Under a Firefly Moon Read online

  THE ONE WHO GOT AWAY

  “Tory,” Chey said, her voice low and as threatening as it had ever been in her life. “You did not—” She could barely get the words out. “Tell me you did not—”

  “She did.” And if that voice didn’t set Chey so far back on her heels that it almost planted her ass-first on the packed dirt, one look at Wyatt Reed as he stepped into the stables—her stables—sure as hell did.

  “Hey, Cheyenne,” he said, as if an entire lifetime of anger, pain, longing, friendship, and regret hadn’t filled her every waking moment since he’d walked out of her life so very many years ago. He held her gaze directly, and she owed him a direct one in return. She owed him so much more than that. But meeting his eyes was a start. And it took everything she had to manage even that much.

  He didn’t look angry, or mad, or sad, or . . . anything, really.

  What he did look was good. So incredibly, terrifyingly damn good.

  Also by Bestselling Author Donna Kauffman

  The Blue Hollow Falls Series

  BLUE HOLLOW FALLS

  THE INN AT BLUE HOLLOW FALLS (eBook novella)

  BLUESTONE & VINE

  “Christmas in Blue Hollow Falls” in A SEASON TO CELEBRATE

  LAVENDER BLUE

  LAVENDER & MISTLETOE (eBook novella)

  The Brides of Blueberry Cove Series

  SEA GLASS SUNRISE

  SNOWFLAKE BAY

  STARFISH MOON

  The Bachelors of Blueberry Cove Series

  PELICAN POINT

  HALF MOON HARBOR

  SANDPIPER ISLAND

  The Cupcake Club Series

  SUGAR RUSH

  SWEET STUFF

  BABYCAKES

  HONEY PIE

  The Hot Scot Trilogy

  SOME LIKE IT SCOT

  OFF KILTER

  “Santa in a Kilt” (eBook novella)

  The Hamilton Series

  “Unleashed” in TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT

  “Lock, Stock and Jingle Bells” in KISSING SANTA CLAUS

  “Naughty But Nice” in THE NAUGHTY LIST

  The Unholy Trinity Series

  THE BLACK SHEEP & THE PRINCESS

  THE BLACK SHEEP & THE HIDDEN BEAUTY

  THE BLACK SHEEP & THE ENGLISH ROSE

  The Chisholm Brothers Series

  BAD BOYS IN KILTS

  THE GREAT SCOT

  The Men of Rogues Hollow Series

  “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” in JINGLE BELL ROCK

  “Exposed” in BAD BOYS, NEXT EXIT

  CATCH ME IF YOU CAN

  “Making Waves” in MERRY CHRISTMAS, BABY

  Stand-Alone Titles

  THE SUGAR COOKIE SWEETHEART SWAP

  HERE COMES TROUBLE

  A GREAT KISSER

  LET ME IN

  BAD BOYS ON BOARD

  I LOVE BAD BOYS

  “Sweet Magic” in THE BAKESHOP AT PUMPKIN AND SPICE

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  Under a Firefly Moon

  DONNA KAUFFMAN

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  THE ONE WHO GOT AWAY

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  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

  Epilogue

  Teaser chapter

  Teaser chapter

  About the Author

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2020 by Donna Kauffman

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

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4201-4933-3

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4201-4934-0 (eBook)

  ISBN-10: 1-4201-4934-2 (eBook)

  To John

  For being my drop-everything guy

  Chapter One

  “You’re breaking my heart, Buttercup.” Cheyenne McCafferty buried her nose in the gelding’s mane and smiled when she heard him snuffle, even as she tried to blink away the moisture that continued to gather at the corners of her eyes. “Yeah, well, you might think the name is an indignity, big guy.” She straightened and rubbed her palm gently over the horse’s cheek, looking him straight in his weary, lackluster eyes. “But we both know it’s perfect for you.”

  His ears flicked forward and Chey had zero doubt that this horse knew exactly who she was, despite the more than decade-long gap since she’d last seen him. Her heart squeezed in a painful knot as she tried, and failed, not to remember, with crystal clarity, the circumstances surrounding that last time.

  “Well, I don’t know what son-of-a-bitch let you get in such deplorable condition,” she murmured, working to keep her voice smooth, calm, and the anger tamped down deep. “Although I have my suspicions. Don’t you worry, though. Thanks to Tory, you’re going to be fine now. And for all the rest of your days, too. I’m going to see to that.” She laughed and sniffled at the same time when Buttercup nodded and snorted. “Exactly. I’m only sorry I didn’t find out sooner.” She rubbed his neck. “So sorry,” she added in a whisper.

  Chey didn’t want to think about the reasons why she hadn’t known anything about Buttercup’s life once he and his first owner had left the rodeo circuit all those years ago. She’d eventually left it, too, gone her own way. She didn’t want to think about the reason for that, either.

  “You two getting reacquainted, I see.”

