To my mother, LaVar Moffitt,

       the inspiration for Jaclyn’s strength and spirit. And to Ted Novak, my own self-made man. Cole has nothing on him.

      CONTENTS

      PROLOGUE

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      CHAPTER FIFTEEN

      CHAPTER SIXTEEN

      CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

      CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

      CHAPTER NINETEEN

      CHAPTER TWENTY

      CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

      CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

      CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

      EPILOGUE

      PROLOGUE

      THIS WAS IT, the absolute last straw. Jackie Wentworth couldn’t take any more.

      Numb, she sat in her new Suburban, the engine idling, as she stared in sickened wonder at her husband’s 1997 Dodge Ram with its identifying Rodeo bumper stickers. She’d spent hours looking for him, worried when she’d returned home from her friend’s place in Utah a day early to find their bed, their entire section of his parents’ home, empty. Even though it was the middle of the night, she’d driven past his friends’ houses, his two sisters’ houses, and gone all the way out to Sand Mountain, his favorite weekend haunt.

      But she’d been fooling herself, of course. His dune buggy, or “sand rail,” as they were now called, was still in the garage. She just couldn’t bring herself to believe the worst, at least not at first, not after all the counseling sessions and promises and hard-won confessions they’d been through—and finally, finally the forgiveness she’d managed to wring from her own heart.

      What a waste. Jackie closed her eyes, hoping she’d see something different when she opened them again. But the scene was just the same. Her husband’s truck sat in the dimly lit parking lot of Maxine’s, one of the legalized houses of prostitution that stood neighborless in the barren desert just outside Feld, Nevada.

      Behind her, Mackenzie and Alex were wearing their pajamas and fighting over the pretzels Jackie had bought to keep them occupied. Alyssa, the baby of the family at two years old, wailed miserably in her car seat. It was nearly three in the morning. Jackie couldn’t blame them for feeling put out. But she heard the noise they made as though it came from somewhere far away. Her ears were ringing too loudly, her heart thumping too hard, to hear anything clearly.

      Opening her door, just in case she was going to be sick, Jackie put her head between her legs and took long, deep breaths. It’s okay. You’re okay, she told herself.

      But she wasn’t okay. She didn’t know if she’d ever be okay again. She only knew she’d leave Terry. She’d take the children with her if she had to crawl on her hands and knees and carry the three of them on her back. And this time she wouldn’t let anything undermine her determination.

      “Mommy? What’s wrong with you? You look like you’re gonna throw up.”

      “Mom, Alex is touching me.”

      “Shut up. You’re such a pain.”

      “You shut up. You’re the one who started it.”

      Jackie couldn’t answer. She straightened, thinking of the movie classic Gone with the Wind. She pictured Scarlett O’Hara crying and angry and shaking her fist at the sky, swearing she’d never go hungry again, and finally understood the depth of that kind of resolve. Because she felt the same way.

      “As God is my witness, I will never let myself become so dependent on another human being again,” she muttered.

      “Mommy? Why are you talking to yourself? What’s wrong with you?”

      “Just leave her alone. Can’t you see she’s sick?”

      Alyssa cried louder. “Out, out, out!” she chanted.

      “Yes, sweetheart,” Jackie said, turning, dry-eyed, to face the three of them. “We’re getting out. Soon.” Out of Feld. Out of Nevada. Out of her loveless marriage.

      Her words did nothing to placate the baby. Alyssa had no concept of soon, except that it wasn’t now, but Jackie felt infinitely better. Terry