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A Weaver Vow (Return to the Double C Book 10), by Allison Leigh
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City girl seeks…
When Isabella Lockhart leaves New York for Weaver, Wyoming, she's keeping a vow—to provide a loving home for her late fiancé's little boy away from the bad influences of the big city. But trouble is this kid's middle name, and right away his antics put Isabella on a collision course with handsome rancher Erik Clay.
…small-town hero
Not that that's a bad thing! The real problem for Erik is the instant attraction he feels for this beautiful Big Apple transplant. The sworn bachelor just doesn't want to go there. But pretty soon, Erik realizes that he has a vow of his own to keep—to make this wounded woman whole again, starting with her heart….
- Sales Rank: #252168 in eBooks
- Published on: 2013-05-01
- Released on: 2013-05-01
- Format: Kindle eBook
About the Author
A frequent name on bestseller lists, Allison Leigh's highpoint as a writer is hearing from readers that they laughed, cried or lost sleep while reading her books. She credits her family with great patience for the time she's parked at her computer, and for blessing her with the kind of love she wants her readers to share with the characters living in the pages of her books. Contact her at www.allisonleigh.com
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
It was the yelling that got her attention.
Murphy. It was so easy to recognize his voice. Particularly when he was yelling at a few million decibels.
Her stomach sinking like a lead balloon, Isabella Lock-hart instantly dropped her cleaning rag on the lunch counter at Ruby's Cafe and raced for the door.
Locked.
Of course it was locked. She'd locked it herself just thirty minutes earlier. She darted back for the keys that Tabby Taggart had entrusted her with, finally spotting them on the stainless-steel work counter in the kitchen, where she'd left them after locking up the rear door.
She rushed back to the front entrance, fumbled with the lock, then burst out the glass door. Not only had the yelling continued, it was angrier than ever.
And it was all occurring smack-dab in the middle of Main Street, right there in front of the cafe, where a large, dusty blue pickup truck was parked.
Murphy, please don't get into more trouble.
The whispered prayer was much, much too familiar. Moving here to Weaver had been supposed to change that.
She ran toward the truck, toward the yelling, then nearly skidded to a halt at the sight of the thin boy glaring up at a tall, broad man who was glaring right back at him.
What concerned her most, however, was the baseball bat clenched in Murphy's white-knuckled fists. If he took the bat to one more thing…
She couldn't bear to think about it.
"You damn well did know what you were doing!" The man's deep voice was furious.
"It was an accident!" Murphy yelled back. "I told you that a hunnert times!"
"Murphy!" Isabella dashed between the two males, grabbing the bat as Murphy raised it. At eleven, he already topped five feet, and only the fact that she was wearing a bit of a wedge heel kept his eyes from being at a level with her own. She tugged on the bat hard, pressing her hand flat against his heaving chest, but his grip was equally tight. "Let it go!"
His mutinous brown eyes—so like his father's that at first it had been a physical ache to see them each and every day—met hers and his knuckles turned even whiter around the wood. "No!"
She heard the man behind her mutter something, and then a large, tanned hand closed over the bat just above hers. "Give me that damn thing before you hurt someone," the man snapped, and yanked it directly out of both her and Murphy's battling grips. Then he tossed it into the cab of his truck and slammed the door shut.
Murphy's voice went up half an octave as he unleashed a fresh round of curses that made her pale. "Dude! That's my bat. You can't just take my bat!"
"I just did, dude," the man returned flatly. He closed his hand over Murphy's thin shoulder and forcibly moved him away from Isabella. "Stay," he spit.
Isabella rounded on the man, gaping at him. He was wearing a faded brown ball cap and aviator sunglasses that hid his eyes. "Take your hand off him!" Whatever the cause of Murphy's latest altercation, this man had no right to put a hand on him. "Who do you think you are?"
"The man your boy took aim at with his blasted baseball." His jaw was sharp and shadowed by brown stubble and his lips were thinned.
"I did not!" Murphy shouted, right into Isabella's ear.
She winced, giving him a fierce look. "Go sit down." She pointed at the wooden bench on the sidewalk in front of the cafe. Her head was pounding and she had to control her own urge to add to the screaming.
Whatever had made her think she could be a parent to Murphy? He needed a man around, not just a woman he could barely tolerate.
He needed his father.
And now all they had was each other.
She pointed. "Go."
All gangling arms and legs and outraged male, Murphy jerked his shoulder out from the man's grip and stomped over to the bench, throwing himself down on it.
She pulled her gaze away from Murphy and looked up at the man. "I don't know what happened here—"
"Don't you have any sense at all, stepping in front of him when he's waving around a baseball bat?"