  Chey dashed at the dampness on her cheeks, unconcerned by the streaks of dirt her gloves left behind. She plopped her cowboy hat on her head, pulled the brim down, but kept her palm on Buttercup’s neck as she turned. She wanted the horse to know she wasn’t leaving. Not now, not ever again. A sincere smile on her face, she turned to look at her dear friend. “We most definitely are. Thank you,” she said, those two words never more heartfelt. “For letting me know. I realize I keep saying I’ll do better about staying in touch—”

  Tory just laughed outright at that, and Chey knew she deserved it.

  “As I may have mentioned in my previous, oh, four thousand e-mails and letters, there are these marvelous inventions you Yanks call cell phones for folks who hate to write,” Tory teased, her British accent always a bit crisper when she was giving Chey a hard time. So, pretty much
always. “You don’t even have to actually talk to people, either. You can send these wondrous things called text messages.”

  “I’ve heard about people like you.” Chey pretended to grumble, then chuckled along with her.

  “I have to say, I was really surprised to hear about your new venture,” Tory said. “You said you were working on a farm now but neglected to mention the part about owning it. And that it’s a lavender farm, not a horse farm.”

  “Part horse farm,” Chey corrected. “My part anyway. I didn’t tell you about the lavender?”

  “I believe I’d have remembered that bit.”

  “I could have sworn—anyway, I’m only part owner. I’m working with rescues, giving lessons, doing some training.” She shrugged. “Pretty much the same thing I’ve been doing since I left the circuit.”

  Tory folded her arms and tilted her head to the side, her expression telling Chey she wasn’t buying it. “You mean other than launching a lavender farm complete with pick-your-own lavender, a tearoom with a wonderfully diverse menu, offering classes in making your own lavender products, which you all also sell in your adorable little gift shop.” At Chey’s lifted brows, Tory’s smile merely curved a bit deeper. “They also have these incredible new things called Web sites. You do know your farm has one?”

  “Not my wheelhouse,” Chey said wryly. “My guess is my partners had something to do with that.”

  “Have you even seen it?” Tory deadpanned.

  “Why would I? I live on it.”

  Tory laughed, her expression making it clear she thought Chey was a hopeless case where modern communication was involved. She wouldn’t be wrong. “Well, I might have drooled a wee bit whilst scrolling through it. It looks like a slice of mountain heaven.”

  Chey’s smile warmed at the thought of home, and she felt her heart fill, just as it did every time she thought of her new place in this world. She missed Blue Hollow Falls. Even being away for just a few days. More than she’d thought she would. Which was saying a lot for a former vagabond. “I like it.”

  Tory merely shook her head, her smile rueful. She was the effusive one, not remotely staid or stuffy as one would assume based on the accent. Chey was more of the observational type, not into big displays or chatty exhortations. Not that she was shy. Far from. She simply didn’t feel the need to fill up the space around her with words. She spoke when she needed to, said what she wanted to say. No less, but no more.

  “Well, it looks like a wondrous new life adventure to me,” Tory said. “And it looks good on you,” she added, giving her oldest friend a once-over. “I’m happy for you, Chey. I know it hasn’t been easy.”

  Chey nodded and was relieved when Tory didn’t go any further. They both knew why Chey had left the circuit, left that life behind. It didn’t need to be dragged out into the open and examined all over again. Chey had made her peace with her older brother’s passing. Owning and running a lavender farm in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, far away from the life she and Tory had led out west, was part of that process.

  Chey suspected Tory had figured that out, too, and remembered again why they’d become so close when they’d been kids on the rodeo circuit together. Tory was a champion barrel racer, as was Chey, or they both had been, back in the day. Where Chey was the assertive, in-your-face kind of competitor, Tory had been the darling of the circuit. Pretty, always cheerful, a friend to everyone . . . and a dogged competitor in the ring. Pretty determined outside it, too, as Chey had come to know all too well.

  Even as a kid, when Victoria Fuller decided a person was worthy of her friendship, she went about making it happen, and then she stuck by them, through thick and thin. Through years of not exactly being the best pal in return, too, Chey’s inner voice nudged. Of course, Chey hadn’t asked for that friendship then or now. In fact, she’d actively done everything she could to shake the vivacious youngster who’d joined the circuit at age seven when she’d come to the States to live with the American side of her family, all of whom rode the circuit as well. Tory had been to-the-saddle-born in Sussex, England, but had taken to the western style of riding like a fish to a pond and immediately threatened Chey’s title of reigning champion.

  Tory had beaten her plenty inside the ring, but outside it, she’d been even more determined, pushing her way past every wall Chey could put up between them. And Chey had been a champion at that, too. Eventually it had just been easier to give in and let Tory have her way. A pattern that had continued ever since. Chey smiled to herself, knowing she was more grateful for her friend’s persistence than Tory could possibly know. Then, and now.

