Hart of Gold-Hart to Heart Series: A Hart's Brother's Novel

By Jennifer Becker

Rachel Little has been avoiding her hometown for years, but an unexpected call from her father’s lawyer claiming she needed to go over some paperwork has her flying across the country and driving through what has been labeled as the storm of the century sweeping across the state of Oregon. 
She vowed never to return when her mother disappeared without a trace and her father, the town Sheriff, did nothing to find her.
Fate has other plans as her car slides into an embankment and the new town Sheriff and the man she has had a crush on for the past five years, comes to the rescue.
Adam Hart has only two loves in his life. Being Sheriff and Rachel Little. To say he is shocked she came back to her hometown is an understatement, but it doesn’t stop him from wanting her, but he still has a job to do. 
Things have been complicated for the past year as Adam fills the shoes of Sheriff and end the corruption from the previous Sheriff. Many doubt his ability. Knowing actions speak louder than words Adam begins looking into the trafficking ring the previous Sherriff was involved in.
Rachel becomes the key to solving the mystery and so much more.
Every day he finds a reason to see Rachel and chip away at the ice she hides her heart behind. Every day he sees more and more of the woman he first fell in love with.
Will she help him solve the mystery or disappear again? Can Adam finally tell Rachel how he had always felt about her? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publishdrive
• Release date: Jan 21, 2020

Book preview

Epilogue

Chapter 1

What am I doing?

It was a question Rachel had been asking herself for the past few hours. It wasn't because she was being forced to go back to Oregon, a place she hadn’t been to in five years. Her father’s lawyer had called her earlier today, needing her to go over some paperwork she had to come to Oregon to go over and sign. If she was being forced to go back, she was staying at her cabin her mother had left her when she died. Rachel wanted nothing to do with the man who raised her. In her opinion, John Little died years ago.

As soon as she graduated high school, she had left town and moved to Portland. After a few years, it wasn’t far enough away from her father and his controlling ways, so she packed up and moved to the East coast, settling in Florida and never looked back.

It wasn't even the storm of the century that swept across the state that made her drive a nightmare to get here. She should have turned back and driven back to the airport, hours ago, but no. She stubbornly drove to the cabin, bound and determined to get this over with and never see Oregon again.

It was a shame; it was such a pretty state but was riddled with too many bad memories. 

So why was she out in this storm?

She knew if she didn’t do it now, she never would. Her friends in Florida, who knew a little about her history told her she would never be able to move on with her life if she didn’t face her past. Her friends seemed to think she needed closure. Rachel wasn’t so sure. She would have been just fine having the lawyer fax her paperwork for her to sign and never step foot in this state again, but her lawyer made it sound like she didn’t have a choice in coming back.

If she turned back now, she knew she would never make this journey again.

Rachel turned up the heater that was already full blast cursing the coldness. She should have known Oregon around Christmas meant there would be snow. She had forgotten, to be honest. Strange, living here her whole life she forgot about something as basic as winter. Florida had spoiled her with the constant warm and muggy days. Year-round summer-like conditions tended to spoil you.

The windshield wiper was at full speed as well, not that it was helping. She could barely see where she was going. This was a part of winter she hadn’t missed. She should have bought some warmer clothes for the trip. She had thought she would be in and out in a day, two max. This storm was going to damper her plans.

She owned a small boutique near the waterfront that had flourished over the years. Rachel had poured everything she had into starting it and building it into a profitable small business. She was most proud of the fact she had done it on her own. Growing up she always wanted to be her own boss. Every job she had worked since a teenager was to save up to leave Oregon and buy her own store. It had taken many years and several jobs to get to where she was.

Rachel wished she were there now. She could be lying by her pool with a glass of wine in her hand relaxing in the warm breeze, but no, she had to be freezing her ass off to see a lawyer about a man she couldn’t give two shits about.

Hence her asking herself what she was doing driving through town for supplies. She should have gotten things in Portland when she landed and picked up her rental car, so she didn't have to be out in the blizzard more than was necessary. It wasn’t like the pilot and the radio hadn’t warned her as soon as she landed about the storm. She hadn’t thought she would be driving through it. She thought it would have struck the coastal part of the state, not the entire thing. Stupid her.

