Finding His Lone Star Love (Harlequin Special Edition) Read online

  You have a daughter...

  Those words from a long-ago fling changed restaurateur Sam Haynes’s life forever. But when he finds his child in Peach Leaf, Texas, Sam gets more than he bargained for. Headstrong Shiloh and her beautiful aunt, Lucy Monroe, are a package deal—one that Sam is more than happy to accept.

  Observatory manager Lucy doesn’t believe in out-of-this-world romances. The only star in her life is her handicapped niece, Shiloh. So, when mysterious Sam shows up in Peach Leaf, Texas, Lucy is on guard. The last thing she needs is a man in her life. But her heart melts as Sam bonds with Shiloh, making her wonder if the stars might align for her very own happily-ever-after...

  It shouldn’t matter to me.

  He sawed through the wood with the handsaw he preferred to an electric version. Thinking about her like that was selfish and thickheaded. The only thing that should matter was whether or not she could be convinced to let him spend time with his daughter.

  He’d thought it would be easier somehow—that perhaps if Shiloh was being cared for by someone with a family of her own, that the help of a parent might be, if not wholly welcome, then possibly some relief, financial or otherwise. He hadn’t considered that she’d be living with an incredibly dedicated and, admittedly, alluring young woman whose presence had an intense, unwelcome effect on him.

  Sam put the saw down to measure another piece of wood, working as fast as he could while maintaining precision. Soon enough he’d be done cutting the lumber, and he could begin to pound nails into boards. Maybe the sweat and hard work in the Texas spring sun would remind him of the potential storm ahead, brought on by his own actions, and he’d forget the way his heart raced at the mere sight of Lucy Monroe.

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome back to Peach Leaf, Texas!

  One of the first things I learned when I started putting words on paper is that writing is never easy. Fun? Sometimes. Rewarding? Often. Challenging? Always.

  As a new writer, learning to trust myself—to trust that when the process feels right, the story will be right—is a mountain I’m only just beginning to climb, one tiny, tentative step at a time. So I was beyond surprised when Sam and Lucy’s story seemed to flow out of me like water from a spring. Creating their tale of redemption and romance, against the backdrop of an observatory in the wilds of west Texas, was nothing but a joy.

  I hope you’ll share in that joy as you read this book. And I hope that you’ll remember, as Sam and Lucy learn, that it’s never too late to start fresh. It’s never too late to build the life you’ve always wanted, and finding true love is always possible.

  As always, I would love to hear from you, and I’m so thankful that you chose my book.

  Best,

  FINDING HIS LONE STAR LOVE

  Amy Woods

  Amy Woods took the scenic route to becoming an author. She’s been a bookkeeper, a high school English teacher, and a claims specialist, but now that she makes up stories for a living, she’s never giving it up. She grew up in Austin, Texas, and lives there with her wonderfully goofy, supportive husband and a spoiled rescue dog. Amy can be reached on Facebook, Twitter and her website, www.amywoodsbooks.com.

  Books by Amy Woods

  Harlequin Special Edition

  His Texas Forever Family

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  For Grandma and Grandpa Bruce,

  who would have been proud.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  There was no less-qualified cook in the town of Peach Leaf, Texas—okay, possibly the whole world—than Lucy Monroe, and she would be the first to admit it.

  So then, to Lucy, given the way things had been going lately, it wasn’t really all that surprising that she was responsible for preparing lunch for the hungry kids on a field trip, who now crowded the Lonestar Observatory’s small café. Thirty or so second graders, and their already-worn-out teachers and parent-chaperones, who must be standing staring at the still-swinging kitchen door, thinly veiled impatience clouding their features as they wondered what on earth was keeping their solo waitress. Not that Lucy was much of a server, either, for that matter. Lord help her, Lucy needed a break.

  Or a miracle.

  She was short on both.

