Chapter One

      Snowflakes, plump as a cherub’s cheeks, spewed and spat in the wind-soaked air, where they whirled in a mad, frenetic dance before they dropped to the ground and coated the world—this part of the world, anyway—in a thick, icy canopy of pure white.

      Why wouldn’t Steamboat Springs, Colorado, be in the middle of a roaring winter storm on the night of the runaway bride’s return? Nothing else would’ve made any sense.

      Gritting her teeth in concentration, Daisy attempted to see through the blinding snow as she navigated the last several miles to her brother’s house. Truth be told, she should’ve stayed overnight in Grand Junction when she heard the weather report. She hadn’t for the simple reason that she’d wanted to complete the last leg of her journey without delay.

      She’d left her home in Los Angeles at the crack of dawn, and barring the intermittent stops to walk her dog, had made excellent time. Another four hours of driving—even with a winter storm warning in place—had seemed preferable to putting off the inevitable for another day. So, with the hope that she’d beat the worst of the storm, she’d pushed onward.

      Well, four hours had turned into six-plus hours, and if what brewed outside her car wasn’t the worst of the storm, then Daisy figured it was soon to come. Her only goal at this point was to be safely ensconced inside Parker’s home when that moment arrived.

      Sighing, she slid to a halt at a stop sign and tried to set aside the ridiculous notion that this storm was Mother Nature’s way of warning her off, of reminding Daisy that she wouldn’t be welcomed in her hometown after close to an eight-year absence.

      And really, the thought was absurd.

      It was the end of February, for crying out loud, so snowstorms in Colorado were far from unheard of. They were, in fact, more the norm than not. This bit of logic, however, didn’t stop the anxiety from roiling in her stomach. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, she made a careful right-hand turn, just as the GPS instructed. How many folks would even remember her name, let alone her hotfooted retreat from the wedding altar and the man she was supposed to marry?

      Couldn’t be too many, she assured herself. Out of those who happened to remember both Daisy and the details of that long-ago May morning? The majority of that group would likely be a great deal more curious about her reappearance than they would be unwelcoming.

      Unfortunately, she knew what rested at the center of her unease, and it wasn’t the weather or the general population of Steamboat Springs. Nope, the reason for her pumped-up nerves and racing heart could be found in one man and one man only: Reid Foster.

      The man she’d left behind.

      Just the thought of seeing Reid again brought forth a slew of shivers and complicated, complex emotions. They hadn’t spoken even once since the day she’d ended their relationship and had discarded their future in favor of a quickly packed suitcase and a bus out of town.

      She’d wanted to. Had damn well yearned to speak with him, to fully explain why she’d behaved so cowardly and left him with a letter, instead of an honest conversation. Months had passed before she gathered enough courage to call.

      When she finally did, Parker had answered Reid’s phone. Unexpected, as Parker had lived in Boston then, but also—due to her brother’s friendship with Reid—not terribly surprising. And he’d stated that she’d caused enough damage. That the best thing she could do for everyone was to leave well enough alone and forget about Reid.

      If her brother had been unkind, she might not have listened. But in truth, he’d sounded sad and serious, rather than rude and blaming. She heard his deep concern, and in a flood of self-awareness, Daisy had understood—completely—the pain she’d caused.

      So, because Parker’s stance made sense and the last thing she wanted was to create any additional pain, she chose to live with her guilt and heed his advice. Good advice, as it turned out, since Reid hadn’t attempted to contact her in all of these years, either.

      But now, by the sole virtue of being back in Steamboat Springs, they’d bump into each other eventually. If not in some strange, random occurrence—such as at the grocery store—then either at the hospital, where Parker was recovering from a serious skiing accident, or at the house, where Daisy would be caring for her two young nieces, Erin and Megan, in the interim.

      Regardless of the specifics, Daisy felt sure she’d find Reid in her line of vision sooner rather than later. Fate would demand nothing less. And she couldn’t imagine what that scene would look like, sound like, feel like. And that meant she couldn’t prepare.

      Strange, really, how in some ways, the past eight years seemed as if an entire lifetime had elapsed, but in other ways, those exact same years were no more than a few seconds of a ticking clock. Or, perhaps more accurate in this scenario, a ticking bomb.

      Over those years, she’d created a life. Had made friends and figured out how to work for herself, and now made a decent living. She’d even found her biological father, had spent a little time getting to know him, only to realize that he did not hold any answers for her. Only she could provide those. And, for the most part, she had.

      She understood who she was. How she needed to live in order to survive, to remain true to herself, and seeing Reid again could potentially undo all of that.

      So, yes, a ticking bomb was a fair and accurate comparison.

      A strong gust of wind yanked the car to the side, catapulting Daisy to renewed awareness of her surroundings. Muttering a curse, she eased off the gas pedal and breathed in relief when the car returned to the road. None of what might or might not happen in the coming days mattered right now. All that did was getting off the road and to her brother’s house.

      Parker hadn’t phoned her until almost a full week after his accident. Again, not unexpected. Her relationship with her entire family had remained distant and uncomfortable. If anything, she was surprised to be notified at all. By anyone.

      But he’d been half-loopy from pain medications, and it had taken a while for Daisy to understand how serious his injuries were. Learning how close he had come to dying scared her, had made her realize how much time they had wasted. She’d already decided to return to her hometown when Parker asked if she would look after his daughters while he recovered.

      Her sister-in-law—Parker’s wife, Bridget—had died three years earlier from cancer, and Daisy and Parker’s parents now lived in Florida. She had no doubt that if Charles Lennox weren’t recovering from hip-replacement surgery, it would be her parents caring for the girls. So she supposed she was the obvious choice, but she’d still been surprised by Parker’s request.

      Naturally, she’d said yes.

      But she hadn’t considered that she barely knew her nieces, having only met them twice before. Once when Parker had brought his family to California, and then, at his wife’s funeral in Boston, where the couple had met and made their home. Just short of a year after becoming a widower, Parker had returned to Steamboat Springs to raise his daughters.

      And, other than the customary phone calls on birthdays and holidays, Daisy and Parker rarely spoke. So, no. She didn’t know her nieces. She didn’t know their likes or dislikes, what made them happy or sad, or any of the other myriad details that made up their lives.

      A new rush of fear hit Daisy. How was she supposed to provide the security her nieces were sure to need when she’d spent so little time with them?

      One way or another, she’d have to figure it out.

      She also hadn’t thought about what it would be like to breathe in the same air as Reid Foster, to look into his sinfully dark eyes or to listen to the slow, deep, evocative cadence of his voice again after so freaking long. Any of those occurences might prove