Straight From The Heart

Two passionate novellas and the story of the author’s own happily-ever-after romance.

Straight from the Heart

Straight from the Heart

Two

Three

Four

Winds of Change

Love at First Sight

About The Author

by

Janelle Taylor

Bell Bridge Books

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events or locations is entirely coincidental.

Bell Bridge Books
PO BOX 300921
Memphis, TN 38130
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-61194-181-4
Print ISBN: 78-1-61194-165-4

Bell Bridge Books is an Imprint of BelleBooks, Inc.

Straight from the Heart
© 1997
Winds of Change
© 1996
Love at First Sight
©
1985

Winds of Change
was originally published in a mass market edition as part of the LOVE’S LEGACY anthology from Leisure Books.

Straight from the Heart
was originally published in mass market paperback as part of the SUMMER LOVE anthology from Zebra Books.

Love at First Sight
was originally published in hardcover as part of the MY FIRST REAL ROMANCE anthology from Henry Holt & Co.

Printed and bound in the United States of America.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

We at BelleBooks enjoy hearing from readers.
Visit our websites – www.BelleBooks.com and www.BellBridgeBooks.com.

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Cover design: Debra Dixon
Interior design: Hank Smith
Photo credits:
Heart ribbon (manipulated) © Robertsrob |Dreamstime.com

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Mhs
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One

Thunk! Ka-bang!

Kimberly Harden clamped onto the suddenly spinning steering wheel and held hard as her little compact shimmied through a yawning rut outside Betsy’s rustic mountain cabin. Rain poured so heavily over the windshield she felt as if she were in a car wash. Kim held her breath, her heart hammering painfully. She half expected some new awful thing to happen. When all remained still except for the harsh tattoo of the rain on the roof of the car, she exhaled on a deep sigh.

She’d made it here in one piece!

A smile quirked her lips. So, okay, the weather was a total nightmare. So what? She needed this weekend away like she’d never needed anything before. Life could be pure hell, and since her less-than-amicable divorce, she’d experienced that side of it more than she’d believed possible.

Her ex-husband was a lying louse. The vision of him gloating in the courtroom as his attorney denounced her in the most wickedly awful and untruthful terms was so indelibly etched in Kimberly’s mind that it could still bring tears to her eyes and quicken her heartbeat.

And yes, she’d won custody of Bobby because all of Alan’s lies had proven to be just that—lies. But those untruths had scraped against her heart and soul, leaving little wounds which couldn’t quite seem to heal over.

Digging in the backseat for her bag, Kim tried not to think of the custody trial. There were so many things about it that still hurt. Her disillusionment was complete. And it certainly hadn’t helped when Stephen Wright of Jackson, Wright and Smith Associates—and an extremely attractive divorced father to boot!—had taken Alan’s case. Okay, so he wasn’t the actual trial attorney—rat-faced Robert Jackson won those honors. But it had been
Stephen
who’d referred Alan to Robert.
Stephen
who’d believed all Alan’s lies.
Stephen
whose green eyes had made Kim drift into romantic school girlish dreams that still had the power to make her blush.

“Beast,” she muttered between her teeth.

It was good to get away from all that. Darn good.

When Betsy, Kim’s good friend and mother of Bobby’s best friend, Chad, had offered a free weekend at her parents’ cabin, Kimberly had jumped at the chance. She knew the cabin. Remote, yet cozy. Miles away from civilization, but close enough to make the trip back to Portland in half a day. Kim had been here before, and all her memories were warm and wonderful, the kind that brought a smile to her lips and a sense of well-being that was soul deep. Powerful medicine. A much needed tonic.

To hell with Alan,
she thought as she gathered her purse with her overnight bag and climbed from the car. Now all she had to do was negotiate this terrible weather until she got to the front door. Then she was home free.

Placing her bunchy leather purse atop her head, she ran for the front door. A light shone from somewhere inside, dim and yellow, and Kimberly’s radar went on alert.
Oh, no!
Was someone here? She was supposed to have the place to herself.

The tail end of a red Jeep Cherokee peeked from the side of the house. Heart sinking, Kimberly wondered what was up. Raising her hand to knock, she was startled when the door swung open on its own, and a man stood silhouetted in the light.

“I’m sorry
 . . .
” she murmured, stepping back.

His intake of breath was a warning, standing the hair on her arms on end. “Mrs. Harden?” he asked in that rough, smooth voice she’d come to loathe.

Alan’s attorney! Stephen Wright!

“Oh, my God!” Kimberly, reacting on pure instinct, dropped everything and ran for her blue compact as if the devil himself were at her heels.

A series of swear words
crossed Stephen’s mind, unspoken but vehemently uttered nonetheless. What was
she
doing here? “Wait!” he yelled. When she didn’t heed him, he ran through the pouring deluge, catching up with her at the car door. He made the foolish mistake of trying to grab her arm. She jabbed an elbow in his solar plexus that turned his next words into a sharp gasp. “Kimberly!”

“Don’t touch me,” she shot back. “Let go!”

Since he was practically doubled over and clutching his chest, her words were unnecessary. “I’m—not—”

“Well, you were. I can’t believe you’re here! What are you doing? Stay away from me.”

“Don’t worry,” he managed to answer, annoyed. He drew a deep breath and glared at her. “I was just trying to keep you from getting soaked to the skin.”

“Too late.”

“Yeah, well, whose fault is that?”

“Stay—there,” she said, when he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Stephen shook his head. Unbelievable! Throwing up his hands in mock surrender, he glared at her through the curtain of rain. Instantly his mood lifted. She looked like the proverbial drowned rat.

“What are you smiling at?” she demanded suspiciously.

“You,” he admitted.

“Well, I’m glad you see something funny in this.”

“I do. As a matter of fact, I think this is a damn riot. I came up here for a weekend of sun and fun in the mountains, and look—a summer storm like you’ve never seen! And we’re both standing out here as if there’s not a torrential downpour likely to drown us in ten minutes flat!”

Her hand was on the car door. She clenched it over the handle and pulled several times. Water poured over her as if the heavens above were already flooded and spilling the overflow onto Mother Earth. “I’m locked out,” Kim said.

Stephen threw back his head and laughed. Her car keys were in her purse which she’d thrown down just outside the cabin door. “Well, then come inside. You can dry out, and we’ll figure out what’s going on.”

“Oh, no! I’m leaving. I’ll get my keys.”

“You can’t leave,” he told her.

That earned him a glare that could cut through steel. “Watch me!”

“The roads are flooded at the base of the mountain,” he explained. “They closed them about an hour ago.”

“They?” she repeated blankly, blinking against the rivulets of water that ran down her face. Her blond bangs pressed limp and dark against her forehead, and raindrops starred her lashes.

Stephen scowled to himself. He’d known Kimberly for several years, and he’d always found her attractive. A small surge of warmth ran through him, then his good mood rapidly evaporated. “The Highway Patrol. This flash storm’s created a hellish mess. I take it you weren’t listening to the radio.”