romance blossoming. I took extra time and care developing both these characters, so please let me know what you think of them.
You can reach me through my website: www.lizshoaf.com.
Happy reading!
Liz Shoaf
For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.
—1 Timothy 6:10
This one is dedicated to both of my wonderful sisters, Donna Wright and Sherri Stout. You’re beautiful, inside and out, and I’m so blessed God chose you to be my sisters here on earth. Growing up was such fun with the two of you. You bossed me around, but you also protected and loved me like no one else ever could. That still holds true today. I love you with all my heart.
And a BIG thank-you to my editor, Dina Davis, who always catches my mistakes. What would I do without you? I don’t want to find out. :) And to her boss, Tina, who has final approval of all books. There’s a host of people at Harlequin who work on a book from beginning to end. I don’t know all your names, but I want to thank you for the hard work you do to make the finished book possible.
Contents
Note to Readers
Mary Grace Ramsey breathed out a puff of frigid air as she slogged through the deep, freezing snow. Treacherous didn’t even begin to describe this mountain located in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. She prayed she’d be able to find the person she was searching for—a mysterious and elusive man known as Mountain Man. Her thoughts came to a screeching halt when a loud muffled sound resonated from down the mountain behind her. Snow flurries swirled in the air as she slowly turned around, trying to make as little noise as possible. She winced when the snow crunched beneath her hiking boots. In the hushed quiet of the forest, the breaking ice under her feet sounded like a cannon shot.
“Tink, did you hear that?” she whispered.
A tuft of white fur, followed by a pink nose, popped out of the nylon dog carrier she had strapped to her chest. Tinker Bell sniffed the air before ducking back inside her cozy quarters.
“Some help you are,” Mary Grace grumbled affectionately, but she didn’t blame her dog. Mary Grace’s own nose felt like an icicle
