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eBook Category: Romance
eBook Description: Claire Stanhope returns to stay at Bowness House, searching for the peace she was denied years ago--instead she finds murder and what might be love.

eBook Publisher: ebooksonthe.net, Published: 2005
Fictionwise Release Date: August 2005

4 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [1.4 MB], eReader (PDB) [250 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [239 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [214 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [210 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [252 KB], hiebook (KML) [606 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [331 KB], iSilo (PDB) [196 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [246 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [294 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [310 KB]
Words: 72118
Reading time: 206-288 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: 978-1-59431-169-2

"Stop him! Stop him!" The shrill cry pierced the quiet October morning.

Claire Stanhope had been waiting for a train in that small Devon station near Exeter. She turned and saw a woman running down the platform in her direction, in pursuit of a little boy.

The child darted by Claire and reached the front of the platform where he tottered on the edge then fell onto the tracks.

Each of the other travelers near Claire reacted differently. The withered elderly woman in a wheelchair gasped and her male nurse bent to calm his patient. The woman seated next to them dropped her knitting. While all three seemed to freeze into position, a train appeared around a bend in the track, racing toward the station.

Mindless of her own safety, Claire leaped from the platform onto the tracks below. She grabbed the child. Holding him tightly in her arms, she rolled away from the tracks.

Seconds later, the express train roared past them, missing Claire and the child by mere inches. With the danger past, the boy promptly burst into tears.

The stationmaster appeared out of nowhere to kneel at the platform edge. Holding out his hand, he helped Claire and the child climb back onto the platform.

The child's mother embraced her son and Claire. "Thank you. Thank you." She sobbed, overwhelmed with emotion.

"Mommy, you're hurting me." The little boy cried, pressed between the two women. His mother released his rescuer. Claire wiped at what had been her favorite navy wool pantsuit. As she surveyed the soiled fabric and a small tear in one sleeve, she made a mental note to take the outfit to the cleaners. Then she realized how much worse her condition might have been and wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Since the Stanhopes frowned on displaying emotion in public, she contented herself with a childhood habit. She sucked in her breath and gnawed her lower lip.

While her pulse slowed toward normal, Claire shivered. Death had come too close for comfort. In an attempt to soothe the other woman, she patted her on the arm. "Please don't thank me," she murmured softly. "You'd have done the same." She managed a shaky smile before stepping away.

A spontaneous burst of applause from a crowd of curious onlookers now gathering on the platform prompted Claire to search for a way to escape the unwanted attention.

The WC signs on the side of the station caught her eye. Without a moment's hesitation, she pushed open the door marked "Ladies" and dove inside.

As luck would have it, the restroom was deserted. She conducted a quick survey of her body in the privacy of a stall and was relieved to find nothing worse than a few minor scrapes and bruises. Soaking a paper towel in cold water, she dabbed at her worst wound, a scrapped left elbow. Hopefully, the little boy had fared no worse.

By the time Claire stepped from the restroom, she was pleased to find the crowd had dispersed. The mother and child had also left. She'd hoped to see them again so she could make certain the lad was all right.

Perhaps the last person to witness what had happened, an old lady with a backpack patted Claire's arm in passing. "Good for you, lass," she said in a thick Scottish brogue.

Like a magical chariot, Claire's own train chose that moment to glide to a halt at the platform. It was a most welcome sight.