Barren Hill

Used to be, the family bar was hopping until last call every night. Now? If the bank doesn't take her away from me in the next two months, it'll be a miracle. All because some fatcat politician thought building a new highway would earn him a few more votes. The last thing I need? A firecracker who has curves in all the right places and a smart mouth, telling me what to do to save my own damn bar. I can do this alone; except I recognize the pain I see in those moss-colored eyes. Sure I don’t need any help, but it seems like she does.

I have one word for the holiday season. Ba-humbug! It’s the same song for me every year. Another holiday alone. Not that I want to, but when you only have one arm, there aren't many ladies waiting for me under the mistletoe. Until I meet Amelia at an amputee support group. Not only is she beautiful and a bad ass, but she understands what it's like to feel incomplete. Except she's fresh from the battlefield with a forty-meter perimeter around her heart.

Sometimes the best solution for rain clouds, is the sun demanding to be seen. That demanding ray of sunshine had a name. It was Remle Clay. She marched into my life with no preamble and refused to be ignored. No matter how hard I slammed the door, she’d find a window to tap against. The people of Sycamore Mountain gave me a wide berth, and I liked it that way. All I wanted was peace and quiet, so how did that curvy red head continue to insinuate herself into my space?