Home Free

His first taste of freedom was only the beginning...

Arch Hoffman has paid for his crimes. All he wants is to come home to rural California and start over. He’s not looking to be a hero when he rescues a wedding cake from hitting the dirt at the ranch next door. But culinary artist Mandy Allen’s irresistible smile makes him glad to save the day—and thankful that they’re neighbors.

Mandy’s just the distraction Arch needs. Her sweet voice quiets the memories that threaten his chance to be a better man, and he’s determined to help her confront her fears. But the past is its own prison, and even love might not be enough to set them free.

“Arch, wait!”

He turned, surprised, and saw Mandy hurrying after him. In her hand was a plate filled with an enormous slice of cake. He started back toward her, admiring how elegant she looked in that wine-colored dress.

“Here.” She held out the plate. “You saved it from falling. You earned a slice.” She was a little out of breath, as if she’d jogged, cake and all, to catch him.

He tried to remember the last time someone had reached out to him like this to show him a kindness. He couldn’t. “You’re a good person.” He blurted it out like an awkward kid. He had no experience with generosity.

“I just made a whole lot of wedding cake.” Her smile was fleeting, but kind.

“Well, this will make the walk home a whole lot better.”

There was silence while they looked at each other. He needed to let her get back to her sister’s wedding. “Nice to meet you, Mandy. Thanks for sticking up for me back there.”

“Of course.” She took a step back and waved. “Welcome home, Arch.”

Dear Reader,

Sometimes the best way to find a story is to ask a simple two-word question. What if? Those two words were how Home Free came to be.

When I first thought about the Sierra Legacy series, I planned just two books—the stories of Nora and Wade Hoffman. But then that tricky what-if question popped into my mind. What if one of the older Hoffman brothers didn’t flee to Mexico after all? What if he made another choice? And most of all, what if he came home again?

I couldn’t resist answering those questions. So now I offer you Arch Hoffman’s story. At first I was nervous to write it. How could I make someone who’d done such terrible things into the hero of a romance novel? But as I got to know Arch, I came to love him, and I hope you do, too. He’s served his time, paid his dues and is ready to start his life again. But he quickly learns that freedom means a lot more than just walking through the prison gates. It’s something he’ll fight for every day.

And the woman who steals his heart? She’s been trapped in a different kind of prison, with thick, stifling walls of loss, fear and doubt. Meeting Arch changes everything. Love changes everything. It might even have the power to set them both free.

Thank you for giving Arch a chance. I hope you enjoy Home Free.

Claire McEwen

PS: If you would like to learn more about organizations that help people adjust to life after prison, please visit the Resources page on my website, clairemcewen.com. I love hearing from readers, so please stop by the Contact page while you’re there if you’d like to connect on social media or via email.

Home Free

Claire McEwen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CLAIRE McEWEN lives by the ocean in Northern California with her husband, son and a scruffy, mischievous terrier, whose unique looks and goofy hijinks provided inspiration for an important character in Return to Marker Ranch. When not dreaming up new stories, Claire can be found digging in her garden with a lot of enthusiasm but, unfortunately, no green thumb. She loves discovering flea-market treasures, walking on the beach, dancing, traveling and reading, of course! Claire enjoys Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and Instagram, and likes musing about writing and all things romantic on her blog, Romance All Around Us. Please visit her website, clairemcewen.com, for more information.

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For anyone who has to overcome the past so they can reach for the future.

And for my sisters.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

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

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

WHEN MANDY ALLEN planned her sister’s perfect wedding, she never imagined crying alone in their ranch house kitchen with only the wedding cake for company. But those were definitely tears sliding down her cheeks. And if they didn’t stop soon, mascara would stripe her face like a zebra’s. Mandy dabbed her eyes with the hem of her apron, appalled by the black smudges. Self-pity never looked good on anyone.

The problem wasn’t the cake. That was her masterpiece, despite the anxiety that had almost kept her from finishing it. Anxiety that crackled and fizzed like a bad-reception radio set to her own personal self-doubt channel, reminding her that she’d never done this kind of baking before. What if it was a disaster? What if it tasted terrible? What if it looked terrible?

But thankfully, her anxiety was unfounded. The cake wasn’t terrible. In fact, it was beautiful. The three tiers, cream colored and painted with chocolate icing, delicately detailed scenes of horses, cattle, even the high Sierra peaks that rose behind their ranch.

The problem wasn’t the wedding, either. The old barn looked magical decorated with garlands and fairy lights. The guests had just finished Mandy’s specially seasoned barbecue with all the fixings. Now they were drinking, dancing, whooping it up.

Nor was the problem seeing her dad for the first time in over a year, with his new wife on his arm, relaxed and happy with his life under the Florida sun.

