Janice Johnson - The Hero's Redemption

When gratitude becomes friendship...and something more.

Cole Meacham has only been out of prison a couple of weeks after a ten-year term for a murder he didn’t commit. A silent, guarded man, he doesn’t know how to start over again now that he’s free. Destitute and alone, he’s been sleeping in a park. Then Erin Parrish offers him a job plus room and board. The woman with the haunted eyes seems to be the only person on earth who isn’t afraid of him. But she clearly has her own demons, and Cole watches as night after night his new boss and landlord gets in her vehicle and drives...somewhere. It seems she needs his help as much as he needs hers. If only he could be that man she can depend on. And love.

Cole had taught himself to sleep lightly.

He snapped to awareness when he heard a car door close with deliberate softness. Lying rigid, he listened. The digital clock Erin had put at the bedside said 2:33. Anyone coming or going in the middle of the night wouldn’t want to disturb the neighbors. Especially if that person was stealing a vehicle.

When the engine started, he knew it was Erin’s Jeep. He jumped out of bed, reaching the front window just before the dome light went out. In that instant, he saw her. While he watched, Erin reversed, then drove down the driveway. Brake lights flickered before she turned onto the street.

He didn’t welcome the uneasiness he felt as he stared out at the yard and street dimly lit by streetlights, the closest half a block away. Where was she going? Wouldn’t she have woken him if she had some kind of emergency?

His mouth tightened. Why would she? What was he but her charity project, after all?

She might have just been restless. He was projecting to think that whatever ghost haunted her and shadowed her eyes had sent her out into the night.

And, damn it, Cole didn’t want to feel any responsibility for another human being. Even so, he knew with icy certainty that he wouldn’t sleep again until she came home.

Dear Reader,

I’ve been interested for a long time in the experiences of the many men released from prison after very long terms because DNA evidence not available when they were convicted now proves their innocence. How Rip Van Winkle is that? What would it be like to rejoin the world after such a long absence?

Imagine going to bed one night and waking up years in the future, as he did in Washington Irving’s story. People you loved would have moved on without you or died; your children would be grown. What work history you have is outdated. Is there a place for you at all?

At least Rip had the advantage that day-to-day life hadn’t changed much. Now transfer that experience to the modern world. Something as simple as standing on a sidewalk with traffic rushing by can be terrifying when you’ve been shut away for so long. You’ve forgotten how to make conversation (especially with the opposite sex). And then there’s technology, which changes with breathtaking speed. You’re bewildered by smartphones, touch screens, car dashboards that look like they belong in the cockpit of a Boeing jet. And, oh, yeah, you don’t have a driver’s license, or a bank account, or acceptable credit history. Now take a deep breath, and best of luck out there.

Falling in love? That’s a whole other complication (and I so love to complicate the lives of my heroes and heroines).

So, here’s my Rip Van Winkle story.

Janice

The Hero’s Redemption

Janice Kay Johnson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

An author of more than ninety books for children and adults (more than seventy-five for Harlequin), JANICE KAY JOHNSON writes about love and family—about the way generations connect and the power our earliest experiences have on us throughout life. A USA TODAY bestselling author and an eight-time finalist for a Romance Writers of America RITA® Award, she won a RITA® Award in 2008 for her Harlequin Superromance novel Snowbound. A former librarian, Janice raised two daughters in a small town north of Seattle, Washington.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

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

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Extract

Copyright

PROLOGUE

“NO GUY IS ever going to be interested in me! I tower over all of them!” Alyssa Enger wailed from near the back of the extended van.

The other nine girls cried out in denial.

“Why did I have to take after my dad?” Alyssa moaned.

Erin Parrish hid her grin as she changed lanes on I-5 in northern California to pass a slow-moving RV. As head coach of Markham College’s women’s volleyball team, she also did the driving for away games. Her assistant coach, Charlotte Prentice, was considered too young at twenty-three to be trusted behind the wheel of a vehicle insured by the college.

Alyssa was the team’s middle blocker because she was six foot one. Erin had met her parents—a mom who, at only five-eight or so, was the shrimp in their family, a dad who had to be six foot six and two younger brothers who’d already shot past Alyssa in height.

“Boys are scared of you because you’re so beautiful,” declared Stephanie Bell, a setter. “And there are lots of guys taller than you.”

Maybe not “lots,” but some.

“Have you met Emmett Stark?” someone asked.

“Eeew!” several girls squealed.

Outright laughing now, Erin glanced at Charlotte, whose face was lit by laughter, too. Emmett Stark, freshman and Markham College’s JV basketball center, would surely grow into his body eventually. Right now, he was so skinny he looked ridiculous.

“We should dress you up as an Amazon for Halloween,” another girl said. Ella Pierce? “Maybe we could use gold paint, and you could carry a spear.”

“Where can we get a spear?” someone else asked eagerly.

“Ohh! I know.” Ginny Simacek bounced in delight. “My brother’s girlfriend did this volunteer thing in Africa, and she brought one home with her! I bet I can borrow it.”

Erin narrowed her eyes at the rearview mirror. Was Ginny wearing her seat belt? Could you bounce if you were wearing one? The girls had a way of taking their seat belts off for “just a minute,” because they had to grab a bag from under a seat or find a shoe that was kicked off, and then, oops, forgetting to fasten them again.

“Charlotte...” Erin began.

Motion caught from the corner of her eye spiked her adrenaline. She turned her head. All she took in was a swirl of dirt and the monster cab of a semitruck roaring straight at them across the median, rearing bigger and bigger. She wrenched the steering wheel and her foot sought the brake, even though she knew it was too late.

Then crunching metal, stabbing pain, screams. And nothingness.

CHAPTER ONE

JOLTED AWAKE, ERIN lay utterly still, her heart pounding. What—But the shuddering sense of horror answered an unfinished question. Which nightmare had it been? The crash itself? What she’d seen as she was extracted from all that was left of the van? The faces of parents? The empty seats in her classroom?