Patricia Thayer - Rocky Mountain Brides - Raising the Rancher's Family

Dear Reader,

I love beginning a new series. I had so much fun creating the small town of Destiny, Colorado, and the people who live and work there, where families are the foundation, and the roots run deep in the close community.

Tim and Claire Keenan were blessed years ago when three little girls were left in their care. Morgan, Paige and Leah Keenan are the basis for these stories.

The first is Leah’s story, Raising the Rancher’s Family . When photographer Leah Keenan returns home from a tragedy during her travels, she runs headlong into stubborn rancher Holt Rawlins. The sparks fly, but so does the compassion as they help each other heal.

Then there’s Paige’s story, The Sheriff’s Pregnant Wife . After being jilted, and ending up pregnant, attorney Paige Keenan moves home to open a law practice and be with her family to raise her baby. Soon, her once-boyfriend Sheriff Reed Larkin is hanging around, playing the part of stand-in daddy.

In the third story, A Mother for the Tycoon’s Child , Morgan has emotional scars from her past. Now the mayor, she is doing everything she can to bring revenue into town. When tycoon Justin Hilliard arrives in Destiny to invest in a resort, he becomes twice as appealing when she meets his five-year-old child. In no time the father/daughter duo work their way into Morgan’s heart.

I hope you enjoy visiting all the places in my stories that make Destiny so special.

Thanks for reading,

Patricia Thayer

Originally born and raised in Muncie, Indiana, PATRICIA THAYERis the second of eight children. She attended Ball State University, and soon afterwards headed West. Over the years she’s made frequent visits back to the Midwest, trying to keep up with her growing family.

Patricia has called Orange County, California, home for many years. She not only enjoys the warm climate, but also the company and support of other published authors in the local writers’ organisation. For the past eighteen years she has had the unwavering support and encouragement of her critique group. It’s a sisterhood like no other.

When she’s not working on a story, you might find her travelling the United States and Europe, taking in the scenery and doing story research while thoroughly enjoying herself, accompanied by Steve, her husband for over thirty-five years. Together they have three grown sons and four grandsons. As she calls them, her own true-life heroes. On her rare days off from writing you might catch her at Disneyland, spoiling those grandkids rotten! She also volunteers for the Grandparent Autism Network.

Patricia has written for over twenty years and has authored over thirty-six books. She has been nominated for both the National Readers’ Choice Award and the prestigious RITA ®. Her book Nothing Short of a Miracle won a Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice award.

A long-time member of Romance Writers of America, she has served as President and held many other board positions for her local chapter in Orange County. She’s a firm believer in giving back.

Check her website at www.patriciathayer.com for upcoming books.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SHE was finally home …

Leah Keenan drew a shaky breath as she drove the narrow road that led up the mountain. To the safe haven of Destiny, Colorado, where she’d grown up surrounded by love and the security of her two sisters and their adoptive parents. It had been twenty-seven years since the day when she, Morgan and Paige had been left at the Keenan Inn.

But she wasn’t the same idealistic, fun-loving girl who had left the small town three years ago. The cruelty of the world had managed to change her.

For the past month she’d fought the recurring memories, but with no success. Memories of the Middle East where she’d been photographing the horrors of war for Our World magazine. She’d seen so much horror—the bombs, the gunfire, the death and destruction. She just finished filming the earthquake and seen the hundreds of thousands of homeless.

And, oh God, the children …

At the sound of a horn, Leah swerved just in time to miss the oncoming car. Shaken, she pulled her rental car to the side of the road and shut off the engine. In the silence Leah could hear the sound of her pounding heart. She had to get herself together.

After a few minutes, she climbed out and drew in a breath of clean mountain air. She slowly began to relax as she eyed the familiar area. White Aspen trees lined the road, their new growth and rich green leaves promising spring had arrived in southern Colorado. Her gaze rose to the San Juan Mountain Range, the Rocky terrain blanketed by huge pine trees. At the very top were patches of leftover snow from the previous winter.

Leah smiled, suddenly feeling adventurous. As a kid she’d hiked through these foothills as if they were her backyard, and her daring spirit had driven her parents crazy.

Luckily on her flight from Durango she’d worn her standard work clothes—a cotton blouse, pullover sweater, khaki pants and lace-up boots.

Grabbing her trusty camera off the seat, Leah marched to the fence and a sign that read, No Trespassing. Since the landowner, John Rawlins was a friend, she ignored it. She easily climbed over the wire fence, decided the direction she planned to go and set out on the narrow trail.

Leah made her way through the trees toward the mountainside. A doe appeared in the grove of trees and she paused to snap a picture. The serene beauty of this place helped to soothe her. Eager to reach her destination, she picked up her pace. After another fifty yards, she could hear the sound of water.

In the shade of the trees it grew cool, but she let nothing slow her until she reached the clearing. She stared in awe at the sight and sound of water rushing over the sheer ledge of mountainside into the rocky bottom of the pond below. Years ago, she’d named this special place Hidden Falls. Since adolescence, this had always been her private retreat, her escape where she could daydream.

A sudden movement caught her eye. She glanced toward the base of the falls to find a small child squatting down on a rock and washing in the water. He looked about eight years old, she thought as she snapped a picture of him, then glanced around to look for anyone else in the vicinity. Like a parent.

Not another person in sight.

Leah moved closer and the kid suddenly jerked around and caught sight of her. There was fear in his eyes as he stumbled backward, then regained his footing and took off.

“Hey, wait,” she called after him. “I’m not going to hurt you. Are you lost? I have a phone in the car.”

The kid didn’t stop. He darted through the trees like a mountain lion. Leah followed, but the youngster was too fast. “It’s going to get dark soon,” she yelled, but the boy was gone.

Okay, he so wasn’t going to come to her. Refusing to give up, she continued through the trees as she checked her watch. It was after three o’clock.

“He didn’t even have a jacket,” she murmured, knowing how cold it would get after nightfall.

Then in the distance she spotted a figure on horseback. As he approached she could see he was a large man with a black Stetson pulled low over his face. Suddenly her attention was drawn to the rifle he held across his saddle horn. She suddenly felt fear, something she’d thought she’d left behind.