Coming Home to the Mountains 1-3

COMING HOME TO THE MOUNTAINS 1-3 FRANKIE LOVE CONTENTS Copyright Rough & Tumble 1. Bartlett 2. Abby 3. Bartlett 4. Abby 5. Bartlett 6. Abby 7. Bartlett 8. Abby 9. Bartlett 10. Abby 11. Bartlett 12. Abby 13. Bartlett 14. Abby Epilogue Rough Deal 1. Rye 2. Prairie 3. Rye 4. Prairie 5. Rye 6. Prairie 7. Rye 8. Prairie 9. Rye 10. Prairie 11. Rye 12. Prairie 13. Rye 14. Prairie Epilogue Rough Waters About 1. Lemon 2. Anchor 3. Lemon 4. Anchor 5. Lemon 6. Anchor 7. Lemon 8. Anchor 9. Lemon 10. Anchor 11. Lemon 12. Anchor 13. Lemon Epilogue More from Home, WA About the Author COPYRIGHT Edited by Happily Ever Author Proofread by Norma’s Nook Proofreading Cover Design by Cormar Covers Map Illustration by Joel Kimmel Map Typography by Andre Mora Copyright © and 2022 by Frankie Love All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Click HERE to grab a free steamy read from Frankie Love! ROUGH & TUMBLE COMING HOME TO THE MOUNTAIN 1 BARTLETT I fell in love once, and it was with a girl named Plum. When I met her for the first time, it was the head-over-heels, dumbstruck, can’t think of what to say kind of smitten. She was 6 pounds, 4 ounces, surrounded by every living member of the Rough family, and there wasn’t a dry eye in that hospital room. Now, at five years old, my niece Plum is the center of my family. As she bounds into my hardware store, Hammer Home, the bells on the front door ring and a smile spreads across my face. I may try to play the part of a grumpy mountain man, but when that sweet pea comes to my register, looking for a lollipop, I melt. “Uncle Bart, can I have a cherry one, pretty please?” she asks, her dark brown hair in pigtails to her waist, freckles across the bridge of her nose. She isn’t wearing her winter coat and it’s thirty degrees out. “Who’s supposed to be watching you right now?” I ask, thinking they’re doing a piss-poor job at it as I hand her the requested sucker from the jar next to my register. “Auntie Lemon, but she’s on the phone with a client and so I snuck out.” “She’s gonna be sour when she finds you missing, you know that, right?” I ask. My younger sister Lemon works above me in the main offices of our family’s construction company, Rough House. “Plum?” Lemon yanks open the front doors and calls for our niece, holding a child-size winter coat in hand. “Plum, I swear if you’ve–” “She’s right here,” I say as Lemon walks toward us, hands on her hips. She’s two years younger than me, but way more tightly wound. “Oops,” I whisper to Plum. “You’re busted.” “If you catch a cold before Grandma’s Sunday dinner, I’ll be the one who’s blamed. You need to wear a coat. Not to mention you can’t run out on me! It’s dangerous to leave without an adult.” Even Plum seems to know this is a bit of a stretch. The three of us turn to look out the big shop window, taking in the quiet view. Hammer Home is nestled on Cozy Court, and there is virtually no crime in this town. There’s a reason locals stay forever. But as we look out the window at the picturesque street with the winter flower boxes filled, the bakery across the street with customers milling about, and families out doing weekend errands, I notice one thing out of place. “Do you know whose dog that is?” I ask as a mangy mutt walks into a metal trash can, then a moment later, into a lamp post. “Never seen it before,” Lemon says, frowning. I’ve already moved to the front door and opened it, concerned. The poor dog is clearly confused. As I cross the street, I wave to Nancy, who owns Home for Christmas, the holiday decor shop across the street. “Have you seen this dog’s owner?” I ask her. She shakes her head. “No, but I came out here because I was worried it would wander into the road.” I kneel down, Plum and Lemon at my side, and take a closer look at the pup. It is a small white dog with a black patch over its left eye. But both eyes are clouded over. “I think this mutt is blind,” I say as he begins licking the back of my hand. “Sure is friendly though.” “And cute!” Plum says. The dog is wearing a leather collar and it has a bronze tag attached. “Hijinx,” I read aloud. “Blind and Beloved.” “Does it list a phone number?” Lemon asks. “Yep.” I scoop up the pup and carry him across the street to the hardware store. On a mission, Lemon and Plum find a bag of dog food, treats, and bowls for Hijinx as I call the number on his collar. “No answer and it says the voicemail box is full,” I say. “Well, that’s a bummer.” “The owner must be close by,” Lemon says. “Call Graham at the police station and tell him you found a dog in case anyone calls looking for one.” “Shouldn’t you be the one calling the station? Derek works there too,” I joke, remembering how the local officer had a crush on my sister in high school. Our brother Graham is a cop, and I can call him directly, but I can’t help giving my sister a hard time any chance I get. “You want to go there?” Lemon’s eyes light up. She loves nothing more than to bother me about my lack of a love life. “I heard Claudine and Tabitha over at the hair salon gossiping