Jodi Thomas - Indigo Lake

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Two families long divided by an ancient feud. Can a powerful love finally unite them?Blade Hamilton is the last of his line. He's never even heard of Crossroads, Texas, until he inherits land there. Riding in on his vintage Harley-Davidson, Blade finds a weathered ranch house, an empty prairie and a dark river that cuts a decisive path between the Hamiltons' land and that of their estranged neighbours.When Dakota helps a stranger on the roadside, she isn't prepared for the charisma of the man on the motorbike—or for the last name he bears: Hamilton—her family's sworn enemies, representing all she's been raised to loathe. The problem is, it looks like Blade is in town to stay, and there's something about his wolf-grey eyes she just can't ignore.Lauren Brigman feels adrift. Unhappy in work and unlucky in love, she knows she ought to be striving for more, but she's never truly at peace unless she's at home in Crossroads. If the wider world can't satisfy her, is home truly where her heart is?

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“Do you think Reid’s father knows what he’s doing?”

“I don’t think he cares. Most of the good pastureland is already gone and who will want a big house in the middle of nowhere? But once the land’s gone, it’s gone. If I had the money, I’d be tempted to buy it and show Reid what a ranch like that could be. If profits were poured back into the operation it would really be something, but they’ve been bleeding it dry for years.”

This Lucas, Lauren understood. The planner. The kid who was born on a horse and loved the land. If he ever got the chance, he’d build a ranch just like he built a career in law.

Only ranches like the big ones in Texas were inherited, not bought.

She brushed Lucas’s hand. “You’re losing the place where you grew up.”

“Yeah, but it was never mine. My folks moved into the foreman’s house not long after they married, but it wasn’t theirs. The place where they raised their kids vanished in forty-eight hours.”

Lauren understood but didn’t know how to help. “The memories will be with you, Lucas. The love in that house lives on.”

“Right,” he answered quickly. “But I swear before I ever bring a child into this world, I’ll have a place that’s mine.”

Another hurdle, she thought. Lucas had to have everything right, everything in place before he’d allow himself to think about living his life. There would never be enough time for all his dreams...enough time for her in his life.

A light began to glow from the north, almost like the sun had decided to come up early in a new location.

They turned and watched it for a few heartbeats, then Lucas whispered, “Fire!” as if saying the word too loud would make it real. “It’s on the Bar W. Dad and the cowhands aren’t there to deal with it.”

Lauren stood watching in disbelief. The Bar W, Collins land. She knew little about ranches, but she knew fire in this open country could be deadly.

He grabbed her hand and they started running toward the front of the pickup.

“I’ll call 9-1-1,” she shouted as she climbed in the passenger side of his truck.

Lucas nodded and headed across the open pasture. “Where’s your car?”

“About half a mile back on the road.”

He was there before she could finish her call.

As she climbed out of the truck, Lucas yelled over the incoming storm, “Get out of here as fast as you can. I don’t think it will spread on this wet grass, but you don’t want to be caught in the middle of a grass fire.”

She watched the flames shooting high in the air. “It’s not a grass fire.” It was too big. Grass fires crawl along the ground. This was shooting thirty feet straight up.

He followed her gaze as another flame shot into the black sky a mile to the left of them. “You’re right,” he said. “Something or someone is burning the barn. If it catches grass, it might spread to Kirkland land. I’ll call him.”

A half mile away, another flame shot up.

“Another barn,” Lucas shouted. “This is no accident.”

She reached for her car door, but just before she stepped in she heard him say, “I’ll find you when this is over. It’s time you and I had a talk, Lauren. Until then, stay away from the fires.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“HELLO, DARLIN’,” SHERIFF Dan Brigman said into his cell phone as he drove toward the Collins ranch. “I know I’m calling early, but I’m headed out to a barn fire and might not get a chance to call before you go to sleep.”

“Anything bad?” Brandi’s voice came through, making him miss her ten times more than he had a minute ago.

“No. You know nothing ever happens around here. How was your flight to Nashville?”

“I started missing you before I got off the plane. I slept part of the way and had this great dream about you.”

Dan smiled. He loved his wife’s sexy low voice. “Tell me about it tomorrow night. I don’t want to be driving and accidently miss a word.” He couldn’t stop thinking how beautiful she’d looked when she left this morning. “I miss you. Wish I could have gone with you this time. I know it’s only a few weeks, but it’ll seem like an eternity here without you.”

“I know. I feel the same, but I’ll be working most of the time. The band is already here. They’ll watch out for me. We’ll start rehearsals tomorrow. I’ll be home before you know it.”

“I’ll be waiting. Better say good-night. I’m almost to the ranch. I can see the barn burning even before I pull off.”

“Night,” she whispered, then added, “Be careful.”

He drove the last mile thinking of his wife and not some fire in a barn on a ranch no one cared about. The owner had been gone for years, and his son ran the place like it was his own ATM. Dan had heard that the foreman, along with a few dozen cowboys, had all been fired yesterday.

Brandi, his wife, was three states away trying to get some sleep. How could he miss a woman so much who’d only been gone a few hours? When this duty was over Dan knew he’d be tempted to go home and call her again. Just to say good-night one more time.

He’d married her late into his forties. They might never make it to dance at their fiftieth anniversary party. He’d just have to love her in double time for the rest of his life to catch up.

CHAPTER FIVE

ONE BY ONE, Dakota turned on the lights in the beautiful old stucco home on Indigo Lake that her grandparents had built in the twenties. The day had exhausted her. She’d spent most of her time talking to people who didn’t know what they wanted in a house. Window-shoppers were just part of the job; they didn’t seem to realize that she didn’t make money if they didn’t buy.

Once in a while, when everything went wrong, she wanted to scream all the way to heaven. “I can’t take it anymore. Not one more step. Not one more ounce of worry. Not one more day of people wasting my time. I’m not strong enough to carry the load.”

But she had to be. There was no one else.

Just as she reached for the light in the kitchen, a gentle voice whispered from the shadows. “About time you got home, little sister.”

Dakota forced a smile as she flipped on the light. “Sorry I’m late.” Being home before dark was a rule she’d agreed to years ago. Not that Maria would ever complain.

“Did you get all the canning supplies?” Maria moved toward her, gliding one hand slowly over the counter. “I thought I heard someone else on the porch.”

“Yes to both.” Dakota tried to sound lighthearted but today seemed stormy everywhere. “I got everything you ordered. Even picked up extra jars while they’re on sale. Wes, at the store, helped me load them. If that man gets any quieter he’ll be a mute.” She followed her sister toward the porch. “And, you’re not going to believe it, Maria, but there’s another Hamilton alive.”

“You saw one?” Her sister turned back so quickly her dark, curly hair floated like a cape around her shoulders.

“Not only saw, I loaned him our pickup.” Dakota had already concluded that that decision probably hadn’t been a bright move. First, he was a Hamilton. Second, he was a stranger. Third, he was a biker. Maybe she should have thought twice about being neighborly. The only thing the guy lacked was a prison shirt hand-painted with Looking for My Next Victim.

“Let’s go kill him now and save some time.” Maria laughed as she slapped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. That just came out. Killing Hamiltons must be deeply buried in my DNA.”

Dakota didn’t want to admit she’d already thought of that. “It’s been a hundred years since the Hamilton-Davis feud began. Maybe we should do some research to see if anyone remembers what started it. Maybe Grandmother’s stories might just be that—stories.”

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