target="_blank" rel="nofollow" href="#uc204bfc8-627d-5030-a1ed-12e73de61dde">Dear Reader,
From the time Kendall Davidson walked onto the page in Always the Hero, I could not wait to tell her story. Writing about a female veteran of the Afghan war was a responsibility I took very seriously; so seriously, I second-guessed myself, hoping I was doing my fictional military heroine a fraction of the justice so many of our servicemen and servicewomen deserve.
I knew it would require a special man to convince Kendall love was worth taking a chance on, but other than that, he was a blank slate. Correction: I knew Hunter MacBride would need an advantage in his fight to win Kendall’s heart—his niece Phoebe, a child in need of the kind of help only Kendall understands. The more books I write, the more I realize just how resilient the human heart is.
This story, like all the Butterfly Harbor romances, is about the healing power of love and acceptance, friendship, community and hope. Here’s wishing that Kendall and Hunter’s (and Phoebe’s) journey to their happily-ever-after finds a place in your heart.
Anna J
For Aimee Costa-Schmitz.
Cousin by birth. Friend by choice.
Contents
Note to Readers
“WELL, PHOEBE?” HUNTER MACBRIDE stopped his decade-old motor home at the turnoff for the Liberty Lighthouse. “What do you think?”
Hunter’s seven-year-old niece turned her doll-wide gaze out the bug-and grime-encrusted windshield to get her first glimpse of Butterfly Harbor and California’s historic lighthouse. He powered down the windows and let the roar of the ocean welcome them. The faint sound of rattling pebbles cascading beside the lapping waves and late-winter wind reminded him of the carefree summers he’d spent at his grandparents’ beach house growing up. For the first time in a long time, Hunter felt as if he could breathe.
The coast had always brought him a sense of peace. In his experience, there wasn’t a problem that couldn’t be solved by the roar of the water and the sheer power of Mother Nature crashing against the rocks. He could only hope this place would do the same for Phoebe. It had to. He’d bet everything—including his career—on it.
“I’ve always loved lighthouses,” Hunter said. “Used to explore them whenever I could.” He cast an eye on Phoebe. “Nothing better than climbing to the top, around and around that spiral staircase—”
Phoebe looked at him and frowned, her brows knitting into a perfect V over her little nose.
“That’s right, a spiral staircase.” He wound his finger in a circle and drew it up. “Your mom and I used to have races to see who’d make it to the top first. One time I went so fast I threw up on her.”
Phoebe’s skeptical stare went blank at the mention of Juliana. It had been six months since her parents—Hunter’s sister and brother-in-law—had been killed in a car accident. Six months since he’d become sole guardian to his niece.
Six