The snow was coming down heavily, she could barely see past the hood of the car. Almost eight inches of snow already piled up on the road making her little car struggle. She should have rented an SUV. She knew the little Prius would never make it through all this snow. She still had to get up to the cabin which was hilly and required four-wheeling. A car would never make it in this weather, but she had to try. What other choice did she have? Her dad’s house was out of the question, and the town didn’t have a motel.

After white-knuckling for what felt like hours, when it was just shy of two, with the white-out conditions, Rachel pulled in front of Fran's general store. She had never been so happy to see the red neon sign above the door. It was a guiding beacon through the blowing snow. She was even happier when she saw the open sign in the window.

Fran, the owner lived above the store, so it wasn’t surprising that the store was still open but given the storm and no other cars on the road she feared Fran already closed up for the night. That would have put a wrench in her already failing plans. The cabin didn’t have any supplies since it hadn’t been occupied in years. She needed food and firewood if she was going to stay there for the night.

Rachel grabbed her purse and keys before racing out of her car to make a mad dash into the store. She didn't bother locking it. Thievery wasn't big in these parts, and no one besides her was crazy enough to be out. 

The cold robbed her of breath as an icy blast of cold wind whipped her in the face. Holy shit, it was cold! The wind was frigid and blowing 50 plus mph. Her light jacket and jeans did little to protect her from the harsh winds. Rachel squinted through the snow trying to run to the door without tripping in her haste.

The door chimed as she rushed in. Heat immediately blasted her in the face. She stood in the entry a moment, trying to get heat back into her limbs. Just the few seconds in the snow she was wet head to toe. Her toes were near frozen in her tennis shoes. She cursed herself for the hundredth time taking this trip and not checking the weather report before booking her flight.

If this storm wasn't a sign she should have stayed home, she didn't know what was. It was too late to turn back now. Roads were closing up; flights were probably canceled too. She wouldn't have a choice now except to stay here. At least for the night. The storm wouldn't last forever. She'd stay the night, talk to the lawyer, and flight back tomorrow if all went as planned.

Rachel took a moment to look around and reacclimate herself to the place. It was decked out in holiday cheer. Christmas lights hung around the windows and doors. A jolly tune played overhead from the speakers. A small stool stood near the door with a plate of gingerbread cookies on it. Fran knew how to make the place feel warm and welcoming. She had missed that. It was hard to get into the holiday spirit when you lived in eighty plus degree weather and could wear a swimsuit the whole year.

Hello, an old quiet voice called from the back of the store. 

Hello, Rachel called back, brushing snow off her coat and stomping snow from her shoes. Shoes that we're not meant to be out in the cold. Tennis shoes and snowstorms didn't mix well. At least she had a coat, though not one for winter. Once she moved to Florida, she had donated her heavier clothing and substituted it for short sleeves and skirts. She owned a few pairs of jeans and one light-weight jacket she was currently wearing. She hadn’t been thinking about the winter season outside of her home. In places like Oregon that snowed and could reach below freezing temps

She hadn’t planned on staying long, so she hadn’t bothered to shop for her visit. Boy was she regretting that decision now.

Rachel wondered if she should look into buying a pair of boots and a coat while she was here. A hat and gloves couldn’t hurt either. She wouldn’t be here long, but she would freeze to death in the less than twenty-four hours she would be here if she didn’t stock up.

She didn’t know what condition the cabin was in. The roof could have caved in for all she knew. If she was going to have to rough it, she wanted to do it as warm as possible. If her Prius quit on her before she reached the cabin she would be hiking. Hiking in a foot of snow, if not more for several miles, had frostbit written all over it, and she was quite partial to her toes. She wouldn’t need them past today, but it was a necessity for tonight. She added a coat and boots to her growing list of supplies she needed.

An elderly woman stepped out of the back room with a smile on her face then stopped when she saw Rachel. Her face turned pale. Rachel? Is that you child?