  Full order pad in hand, she grabbed an apron, tying it quickly over her lemon-colored pencil skirt and white button-down shirt. Lucy rushed to the prep table to start slicing cheese and bread for sandwiches, and to check on the caramel apple pies she’d had the foresight to put in the oven earlier between her regular duties. The pie recipe was her grandma’s—an old favorite—and the only thing she really knew how to get right in the kitchen.

  Unlike Nana, Lucy was as out of her element in a kitchen as a hog in a chicken coop, which was exactly why she’d hired the best chef she could find to handle the observatory’s little café. A very skilled, highly trained, seemingly intelligent chef, who, at that very moment, was on a plane to Las Vegas with the fiancée he’d met only a week ago.

  Damn that Axel.

  Lucy pulled out a knife and began slicing a loaf from the day before, pushing the utensil through the soft bread perhaps a little harder than was necessary.

  Surely he could have given more than a day’s notice before he skipped town. But then, Axel had probably made his rash decision with something other than his brain. He’d called and woken Lucy late the evening before to give his resignation. She’d bitten her tongue to prevent her true thoughts from escaping her mouth when Axel had said he would be sorry to cut out on her on such short notice, except for the fact he’d found the love of his life and therefore was the happiest man on the planet and didn’t have a sorry bone in his body.

  Lucy had more than enough sorry bones for the both of them. He’d left her high and dry for a red-eye to Vegas, and she hadn’t had a single second to hire someone to take his place. Her regular tasks as the observatory’s manager would have to wait. Finding a suitable new chef was first on her agenda—that is, after she’d appeased the ravenous throng waiting on the other side of the kitchen wall.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when the door swung open and her coworker and best friend, Tessa McAdams, burst in, quickly closing the door behind her as she stared wide-eyed at Lucy.

  “There’s an angry mob out there, Lu,” Tessa said, turning back to the door and standing on tiptoes to stare out the small round window. She ducked back down, fast. “They’re closing in. I think they might come in after us if you don’t get some grub in their bellies soon.”

  “Damn that Axel,” Lucy said, out loud this time. She lowered the bread knife into the loaf once more and continued to saw, but when she looked up again a strange expression crossed Tessa’s face, causing Lucy to pause midslice. Tessa crossed her arms and her lips formed a straight line, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief, nose wrinkling up like a rabbit in the same way she’d had since they were kids, whenever Tessa was on the verge of revealing a secret or in the process of calculating a naughty plan.

  “Whatever it is, out with it. Now,” Lucy demanded, sparing only a second to toss a serious look at her friend before getting back to work.

  “Tell me straight, Lu. I know it’s been a while since you had a decent date, but starting fires just to get a hot firefighter o
ut here is no way to go about catching a man.”

  For a second, Lucy had no clue what Tessa was talking about, but then the unmistakable scent of scorched flour and butter hit her nostrils with full force.

  “Oh my gosh, Tess!” Lucy said, tossing aside the bread and knife and making her way to the stacked ovens on the other side of the kitchen, as if her life depended on it. The way things were going, it might indeed. “My pies!”

  For a second she froze, unable to do more than stand still, shocked, afraid to open the oven and face the inevitable pastry carnage. Thankfully, adrenaline took over.

  Her previous impishness wiped away, Tessa rushed over to join her friend. Lucy tossed a set of oven mitts at her. “Here, put these on,” Lucy said, cloaking her own hands in another pair. “You pull out the rack and I’ll grab the pies. We might be able to rescue the ones on the top shelf if we’re quick.”

  Tessa took the mitts and followed Lucy’s instructions, but Lucy saw doubt crease her forehead as she pulled out pie after pie, the crust of each more burned than the one before. “Lu,” Tessa said, shaking her head in defeat, “I know less about cooking than you—and that’s saying something—and I hate to mention it, but...I really don’t think these are salvageable.”

  The last pie retrieved from the oven of doom, Lucy pulled her hands out of the mitts and grabbed the bread knife. She began cutting off the charred pieces of crust and singed chunks of her special oatmeal-pecan topping, ignoring Tessa’s words. She had to save the pies. Otherwise, there would only be plain sandwiches to serve her guests, and there was no way she could let all those kids and their parents and teachers return to their schools in Austin, thinking that the Lonestar Café had such poor service. The place was in enough financial trouble already.

