Bride Of Dreams

Dear Reader,

Welcome to Mills & Boon American Romance…where each month we offer four wonderful new books bursting with love!

Linda Randall Wisdom kicks off the month with Bride of Dreams, the latest installment in the RETURN TO TYLER series, in which a handsome Native American lawman is undeniably drawn to the pretty and mysterious new waitress in town. Watch for the Tyler series to continue next month in Mills & Boon Historicals. Next, a lovely schoolteacher is in for a big surprise when she wakes up in a hospital with no memory of her past—or how she’d gotten pregnant. Meet the last of the three identical sisters in Muriel Jensen’s WHO’S THE DADDY? series in Father Found.

Bestselling author Judy Christenberry’s Rent a Millionaire Groom launches Mills & Boon American Romance’s new series, 2001 WAYS TO WED, about three best friends searching for Mr. Right who turn to a book guaranteed to help them make it to the altar. IDENTITY SWAP, Charlotte Douglas’s new cross-line series, debuts with Montana Mail-Order Wife. In this exciting story, two women involved in a train accident switch identities and find much more than they bargained for. Follow the series next month in Mills & Boon Intrigue.

Enjoy this month’s offerings, and make sure to return each and every month to Mills & Boon American Romance!

Wishing you happy reading,

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

Mills & Boon American Romance

Bride of Dreams

Linda Randall Wisdom

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

LINDA RANDALL WISDOM is a California author who loves movies, books and animals of all kinds. She also has a great sense of humor, which is reflected in her books.

Books by Linda Randall Wisdom

MILLS & BOON AMERICAN ROMANCE

250—WE GIVE THANKS

284—LADY’S CHOICE

293—APPEARANCES ARE DECEIVING

310—CODE OF SILENCE

325—SINS OF THE PAST

350—A MAN FOR MAGGIE

372—O’MALLEY’S QUEST

382—VOICES IN THE NIGHT

401—FREE SPIRITS

422—SOMETIMES A LADY

443—THIS OLD HOUSE

457—UNDER HIS SPELL

470—A MAN FOR MOM

487—THE COUNTESS AND THE COWBOY

515—NO ROOM AT THE INN

541—VEGAS VOWS

561—HE’S A REBEL

596—COUNTERFEIT HUSBAND

608—MOMMY HEIRESS

627—TWIST OF FATE

641—DO YOU TAKE THIS MAN…

671—NAUGHTY ’N NICE

681—MR. & MRS….& MRS.?

707—BELLS, RINGS & ANGELS’ WINGS

751—SHE’S HAVING HIS BABY

774—THE LAST TWO BACHELORS

831—MY LITTLE ONE

865—BRIDE OF DREAMS

Who’s Who in Tyler

Cooper Night Hawk—His dreams are haunted by a woman some say will be his bride.

Caroline Benning—Falling in love wasn’t in her game plan when she came to Tyler.

Laughing Bear—His Sauk wisdom and the Spirit guides have served him well.

Brady Spencer—He wants the truth about Caroline…no matter what.

Delia Mayhew—A town librarian can tell a lot about people by the books they read.

Anna and Johnny Kelsey—There’s no hanky-panky going on in their boardinghouse!

Brick and Karen Bauer—This cop couple will bring peace back to Tyler, even if they have to handcuff Cooper and Caroline together.

Henry Farris—He has a roving eye for Caroline—even if he is ninety!

Lieutenant Steve Fletcher—His beat is the local lovers’ lane.

Tyler Quilting Circle—Whose wedding quilt are these matchmaking women working on now?

Contents

Prologue

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

Prologue

“I wasn’t ready for you to go just yet, Dad. I wanted you here so you could hold your grandchildren. Remember what you said you wanted to do? You were going to spend all your mornings on the golf course and avoid all those widows trolling for a new husband. The ones you claimed talk endlessly about taking cruises, and want a partner to go with them. Hopefully, you.”

Caroline Bennedict folded the last piece of clothing and carefully placed it in a box. Her movements were economical as she sealed the box with packing tape and marked it for one of the charities.

“I’m only twenty-two years old, Dad. I still need you.” She began clearing off his chest of drawers. She knew if anyone heard her talking out loud to her father, who’d died the month before, they’d think she was losing it. They had no idea that talking to him as if he was still there made the pain more tolerable. Plus she believed, in a sense, he still was with her.

Now she was involved in a task she hadn’t looked forward to but knew needed to be done—packing her father’s personal items. Tears pricked her eyelids as she emptied each drawer, then moved on to the closet.

