Crystal Green - The Pregnant Bride

A black look crossed Nick’s face at Meggie’s news of her pregnancy.

“Don’t worry, Meggie. We’re going to make things right,” he growled.

She shook her head. “When the father gets back to town, I’m afraid he’ll want my baby, drag me through a custody battle.” And she’d lose her child forever. “You know he can do it, Nick. His family has so much money and power.”

Nick ran a hand through his hair, looking angrily around the town that hated him. “There’s one solution, Meggie….”

There was no solution as far as she was concerned. “Thanks for the optimism, but I have no idea what to do.”

Nick took a deep breath. “You can marry me. You can give your child my name.”

Dear Reader,

’Tis the season to ask yourself “What makes Christmas special?” (other than a Silhouette Special Edition novel in your stocking, that is). For Susan Mallery, it’s “sharing in established traditions and starting new ones.” And what could be more of a tradition than reading Susan’s adorable holiday MONTANA MAVERICKS story, Christmas in Whitehorn?

Peggy Webb’s statement of the season, “The only enduring gift is love” resonates in us all as she produces an enduring gift with The Smile of an Angel from her series THE WESTMORELAND DIARIES. Along with love, author Patricia Kay feels that Christmas “is all about joy—the joy of being with family and loved ones.” And we are overjoyed to bring you the latest in her CALLAHANS & KIN miniseries, Just a Small-Town Girl.

Sylvie Kurtz shows us the “magical quality” of the holidays in A Little Christmas Magic, a charming opposites-attract love story. And we are delighted by Patricia McLinn’s My Heart Remembers from her WYOMING WILDFLOWERS miniseries. For Patricia, “Christmas is family. Revisiting memories, but also focusing on today.” Crystal Green echoes this thought. “The word family is synonymous with Christmas.” So curl up with her latest, The Pregnant Bride, from her new miniseries, KANE’S CROSSING!

As you can see, we have many talented writers to celebrate this holiday season in Special Edition.

Happy Holidays!

Karen Taylor Richman

Senior Editor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Mom and Aunt Mary, the hardest working supporters in the world; and in memory of Regina Emig Ronk, whose courage and advice still inspire me.

lives in San Diego, California, where she has survived three years as an eighth-grade teacher of humanities. She’s especially proud of her college-bound AVID (Advancement Via Individual Determination) students who have inspired her to persevere.

When Crystal isn’t writing romance, she enjoys reading, creative poetry, overanalyzing movies, risking her life during police ride-alongs, petting her parents’ Maltese dogs and fantasizing about being a really good cook.

During school breaks, Crystal spends her time becoming readdicted to her favorite soap operas and traveling to places far and wide. Her favorite souvenirs include travel journals—the pages reflecting everything from taking tea in London’s Leicester Square to backpacking up endless mountain roads leading to the castles of Sintra, Portugal.

THE KANE’S CROSSING GAZETTE

August 18, 1985

Delinquent Bombs Chaney’s Drugstore!

No injuries, but store is destroyed, along with town’s faith in foster care system.

Chad Spencer, great-grandson of the town’s founding father, Kane Spencer, told police last night that he and his friends never expected Nicholas Cassidy to set off a bomb during their night of fun.

“I swear on my great-granddaddy’s grave, we never saw it coming,” said the Spencer High School Junior Varsity quarterback. “All we were doing was hanging out, when old Nicholas whips out this space-age looking doodad. I’m telling you, that kid was no good from the get-go.”

Cassidy, a resident of Kane’s Crossing for merely one year, refrained from commenting as he was escorted from town. His foster parents were also unavailable for comment, but….

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

August, sixteen years earlier

“D o you love me, Nick?” Meg Thornton asked, batting her eyelashes up at him as she leaned against his chest.

Fourteen-year-old Nick Cassidy felt his throat close up. They were hiding from the vile Chad Spencer behind a bank of rocks, wedged into the cool crevices, shaded from the Kentucky summer sun. In the distance, a riot of adolescent voices cut the air.

There he was. Chad, the pretty boy.

They were both breathing hard, and Nick could feel Meggie’s twelve-year-old heart tripping against his arm. He moved his face away from the strawberry-tart scent of her hair. This felt weird, shielded from everyone else, huddled alone with Meggie.

As the voices drew nearer, she looked up at him with those big green eyes. Eyes like the center of a marble, clear and cool. Something to keep from the other kids after you tucked it into your pocket.

Nick had no idea what to say to Meggie. He didn’t want to hurt the only kid in Kane’s Crossing who treated him like a human being. And as if the youngsters weren’t bad enough, the adults here—except for his new foster family and Meggie’s aunt—also treated him like yesterday’s trash. As if they could judge him after he’d lived here for only a year. Bunch of jerks.

Meggie sighed as she sat up, brushing at her fairy-wing-colored skirt, probably so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

Man, he hoped he hadn’t made Meggie mad. With the way her eyes had gone all puppy-dog sad, Nick knew he’d said something wrong.

He tore a piece of grass from the ground and stuck it between his teeth. “Don’t get all mushy on me, okay?”

“It’s all right.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Meggie tilt her red head into the waning sunlight, the fading colors warming her face under a caramel-hued mask.

Town legend had it that when she visited her aunt in Kane’s Crossing every summer, she looked more and more like a Gypsy, with her flared skirts and corkscrew-wild hair. No wonder some kids called Meggie a “witch.” Not that she cared. She and her aunt Valentine, living in that creepy house on the hill, just laughed at the townsfolk.

“I hope Chad Spencer doesn’t find us. I’m sick of his nasty talk,” Meggie said.

Nick’s hands fisted against his secondhand jeans. “No worries, Meggie,” he said. Footsteps stampeded on the bank above their heads, making his body tense.

A sharp laugh cut the air. Nick peered up, seeing a shadow crouched on the ridge above their rocks.

Chad Spencer’s words flew at them like stinging stones. “Aren’t you guys gonna French or something? Or doesn’t the foster-trash kid even know how to open his mouth?” A chorus of mean-spirited giggles followed.

Meggie narrowed her eyes, dying to burn Chad with a comeback, no doubt. But Nick shot her a silencing glance. Spencer’s beef was with him; the bully just wanted to make himself look good in front of her.

“Bug off,” he said, using a glare he’d been practicing just for a moment like this.