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Beyond Baseball : Twisted Roots Book Four
Isabelle Winters' life has flipped upside down, and she finds herself with time to visit her long neglected grandparents. Coming through the last town on her road trip, she can practically taste the homemade lemonade on the welcoming front porch of the old house. Flashing blue lights put the thought on hold. An officer with kind eyes and a quick smile comes to her door and changes her plans. He arrests her for stealing a car she paid for months ago.
Jude McCord doesn't want to be standing out in the west Texas heat passing out tickets any more than pretty Isabelle Winters wants to be pulled over. But when he's recovering from a shoulder injury and can't play baseball, at least he's got a job where he can do something other than push papers. On his off days, he's building a baseball camp at Nanna May's and Pops' ranch.
Too bad the lady he just arrested is the granddaughter that has had nothing to do with them for over a decade. She can take her fancy stolen vehicle back to California, because she's not stealing his dreams.
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Desert Breeze Publishing, Incorporated
August 31, 2011
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from Beyond Baseball by Carie Lawson
"Yes, you had no reason to pull me over in the first place. Who pulls people over for going five over?"
He fired a look at her out of blue eyes. "I clocked you at seven."
"You didn't have to pull me over. I was almost there."
"I'm sorry I was doing my job. Didn't mean to inconvenience you in your stolen vehicle."
"It's not stolen!" Dang it. She didn't mean to yell. She leaned her head back and tried to get a grip on exactly what had happened to the day. The twelve hour trip had been smooth as silk, she was almost there. Had her directions all printed out. That reminded her. She unzipped her purse and pulled out a piece of paper. "I've got the directions right here."
"I know where they live."
Why did he say it as if she should know that?
She put the directions back in her purse. "Do you know where everyone in the city lives?"
"No, and they don't live in the city."
He switched on the radio, apparently tired of talking, and turned down a road that didn't look wide enough for two vehicles, particularly when one was the Behemoth.
She tucked her directions back into her purse. Her eyes scanned the brown landscape around them. It didn't look even a little familiar. The caution ingrained in any urban woman made her wonder if she'd done the right thing in accepting a ride. She hadn't seen another vehicle in miles. What if he wasn't taking her to her grandparent's house? What if he was getting rid of the evidence of false arrest before the lawyers got involved?
She slid her phone out of her purse. Still no bars. Her heartbeat accelerated faster than his truck. A glance out of the corner of her eye confirmed he still looked mad... maybe a little beyond mad. But he had seemed so nice in the beginning... charming even... weren't mass murderers known for their charm?
They weren't going that fast. She might be able to throw herself out of the truck without really getting hurt. Maybe. Maybe not. But he'd catch her for sure in a foot race.
The truck slowed at rusted gate. She expelled the breath in her lungs. It was her grandpa's driveway. She wasn't foolish, she was cautious, smart. But her ears burned with embarrassment. At least she hadn't jumped out of the truck. That would've been hard to explain.
The truck bumped up the driveway. Then it was there. Rustic and weathered and oh, so welcoming. The embarrassment went away, taking with it the fear and anger. She'd made it.
The big plow thing in the back of the house and the pile of dirt beside it was new. "Are they putting in a garden?" She could help. That might be a little much for Nanna and Grandpa to do alone.
McCord looked at her like something funny on the bottom of his shoe. "It's not for a garden." He shouldered his door open. "I'll get the stuff in back. You can get this mess."
She collected the half-empty Coke she'd purchased the last time she'd stopped for gas, the bag of chips, her purse, a little cooler with nothing left in it but water, a grocery sack filled with healthy snacks she'd ignored when the chips called to her from their place next to the station's register. When her hands were full, she carefully climbed out of the not-so-eco-friendly vehicle. It must cost a fortune to fill up.
Officer McCord passed her with a bag in each hand and one tucked under his arm. He strode up the four steps of the front porch and opened the screen door, calling out, "Hey, Pops, Nanna May. Look what the cat dragged in."