Mia Ross - Hometown Family

The law says…come home!

Since when is prodigal son Matt Sawyer a small-town farmer surrounded by kin? Since the terms of his late father’s will demand he stay in Harland, North Carolina. Terms that attorney and hometown gal Caty McKenzie has to ensure are carried out. Matt left Harland years ago and never looked back. But running the farm and spending time with Caty brings out a caring, faithful side of Matt that he didn’t know existed. And Matt’s soon to discover the real challenge: convincing love-shy Caty to stay right there with him.

“After my mom died, it was really hard to be here. I left Harland the day after graduation.”

Matt had never shared that with anyone, and he had no idea why he’d picked now to bare his soul. Caty put an arm partway around his shoulders, and he felt himself leaning into her.

He didn’t know why, but just having her there made him feel slightly less miserable. When he realized he wasn’t fighting it, he knew he’d gotten way too close to this sweet, understanding stranger.

Angry with himself for losing his grip, he pulled away and got to his feet. “I don’t know why I told you all that.”

“Told me what?” she responded lightly. “We’re just out here, getting some fresh air.”

Her smile promised she’d keep his emotional meltdown to herself, and he managed a halfhearted one of his own. “Thanks… You introduced yourself as Caitlin, but everyone calls you Caty. Which do you like better?”

She shrugged. “Whichever.”

After studying her for a few seconds, he decided, “I like Caty. Suits you better.”

MIA ROSS

loves great stories. She enjoys reading about fascinating people, long-ago times, and exotic places. But only for a little while, because her reality is pretty sweet. Married to her college sweetheart, she’s the proud mom of two amazing kids, whose schedules keep her hopping. Busy as she is, she can’t imagine trading her life for anyone else’s—and she has a pretty good imagination. You can visit her online at www.miaross.com.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

If you can believe, all things are possible.

—Mark 9:23

Dedication:

For Elaine

Acknowledgments:

First on this list is my editor, Melissa Endlich,

who generously took me under her wing

and made a place for me at Love Inspired Books.

Waving to all the wonderful folks at Seekerville (www.seekerville.blogspot.com) who offer advice when I need it and always make me smile.

Donna, you taught me how the law should work.

I hope you see some of yourself in Caty. Misty, no matter what, you can always make me smile. Beth and Elijah, you patiently listen to endless writer talk and remind me how cute little boys are.

Most of all, I’m grateful to my family and friends for hanging in there with me through the

tough times and celebrating the bright ones.

I couldn’t have done this without you.

Contents

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

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Caty McKenzie hated funerals.

As an attorney, she’d attended dozens of them, for personal and professional reasons, but she would never get used to them. Some were heart wrenching, others were just generally sad, but no matter the circumstances, she couldn’t wait until the solemn ceremonies were over.

It was a two-hour drive from Charlotte, North Carolina, to her hometown. She pushed the speed limit most of the way and by the time she arrived in Harland, there wasn’t a single parking space open near the church. Cars lined both sides of the street, and people were walking in from as far away as Main Street. She wedged her MG convertible into a spot reserved for motorcycles and hurried toward the oldest of the four churches that framed the town square. At the top of the steps, she found a hand-lettered sign tacked to the open door.

“Our little church is not large enough to hold everyone this morning. Please join us on the south lawn to honor our brother Ethan Sawyer.”

She looked through the stained-glass window over the altar to see what must be more than two hundred people seated in chairs, on benches, some sitting on the ground or just standing. The outpouring of respect for Ethan made her throat swell, and her vision blurred with tears she didn’t dare shed. Once she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop. To get through this awful day, she had to be strong and composed. Later, when she was alone, she’d give in and cry her eyes out.

Caty went back down the steps and headed across the grass. It was a bright August morning, with sun streaming down through the leaves on the trees while birds circled overhead, chirping to each other. To her mind, the beautiful weather didn’t match up with the congregation’s somber clothing and muted conversation. Today they were burying one of her favorite people in the world. It should have been gloomy and dark, not cheerful and bright.

As she searched for a place to sit, she glanced toward the podium at the head of the makeshift aisle. Wearing his customary gray suit and paisley tie, Pastor Charles was talking to an incredibly tall, broad-shouldered man with dark, curly hair. He looked vaguely familiar, and she actually did a double take.

Matt Sawyer.

Caty hadn’t seen him in, what? Ten years? Fifteen? She was in junior high when he had graduated from high school and left without a backward glance, off to adventures she could only imagine. Not that it mattered. Even back then, he probably couldn’t have picked her out of a three-person lineup. A North Carolina all-state linebacker four years running, in high school he was good-looking, self-assured and cocky. She’d admired him in a general way, but they had never been friends. You couldn’t be friends with someone who didn’t even know you existed.

Judging by his stiff posture, he was uncomfortable being here, and she couldn’t recall ever seeing him in church with his family. Caty didn’t realize she was staring until his gaze swung her way. It wasn’t her memory of her teenage years playing tricks on her—he really did have the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Accented by the determined set of his jaw, today those eyes were filled with misery. Caty knew she’d looked much the same at her grandfather’s funeral three years ago. No matter how long one had been away, it was always heartbreaking to come home to say goodbye to a loved one.

At a loss, she sent him a sympathetic look. All she got in return was a puzzled frown before he joined his family. One of his sisters leaned in and said something to him, but he scowled and shook his head. Undeterred, she said something else. His warning glare got through to her, and she gave up, facing forward with an exasperated sigh.

Calling for their attention, Pastor Charles addressed the crowd with arms outstretched. “If you’ll all take your seats, we’ll begin.”

Caty found an empty seat near the back and perched on the very edge of the bench. Aunts, uncles and cousins of the Sawyers clustered around them, lending support on what must have been a horrible day for them. Pastor Charles, bless his heart, announced that he’d keep things short due to the warm day. For Ethan’s children and grandkids, the brief ceremony was a godsend.