  The Lonestar Observatory had much higher standards in serving guests. In particular, its café was known for delicious, home-cooked Southern comfort food, just the way it had been when Lucy’s dad was in charge of everything. He had ensured that everything in the facility was top-notch, from providing the latest stargazing equipment available, to seeing that the café served only the best cuisine. Her dad had received his PhD in astronomy with high recommendations and, instead of becoming a professor as all of his instructors expected, he, along with her mom, had accepted the local university’s offer to head the small observatory, just a few months before Lucy was born.

  Her dad had died the day after her twenty-fifth birthday. Lucy convinced the university to let her take over managing the observatory, on the condition that she hired a properly credentialed expert in the field to stand in as official director. Despite not finishing formal training in astronomy, Lucy knew the observatory better than any of the scientists interviewed for her father’s job before the university admitted she was best for the position. She’d learned everything she needed to know from her dad, first toddling along as he checked the telescopes each day, all the way through high school and her first semesters of college, when she’d begun her own research projects to advance the field. And the director, sweet Dr. Blake, who looked and behaved more like Santa Claus than a scientist—which described the rest of the observatory’s employees—respected Lucy enough to let her have her way in running the place. It wasn’t the same as being a true scientist, but it would have to do. She’d wanted to be an astronomer since she was a little girl, learning constellations and galaxies at her father’s side, and if she had a spare second, she might admit that she regretted not being able to finish school.

  But Lucy didn’t have time for regrets.

  Everything aside, more than her job and her life and the means by which she was able to take care of her niece, Shiloh, the Lonestar was Lucy’s home. It was where she’d been raised and where she’d learned to look up when things in her own world weren’t going well. It was the only place on the planet where she felt whole and centered; she would do anything to keep it running like a well-oiled machine, even when funding was low or when struggles with Shiloh tested her patience. Or when love-struck chefs quit at the last minute.

  So this was about more than burned pies.

  It was about letting down her dad—the only man she’d ever been able to trust.

  Tessa had come to her side and was attempting to pry the knife out of Lucy’s hands. Finally, warm tears pooling behind her eyes, Lucy let her friend take the utensil as she sank to the floor, settling her face in her hands. “Dad would be so disappointed if he saw what a disaster this is,” Lucy said as she fought against the tears that threatened to escape. “He would never have let this kind of thing happen to this place.” She raised her head and peered at Tessa through her bangs, which stuck out all over and clung to her glasses, frizzy and wild from the chaos of the past half hour.

  “Shhh,” Tessa soothed, setting down the knife and crouching beside her friend. She brushed aside Lucy’s frazzled hair. “You know that’s not true, hon. You’re just having a rough time lately, and you’re stressed. Your daddy loved you more than he loved the stars. And that’s saying something.” Tessa lifted Lucy’s chin with her finger and stared into Lucy’s eyes, a mischievous smirk behind her own. “But one thing I do know—he would not have let you set foot in this kitchen without supervision, not even to make a few pies. That’s for damn sure.” Tessa smiled and Lucy felt her chest relax, ever so slightly. She reached up and wiped at her eyes, then made a fist and softly brushed Tessa’s chin in a mock punch. Tessa laughed and the melodious sound of it was almost enough to coax a smile out of Lucy.

  Almost—but not quite.

  She’d made such a mess of things today. And, even though her best friend had a way of making her feel better, the world still awaited her, and something had to be done about the hungry crowd waiting outside the door. And there were afternoon tours scheduled back-to-back, quarterly tax forms to review and Shiloh to meet at the bus stop. Lucy closed her eyes and sighed, concentrating all her effort on taking one deep breath after the other. This wasn’t the first time she’d had more responsibility than any one person could possibly handle, and it was highly unlikely that it would be the last. She would just have to buck up, make the sandwiches and tackle the rest later, then find some way to deal with the fact that, for today, her beloved place— her home—had poorer pickings than a fast-food joint.