Isabella clamped down on her own temper. Whatever Murphy had done, it wouldn't help for her to lose her own cool. "Murphy would never hurt me," she said evenly, ignoring the snort the man gave in response.
She drew in a calming breath and turned her head into the breeze that she'd begun to suspect never died here in Weaver, Wyoming. She let it cool her face before she turned to face him again. "I'm Isabella Lockhart," she began.
"I know who you are."
She pressed her lips together for a moment. She'd only been in Weaver a few weeks, but it really was a small town if people she'd never met already knew who she was. Lucy had told her—warned her, really—about how different Weaver was from New York. That was why Isabella had hoped—still did—that the radical change might be the solution to her problems with Murphy. As long as she was able to hold on to him.
She focused on the man's face—what she could see of it beneath the hat and sunglasses, at any rate. "I'm sure we can resolve whatever's happened here," she continued in the same appeasing tone she'd once used to great effect with outraged prima ballerinas, "but could we do it somewhere other than the middle of Main Street, Mr., uh—"
"Erik Clay. Since there's no traffic to speak of, I don't know what you're worried about. But I am mighty curious how you think we're going to resolve that" He jerked his chin toward the bed of his truck.
He wasn't known for having much of a temper, but considering everything, Erik felt like retrieving that baseball bat and bashing something with it himself.
Focusing on the woman in front of him was a lot safer than focusing on the skinny, black-haired hellion sprawled on Ruby's bench.
She tucked her white-blond hair behind her ear with a visibly shaking hand. Bleached blond, he figured, considering her eyes were such a dark brown they were nearly black. It didn't seem natural that anyone with such light hair would have such dark eyes. He'd never much understood the bleached-hair deal. But even pissed as he was, he wasn't blind to the whole effect.
Weaver's newcomer was a serious looker.
"I'm sorry," she was saying. "Whatever happened, I'm sure I can make it right."
"Really?" He very nearly took her arm, but the way she'd squawked over him pushing the kid away from her kept him from doing so. Instead, he held out his hand in obvious invitation toward the truck bed. "Care to tell me how?"
Her brown-black gaze flicked over him. Her unease was as plain as the pert nose on her pretty face when she stepped over to the truck bed, which was nearly as tall as she was, and peered over the side. "Oh…sugar," she whispered.
The words he had for the damage were a lot less sweet than sugar. But sharing them held no appeal, considering the foul mouth her kid had already exhibited.
He reached down and plucked a baseball from amid the shards of colored glass that had once been a very large, very elaborate stained-glass window destined for the Weaver Community Church. "Your boy threw the ball deliberately."
"I did not!" Murphy screeched as he launched himself back into Erik's face. "And I ain't her—" he dropped an f-bomb as if it were a regular component of his vocabulary "—boy!"
Erik shot out a hand, halting the kid's progress even as he scooped the woman out of the kid's angry path.
"Murphy!" She wriggled out of Erik's grip and grabbed the boy's arm, physically dragging him back to the bench. "I told you to sit." She leaned over and said something under her breath that Erik couldn't make out, but that obviously had some effect, because the kid angrily sank against the bench and crossed his arms defensively over his chest.
The woman tugged at the pink skirt of her waitress uniform as she straightened. Erik quickly directed his gaze upward from her shapely rear when she turned and walked back to him.
She stepped up to the side of the truck and peered over the edge once more. "It looks valuable."
The window depicting the Weaver landscape had been a gift. An unexpected, completely unwanted gift. And it was probably wrong of him, but Erik calculated the value more in terms of personal discomfort than dollars, since the artist was a woman he was no longer seeing. And who'd likely tell him to pound sand when he approached her for a replacement, which he'd have to do, since he'd gone and donated the thing to the church, seeing how churches were more suited for that sort of thing than his plain old ranch house. Now they were expecting the thing. "It was."
Her slender shoulders rose and fell in a sigh that only served to make the curves filling out her uniform even more noticeable. Her gaze lifted to his. "If you could tell me how much the damage is, I'll figure out a way to pay you."
Erik looked away from those near-black eyes that were so full of earnestness he couldn't help but feel his anger lessening. And that just irritated him all over again. "Fou didn't throw the ball at my window. He did." He gestured toward the kid. "In my day, we pulled stunts like that, it earned us a trip to the sheriff's office."
She was fair-skinned to begin with, but he actually saw color drain right out of her face. Without seeming to realize it, she closed her hands over his arm, as if to prevent him from heading toward the sheriff's office right then and there. "Please. Not the police."
"Tell me why I shouldn't."
"He didn't mean to cause any harm."
Erik snorted, though it was a shame for such dark, pretty eyes to show so much panic. "Really? He wound...
