Her name was Miranda Blake. Forty-one. A stunning woman with a smoky voice, soft laugh, and curves that made heads turn even when she wasn’t trying. She was the kind of woman who walked with the confidence of someone who knew…

It began with a garden walk. Maddie didn’t announce herself. She simply appeared beside Graham the next morning as he pruned the hydrangeas, his sleeves rolled up, sun dappling his forearms. There was a quiet strength to him—clean, earthy, grounded in a…

The summer sun was high over Timber Hollow, pouring golden light over dusty pickup trucks, porch swings, and the faint scent of cedarwood from the sawmill drifting down Main Street. Jack Johnson, all six-foot-five of him, stood outside the hardware…

The morning sun was golden and ruthless, spilling through the high windows of the master bath as steam curled around Maddie’s bare shoulders. She stood beneath the rainfall showerhead, eyes closed, letting the hot water kiss her skin, rinse away…

A light rain had started to fall as Evelyn pulled onto the winding gravel road leading to Jack Johnson’s cabin. The rhythmic hiss of the tires on wet stone mirrored the unease in her chest. She hadn’t planned on coming…