  * * *

  Sam Haynes had bitten off more than he could chew. He’d assumed the drive to Peach Leaf would be a piece of cake after making the trip to Austin from Houston when his plane had landed that morning, but clearly he’d underestimated the distance. The Texas road stretched on forever and looked much the same the whole way, save for a few tiny towns along the route, and not a Starbucks in sight. Hills with clusters of trees here and there, but mostly dust, dust—and more dust. And real tumbleweeds, which Sam had only seen in his grandfather’s beloved old black-and-white Westerns. It was true what they said— everything was bigger here—including, unfortunately, the highways.

  Luckily, he’d seen the sign for Peach Leaf about a mile-and-a-half back, shining like an oasis in the desert, and there couldn’t be that much farther left to go—he hoped. A native New Yorker, Sam wasn’t used to driving this much, and he’d got to the point where he’d do just about anything this side of the law to get a decent meal and a bed for the night. And he’d die for a strong cup of coffee.

  His journey had been long in more ways than one.

  He’d received a phone call about his daughter’s whereabouts from the PI he’d hired a few weeks prior, just when he’d been about ready to jump out of his skin from the wait. The guy seemed sure this time—he’d really found her. Sam had thought such a feat near impossible, given how little he had to go on, but the investigator had come with high recommendations from a friend mindful enough not to ask pressing questions, and sure enough, the guy had accomplished the task. After taking a few days off to process the news and make some plans, Sam had notified the chefs at the three restaurants he owned that he would be available only by email until further notice, and h
e’d booked a plane out of New York City, with a room waiting for him at The Frederickson Bed-and-Breakfast in Peach Leaf.

  Now here he was, in the middle of nowhere in West Texas, looking for a girl he’d never even met. A girl who, until fairly recently, he hadn’t even known existed.

  A few of his closest friends had pronounced Sam’s plan crazy for picking up and leaving without any real explanation, but he knew enough to know that sometimes, the crazy thing was the right thing.

  His heart swelled at the thought of seeing her for the first time. Would she look like him? Would she have Sam’s brown eyes and hair? Or would she have Jennifer’s green eyes and wavy, reddish hair, with freckles dotting a button nose? Would she have his love of books and music, or would she be more like her mysterious mother, whom Sam had barely known?

  It was only meant to be a one-night stand—no strings attached. Jennifer had been hesitant to even offer up her first name, though Sam insisted. He’d been young, a frat boy in college, and she was just another coed notch on his bedpost before he’d wised-up and straightened out his life. When he’d got the call from Jennifer a month ago, saying she was sorry, but she just had to tell him something she’d been keeping to herself for years, he’d been expecting anything but the news she gave him. Before she’d spoken the words that forever changed his life in an instant, he had thought that maybe she needed help, or maybe she just wanted to get together for a drink after all those years—hell, maybe she needed money. Anything was possible. But instead, the strawberry-haired girl from a reckless one-night stand whose last name he’d never known gave him the most life-altering news a man could hear.

  They had a daughter.

  He had a daughter.

  As Jennifer explained everything to him, Sam had been so confused and angry he could barely breathe. It turned out she had given their baby to her younger sister long ago when she’d been broke, unemployed, “lost”—whatever that meant, Sam didn’t want to know—and couldn’t handle having a kid. A recent hospitalization for mental illness, it seemed, had prompted Jennifer to think long and hard about some of her choices. She had decided that, even if their daughter didn’t have a mom, she should have a chance to know her father. The girl’s name was Shiloh, and Jennifer’s sister had adopted her when she was an infant. Jennifer said she’d been back to visit only once, but never again. Even when pressed, she wouldn’t say why. She would only reveal that it had been a mistake to go back that one time, and she would never do it again. She’d also said that she wasn’t sure if her sister and child even lived in the same place anymore—she had called a few times but the old number was dead, and she hadn’t tried any harder than that, preferring to leave them alone.