Love in the Storm - Signed Paperback

When she's snowed in with the handsome man who doesn't remember arresting her, she might get a second chance at a first impression.

Lyric Woods has been sober for years now, but nothing about picking herself up from rock bottom has been easy. She’s behind on bills and on the verge of getting evicted, still paying for the mistakes of her past. When she is stranded with the police officer who doesn't remember her, she's afraid to reveal her secret.

Asa Scott isn’t complaining about being stranded with the beautiful Lyric. The kind woman tending his wounds after a wreck in the storm is the first to make him think he could move on after his wife’s death. But when he finds out about her record, he can't reconcile the woman from the past with the woman who cared for him at the cabin.

When Lyric needs his help after they’re rescued, Asa hopes they'll both get a chance to mend the wounds of the past.

Despite his fears, Asa can’t fight the way he feels about the resilient woman who helped him. But when it looks like Lyric has fallen back into her old ways, will Asa trust the evidence or believe the woman he’s falling for and fight to clear her name?

If you loved the Blackwater Ranch series and the Wolf Creek Ranch series, get ready to fall in love all over again in Blackwater, Wyoming.

Wind pushed against the truck door as Asa stepped out into the swirling snow. Wrapping his arms around the overflowing bags, he shoved the door closed with his elbow and ran through the white night toward Mrs. Grant’s house. The freezing air pierced his eyes, causing them to sting as he bounded onto the small, covered porch.

Asa adjusted the bags in his arms to press the doorbell with his knuckle. The chime was barely audible over the gale-force winds. He rubbed one watery eye against his shoulder and then the other.

He hadn’t thought this through very well. Mrs. Grant was pushing ninety, and he might be standing there a while before she got up and made her way to the door to let him in.

“I’m coming. Hold your horses,” Mrs. Grant chided from inside.

“It’s me, Asa Scott.”

When she finally opened the door, her short, white hair was flat on one side and puffy on the other, and her glasses sat askew on the bridge of her nose.

“Mom didn’t want to be out in the storm tonight, so she sent me to deliver your dinner.” He lifted the bags under his arms, indicating the spread of food that would no doubt last this little old woman until next week.

“Come on in,” she said, scooting her walker out of the doorway.

Asa stepped into the warm cabin, and a shiver rocked his whole body. He wasn’t a stranger to harsh winter weather, but this blizzard was coming fast and strong.

“Just put it over there.” Mrs. Grant pointed a skeletal finger toward a round table in the kitchen covered in mail and magazines.

Asa put the bags on the table and started unpacking the food. His gaze drifted to the window every few seconds. The blizzard was only getting worse, and he wasn’t looking forward to that narrow mountain road that lay between here and home.

Mrs. Grant waved a withered hand. “You go on home. Tell your mama I said thanks for the food. She’s so good to come all the way out here every week.”

So good was an understatement. His mother made meals for quite a few elderly people in town. Betty Scott was in the running for sainthood for sure.

“I’ll make sure she knows. Anything I can do for you while I’m here?”

Mrs. Grant was already opening the food containers. “Not that I can think of, but I appreciate the offer.”

Asa snuck another glance out the window. “Then I’d better get going.” Even as he said the words, a tug-of-war started inside him. He didn’t like knowing Mrs. Grant was up on the mountain alone, but the stubborn woman refused to move closer to town.

Her resistance was somewhat understandable when the weather conditions weren’t dangerous. Mr. Grant had died over fifteen years ago, but his widow couldn’t let go of the memories.

Unfortunately, Asa didn’t have any room to talk about moving on. He’d been stuck in the same rut as Mrs. Grant for years with no sign of climbing out.

Mrs. Grant followed him toward the door, holding up her walker so it levitated off the floor instead of using it for stability. “Stop by again sometime. How’s that boy of yours doing?”

“He’s great. Growing like a weed.” Asa laid a hand on the doorknob, eager to get on his way. His mom would rouse the entire police force if he didn’t check in with her soon.

