PROLOGUE
THREE YEARS EARLIER
Max Kincaid should have trustedhis instincts.
The thought pressed at the back of his mind in a way he couldn’t explain or shake.
His boss, Richard Harding, had stopped Max outside his residence at Refuge Cove just as Max had been about to head inside to fix a leaky sink. “Listen, before you do anything else, I need you to run into Staunton. I need some lumber cut.”
Max had paused, wrench in hand. “I’ve got a full to-do list from Mrs. Harding today. I still need to?—”
“It won’t take long.” Richard didn’t leave any room for argument. “The order is too large for the hardware store here in town.”
Max frowned as he remembered the tasks already waiting. “You need that today? I promised your wife?—”
“Sarah will understand.” Richard’s tone hardened. “The wood is for the new chicken coop she wants. Besides, do I need to remind you who signs your paycheck?”
No, he didn’t. Max got the message loud and clear.
But his loyalty had always been to Sarah. She’d hired him and had become like a sister.
Max worried about her. He worried about the way Richard treated her.
He liked to stay nearby. Because one day Richard would cross a line—and Max needed to be there when he did.
He glanced at the house and remembered the assurance he’d given Sarah this morning that he’d take care of the sink. He liked keeping his word.
But Richard wasn’t going to go for it.
He pulled his gaze from the house and back to Richard. “Should I ask Mrs. Harding if she needs anything while I’m in Staunton?”
The drive was about an hour, and some things you couldn’t get in Blue Ridge Hollow. Drives beyond the town limit usually involved combined errands to make the most of the trip.
“No, she should be fine. Besides, she’s busy doing some paperwork. There’s no need to disturb her.” His words sounded crisp, just as they always did.
Richard Harding liked to get what he wanted. He looked the part of being affluent, with his slick blond hair, tanned skin, and gym-perfected physique.
He had money, and he liked people to know it.
“Got it.” Max knew better than to argue.
But he couldn’t stand Richard. The only reason he continued to work as groundskeeper and maintenance man here at Refuge Cove was because of Sarah. She’d seen something in Max that no one else had. At the lowest point of his life, she’d offered him the job, and for that he’d always be grateful.
It wasn’t his right to be her guardian. But he felt protective toward her anyway.
He had to be careful, however. The last thing he needed was for Richard to think Max’s protectiveness was something more—something romantic. It wasn’t.
It was simply one fellow human looking out for another. Max would never pursue a married woman. In fact, he was quite content being single. Life was easier without any attachments.
The drive to Staunton took longer than it should have. Traffic seemed to crawl, and when Max finally reached the lumberyard, a line had already formed. Then the boards had to be pulled from the back and cut.
By the time Max loaded the wood into his truck and headed back, his earlier unease had turned into something heavier. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was. But before he’d left on his errand . . . it had almost seemed as if Richard didn’t want Max to go inside.
Why would that be?
Max was in and out of the house at Refuge Cove all the time. He even had his own key.
Had Richard sent him away for a reason?