The problem was that everything around her was changing. Everyone was changing. Everyone except Mandy. She was as stuck as a truck in a high desert wash. Lost. Mired. And she had no idea how to dig herself out and get moving again.

The chime of the hall clock sliced through thoughts as sticky as bread dough. She had to get the cake to the reception. There’d be plenty of time after the guests had gone home to stuff her head in the pity pot.

She picked up the tiny fondant cowboy boots she’d made, pink for Lori and brown for Wade. Placing the boots on top of the cake, she tilted them so they leaned on each other. Perfect, for the perfect couple.

She grabbed her camera and snapped a few pictures. With luck, photos of this cake would convince other couples to hire her to bake their wedding cakes.

And then it hit her. In her stress over the cake, she’d forgotten how big it was. And how heavy. How would she get it to the barn?

Her anxiety switched back on, hissing and popping in waves that rolled right through her stomach. Why had she assembled the cake here? She should have taken it to the reception in separate layers. Why hadn’t she thought this through more carefully?

But the cake was finished, looking elegant on Mama’s old silver tray, so there was no going back. Stop worrying. It’s just a cake. Don’t be scared about carrying a cake.

She yanked off her apron. Smoothed down the skirt of her bridesmaid dress. Slid the tray to the edge of the table.

Nothing on the cake even jiggled. It was rock solid. She lifted the tray and baby stepped to the screen door, pushing it open with her hip. A few more steps and she was through the door and down the porch stairs. The hard part was done.

Mandy started down the packed-dirt road that led to the barn. No problem. Like walking on a sidewalk. She imagined Lori’s face when she saw the cake. Her wedding-day smile would grow even bigger.

The sharp snick of breaking branches froze Mandy’s limbs. It seemed to come from a thicket of scrubby willows about fifty yards ahead of her. A bear? Not today. Not now when she was all alone carrying a massive hunk of sugar, a bear’s favorite treat. The shrub shook, there was a crackling noise, and Mandy’s heart just about stopped when something burst out of the thick tangle.

Not a bear, thank goodness, but a miniature donkey that shook its head and looked around. It was gray and fuzzy and it didn’t belong here. It must be another stray. People were always dumping their unwanted animals on her doorstep. Her heart kicked up a beat.

The donkey spotted her, long ears flicking forward. Mandy made her voice as stern as she could. “Shoo!”

It obviously didn’t know the meaning of the word, because it broke into a toy-pony gallop, heading straight toward her. It looked so happy, but Mandy’s heart shifted into overdrive. “Shoo!”

The donkey sped up. Mandy swiftly stepped back and to the side of the lane, lifting the tray chest-high. It would be okay. The donkey was going to miss her...

But the donkey slammed against her hip as it careened by, spinning Mandy around in a staggering circle. She clutched the tray in desperation as it tilted and teetered.

“Hang on!” A man’s voice broke through her grasping panic. She caught a glimpse of him, sprinting from the direction of the house. In a split second he was there, reaching to catch her fall.

“Not me!” she managed. “The cake!”

Hands shot out. “Let go! I’ve got it!”

She opened her fingers and surrendered to fate and gravity, pitching backward, landing hard, butt, shoulders, head, all hitting the dirt before she rolled once. Stomach to the ground, cheek in the dust, she stared one-eyed at the grass by the lane and the bright October sky beyond. Ouch.

“Are you all right?”

The urgency in the man’s voice had her automatically reassuring him. “I’m okay. Scraped, but okay.” Then her mind lurched from survival to reality. The man. The cake. Oh, God, the cake! She closed her eyes, afraid to look. Her sister’s wedding cake. Smashed in the dirt.

“Your cake is okay, too.”

His words were small pieces of a miracle. How was it even possible? Mandy pushed herself up to sitting, every part of her stiff, shaky and stinging.

The dark-haired man was on one knee, as if he was about to propose. And in his arms, perfectly upright, perfectly intact, was her perfect cake.

Mandy stared at him, wondering if she’d fallen right into some kind of fairy tale. Because only in stories did someone this handsome show up out of nowhere and save the day. He even had the wavy black hair of a fairy-tale prince.

Holy cow, she was staring at him like a possum at a flashlight. She scrambled to her feet, brushing at her hands and elbows, trying to ignore all the throbbing and stinging. “Thank you!” Her throat was pebbled with gratitude, tumbling the words out ragged as she leaned over and lifted the tray from his outstretched hands. “I can’t believe you saved it!”

“My pleasure.” He rose from the dirt. And rose. And rose. There had to be over six feet of him.

