By Dorothy Love

She’s a gorgeous younger widow. He’s a Southern gentleman with a thirst for event. either desire a position to name home.

After wasting her husband within the Civil battle, Carrie Daly is scared she's going to by no means have the kinfolk she longs for. Eligible bachelors are scarce in Hickory Ridge, Tennessee, yet Carrie has discovered love. now not the weak-in-the-knees variety, yet anything useful. nonetheless, she isn't relatively able to set a marriage date with Nate Chastain.

Griff Rutledge is a former member of Charleston society, yet has been estranged from his family members for years. He’s made up our minds to stay unattached, by no means settling in a single position for too lengthy. but if requested to coach a Thoroughbred for an upcoming race in Hickory Ridge, he makes a decision to stick awhile.

Despite objections from the townsfolk, and her worry that actual happiness has eluded her, Carrie is interested in Griff's kindness and style. it is going to take a bounce of religion for them to open their hearts and declare God's promise to provide good looks for ashes.

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Extra info for Beauty for Ashes (A Hickory Ridge Romance, Book 2)

Sample text

He eases himself onto the edge and slides carefully to the gravel. I give my shins one last desperate scratch, tie my shoes, and follow. We are adjacent to a huge grassy lot. Beyond it are scattered brick buildings, backlit by the predawn glow. Hundreds of dirty, unshaven men pour from the train and surround it, like ants on candy, cursing and stretching and lighting cigarettes. Ramps and chutes clatter to the ground, and six- and eight-horse hitches materialize from nowhere, spread out on the dirt.

And finally, to my husband, Bob舒my love and greatest champion. ŠŠŠI meant what I said, and I said what I meant . . An elephant舗s faithful舒one hundred per cent! ŠŠŠŠŠŠŠŠŠŠŠŠŠ舒THEODOR SEUSS GEISEL, Horton Hatches the Egg, 1940 WATER FOR ELEPHANTS COLLECTION OF THE RINGLING CIRCUS MUSEUM, SARASOTA, FLORIDA Prologue Only three people were left under the red and white awning of the grease joint: Grady, me, and the fry cook. Grady and I sat at a battered wooden table, each facing a burger on a dented tin plate.

Everyone is eager to help. Catherine hands me her notes and then hugs me in a way that suggests I might get different results if I were to attempt the usual quest. I pull away. For the first time in living memory, I have no interest in sex. I can舗t eat. I can舗t sleep. And I certainly can舗t study. I stare at a single paragraph for a quarter of an hour but can舗t absorb it. How can I, when behind the words, on the white background of the paper, I舗m watching an endless loop of my parents舗 deaths? Watching as their cream-colored Buick flies through the guardrail and over the side of the bridge to avoid old Mr.

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