  When Chey’s older brother Cody had been killed during a bull-riding competition, Tory had been the only one capable of shoving her way through Chey’s fierce bluster and anger, pushing her to let the pain of her brother’s death in, so she could then let the grief out. Not that Chey had been all that thankful at the time, and she’d let Tory know as much. What Tory didn’t know, couldn’t possibly know, was just how much her persistence and mere presence had meant to Chey. She owed her dear friend more than she could ever repay. Which was why she’d pretty much rearranged her entire life and that of a few others so she could drop everything and drive all the way across the country when Tory had called and told her about finding Buttercup on the auction block.

  Chey accepted the little stab of guilt for letting the ball drop more often than not, when it came to maintaining contact. Tory wasn’t just her closest friend from those days, but the only person Chey had stayed tethered to from her former life. She tried like hell to ignore the even bigger stab of guilt as she leaned in close to Buttercup. Tory wasn’t the only one Chey hadn’t kept in regular touch with over the years.

  “Living in the Blue Ridge must be quite wonderful,” Tory said wistfully. “I’ve only been out there once, to a show in Asheville, North Carolina. Simply gorgeous.”

  Chey laughed and swept her arm wide. “Seriously? You live in Sedona. Possibly one of the most breathtakingly beautiful places I’ve ever seen. I would never tire of this view.” The red rock mesas and jutting buttes, their striated lines showing the layers of the earth that had formed them, stretched out as far as the eye could see. All outlined by a cloudless sky of such rich blue, the stunning contrast rushed into her soul with a wave of awe and appreciation for what nature was capable of producing. The view was that profound.

  “It certainly puts things in perspective,” Tory agreed, slowly inhaling as she scanned the breathtaking vista beyond the paddock and stables, then letting her breath out in a longer sigh as she shook her head. “But an eye candy view isn’t everything.”

  “It’s certainly a good place to start.”

  Tory shared Chey’s smile, nodding in agreement, but Chey hadn’t missed that brief moment, that flicker in her friend’s big blue eyes. Though they kept in touch, or Tory did, at any rate, it had been years since they’d laid eyes on one another. Some things were timeless, however, and reading Tory’s every emotion as it played across her pretty face was one of them.

  “What’s going on, Victor?” Chey asked, kindly but directly, using the nickname she’d given her friend the first time Tory had stolen Chey’s title. “Trouble in this desert paradise? You said you weren’t able to keep Buttercup here, which was why you contacted me.” Chey gestured to the expansive and beautifully maintained stables they were standing in. “I’m forever grateful you did, but it doesn’t look like there’s an issue here with room. Are they working you too hard? Want too much board for him? I know you’ve had nothing but kind things to say about your employers, but—” She broke off, thinking maybe it wasn’t her place to push. Not that such qualms had ever stopped her before. Or Tory, for that matter.

  Tory looked as if she was going to shrug off the question, but at the last second, she caught Chey’s eye, and their gazes held. Tory lifted a shoulder and let it drop in a helpless sort of half shrug. “The Parmenters—the owners, my bosses—are going to sell this place and move t
o northern California to help out with their grandchildren. They’re selling the house, the stables, the land. All of it.” Her expression turned a bit bleak. “To developers who plan to turn the place into a sea of desert condos. Even if I was able to buy it, which I’m not, I couldn’t compete with that.”

  Chey’s expression fell. “Oh no. I’m so sorry. I know how much you’ve loved working for them.” Chey might not have been good at keeping in touch, but Tory had. Chey knew what was going on in her friend’s life, even if she’d generally only given a cursory overview of her own. Tory hadn’t told her this, though. “I can’t imagine they’ll give you anything other than the most glowing reference, and you have so many contacts built up.” Chey smiled. “Your e-mail and letter-writing skills must have held you in good stead where that’s concerned.”

  Tory let out a somewhat watery laugh at that, then wiped the back of her hand over her cheek. “They’ve already offered to do whatever they can. They are lovely, with huge hearts, and I don’t fault them for wanting to go be with family.” She looked up and down the wide aisle and the row of roomy stalls that lined both sides. “One winning lottery ticket and I’d shut that developer out in a blink.” She chuckled and let out a shaky sigh, all at the same time.

  “You’d hate running this whole place,” Chey said dryly. The stables were just a sliver of the property Tory’s bosses owned.

  Tory wiggled her eyebrows. “If the win was big enough, I’d hire a majordomo for that.”

  “Ah. Solid business plan then.”

  Tory nodded and brushed at her sleeves, as if duly accepting her friend’s trite apology. “Have a little faith.”

  They both laughed then, but it didn’t diminish the sadness Chey saw in Tory’s eyes. Or the weariness. Chey knew what that felt like, to have to pick up and move. Again, and then again. No matter how long the interval, or how often you did it, the process never got easier. Chey also knew that when she’d moved to Blue Hollow Falls and helped to launch Lavender Blue, she’d found her forever home. She’d been tired of traveling, tired of picking up and moving. Losing Cody had been a large part of that. Her joy was gone. Chey had long since accepted that her heart was no longer in competing. It had taken a bit longer to admit she was also tired of traveling, but she didn’t know any other way of life. It had been time to find something stable, permanent. Maybe Tory was feeling the same way, and the idea of packing up and moving again was one time too many.