Blue Ridge Hideaway

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Cynthia Thomason. Blue Ridge Hideaway

Dorie’s brother needed that money, so she’d have to convince this ex-cop.…

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Bret rubbed his hand over his neck and said, “You have to admit that I’m not responsible for my father’s mistakes.”

“What about the Donovan family honor? Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

.....

BRET HAD A bad feeling about this. In the forty-eight hours since his father had arrived without notice, nothing suspicious or sinister or even questionable had happened. Bret had allowed himself to ease into a sort of complacent acceptance of Clancy’s appearance even though gut instinct told him to keep his guard up—what he usually did when his dad was in his life. And now this—a woman about as mad as a hen in a hatbox threatening the peace and tranquility he’d come to the mountains to find. Past experience had taught him that this woman’s desperate situation, whatever the details, was probably Clancy’s fault.

He did a quick appraisal of Dorinda Howe. She had guts even if she didn’t have the stature to back them up. At a little over five feet tall, with slim legs encased in a pair of straight jeans and most of the rest of her concealed under a hood and a light parka, she didn’t look capable of tangling with a dragonfly. But looks could be deceiving. And she did come packing mace.

.....