“It was a really good catch.” She sounded like a kid meeting a sports hero, all awestruck. But he was overwhelming. Each piece of him, from his height to the sharp cheekbones that slashed across his angular face, was larger than average. He was hard to take in all at once. And he’d saved her cake.

He looked down at her, eyes shadowed under dark brows. His voice was low pitched, the gentle edge a surprise in such a big man. “That was quite a fall. Are you hurt?”

“I expect so.” She knew so, but there was no time to deal with it now. She’d break out the first aid kit once she got the cake to the reception.

“Your arm is bleeding.” He fished in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled napkin. There was a fast-food logo on it. “Why don’t you let me hold the cake for a minute?”

She hesitated. “You’ll be careful, right?”

“Very.” He set the napkin on the edge of the tray. Then he took the cake from her easily, as if it weighed nothing.

Mandy picked up the napkin and pressed it to her elbow, surprised when blood bloomed through it. “I’m a mess.”

“You’re messy. That’s different.” His slight smile was kind. “There’s dust on your dress, near the hem. Can you brush it off? And you’ve got some grass in your hair, too.”

She threaded fingers through her hair and found the dry blades. “Ugh. This isn’t what I had in mind when I planned this wedding.”

“You’re a wedding planner?”

Mandy bit back a laugh, remembering the stress of the past weeks. “Far from it. It’s my sister’s wedding day and I wanted everything to be perfect for her. Left on her own, she would have gotten married on a break between ranch chores.” The last of the adrenaline from her fall drained away, and Mandy’s voice bumped against her throat. “I’m just so grateful you came along.”

“You’re the first person who’s said that to me in a mighty long time.”

Something rough in his voice drew her glance, but he looked away. There was an awkward pause as she tried to figure out the meaning behind his words. She settled for brushing the dust off her dress as best she could. She was a wreck. It didn’t help that she’d been awake most of the past forty-eight hours cooking for the wedding.

“I wouldn’t have dropped it, except that darn donkey...” She looked around. The animal was nowhere to be seen. “There was a donkey...”

“I saw it go by. I think it’s over by the house somewhere.”

So she wasn’t having some kind of stress-induced hallucination. That was good news. “It’s just going to have to stay there, then. I have to get this to the reception.” She realized suddenly that he wasn’t dressed for a wedding. Unless Levi’s and a tight black T-shirt were formal wear for him. “You’re a guest?”

He hesitated. “Actually, I’m not.”

“Oh!” Her brain felt scrambled. Maybe she’d hit her head harder than she realized. “I’m sorry, I assumed... Can I help you with something?”

“To be honest, I didn’t know there was a wedding. I came by because someone in town told me my brother might be here. He’s your neighbor. Wade Hoffman?”

Mandy’s breath caught on the dark lump of dread settling below her sternum. “You’re Wade’s brother?” Wade had two brothers. Both criminals, both on the run.

“My name’s Arch Hoffman. I haven’t been back to Benson for a long time.”

She knew why he hadn’t been around town. If the rumors were true, he’d been hiding out in Mexico with his brother and father to escape criminal charges for theft, drug dealing and God knew what else. Mandy forced her shaking hands to steady. She glanced in the direction of the barn. The music was loud and she was still pretty far away. Would anyone hear her if she screamed for help?

“I guess you’ve heard of me.”

Blast. Her fear must be easy to see. “I have, a bit,” she admitted. She stole a peek at him. He didn’t look like a criminal. But that was how the Hoffman brothers had always worked, wasn’t it? A layer of charm smeared over cunning and crime. Like icing piled up to hide a fallen cake. “Your brother is marrying my sister today.”

He stopped. “You’re kidding. My little brother’s getting married? Today?”

“You didn’t know?”

“I haven’t spoken to my brother in over ten years.”

She couldn’t think how to answer such weighted words. “Well, I guess we should go find him.” Though she didn’t look forward to ruining Wade’s wedding day.

“That would be great. And I’d be happy to carry your cake for you.”

“Thanks.” They walked, Mandy brushing her skirts and trying to rearrange her hair as they went. But as the barn got closer, her worries got bigger. If Arch strolled into the wedding, all Mandy’s attempts to make the celebration perfect would be ruined. Upstaged by the inevitable gossip about Arch’s exploits and wrongs.

“I’ve got lousy timing, huh?” His quiet words echoed her thoughts.

She was suddenly too tired to be kind. “You do.”

“I won’t mess up the party. You can trust me.”

Ha. From all she’d heard over the years, Arch Hoffman was about as trustworthy as a bear in the beehives. She stayed silent, but he seemed intent on making conversation.

“So you made this cake yourself? These pictures on the sides and everything?”

She heard the note of forced cheer in his voice and felt selfish, all of a sudden, for worrying about the wedding. He was estranged from his family. This couldn’t be an easy moment for him.