Hi, Fran. Rachel half-smiled, feeling awkward. It was a small town where everyone knew everyone. She used to stop at Fran's for supplies every time she came up to the cabin before her mom disappeared. Rachel was shocked she recognized her. She hadn’t been near the cabin since she graduated from High School, but then again she had been the Sheriff’s daughter. That kind of info stuck out in people’s minds.

While Rachel didn’t look completely different, she was tall, at five-foot-eleven. Tall women in these parts stood out. She could thank her mom for her height. It had made it awkward in school being as tall if not taller than most of the guys but being in fashion she knew how to cater to women of all sizes. Her coworkers were all much shorter and helped Rachel design well-rounded clothes.

Rachel’s hair was still a bright blonde but added a few pink streaks throughout. It had been impulsive the last time she was at the hair stylists but had been assured it would wash out in a few weeks.

Rachel liked having it. It made her feel edgier. Like she had left the small town girl behind and embracing a new life. The fact Fran recognized her in seconds told her she hadn’t changed that much.

I can't believe it. It's been...

Twelve years, Rachel finished for her. 

Twelve years. Fran echoed.

I need to get a few things, Rachel said, trying to steer the conversation away from her dad. She never cared for him and never made it a secret. She didn’t know all the details surrounding his death, and she didn’t want to know. He had been caught in some illegal activity and had been shot to death. Rachel hadn’t wanted to know more. The less she knew about the man the better. She wanted to see the lawyer and get back to her life as soon as possible.

You’re staying at the cabin? Fran asked in disbelief.

Rachel didn't blame her. She was second-guessing her own decision. If it wasn't for the storm and the fact she was almost there, she'd already be on her way back to the airport or at least a hotel in the next town over. Just for the night, she assured her. Rachel had no plans of returning after today. She honestly should have sold the cabin years ago but never had the heart. The cabin was her mother’s favorite place. Her mother had left it to her, it was her last connection to her. Selling it would be like losing her mother all over again.

Fran's smile returned. It's good to see you again.

Feeling tears pool in her eyes and her throat tightening up, Rachel grabbed a basket to get the few things she needed to get out as fast as she could. She didn’t want to talk to Fran about her emotional turmoil being back here after all these years. Fran might think it was over her dad. It would be a cold day in hell before she wasted a tear on him. You too, Rachel hastily replied before heading down the aisles.

Rachel wiped at a tear sliding down her cheek angerly. She never should have come back. The memories of this place and people were too much for her. She thought she could do this, but she was wrong. She'd rather be home sweating in hundred-degree humidity then here freezing in this frozen wasteland.

Twenty four hours. She just had to meet with the lawyer, and she could go back home.

She spotted coats and shoes in the back, heading there first. She grabbed the first pair of boots in her size and put them on. Instant heat cocooned her feet. So much better than tennis shoes. They weren’t stylish, but they served their purpose. She took a heavy coat off the rack and tried it on. It wasn’t practical for Miami, but here in Latourell, it would keep her warm and dry. She could always donate it when she got back home. Next, she grabbed a scarf and gloves.

Feeling warm and cozy, Rachel rounded an aisle for canned goods and started loading up her basket when the chime above the door went off again. A glance up revealed a man, she was guessing by his built under the large coat, walked in. She couldn't see his face with a scarf pulled over his nose and mouth, and a ski hat pulled low over his brows leaving only his eyes visible. A sense of knowing filled her, but she couldn’t figure out why. Besides Fran, she didn’t know anyone in the area anymore.

Adam, Fran greeted cheerfully.

Hi, Franny, the man greeted back. He pulled down his scarf, revealing the side of his face.  A well-trimmed facial hair covered a strong jawline. A perfectly straight nose.

A stirring blossomed in Rachel’s chest then settled in her belly. He was handsome, and all she could see was the side view of him. She bet the front view was even better.

A sense of knowledge of the man consumed her. But why? She didn’t have any connection to anyone here anymore. She only knew Fran from the trips here on the way up to the cabin. She could only think of one person in the state that made her insides quiver, but it couldn’t possibly be him. Could it? No. Adam Hart was stationed in Portland. He would have no reason to be here.

