A Sunday Snippet 1


While I’m working on editing Jake’s story, here’s a snippet from Slow Ride Home–and the problems Ben and Allie face as they reunite…

copyright© 2013 Leah Braemel

She jammed her elbows on the fence, staring at the mare who’d resumed grazing, rather than facing Ben. He was a Grady. This was Bull’s Hollow. The land, the cattle, they came first to him, over everything else.

Slow Ride Home kept me enthralled. I became completely invested in Ben and Allie’s story and am looking forward to No Accounting for Cowboys, book two in The Grady Legacy series
~ Lea Franczak, USA Today 

His hands squeezed her shoulders lightly, then slid down her side and wrapped around her waist, pulling her against his chest. “If you’d never met me,” he whispered, “if you’d met me for the very first time because of this case, would I stand a chance?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Definitely. She turned her head to meet his gaze. “Why are you so intent on chasing

me?”

His brows arched in surprise. “I’m not chasing you particularly hard, Al. If I was, you’d know it.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’re not the only one who can get hurt here. All I’m asking is for you to give me a chance. Pretend that we’ve just met. Go out on a date with me. I want to know who you are now. What makes you tick. You say you’ve changed—I want to know how.”

She shook her head and pulled away, turning to clutch the fence rail in an effort to ground herself. “It won’t work. I can’t forget what’s happened between us.”

“What’s happened between us? Not between Gramps and you, just you and me.”

She closed her eyes, unable to stand the husky plea. The fence rail moved—he’d braced his hands on either

side of hers.

“Give me another chance. I didn’t run out on you or force you away before.” His breath brushed her neck as he leaned in. “I’m sorry that Gramps hurt you, but he isn’t me. I’d never hurt you.”

“I know.” Did she? Or was she just so lonely that her body was convincing her to give in? “It doesn’t make

what I’m feeling any less valid.”

He stepped back, and she found herself mourning the loss of his warmth. “You never used to be a coward.”

Damn it. She whirled to face him, her fingernails digging into her palms. “I’m not a coward. I’m a realist.” A realist who was tired of being hurt. Of being a pawn.

“Okay, then let’s say you never used to dwell on the past the way you do now.” He held out his hand, palm up, waiting for her to take it. “Let go of the past, Allie. Let’s see if we have a future together.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Why can’t it be?”

His soft question speared through chest and lodged in her heart. After all she’d been through, how could he ask such a question? She met his gaze, seeing no guile hidden in those beautiful blue eyes. Wondering where she’d have been, where they’d be, if he proposed to her all those years ago, she whispered, “Because life isn’t simple.”

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