A Soldier In Conard County. Rachel Lee

      

      He’s honoring a fallen friend...

      but never expected to fall in love.

      When he first arrives in Conard County, Sergeant Gil York is licking the wounds of combat—and mourning a beloved friend. But when he meets his fallen buddy’s cousin, Miriam Baker, the troubled hero feels alive in a way he hasn’t in years. Gil’s walls are high...but Miri might just be the one to scale them, right into his heart.

      RACHEL LEE was hooked on writing by the age of twelve and practiced her craft as she moved from place to place all over the United States. This New York Times bestselling author now resides in Florida and has the joy of writing full-time.

      Also available by Rachel Lee

      Undercover in Conard County

      Conard County Marine

      A Conard County Spy

      A Secret in Conard County

      Conard County Witness

      Playing with Fire

      Undercover Hunter

      Snowstorm Confessions

      Visit millsandboon.co.uk for more information

      A Soldier in Conard County

      Rachel Lee

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      ISBN: 978-1-474-07729-3

      A SOLDIER IN CONARD COUNTY

      © 2018 Susan Civil Brown

      Published in Great Britain 2018

      by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

      All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

      By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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      To all the men and women who have made sacrifices the rest of us can’t begin to comprehend.

      May you find comfort.

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       About the Author

       Booklist

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Dedication

       Prologue

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Epilogue

       Extract

       Prologue

      Followed by a smaller car, the hearse backed up behind Watkins Funeral Home on Poplar Street in Conard City, Wyoming. The old Victorian-style mansion looked fresh in every detail, although buildings around it appeared a little shabby.

      As the hearse stopped, the driver climbed out of the following car. Wearing the ASU blue army uniform—dark blue coat and lighter blue slacks with a gold stripe running up the side of them—he stood staring at the nondescript white double doors bearing the discreetly lettered sign Arrivals. His many ribbons gleamed on his chest, and his uniform sported the insignia of the special forces and paratrooper. His upper arm patch ranked him as a sergeant first class; five golden hash marks on the lower sleeve recorded at least fifteen years of service. A brass nameplate identified him as “York.” He stood tall and straight, every line of him like a fresh crease.

      Then he settled his green beret on his head, squaring it exactly from long experience. The driver exited the hearse and went to knock on the door. Sgt. York had brought home the body of his best buddy, Al Baker, and he intended to ensure that everything was done right.

      The funeral director was waiting. Gil York watched as the flag-draped coffin was rolled indoors on a table, then followed when it was moved to a viewing room and placed on a blue-skirted catafalque. There would be no open coffin. If anyone in the family wanted to see, Gil would prevent it. Some things should not be seen.

      “I’ll