power to change his life. His square-cut face carved in grim lines, he was half tempted to trash the thing, but it was the last communication from his mother. For no other reason than that, he had to read it. Reaching for it, he tore it open and began to read.
To my dear son,
You’ll never know how much I love you. You’ve been the greatest joy of my life, a blessing I thanked God for every day. I know how difficult it was for you, growing up without your father, and I’m sorry for that. But your father wasn’t the unfeeling monster you think he was, dear. He was a good man who had no idea you even existed. His name is Gus McBride, and when we met, he lived in Liberty Hill, Colorado.
We met in Cheyenne, Wyoming, when I was there one summer visiting my grandmother. I never believed in love at first sight until I met him. He was in town for a rodeo and we had one wonderful night together. That was all, dear. Just one night. I fell in love with him, but please don’t blame him because he didn’t return my feelings. He was still in love with the girlfriend he had broken up with the month before. She was all he talked about, but I foolishly thought I could make him fall in love with me. I was wrong. When he left town the next morning, he probably went back to her.
Two weeks later, I returned to my parents’ house in San Diego. A month later, I discovered I was pregnant. You must understand, dear, that times were different then. My pregnancy was scandalous to my parents, and their main concern was that I get married as soon as possible. They didn’t care that Gus didn’t love me. All they wanted was his name so they could force him to marry me. They didn’t understand that if he’d known I was pregnant, they wouldn’t have had to say a word to him—he would have insisted on marrying me. He was that kind of man. And if he’d loved me, I would have agreed. But he didn’t, so I kept his name to myself—which is why your grandparents disowned me.
Please don’t feel sorry for me…or hate them, Taylor, dear. If I could have turned back the clock and done things differently, I wouldn’t have. The night I had with your father was magical, and you were his gift to me. I never regretted it. It’s important that you know that. You and I had a wonderful life together. When you remember me, remember that.
Love,
Mother
Grief squeezing his heart, Taylor sent up a silent prayer, asking her to forgive him for not respecting her final wish. He couldn’t. Because in spite of the love he and his mother had shared, when he thought of her, it was the hardness of her life he remembered. And Gus McBride of Liberty Hill, Colorado, was responsible for that, he thought grimly. Somehow, some way, he was going to make him pay for that.
Chapter 1
“Hi, sweetie. Did I catch you getting ready for a date? What’s the name of that boy you’re going with? Micah? Mick? I never can remember. When’s he going to wise up and ask you to marry him? I told your mother three years ago that he was too slow for you, but she thought he was the greatest thing since sliced bread.”
Grinning, Phoebe Chandler had to laugh at her grandmother’s disgusted tone, obvious even over the phone. Myrtle had never been one to keep her opinions to herself—which was one of the things Phoebe loved about her. “His name is Marshall, Gran, and we quit dating six months ago. Didn’t I tell you?”
“Oh, of course,” she said. “Now I remember. He was more interested in what your daddy left you than you. That’s another thing I didn’t like about him. He had dollar signs in his eyes.”
Phoebe couldn’t argue with that. She hadn’t cared much for that particular trait of Marshall’s, either. Luckily, her eyesight was as good as her grandmother’s. “I sent him packing when he tried to borrow money from me. So what’s going on? Mom said you were going on a trip with some old high-school friends.”
Myrtle laughed gaily. “And here I thought everyone but me and Sara McBride were dead. By the way, I wish she was here. She’d love seeing the old gang again.”
“When will she be back from her honeymoon?”
“Oh, not for another couple of weeks, at least. Longer, if they decide to take that cruise up the west coast to Alaska.”
“So when’s the trip? You are going, aren’t you?”
“You know me, sweetie,” she chuckled. “My bags are always packed. There’s just a teensy problem….”
“Your antique store,” Phoebe guessed with a smile. “You need someone to run it while you’re gone.”
“Well, yes,” she admitted, “but there’s another problem. I haven’t had any boarders the last month, so I decided to turn the house into a bed and breakfast. I placed an ad in some travel magazines and I’ve got some reservations for the next couple of weeks.”
“You’re kidding! Gran, that’s great!”
She chuckled ruefully. “It would be if I didn’t want to go on this trip. I can’t be two places at once. I’ve been trying to figure out what to do, then I remembered you always take the month of June off. How would you like to come to Liberty Hill and run my B and B for me?”
Phoebe didn’t even have to think twice. “I’d love it!”
“Are you sure?” her grandmother asked worriedly. “You probably had plans—”
“I was just going to paint the house. I can do that anytime.”
“What about the business? I don’t want to put you in a bind just so I can run off with friends, sweetie. I can come up with a reason to cancel the reservations, if necessary…or stay home, for that matter. The world’s not going to end if I don’t get to go on this trip.”
“No, but you want to go, and why shouldn’t you? You’ll have a great time. Call your friend back and tell her you’re going. I’ll handle things while you’re gone.”
“But who’ll take care of your business while you’re playing innkeeper for me? You deal with a lot of cash, honey. Do you really want to trust that to someone else?”
“Jason’s going to work with me again this summer,” Phoebe replied. “Dad always said not to let the business get so big that I couldn’t handle it myself, but Jason’s a good kid. And he’s family. He won’t steal from me.”
Jason Chandler, her second cousin, was a high-school senior who had worked not only for her in past summers, but for her grandmother, as well. Honest and hard-working, he was saving his money for college and planned to be a doctor. It would never cross his mind to take anything that didn’t belong to him.
Across the phone line, Myrtle sighed in relief. “Oh, well, if it’s Jason, you don’t have anything to worry about. He’ll make sure every penny is accounted for.”
“So when do I need to be there?”
“June eighth,” her grandmother said promptly. “This is going to be so much fun, sweetheart—for both of us! You’re going to love the guests who’ll be coming in in a couple of weeks. They’re newlyweds from Florida. They’ll both be eighty in July.”
“Eighty!”
“I know,” she chuckled. “I was surprised, too, when I talked to the bride on the phone. I would have sworn she was at least thirty years younger.”
