CHAPTER 1

October

Later, when everything settled down, and Erin looked back on how the year played out, she had to laugh. If she'd known in October what she knew in January, she might've slammed the door in Noah's face. And what a tragic end to the story that would've been…

She met him on a Saturday evening. He came to the door and asked for her sister. Her younger sister.

Her much younger sister.

"I'm Noah. Is Suzie around?" He was in costume for the Halloween party they'd be attending that evening–faded jeans, a ten-gallon Stetson, and a black shirt that matched his longish hair. Erin found herself staring. Not often you came across a cowboy in eastern Wisconsin.

"Uh…yeah. I think she's almost ready."

He leaned against the doorframe and smiled at her, and if she'd been staring before, now she gaped. Young–very young, maybe twenty-two. Which was her sister's age, so that made sense. His hair was so dark and glossy it looked almost reflective, and his strong jaw was clean-shaven, unlike many of the guys who orbited inside Suzie's zone. Guys who seemed to think "patchy stubble" or "unkempt goatee" were code for "über-cool manly man." His voice rang deep but smooth, and so soft she had to strain to catch his words. And his eyes? Carolina blue–that shade of summer-in-the-Southland sky so intense it took your breath away.

"Can I come in?"

"What?"

"Can I come into the house to wait for Suzie?" He was still smiling, wide and unconcerned.

"Yes, of course. Sorry." Leaning heavily on her cane, she moved aside to allow him through the door. He towered over her–at least five inches above her five-eleven-and-three-quarters–and his shoulders were broad enough to block her view of the staircase for a second or two.

She cleared her throat and said, "My name is–"

"Erin. Suzie told me."

"Good memory." So Suzie had talked about her older sister who'd moved back into the family home. What else had she mentioned? Maybe how much she didn't welcome the inconvenience?

He leaned against the closed front door, stretching his endless legs before him. Only then did she see the boots–definitely not the get-along-little-doggies kind. More like the steel-toed-shit-kicking variety. Interesting.

"So," he said, "are you joining us tonight?" He took off the hat and swept a long-fingered hand through his hair, which instantly transformed him from a cowboy into a good-looking guy standing in her foyer.

She shrugged. "I haven't made up my–"

"Erin needs to stay home and rest. Right, sis?" Suzie said from the doorway that led to the hall. She smiled, but her dark eyes narrowed as she looked at them standing there together. A sign of bad weather on the horizon. The tail of the black cat costume she wore dragged on the floor behind her as she crossed the room to grab Noah's wrist.

Noah glanced at Erin. "She doesn't look tired to me."

Suzie's chin came up in that defiant way Erin knew too well. "She's recovering from a gunshot wound."

Erin flinched. "Really, Suzie's right. I should stay in and–"

"And what? Dole out candy to the kiddies? Sounds like a crappy way to spend the night." Noah slid an arm around Suzie's shoulders. "We'll watch out for her, won't we? Make sure your sister has a good time."

During the long pause that followed, Erin watched the play of emotions over her sister's lovely face. She opened her mouth to decline the invitation, but Suzie's next comment made her voice dry up in her throat.

"Half."

"Huh?" Noah's brow creased into a frown.

"She's just a half-sister," Suzie said, her mouth tight around the words.

Ouch. But okay, not unreasonable. Nobody looking at them would ever mistake them for full-blooded siblings. Not with Suzie being so small and dark and…well, "slinky" was the word that always popped into Erin's mind when she thought about her younger sister. Nary a freckle marred Suzie's flawless olive complexion, while Erin clearly had inherited more than her fair share, plus the unruly auburn hair that went with them. Not to mention the Mulally height and solid, well-built frame. There'd been kids back in school who'd refused to believe they were siblings at all.

Copyright © 2007 Selah March.