking through the barn door that he’d left open behind him.
Standing stock-still, Quinn Drummond listened intently, his eyes searching the black shadows around him. He’d built the barn. He knew it like the back of his hand. He knew the sounds that belonged, and the ones that didn’t. Animal or human, it didn’t matter. He knew.
He reached out his right hand, unerringly grabbing onto a long wooden handle. He’d prefer his shotgun, but it was up in the house. So the pitchfork would have to do.
This wasn’t some damn possum rooting around.
This was someone. Someone hiding out in his barn.
He knew everyone who lived in his Texas hometown. Horseback Hollow was the polar opposite of a metropolis. If someone there wanted something, they’d have come to his face, not skulk around in the middle of the night inside his barn.
His hand tightened around the sturdy handle. His focus followed the rustling sound and he took a silent step closer to it. “Come on out now, because if you don’t, I promise you won’t like what’s gonna happen.”
The faint rustle became a scuffling sound, then the darkness in front of him gathered into a small form.
His wariness drained away. His tight grip relaxed. Just a kid.
He made a face and set aside the pitchfork. “What’d you do? Run away from home?” He’d tried that once, when he was seven. Hadn’t gotten far. His dad had hauled him home and would have tanned his butt if his mother hadn’t stepped