“He’s a handsome one. I always thought he looked just like you with that dark hair. I know Danielle would be proud of him.”

Mrs. Grant’s shaky, wistful tone did nothing to quell the stabbing in Asa’s chest at the mention of his late wife. The old woman was right, Danielle would have loved watching their son grow up. The injustice never ceased to punch a hole in his gut.

“See you later, Mrs. Grant. Call me if you ever need anything.”

“I will. Be careful out there.”

Asa gave the old woman a small wave as he jogged out into the cold night. The icy wind pelted his face, and the air stabbed in his lungs. When he closed the truck door, the howling wind in the dark night had chills rushing down his spine.

He started the truck and focused on the little patch of road illuminated by the headlights. The narrow path was almost invisible under the snow. He had chains and four-wheel drive for a reason, but sometimes even the best preparations weren’t enough.

The ringing of his phone through the Bluetooth speakers jerked Asa’s focus from the road. His son’s name lit up on the dash screen, and he pressed the steering wheel button to answer the call.

“Hey, buddy. I can’t talk right now.”

“Are you okay? Granny is freaking out.”

It sounded like Jacob was freaking out a little too.

“I’m fine. Just trying to focus on driving.”

“Okay. I wish you were here,” Jacob whispered.

Asa sometimes forgot that his son was still a kid. He was smart for a ten-year-old, but things like storms could still be scary, even if Jacob would never admit it out loud.

Asa turned on the steady, sure voice he used to calm frantic victims when he was on the clock. “You’re safe. There’s no need to worry.”

Jacob paused as if still unconvinced. “Okay. I have a lot of homework tonight.”

Asa leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at the clash of light and dark ahead of the truck. “You get started, and I’ll check it when I get home.”

“I need to build a rocket, and I don’t know where to start.”

Another slash of heartache ripped his chest. Science was Danielle’s favorite subject. She should be here building a rocket with their son.

“I’ll help you as soon as I get home,” Asa promised again.

“You didn’t send me any money for the book fair today,” Jacob said.

Asa pounded the steering wheel with his fist. The book fair. He’d forgotten all about it. “Sorry. I’ll send money tomorrow.” Inching around the dark curve, Asa kept his eyes on the limited road ahead of him.

“Okay. Will you be home soon?”

“As soon as I can.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, buddy. Don’t worry about the storm. You’re safe with Granny.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Asa waited until the call disconnected before huffing out a nervous breath. Visibility had diminished to almost nothing. There would be a lot of emergency calls tonight. It was only a matter of time before he got the call for backup at the police department. He’d only been home long enough to change out of his uniform before his mom asked him to take dinner to Mrs. Grant.

No wonder Jacob was upset all the time. Asa hadn’t been home much all week. Between school, work, and errands, there was little time left for just hanging out together.

His first thought was the injustice. Always. Jacob should have his mom at home with him tonight, but cancer hadn’t cared about the fairness of it all when it took Asa’s wife and Jacob’s mom.

No, he couldn’t think about the hurt right now when he needed all his focus on the winding road. It was barely after six in the evening, but every inch that wasn’t covered in snow was as black as midnight.

A loud crack like a gunshot pierced the night. A thick tree fell from the cliff above the road, crashing down as if in slow motion.

Asa gripped the wheel and stomped too hard on the brake. His jaw tensed as he willed the truck to stop, but the vehicle slid smoothly over the icy road, careening toward the tree that thudded to the ground in front of him. Snow and ice shot into the air like a wave. The dark trunk blocked the road from one side to the other.

The seconds before impact were palpable, full of fear and knowing. Nothing but the massive tree would stop the force of the truck.

Head-on or a side impact? Did it matter at this point?

At the last second, Asa turned the wheel, but the tires never gained traction. The impact slammed through the truck, rocking Asa’s entire body and plunging everything into darkness.