Sequins and Spurs. Cheryl St.John

      

       Ruby gave him a look filled with appreciation. “Thank you for putting aside your resentment and giving me a chance.”

      “Don’t thank me yet.” Nash took a step back. “Goodnight, Ruby.”

      She offered him a soft smile. “Goodnight.”

      He locked the kitchen door and went up to his room. Thanks to Ruby he had his children back under his roof and could rest easy about that. Her presence here wasn’t conducive to sleep, however.

      He thought of her traveling the country with her theater friends and riding that horse all the way to Nebraska on her own. In a way it bothered him, but on the other hand she impressed him beyond measure. He couldn’t think of another woman who would be so independent or daring. Few females would have packed a bag, saddled a horse and ridden alone for weeks and weeks.

      Ruby was not like other women.

      And those differences kept him awake at night.

      Author of more than fifty romances, CHERYL ST. JOHN’s stories have earned RITA® nominations, Romantic Times awards, and are published in a dozen languages. In describing her stories of second chances, readers use words like ‘emotional punch, believable characters and real-life situations’. Visit her at www.cherylstjohn.net

      Sequins and Spurs

      Cheryl St.John

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      “Forgiveness is not an occasional act, it is a constant attitude.”

      —Martin Luther King, Jr.

      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Quote

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-One

       Chapter Twenty-Two

       Epilogue

       Extract

       Copyright

       Chapter One

      Crosby, Nebraska, 1883

      The screen door barely squeaked, but the familiar sound made Ruby’s heart leap. She’d never tiptoed all the way across the porch without Mama hearing that hinge and ordering her back to finish chores. Ruby Gail! Stop right there, missy.

      Apprehension and uncertainty rising, she pushed open the unlocked interior door and entered the front room. In the remaining light of day it took a minute for her eyes to adjust enough for her to tell the furniture had been arranged differently, and the curtains at the windows were unfamiliar. The farmhouse sat eerily silent. No cooking smells met her senses; in fact, she wrinkled her nose at a faint antiseptic scent mingled with lingering lemon wax.

      She hung her hat on a doorknob, lit the lantern sitting on a nearby table, and held it high to investigate. In the golden glow, she noted a light film of dust covering the wood furniture. Ruby frowned. Her mother dusted this room every day.

      Stifling her unease, Ruby tiptoed