“Yes.”

“And you’re really gonna let my little brother chop this up? It’s a work of art. Seems like you should put it in some kind of cake museum.”

It was just flattery, but it warmed her anyway. “I don’t think they have those. I did take photos, though.”

“I sure hope so. Are you a baker?”

“I have a small business. Just here on the ranch, using our kitchen. I make pies, muffins, cupcakes, things like that. This is my first wedding cake.”

He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to admire it from the side. “I guarantee that once folks see it, it won’t be your last.”

“That’s what I hope.” Mandy felt the words release into the air like fluttering doves. She’d never said it aloud before. How much she wanted to expand her business. Or go to school. Or apprentice somewhere. To pursue her dreams. But just knowing the words were out had her heart stuttering. Anxiety never stayed away for long.

They were almost to the barn, approaching from the side. Mandy could hear the hum of guests talking and laughing. The DJ was playing that old song “Achy Breaky Heart.” Probably half the crowd was doing the classic line dance.

She wasn’t great at speaking her mind, but if there ever was a time to get over that, it was now. She forced herself to look right at Arch, the heat rising from her cheek in waves so thick it almost clouded her vision. “I don’t think you should come in.”

“You sure about that? Because it would make their wedding day truly memorable. Folks around here would be talking about it for a long time to come.”

Horrified, she almost protested but then saw how his smile tipped down at the corners. “You’re being sarcastic.”

“I may not have spent a minute of my life in good company, but I know enough not to crash my brother’s wedding.”

He was saying exactly what she wanted to hear, but it hurt her heart. What must it be like to know you weren’t welcome at your own brother’s reception? Of course, he’d brought it on himself, but there was something in her that could never stand to leave a fellow creature out in the cold. Which was why she had way too many strays on this ranch, she reminded herself. And she’d be a fool to make Arch Hoffman one of them. “Thank you for helping me carry the cake.” She reached for the tray and took its weight carefully. “What will you do?”

For the first time since he’d shown up like a miracle and caught the cake, he looked uncertain. “I’ll figure something out.”

She knew the stories. She knew he’d committed crimes and raised hell when he lived around here. But he’d helped her beyond measure today. And now he needed help. “Look, Wade and Lori are leaving for their honeymoon right after the reception. They’ll be gone for a few weeks. If you need to speak with your brother, now’s the time.”

Arch looked over her head toward the barn door. “I can’t walk in there.”

“No, you can’t.” She paused, willing her tired brain to think. “Can you wait awhile? Maybe forty-five minutes? Let them cut the cake and have another dance or two. Then I’ll send Wade to talk to you.”

“You don’t have to do that.” But the relief in his eyes said the opposite.

“Of course I do,” she assured him. “It’s the right thing.”

“And you’re someone who does the right thing.”

His words had all the old guilt and regret knotting in her stomach. Tears pricked. Her mom should be here today, seeing Lori marry. Maybe if Mandy had done the right thing all those years ago, that would be possible.

“Whoa.” Arch’s hands took hold of the opposite side of the tray, steadying it. “I said the wrong thing. Damn, I’m sorry, I...” He broke off.

“No, it’s okay.” Damn was right. When would she learn to control the feelings that lived just under her skin?

“Hey, here’s a thought. You deliver this cake and I’ll go look for that mysterious donkey of yours before it causes any more trouble.”

The donkey. She’d forgotten about it. Her worries over the cake and this magnetic man had wiped that responsibility from her memory. “I’d so appreciate that. If you find him, he can go in with the goat. There’s a small paddock behind the other barn, further down this lane.”

“Right.” He squared his shoulders. A task was probably just what he needed right now to get his mind off his troubles. “Hope that goat is ready for a new roommate.”

“She’ll have to make do. She was dropped off here just last week.”

His grin softened all the angles of his face. “You must have a reputation for being a softie.”

Mandy couldn’t help but smile back. “I think you’re right.”

“Why so many strays?”

“It’s getting worse with the drought. Ranches are downsizing. People are losing jobs. I never thought I’d be running an animal shelter.” She felt her smile fade. “It breaks my heart. Especially when a dog shows up. They seem so lost and confused when they’re abandoned.”

“The world could use more people like you. I can see that already.”

Her skin warmed again. She wasn’t used to being noticed. “Thanks. I’d better head into the barn. See you soon?”

“As soon as I find that donkey.” Arch walked away with a lanky stride that covered ground with zero effort. The guy was a giant. And in his faded jeans and that T-shirt, he was gravity for the eyes. Handsome didn’t begin to describe him. But he was also Arch Hoffman.

And he’d just turned back to her. And said something.