The Gunslinger by Lorraine Heath Page A

dawned in the older couple’s eyes. Chance had loved his brother, would never forget him, but he had finally reconciled his actions on that fateful day. They still haunted him, they always would. But rather than searching for a bullet, now Chance honored his brother’s memory by tending the fields and his family. She didn’t think his parents would ever truly understand what one shot from his rifle had cost him, but they were here now and it was long past time hearts began to heal.
    â€œWe were about to sit down to supper,” Lillian said. “Will you join us?”
    â€œWe’d love to,” Chance’s mother said. “We have so many years to catch up on.”
    â€œToby, why don’t you show them where they can wash up?” Lillian suggested, sensing that Chance needed a moment.
    With his wife standing beside him, Chance stayed back, watching his parents stroll to the house, James between them, holding their hands. Toby opened the door and led them inside.
    Lillian slipped her arm around Chance, and he drew her more closely against his side.
    â€œThey hurt you, and yet you forgave them so easily,” she said softly.
    â€œIf they hadn’t sent me away, I wouldn’t have you.”
    â€œI’m not worth the years of loneliness and pain—”
    He touched his finger to her lips. “Lillian, you’re worth so much more.”
    Lowering his mouth to hers, he kissed her deeply, tenderly. He remembered Toby’s offer. He’d thought everything was a length of string, a harmonica, and a bent penny.
    But everything had turned out to be love.

 
    Don’t miss Lorraine Heath’s next spectacular historical romance!
    Keep reading for a sneak peek at
    Once More, My Darling Rogue
    Coming Summer 2014 from Avon Books

 
    Once More, My Darling Rogue
    A T THAT PRECISE moment Drake Darling wished to be anywhere other than where he was, but he was well aware that in life one did not always get what he wished for. On occasion, he didn’t even get what he deserved.
    So he relied upon what he’d learned during his formative years about deception and he pretended that he was positively delighted, beside himself with joy, to be the center of attention. He much preferred the shadows to glittering ballrooms. He was most comfortable when not noticed, but he was at best a chameleon. He knew how to blend in even when the blending in took place within a room with mirrored walls, gaslit chandeliers, and the finest personages the aristocracy had to offer.
    The one thing he was not feigning was his happiness for Grace and Lovingdon. He considered Grace a sister, even though their blood could not have been more opposite. For many years now he had been close to Lovingdon, a confidant on occasion, but more often a hell-raiser of late. Until Grace had captured the duke’s heart.
    Therefore, Drake couldn’t very well not attend the celebration of their marriage. Only minutes earlier he’d caught sight of the happy couple escaping the ballroom. Normally the bride and groom didn’t attend the ball held in their honor, but Grace was far from conventional. She’d wanted to dance with her father one last time. The Duke of Greystone’s eyesight was deteriorating, although only the family was aware of his affliction. Another reason Drake was here: to acknowledge his debt to the man and woman who had given him a home. His presence was expected, and so he gave no outward sign to the six young ladies surrounding him that he wished to be elsewhere. He always did whatever was required to ensure the duke and duchess had no regrets about taking him in.
    They were so young, the ladies who smiled and batted their lashes at him. Even the ones who were on the far side of five and twenty were too innocent for his tastes. They were all light and airy as though burdens were unknown to them, as though life encompassed nothing more than enjoyment. He preferred his women