Most helpful customer reviews
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
good story
By Rhonda
4 STARS
In Weaver Vow Isabella Lockhart has left everything she knows for the sake of her late fiance's little boy Murphy. Murphy was getting into so much trouble back in New York. So she got permission to take him and move to Wyoming. Murphy has so much anger in him after his dad died.
Isabella is working at a cafe and teaching dance lessons to make ends meet. Isabella was raised in foster care and does not want the same thing for Murphy. She used to do costumes for balet the same company as her new boss Lucy.
Isabella heard yelling outside while she was closing the cafe, when she recognized Murphy's voice she ran. She found Murphy with his bat beside a man who was angry. A broken stain glass window in the back of the truck from a baseball.
Erik wants to take him to sheriff to teach him a lesson. Erik is a single man with his own ranch.
He makes a deal with Isabella and Murphy. Murphy comes out on sat. to his ranch and he can work the rest of the school year and summer to pay for it. It would not even make a dent on the cost of the window that Erik was donating to the church in town.
Erik who was given the stainglass window by a girlfriend who was getting to serious they broke up. He was not ready for marriage he said. Now he could see himself with Isabella.
Isabella was not ready to date. Either was Murphy ready for her to date either. Isabella was still waiting to see if her having custody of Murphy will be granted. He needed to be stable and not get into trouble for awhile.
I like Erik's family and would love go back to earlier books and see more of thier stories sometime. They are so welcoming to Isabella and Murphy. Everyone calls her Erik's girl and she keeps telling them she is not. Most of Erik's female relatives are in Isabella yoga class. The dance studio she works in is owned by Erik's cousin Lucy. Isabella does not know for the longest time is the cafe she works in is actually owned by Erik and his brother.
It is nice to see that while Erik realizes right away that he wanted to date Isabella his treatment of Murphy is seperate from any relationship he wants with her. Erik is trying to be a good role modle and teach him the way a man should be raised.
I like the town of Weaver and would love to come back and read about the people again.
I was given this ebook to read and asked in exchange to give it a honest review by Netgalley
04/23/2013 Pub Harlequin Imprint Harlequin Special Edition 224 pages ISBN:0373657390
0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
A solid read!
By Harlequin Junkie Blog
I will preface my review by mentioning that I had never read any of Ms. Leigh's Weaver-centric stories. That being said, I am planning to find the books dealing with the Double-C ranch and the Clay family so I can start to make my way through those series' ASAP!
This book was just lovely. Isabella knows what's it's like to be set adrift in the system, so when her late fiancee's son needs a home, she takes him in without question. The eleven year old isn't coping well with his father's death, and causes some trouble in their hometown of NYC, so Iz tracks down her friend from the ballet company with which she worked and follows her to Weaver, Wyoming.
Erik experiences Murph's shenanigans first hand when the boy shatters a stained-glass window he was preparing to donate to the local church. Remembering all the times he'd been talked to by the local sheriff, he makes the decision to let Murphy work off the money he owes for the broken window. When Isabella runs out to see what the commotion is, Erik is instantly smitten. Now he likes his plan for *more* than one reason.
As the story continues, he introduces the painfully alone 'Izzy' to his amazingly close and alarmingly huge family - where she starts to feel embraced. He realizes that he wants to spend the rest of his life with this woman and her young ward, but they stumble over a few obstacles. Not the least of which is her tenuous standing with Murphy's caseworker.
Erik announces his intentions to her, then backs off, while continuing to mentor and help Murphy fit in to their new community. Isabella learns slowly that the town is not only starting to like her, but they're adopting her - just as she is trying to adopt Murphy - into their hearts.
The only fault I could find with this book was the pacing was a little off. It wasn't *quite* insta-love, but pretty close. Otherwise, the story and characters were charming, and it's well worth picking up.
I enjoyed getting to know the people of Weaver, WY, and I'm looking forward to hearing more about their stories. This book can be read as a stand-alone novel, even though it is tied into the 'Return to Double-C Ranch" series.
0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
The promise to raise the son of a diseased fiancee.
By Bill. Maybach
When the heroine leaves New York, it is to transplant a troubled boy away from a bad environment and friends into a rural small town community.
He immediately gets into trouble by throwing a baseball through a stained glass window of the local bachelor farmer. The farmer wants the boy
to take responsibility of his actions and reluctantly wants to gain the attention of the heroine. The heroine wins the hearts of the farmer's expanded
family and townsfolk through her small seamstress business and as a community dance instructor. The farmer wins the trust and friendship of the
boy. The only two people in doubt are the heroine and the farmer. A very good read!
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