A FATHER’S QUEST
"Spolight on Sentinel Pass"
Harlequin Superromance |
Jonas Galloway wouldn’t show up on Remy Bouchard’s doorstep without an excellent reason. Not after a secret destroyed what was so good between them. In this case, though, locating his daughter trumps unfinished business. He hopes he can persuade Remy to see it the same way.
Working with his high school sweetheart makes Jonas want to pick up where they left off. Especially because Remy is more tempting than ever. But he is a father and his little girl has to be his priority. Then an exposed lie hands him and Remy a possible future. And he can’t leave Louisiana without finding out if second chances are all they’re cracked up to be….
4 STARS FROM RT BOOK REVIEWS:
A FATHER’S QUEST (4) by Debra Salonen: Jonas Galloway is desperate to find his missing young daughter, whose mother joined a cult while he was in Afghanistan. He turns to his ex-girlfriend and possible half-sister, Remy Bouchard, for help. Remy has psychic revelations when she dreams — she actually found Jonas when he was missing as a child — and he hopes she’ll be
able to pinpoint his daughter’s location. But Remy has decided she doesn’t believe in her visions and wants to change her life. The last person she wants to see is the man she once loved — until her mother told them they were probably related and Jonas ran away without finding the truth. Salonen’s characters are real people with real, although somewhat exaggerated, problems. Birdie, once found, is a charming secondary character, and Remy’s gift serves as a catalyst for Remy and Jonas’ rekindled relationship, adding a nice bit of mysticism to the story. ~ Romantic Times
Spotlight on Sentinel Pass
Remy Bouchard stretched with the sweet pleasure of awakening in her own bed. A cool Louisiana breeze drifted through her window, carrying the scent of magnolias and the sputtering hum of a neighbor’s mower. She smiled even before she opened her eyes to the rich magenta hue of her ceiling.
“Home,” she murmured, with a contented sigh.
Not that the past few weeks hadn’t been an adventure she’d always remember. The Black Hills of South Dakota had left a mark on her heart, and with her twin sister, Jessie, relocating there, Remy knew she’d return to the area soon.
But not too soon.
First, she needed to figure out exactly what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. She’d left Louisiana a few weeks earlier intending to use the time and distance to get some perspective on her life. She was thirty-two years old, unmarried, unemployed, un…everyfhing. And the worst part of all was she had no idea what she wanted to accomplish.
She’d had dreams once. A long time ago. She’d planned to marry the love of her life, settle right here in Baylorville to be near her mother and sisters, raise a family and become a teacher. A normal life. That’s all she’d ever craved.
Normal. Like that was even possible, given my family.
She sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and hopped out of bed. Her toes curled up from contact with the chilly wood surface. She’d let her sisters take whatever possessions of their mother’s they wanted after Mama passed. Someone must have wanted the throw rug that had always been beside the bed.
“Are you finally awake, sleepyhead?” a voice called from somewhere on the first floor. Jessie. Her sister. Her twin.
“I’m awake, but I’m not coming down until I smell the coffee percolating,” Remy hollered back. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to brew real Louisiana coffee.”
The best thing about Jessie was she’d never dodged a challenge in her life.
But given the lateness of the hour—good heavens, it was after eight—there was a chance the coffee was already made and transferred to the thermal carafe Mama had kept filled most every day of her life. A life that had ended some ten months earlier.
Tiptoeing to the closet, Remy threw open the double doors and stepped inside. This was the only closet of decent size in the house. Mama had speculated that it was originally planned as a nursery, but since the lone window was a tiny, nonfunctioning oval with leaded glass, Remy had her doubts.
There were two smaller bedrooms and one bath on the second floor. The I940s-era home wasn’t a true New Orleans’s shotgun because it had a second floor, but Baylorville wasn’t N’Awlins, either. The quiet hamlet was made up of an old downtown with a few surviving businesses, such as Marlene’s House of Beauty and a newly renamed Dollar Shoppe, which replaced the old Five and Ten. There was also a school and the post office. Outside town was Catfish Haven, which was, perhaps, Baylorville’s only claim to fame. All in all, the town was nothing fancy—that’s what New Orleans, some forty-odd miles to the southeast, was for.
She pulled her Donna Karan nightgown over her head and folded it neatly before putting it away in the chest of drawers.
“Is this fast enough for you?”
The smell of chicory beat Jessie through the door.
Remy popped her head out of the closet. “Wow. Your ankle must be a whole lot better if you can climb the stairs, carrying two cups.”
“It’s amazing what really good painkillers can do,” Jessie responded. “But I already had my coffee with Cade and Shiloh before they took off to rent a truck, so I only had to carry one cup. Where do you want this?”
Remy quickly pulled on a pair of panties. “Set it on the dresser while I get…
- return to top -