Caroline frowned when she discovered a large box set back in the far corner of the top shelf. She stood on a chair and carefully maneuvered it forward so she could get a good grip on it. She carried it over to the bed. When she opened the box, the faint scent of Chanel wafted upward. Her dad always said Chanel reminded him of Mom. Caroline’s mother had died having Caroline, so she’d never had a chance to know her, and had to rely on stories from her father. Now she didn’t even have that.

The box held a quilt. She stared at the lively pattern of blue, white and green and gathered up the heavy fabric, allowing it to spill over her lap. She carefully smoothed it across her legs.

“Where did this come from?” she whispered to herself, picking up one corner and examining the tiny stitches.

Even her inexperienced eye could tell the quilt was handmade, put together with a great deal of care and love. She knew right away it wasn’t designed for her father’s navy-and-burgundy bedroom. As she turned the quilt over, additional colors in one of the corners caught her eye.

She pulled it toward her so she could examine it more closely. Her brows knitted in a confused frown as her fingernail traced the names embroidered in one corner of the quilt.

Violet and Elias Spencer

Seth, Brady, Quinn

Violet Spencer? The same Violet Caroline knew of as Violet Bennedict? The woman who’d died seconds after Caroline’s birth?

“Mom?” she whispered. “Who are these men? And what do they have to do with you?”

Chapter One

He couldn’t see her face, but he knew she was beautiful. The mist wrapped around her in the way a lover would protect her from outside forces. Even though her face was shrouded by the mist, he instinctively knew she was looking at him. Her slim figure was garbed in a cotton gown that clung to her form.

The mist swirled around her as she lifted her hand and reached out to him. She didn’t speak a word, but somehow he knew she was beckoning to him. Asking that he take her hand.

He didn’t move from his spot. Somehow he knew that taking her hand and allowing her to lead him into the mist would mean changes to himself and to his life. Changes he wasn’t ready to make. Instead, he stepped back. Once. Twice.

He still couldn’t fully see her face, but he knew she was disappointed.

Oddly enough, so was he.

But not enough to take her hand.

Cooper Night Hawk awoke a good two hours before his alarm was ready to blast him out of bed. Sleep was something he treasured because he knew there was always a chance it would be interrupted.

Tyler might not be the crime capital of the world, but mischief still happened. And some nights he was the one selected to settle it.

He left his bed and headed outside. He filled his lungs with the chilly, clean air in hopes it would clear his head. Cooper settled in one of the chairs by the back door. The wood creaked softly under him as he leaned his head back and looked up at the sky. He liked the idea of counting stars instead of counting sheep.

“You worked so many nights that your body cannot understand why it has to sleep now.”

Cooper cocked a dark eyebrow. “Look who’s talking, old man. You need your rest more than I do.” His voice was filled with gruff affection toward his visitor.

The silver-haired man shook his head, his braids swinging gently. “The time will come soon enough when all I will do is sleep. Until the time comes, I will enjoy what the night has to offer.” Cooper’s grandfather, Laughing Bear, walked slowly over to the chair next to Cooper’s and carefully lowered himself into the seat.

“You’ll still be around telling all the old stories when I’m in my grave,” Cooper argued good-naturedly. “What are you doing up this time of night?”

“The stars are only good when everyone else is asleep,” Laughing Bear informed him in a low, even voice.

Cooper stretched his legs out in front of him, bare feet crossed at the ankle. “How come you’re not sitting by your own house looking at the stars?”

“I do not see them as well up there. That is why I come down here to sit on your porch. The view is nicer down here,” he said calmly. “The Spirits like it better down here, too.”

Cooper shook his head. He knew enough not to voice his disbelief about the Spirits who allegedly accompanied his grandfather wherever he went. Any time he even hinted his doubt of invisible beings, his grandfather would give him that long silent look that spoke volumes. The elderly man never told him how disappointed he was in his grandson’s refusal to accept the legends he grew up with. The sorrow in his eyes was telling enough.

“She is here,” the man said.

Cooper stifled the sigh rising in his throat. Damn him! He wasn’t going to say another word.

No way. No how. This time he wasn’t going to ask. In all the years he and his grandfather had done this form of one-upmanship, the older man always won. Just for once, Cooper wanted to win.

He continued sitting back with his laced fingers resting on his bare abdomen, enjoying the chilly air on his skin. He didn’t have to turn his head to know his grandfather wasn’t looking at him. That was part of the battle of wills that grandfather and grandson had waged over the years.

“She will take a heart while she is here,” Laughing Bear said, breaking the silence once again.

Cooper bit the inside of his cheek. Anything to keep from asking.

He would have been better off talking to one of his grandfather’s spirit friends.

