Sheltered in His Arms. Tara Quinn Taylor

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      He’d promised to love her forever.

      “Oh, God, Sam. Why?”

      Her words sounded shockingly loud in the night. Cassie took a long, shuddering breath. How many times had she asked the same question over the past ten years?

      “Can’t you at least just leave me in peace?” she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes.

      She used to dream of great things. Of love and family and children. Of happiness and warmth. Now all she hoped for was peace. It was the only option left.

      “Cassie? You out here?”

      It was Zack. Her partner. Her friend. He’d know how she was feeling. Without her saying a word, he’d know.

      His footsteps were getting closer. Cassie pulled herself in, hardly daring to breathe as she waited for him to pass. She couldn’t face him yet. Couldn’t face anyone.

      Not until she was sure she wouldn’t fall apart. She’d done that once, back then, suffered a debilitating breakdown, and emotional collapse.

      She’d done it after Sam had left her, after her baby girl had died, after she’d been told she’d probably never be able to conceive again.

      But those dark days had helped her find the strength and awareness she needed. She’d gone on to finish college, to become a nationally renowned doctor of veterinary science. She was successful. She wasn’t going to fall apart again just because her adulterous ex-husband had decided to return to town.

      Though she couldn’t help wondering why he was coming back. The way she remembered it, he hadn’t been able to leave fast enough. And he hadn’t been in touch with any of them since—other than infrequent calls to his parents to let them know he was okay. And to make certain that they were.

      What had he been doing all these years? And with whom?

      These were questions Cassie had tried so hard never to ask.

      What had the years done to him? Another question she’d shied away from. But one that was apparently to be answered soon.

      Were his eyes still that deep green? Did they still have that penetrating directness? Her stomach tightened just thinking about them. About what a look from him used to do to her.

      One time, she’d been looking for him in the high-school cafeteria. Her class right before lunch had gotten out late and she hadn’t seen him in line. She’d gone through, anyway. Bought a salad and a soda, and was standing there with her tray, wondering what to do when she’d seen him come in through the door at the back of the room. He’d been frowning—until he saw her. And then his eyes had lighted with such familiar, knowing warmth that her belly had fluttered, her knees had fluttered—and she’d dropped her tray.

      Sam had always been a looker. Was he still?

      Was his dark hair still as soft as the finest silk, still as thick?

      Did he have any of the wrinkles she’d been noticing around her own eyes lately? Had he gained any weight?

      Sniffling, Cassie wiped the tears from her cheeks. God, she missed him.

      Missed the boy she’d loved since she was twelve years old. The man she’d married—and lost—more than a decade ago.

      She missed the dreams. And the dreaming.

      “Damn you, Sam Montford,” she whispered, sniffling again. “Damn you for what you did. And for coming back now…”

      The man might return to Shelter Valley, but as far as Cassie was concerned, he’d lost the right to call this town home.

      MARIAH WAS STILL ASLEEP. Sam’s heart swelled with love—and worry—as he glanced over at the child on the reclining passenger seat beside him. He should have sold the truck, bought a car. Something she could get into without climbing up on hands and knees.

      Something that felt more like it belonged to a family than a roaming man.

      Mariah might not know it, might not believe him when he told her, but they were almost home. At last.

      In all the years he’d lived in Shelter Valley, the place had never felt as much like home as it did now. This journey back was so important. So life-changing. So right.

      And so damn scary.

      But he was ready.

      The little girl stirred, her skinny legs stiffening as she stretched. Their boniness, visible beneath her new denim shorts, scared him. She’d been wearing pants all winter, and her loss of weight hadn’t been as noticeable. Or maybe he’d just been too afraid to acknowledge that she was wasting away.

      He had to get her to eat more. To eat, period. He wasn’t going to let her die. He wasn’t going to lose her, too.

      “Good afternoon, sleepyhead,” Sam said cheerfully, smiling at the little girl who’d stolen his heart in the delivery room seven years before. Her parents, his closest friends in the world, had insisted he be there with them. “How’s my girl?”

      Mariah looked at him.

      That was all. Just looked. It was all she ever did anymore.

      Heart heavy, Sam continued with cheerful chatter. Keep talking to her, the doctors had told him. Surround her with love. She’ll never forget the tragedy, but she can recover.

      He’d been talking for six months.

      And Mariah had yet to say a word.

      “You just wait until you meet your new grandparents,” Sam told the child. “I was an only child, too, just like you. And my mom and dad were the greatest. You’ll love them, but they’ll love you more. Not that you need to let that worry you. That’s just the way they are.”

      The landscape was painfully, blissfully familiar. Yet different.

      “Mom makes the best chocolate chip cookies in the world.” He glanced over again and decided to feel encouraged by the fact that Mariah was still watching him. Even if that was about all she ever did.

      Maybe she was listening, too.

      “Sometimes, when I was a kid, I’d sneak down from my bed at night, just to have another one of those cookies. I tried really hard to be as quiet as a mouse so I wouldn’t get caught,” Sam said. The smile he’d plastered on his face, became real as he remembered those days. “Every time a step creaked, my stomach would jump and I’d stand still and not breathe until I was sure my mom hadn’t heard me.”

      Mariah blinked, her sad little face turned up toward his. Shelter Valley was going to be good for her. It had to be. If the answers weren’t there, if the love in Shelter Valley wasn’t enough to heal her, nothing would.

      “The cookie jar was this big glass thing and the lid was really heavy and I’d have to lift it really carefully…”

      The approaching sign said Shelter Valley, One Mile. The sign was new.

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