Contents

      Acknowledgments

      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

      ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

      The author gratefully acknowledges the

       contributions of four outstanding storytellers:

       Diane Mott Davidson, Constance Laux,

       Emilie Richards and Karen Young.

      For Maggie Osborne, who first decided

       Ron Raven should be a bigamist,

       and for Marsha Zinberg, editor extraordinaire,

       who always loved this story.

      Prologue

      June 8, 2004, Fairfax, Georgia

      Adam Fairfax stepped out from behind his desk and greeted his brother-in-law with a smile, a warm handshake and a friendly thump on the shoulder. “Ron, it’s good to see you. How was your flight?”

      “No major problems for once, but I travel too much and the flying’s getting real old, if you want to know the truth.” Ron Raven clapped the younger man on the back and pumped his hand. “You’re looking fitter than ever, Adam, damn you. Still running those marathon races of yours?”

      “Half marathons these days. It’s all I have time to train for. But I guess I can’t complain. My work schedule’s a stroll in the park compared to yours. Every time I speak to Avery or Paul they tell me you’re on a plane or just getting off one.”

      Ron sighed. “Seems that way to me, too, and flying’s no fun these days, that’s for sure. Shuffling through those security lines in your socks is about as enjoyable as watching mold grow on the shower wall.”

      Adam reached into his top desk drawer and pulled out the loan agreement that had been ready for his brother-in-law’s signature for the past week. “It must be stressful, too, even when you’ve learned all the insider tips for making the process a bit easier.”

      “You’re right, it’s very stressful. My blood pressure’s through the roof.” Ron looked momentarily gloomy, then chuckled. “But that sister of yours is something else. A tyrant who looks like an angel. Avery’s determined to keep me healthy even if we both die in the attempt. She tells me I’ve gotta eat lots of fish and green leafy vegetables and then I’ll live to be a hundred. I told her that if all I can eat is fish and vegetables, why the hell would I want to live that long?”

      Adam laughed in sympathy. “But Avery doesn’t listen, of course.”

      “Of course not. Just keeps serving the damn spinach. And salmon. That’s her other biggie. I’m surprised you didn’t tell me my skin’s turned orange from all the salmon she makes me eat.”

      “That’s my sister for you.” Adam gestured for Ron to sit down. “Beneath the Southern charm, she’s just like our mother—as stubborn as a mule.”

      “Well, that’s not unique to Avery, or even your mother! I swear stubborn is built into the female DNA.” Ron chuckled. “Still, I wouldn’t be without ’em, not for all the tea in China. You should try getting married, Adam. Workaholics like us need women to keep us in line.”

      “The hell we do.” Adam smiled. “Listening to you always reminds me of all the reasons I’m happy to be a bachelor.”

      “You just haven’t met the right woman,” Ron said. “Trust me, you’re gonna fall hard one of these days and then you’ll wonder how you held out so long.”

      Adam pulled a wry face. “Has my sister deputized you as her front man? You’re parroting her lines.”

      “Well, shoot, Adam, you caught me out. But what do you expect? I’m just a western cowboy. I’m no match for a steel magnolia like your sister. When she gives me orders, I salute and say, Yes, ma’am,” Ron replied. “I’m a brave man, but I’m not stupid.”

      Adam sighed. “I’ve learned there are few things in this life harder to resist than the genteel nagging of a Southern lady. I should just give up and marry the next woman Avery parades in front of me.”

      “Don’t.” Ron was suddenly serious. “Ignore the nagging, genteel or otherwise.” He stabbed his forefinger into the desk for emphasis. “Despite what I said earlier, don’t marry to satisfy anyone except yourself. I’ve seen what happens when a man marries to please his family and it isn’t pretty.”

      “At the moment, I’m in no danger of marrying, period. Running the bank hasn’t left much time for socializing this past year. And speaking of socializing, I hope you have time to stay for lunch today.”

      “I was planning on it. Thanks.”

      “We’ll go to the Oak Room.” Adam gave a conspiratorial glance. “Their beef is the best in town—and I promise not to report back to Avery if you order French fries.”

      “You’re a mighty fine brother-in-law, Adam. Knew I could count on you for more than money.” Ron grinned as he drew out a stack of papers from his briefcase, and Adam grinned back, appreciating his brother-in-law’s camaraderie. Both men were perfectly well aware that Ronald Howatch Raven, founder and senior partner of Raven Enterprises, Inc., could raise money wherever the hell he wanted and that Adam, in fact, was very much the junior partner in this deal, even though he was the man handing over the money.

      As the president of the First Bank of Fairfax, a once-rural farm community now located on the far southern rim of Atlanta’s commuter belt, Adam was more accustomed to loaning a few thousand bucks to open a beauty salon or family restaurant than three million dollars to help transform a vast Wyoming cattle ranch into an upscale vacation resort. He was well aware that he would never have been given the opportunity to participate in Ron’s latest real estate venture if not for the fact that his older sister happened to be Ron’s wife.

      Adam was honest enough to admit that there were certain ironies involved in authorizing this loan to his brother-in-law. He’d taken over the presidency of the bank from his great-uncle fifteen months ago, a few days after his thirty-first birthday. He recognized that he’d been given the job chiefly because of his name and heritage and was considered a foolish whippersnapper by a significant minority of the board. He’d spent a lot of the past year persuading managers and shareholders that the First Bank of Fairfax was only going to survive if they stopped making loans to friends and relatives and started making loans to entrepreneurs with a decent business plan. Adam hadn’t counted on the fact that the most exciting business plan to cross his desk would come from his brother-in-law.

      “Here are the