Not that I'm complaining, but I'm surprised you're still open with a storm like this blowing through town. Everyone else closed up. Even the highways are shutting down.

Fran hmphed and fisted her hands on her hips. I’ve never closed early a day in my life, and I’m not about to start now over a few snowflakes.

Rachel had to cover her mouth to smother a chuckle. Only Fran would refer to the storm of the century as a few snowflakes. That woman wasn't scared of anything.

I get that but− the man was cut off. He should have known better than to argue with Fran, especially when it came to the running of her store.

Now you listen here, she warned sternly with a finger-wagging in his face. This general store has been open for over seventy years. Since me and my dearly departed, Albert opened it. I have never missed a day of work, and it has always been open seven days a week from nine am to nine pm. That will never change as long as I'm alive.

Okay, Franny. The man held his hands up in surrender. Realizing he'd never win this argument.

It was comical to watch the man be scared of a woman half his size. Fran was only about five-foot-three, but she acted like she was ten feet tall. Few people were dumb enough to cross her. She could be meaner than a grizzly if provoked.

Besides, it’s a good thing I stayed open; otherwise Rachel would have been stranded in the cold with no food or winter clothes. She tsked, but Rachel wasn’t focused on her, she was focused on the man.

At the mention of her name, the man looked over at her as if he knew exactly where she had been standing this whole time. His eyes widened in shock at seeing her. His mouth opened then closed several times before he could utter, Rachel Little, I can’t believe it. You’re back.

Chapter 2

Rachel gasped at seeing the man's face clearly. Though the hat covered his hair, she knew it was dark brown, just as she knew his eyes were icy blue with a speck of gold in them. Adam Hart. She had met him when she moved to Portland. Her roommate had dated one of his friends, and whenever Adam was on leave from the Army he came to visit. She had always looked forward to his visits, as infrequent as they were. Last she had heard he was getting out of the Army and becoming a police officer in Portland.

Of all the places, why did he have to be here? This was one part of her plan she hadn’t accounted for. Seeing Adam again. She was surprised he even remembered her. As a group, they had gone out for drinks with her roommate and boyfriend, but she had never seen Adam outside of their group. She had always had a crush on him though.

Hello, Adam.

Was that her voice? It sounded deep. Almost seductive. What was wrong with her? This was Adam. A friend of a friend who never saw her more like one of the gang. She couldn't talk to him like that. He wasn’t interested in her. Rachel cleared her throat and tried again. It's been a long time. There. That sounded better, more casual. Not excited and breathless seeing him again.

I never thought I’d see you again. Not after... His words trailed off as he stepped toward her. Like a magnet pulling them together, Rachel found herself walking toward him and stopped when he was only inches away from her. He was at least four inches taller than her five-foot-eleven height.

She remembered the first time she met him. She was shocked; she almost had to look up to meet his eye. She had been excited to be able to wear heels when he came to town and not feel like a towering giant over her friends.

Adam didn't need to finish the sentence for her to know what he left unsaid. After her father showed up at the apartment, threatening her to come back home. Rachel’s roommate or Adam’s friend must have told him about it.

Her father wanted her back under his thumb, but she refused. She had been embarrassed when her dad showed up unannounced at the apartment and tried kicking her roommate and friends out. Rachel told them to stay and that her father didn’t have anything to say they couldn’t hear.

Her roommate, Ashley, knew about her dad and Rachel’s dislike for him. She supported Rachel as her father told her what a failure she was and needed to come home. Rachel had kicked him out and packed up her things and left that day. I hadn’t planned on coming back. She never thought to ever come back to this place. And she most definitely hadn't ever planned on seeing Adam Hart again. Seeing Adam again brought back all the old memories of all she once had and all she lost. A close friendship and happier times.

It wasn’t that she didn’t have friends in Miami, but she always feared her dad coming after her again, so she kept her distance, ready to pack up at a moment’s notice. Something