Claire McEwen - Return To Marker Ranch

This is one reunion both of them could do without

This is the chance she’s been waiting for to prove she can run her family’s ranch. And despite her many doubters, Lori Allen knows she’s doing a good job. Until the man who once broke her heart—Wade Hoffman—runs her well dry! And it turns out he’s got as much to prove as she does. After serving his country, Wade’s back to rebuild his family’s reputation and win his battle with PTSD.

With so much to lose, neither can afford to give in to temptation. But to succeed they must let go of old heartache and face up to bringing out each other’s worst, along with the best. And what doesn’t kill them...

“Who’s going to want to mentor a Hoffman?”

Wade shook his head and added, “C’mon, Lori, you know how people in this town must feel about me being back. You’re my only hope.”

She looked at Wade for a long moment. What he was proposing was dangerous. To her heart. To the regrets she kept locked away so they wouldn’t overwhelm her. But he was trying to make something of himself. Trying to prove himself. She understood that—she was living it.

“All right. We’ll try it.” She was crazy to agree, but how could she say no?

“Thank you,” he breathed, relief written stark across his face. “I promise I’ll try to take as little of your time as possible. And I’ll pay for Bill Cooper’s time when he helps us figure out the water share. I’m truly grateful, Lori.”

He was looking at her like she was his guardian angel, his salvation. And then the reality of this, of them, sent anxiety washing over her. How would he look at her if he knew what she’d done?

Dear Reader,

Return to Marker Ranch started out as a short story about two young people caught in a snowstorm together and forced to come to terms with their past. I entered the story in a contest, which it didn’t win, and then set it aside. But the characters, Wade Hoffman and Lori Allen, so in love, and so torn apart by the past, haunted me. I couldn’t stop thinking about them and the issues they were grappling with. I realized that they had to have their own book. But when I started writing, it quickly became clear that their story was much bigger than one book. So that first short story grew into the Sierra Legacy series.

I loved writing Wade and Lori’s book. And along the way it became so much more than a story for me. Wade’s attempts to fit into his hometown felt similar to my own struggles growing up in a troubled family and feeling like I’d never fit in anywhere. Lori’s efforts to never show weakness, and to work so hard to seem perfect, also felt familiar. Wade’s PTSD broke my heart as I read articles and learned more about the challenges that veterans face. And Lori came to represent all of the brave people who love our veterans and stand by them, even when it’s difficult.

I hope you enjoy Wade and Lori’s story of love, forgiveness and healing. To find out more about PTSD, or how to help veterans, please visit the resources page of my website, www.clairemcewen.com. And thank you for reading Return to Marker Ranch. I hope the story touches your heart the way it did mine.

Claire McEwen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CLAIRE MCEWEN lives by the ocean in Northern California with her husband, son and a scruffy, mischievous terrier, whose unique looks and goofy hijinks provided inspiration for an important character in Return to Marker Ranch. When not dreaming up new stories, Claire can be found digging in her garden with a lot of enthusiasm but, unfortunately, no green thumb. She loves discovering flea-market treasures, walking on the beach, dancing, traveling and reading, of course! Claire enjoys Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and Instagram, and likes musing about writing and all things romantic on her blog, Romance All Around Us. Please visit her website, clairemcewen.com, for more information.

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For my stepsister, Heather: a brave and dedicated soldier and pilot, a rescuer of cats, and a light in my childhood. Memories of her warmed my heart while I wrote this story.

And for animal lovers everywhere, who know that when we rescue an animal they rescue us too, and grow our hearts a few sizes bigger in the process.

And for Arik, who makes it all possible and keeps me believing in love.

Contents

COVER

BACK COVER TEXT

INTRODUCTION

Dear Reader

TITLE PAGE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

DEDICATION

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

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

EXTRACT

COPYRIGHT

CHAPTER ONE

LORI ALLEN TUGGED at the brim of her hat in a futile attempt to shade her eyes from the relentless blue sky. It was way too hot for this late in the fall. She scanned the granite ridges that towered behind her ranch. Heat waves shimmered between her and the peaks. No clouds. Again.

But heat or no heat, Lori couldn’t put it off any longer. She needed to get this pasture ready. The cattle she’d summered up in the high Sierra meadows had to come down. The Bureau of Land Management didn’t care that summer never seemed to end anymore. They’d fine her if she let the herd stay beyond the terms of the lease.

Leaning forward in the saddle, Lori nudged her mare up the rutted dirt road that bordered her upper pasture. She glanced at the neat rows of barbed wire with pride. There’d been plenty of time to mend fences last winter when the snow never came. Though she’d happily trade this perfect fence line for a few snowstorms.

Thanks to the drought, the only forage up here was brush and brown stubble. Maybe if she turned on the irrigation for a few days she could get some new grass started before she brought the cattle down. She glanced at the sky again. It was her only choice. Irrigate or pray for rain. And she’d been praying to deaf ears for a while now.

Dakota’s short, choppy gait took them quickly up the hill toward the well and the irrigation valves. The flaking gray metal of the storage tank came into view. Lori veered the mare alongside it and peeked at the gauge. And felt her heart stutter. “No...” she breathed, staring at the gauge. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Dakota’s ears flicked back instantly, as if the little quarter horse was trying to comprehend the sudden change in her rider’s mood.

Lori blinked, looked and blinked again. But nothing changed. The tank was empty.

No. No, no, no. The words hammered along with her heart. She’d heard of wells running dry a little south of here, but this one was supplied by mountain runoff, and there had been some snow up on the highest peaks last winter. It would make sense for the well to be low...but empty? Impossible.