A Western Winter Wonderland by Cheryl St. John, Jenna Kernan, Pam Crooks
I do so adore Jenna Kernan’s Turner’s Woman and Winter Woman. They are her second and first (yeah they are in my fave order not publishing order 🙂 ) Harlequin Historicals and if you can find them, buy them!
The following is an excerpt from her novella in A Western Winter Wonderland.
And you can find the first chapter up on her site. If you missed it, Cheryl St.John’s excerpt was posted yesterday and Pam Crooks will be up tomorrow.
Enjoy!
FALLEN ANGEL by Jenna Kernan
When Ford Statler is ambushed, he never sees the woman caught in the crossfire until it’s too late. But his bullet brought her down, so it’s his responsibility to nurse her back to health and see that her boy has the best Christmas ever.
“Whoa there.”
She turned in surprise toward the male voice and stared in confusion at the stranger who rested a firm hand upon her shoulder.
Where was she and where was her son?
He pressed but she resisted settling back. She knew him, had seen him somewhere. Then she recalled him wiping her brow with a cool cloth. Was that a dream?
“My son?” she whispered.
“Right as rain and frisky as a pup.”
“Where is he?”
“Fetching his Mama some broth.”
Still she did not believe him. She needed to see her boy with her own eyes, to be certain this was not some cruel trick.
“He’ll be back two shakes of a lamb’s tail, I’d imagine. Anyways, you’re the one we’re all fussin’ about.”
Abby took her gaze from the door, drawn by that velvety voice with its easy reassurance and soothing tenor. It brought her to stillness as she turned to regard the man sitting beside her bed as if she were his concern. But no one cared about what happened to her, not since Henry discovered there would be no reconciliation with her parents, and so no money forthcoming. Henry had wanted her for one reason only and had left without a backward glance. Small consolation that he didn’t get so much as a dime, but then, neither had she. A hard life-lesson that, but she had gotten Danny and he was more valuable to her than any fortune.
Her guardian’s clean-shaven face made it easy to admire his strong jaw, punctuated by an appealing cleft at the center. High, prominent cheekbones and unruly chestnut brown hair, that brushed his collar, added to his good looks. But it was his eyes, which were the gray-green color of dried sage grass that scorched her with their intensity. In them she recognized an air of danger and so she was not fooled by the gentle smile curving his lips. The man exuded a primal aura that frightened her.
She eased her back onto the pile of pillows, simply to be free of the heat of his disturbing touch.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Name’s Ford.”
“Why were you worried about me?”
“You’re the one’s been shot. Don’t you recall?”
Shot? Yes, she remembered now, both the blood and the pain. She shrugged her shoulder and winced.
“That’s right.” Again, he cast her a reassuring smile that never reached his compelling eyes. “I see it’s comin’ back.”
“Who shot me?” But she remembered that too. It swept over her like a northeastern wind, the ambush, wrestling with the large man for the gun as her son called for help.
“You’re the man on the road. You’re the man who…”
The warmth left his smile as he finished her sentence. “Who shot you.”
Harlequin Historical is a registered trademark of Harlequin Enterprises Limited. As such all excerpts are copyrighted © by said publisher, and all rights are reserved by the publisher.
This is a fantastic story as were the other two also. I loved the fact that the heroine was shot instead of the other way around that I see so often. And I liked that he was so caring about her and her son’s welfare. The heroine’s little boy added real depth to this story. If anyone hasn’t bought this yet, I recommend it, especially if you love stories about Christmas.