Contents

      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 One

      Ignoring her teenage son’s glowering expression, Emily Major shut off the engine of her new pickup truck and slid out from behind the wheel. Heart pounding with excitement, she grabbed a bag of groceries and breathed deeply of the clean Colorado air. In front of Emily was a modest ranch house with a wide, inviting porch, the first home she’d ever had a say in choosing.

      “Are you going to sit there all day?” she finally demanded through the open window of the truck.

      David hadn’t wanted to come here from their home in L.A., but he hadn’t wanted his mother and father to get a divorce, either. Even though the breakup hadn’t been her choice, Emily suspected that David blamed her for it as well as for moving him to Waterloo.

      David didn’t honor her with a reply. His arms were folded across his chest and his head was turned away. His bleached hair was hidden by a baseball cap, and the sun glinted on the small gold hoop in his ear.

      Emily had no idea how to reach him anymore. The loving little boy who had believed she’d hung the moon had been replaced by a brooding stranger with a partially shaved head and a permanent curl to his lip. Sometimes the pain in his eyes, brown like her own, broke her heart.

      It was for David’s sake that she’d uprooted the two of them and her business. She would do anything to keep her son safe, but he hated everything she did. Sometimes she wondered whether he hated her, as well.

      With a sigh, Emily dug the new brass key from her purse and headed up the path to the house. She’d been here once before, after spotting the classified ad in a real estate magazine. She’d been desperate to get out of L.A., but David had of course refused to come with her to look at the property—just as he’d refused to believe she would consider moving to the American wasteland, as he called anything outside southern California.

      They had spent last night in town, sharing a motel room equipped with sagging beds, a bathroom faucet that dripped all night into a rust-stained sink and a black-and-white TV with two channels. Now their suitcases and David’s motorbike were in the back of the pickup. The truck with the rest of their belongings was supposed to meet them here this morning.

      When she’d driven through the center of the sleeping town late last night, David had made rude comments about the false-fronted buildings, the cowboy they’d seen walking down the wooden sidewalk and the community in general. Finally, Emily, exhausted by the long drive and the uncertainty gnawing a hole in her stomach, had lost her temper and snapped at David. He’d barely spoken since, but at least he’d stopped sneering long enough to wolf down a huge country breakfast this morning at the little café on the rustic main street. Beneath all the bravado and attitude, he was still a typical sixteen-year-old with a hollow void for a stomach.

      “What are you doing?” he called out as she lugged the bag of groceries up the front porch steps.

      Encouraged, Emily plastered a wide smile on her face and turned