Secret Obsession (Carder Texas Connections #6)(63)
He cleared his throat and then swallowed, his nerves nearly shot. “I have a special family tradition I wanted to share with you,” he said, reaching for the wishbone.
He looked up. The entire family stood in the kitchen doorway watching.
“Da!” Jocelyn shouted, stretching out her arms. He snagged the little girl. “Want to see if your wish comes true?”
Lyssa reached out and stared at the red ribbon attached to the wishbone.
Hanging off the silk was a diamond ring. An engagement ring.
He knelt down. “Would you be a part of the Bradford family, Lyssa? I love you. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to make you and Jocelyn happy.”
She stared at the ring, then up at him.
“I love you, Noah Bradford. The one and only.” She smiled at him. “Of course, I’ll marry you.”
The entire family erupted in cheers.
A glass of champagne later and Paul wheeled into the corner with Jocelyn and Joshua in his lap.
Thanksgiving had officially come, and they had a lot to be thankful for.
Noah tucked Lyssa close to him and kissed her temple. She turned in his arms. “It’s forever, right?”
“Forever and always.”
*
Keep reading for an excerpt from HUNTED by Beverly Long.
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Chapter One
Chandler McCann kept the radio on low since the thoughts in her head were making loud screeching sounds, spurring on a headache that no amount of diet soda could touch. All night, the headlights from oncoming traffic had seemed overly bright, catching sharp corners of the mammoth mountains, making them bulge and buckle in an unfriendly way, forcing her to hold the steering wheel in a viselike grip.
She was grateful to turn off the interstate, knowing that the cabin was now less than thirty minutes away. It had been two years since she’d been there. That time she’d gotten on the plane in Denver and the flight attendant barely had time to hand out beverages before the plane landed at the Eagle County Regional Airport fifty minutes later. The flight had been crowded with skiers headed toward Vail, which sat thirty miles to the east.
Mack had picked her up in his Jeep and they’d headed the opposite direction, winding their way through the mountains. With a carefree abandon that Chandler couldn’t hope to imitate, her brother had navigated the string of razor-sharp switchbacks that, in many places, offered as little as a two-foot shoulder.
That day it had been sunny in the mountains. Tonight, however, it had been dark for hours, and she’d been grateful for the half-moon that hung low in the sky. It would be after ten by the time she got to the cabin. It didn’t matter. Nobody was expecting her.
She was supposed to be working. As always.
Certainly not running.
Ten minutes later, Chandler caught the glare of headlights coming toward her and clicked to low beams. The SUV passed and she caught a glimpse of two people in the front seat.
She took a sip of warm, flat soda and turned up the heat. She hadn’t checked the weather but knew that it would be colder in the mountains than it had been in Denver. She suspected that she might regret not taking the time to pack a heavier jacket.
She slowed to take a curve, glanced in her rearview mirror and saw another set of car lights. She found some comfort in the fact that she wasn’t alone out in the middle of nowhere. On the next curve, however, comfort turned to surprise when she realized the car behind her was gaining fast. The driver had to be flying, which was a dangerous thing on these roads.
Three minutes later, the vehicle was so close that the lights were blindingly bright. Who was crazy enough to tailgate here?
“Idiot,” she muttered, just as the car bumped her.
She was so startled that it took her an extra second to react. She wrestled with the wheel. And was just bringing her car back under control when she was hit again. Her Toyota Camry skidded forward.
What the hell?
Once, an accident? Twice, no way. She pressed on the gas, desperately wanting to put some space between her and the other car.
Then she got hit a third time. Hard.
Her car went airborne and her right front fender struck a glancing blow off the side of the mountain, sending her skidding across the narrow highway, straight toward the edge.
She slammed on the brakes. And started spinning.
She was going over.
And all she could do was hang on and wait to die.
When her car came to a stop, it was jarring. She pitched forward at the same time her air bag inflated.
It slapped her back in the seat, pushing hard against her face and chest. Her shoulder belt jerked tight. She felt a burning sensation arch across her cheekbones and settle on the bridge of her nose.
She stayed conscious, at least she thought she did, aware of the deflating air bag and the strong chemical smell it left behind. She also was aware that her neck hurt when she tried to turn her head.