Stacey Joy Netzel Boxed Set Read Free

prospects on the horizon, hope remained
of finding a connection to last a lifetime.
    She swung around and walked backward,
letting her gaze wander over the rows of headstones. Even with the
beautiful Rocky Mountains highlighted by the setting sun, the
imposing oak drew her eye like a magnet.
    There in the shadows, the dark figure of a
man stood beside the black tombstone.
    Her heart stopped, her breath caught. As her
pulse thundered in her ears, she stared until he started to move
forward. Toward her.
    “Oh, God,” she whispered. Backing up, she
swallowed hard and finally blinked.
    The figure disappeared.
    Melanie froze. Blinked again. Still
gone.
    She didn’t waste a single second more
waiting for whatever she’d seen to reappear. Thankful she’d changed
into tennis shoes for the tour, she bolted for home as if she’d
just seen a ghost.
     
    ****
     
    He stood in the shadows, watching the young
woman run through the gates without looking back. Almost as if
she’d seen something that had frightened her.
    His eyes narrowed in consideration of the
idea spinning in his head. The notion was almost unthinkable. They
were in a cemetery, at dusk, with plenty of shadows and looming
headstones that could’ve spooked her—given her the “willies” , as she’d said earlier.
    And yet, that simple, believable, likely
explanation could not quell the single thought making his heart
race.
    Could she have seen him?
    Her earlier startled reaction confirmed
she’d heard his irate exclamation. When he’d been listening to the
speculation and lies for what felt like the thousandth time and
vented his age-old frustration that no one had seen the truth.
    Given that she’d heard his words, was sight
really so inconceivable?
    She had been on the right track back there.
If she continued to voice contrary questions the answers would lead
her down a path of discovery he had only hoped would some day be
revealed. And if she could hear him, if she could see him...
    Ashes of long dead hope stirred, whirling
into a driving force of energy to follow the pretty redhead. But by
the time he reached the gates, she had disappeared into the night
as if she had never existed.
     
     

Chapter Two
     
    That night, a handsome man, his dark horse,
gunshots and a raging river plagued Melanie’s dreams. Little
snippets of events and emotions. A husky voice. Dark eyes. Cold
water. Muddy riverbank.
    Anger.
    Desperation.
    Pain.
    The emotions were especially vivid. Her only
confirmation the dark dreams weren’t real was the sight of her
cream-colored walls and sage green curtains when she blinked awake
on Saturday morning.
    She stumbled out of bed completely
exhausted. Yet after her first cup of tea, an energy she definitely
did not contribute to the limited caffeine pulsed through her
veins. It got her through cleaning the cute little cottage she’d
purchased a month ago, and washing a few loads of laundry.
    Still restless, she moved on to weeding her
two small flower gardens in the backyard and then sat at her
rummage sale cafe table out on the patio with her briefcase.
    An hour later, after rereading the paper in
her hand and still not sure what it said, she admitted defeat.
Nothing took her mind off yesterday’s cemetery tour or the contrary
thoughts of Andrew Lindeman. And erasing the memory of that
shadow-figure next to his tombstone proved impossible.
    Seeing as her current attempts to review her
current court case were proving a complete waste of time, she went
inside to put on her tennis shoes. It was her first weekend off
since starting her new job here in Colorado and high time she had
some fun exploring the town her grandmother had relished speaking
of. It still made no sense Andrew Lindeman’s story hadn’t been
passed down through the generations, but with Grandma having passed
on more than five years now, she’d never know that answer.
    She started with the trail next to the river
behind her cottage. The walk along the South Platte River