“I can’t imagine she’d want yours. It must be pretty leathery by now,” Cooper said.

Laughing Bear slowly turned to face his grandson. “The heart she takes will be a younger one. A strong heart and more succulent.”

Cooper cocked an eyebrow. “Succulent? Are you reading romance books again, old man?”

Laughing Bear showed no displeasure with Cooper’s irreverent manner of speech. They understood each other only too well. In the beginning, the grandfather had taken care of his orphaned grandson, dealing with his pain and anger at the death of his parents. Now the grandson took care of his grandfather, making sure he saw his doctor on a regular basis and had enough firewood during the winter. With Laughing Bear’s small cabin only a hundred yards away, he was close enough for Cooper to feel as if he could look after him and far enough away so that Laughing Bear could have his privacy and feel a measure of independence. It was a comfortable arrangement for both men.

Every day Cooper saw the stiffness increasing in his grandfather’s body, his eyes dimming with age and his steps growing slower. Cooper didn’t want to think about the day the older man would no longer be here.

“Mrs. Riley brought me one of her peach pies today,” Laughing Bear said.

Not at all what Cooper expected to hear. The faint smile on the older man’s lips told him he knew that.

“Funny. I thought her specialty was blackberry pies.”

“Her blackberry pies are very good, too, but she knows I like her peach pies best.”

Cooper tightened his lips. No sir. Not one word. A declaration that flew right out the window at the prospect of needling his grandfather.

“I heard Mrs. Riley used to put one of those sexual potency drugs in her pies for her husband up until he died,” Cooper said, in the same casual tone his grandfather used. “Some say she’s looking for another husband. I bet the man who shows the most appreciation for her ‘pies’ gets her in the bargain.”

“Mrs. Riley is a nice woman, but she continues to mourn for her husband. She had never allowed his spirit to rest.” Laughing Bear tilted his head back, looking upward. “Another man cannot share a life with her until she decides it is time to let him go.”

Cooper chuckled. “My grandfather, the philosopher.”

“No, a man wanting to stay free.” The older man slowly rose to his feet. “And now a man who is ready to seek his bed.” He shuffled off a few paces before he stopped and turned around. “She will capture your heart, Grandson. It will do you no good to fight the Spirits’ wishes.”

“Are you sure you haven’t been reading vampire stories?” Cooper asked.

Laughing Bear stared at him with dark eyes that may have dimmed over the years but had lost none of their power.

“I wonder what your grandson will say to you when you tell him about the Spirits and their wishes.” Having said his piece, he turned around and slowly walked up the well-worn pathway to his cabin.

“DEPUTY NIGHT HAWK, are you listening to me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said obediently, pen racing across his pad. “You want whoever did this to be charged with vandalism and anything else we can think of.”

As owner of Gates Department store in Tyler, Nora Gates Forrester was used to people deferring to her. That Cooper wasn’t giving her the attention she felt due her left her irritated.

“I’m beginning to think it’s deliberate,” she said angrily. “I’ve even heard that people claim it was Margaret Ingalls. The woman is dead!’

“Yes, ma’am,” he said obediently.

Cooper wished he hadn’t answered the phone this morning. He wasn’t even due to go on duty yet. Then Hedda, one of their dispatchers, had called and asked if he’d stop by Mrs. Forrester’s house on his way into work.

“Mrs. Forrester…” He paused, well aware that whatever he said wouldn’t be welcome. It hadn’t been appreciated the last four times he’d been out here. He stepped carefully through the verbal minefield. “So far we haven’t been able to come up with any tangible clues as to who is destroying your things.”

The scent of Shalimar invaded his nostrils as she leaned closer. “When personal property is deliberately vandalized, you call the police. That is what I have done, and I expect results.”

Cooper mentally vowed to never answer the phone first thing in the morning. At least not before he had his breakfast.

He looked around the neatly kept yard. He knew a neighbor’s teenage son mowed the lawns every other week, and Mrs. Forrester tended her flowers with the same care a mother gave to her child. As he looked around, his gaze swept across the clothesline that occupied a corner of the yard. Underneath, pieces of brightly colored silk and lace dotted the green lawn—victims of the heinous crime.

He took a deep breath. “There have been some complaints about a goat wandering around in this neighborhood. You’ve got that hole in the back part of your fence and maybe the goat got inside the yard. They’re known for eating anything.”

Mrs. Forrester flashed him a look that implied she thought his idea of an underwear-eating goat ranked right up there with idiocy.

“I cannot imagine a goat would wander in here to steal and destroy my clothing,” she insisted.

“I don’t know. My grandmother had a goat who liked to eat dish towels.”

Mrs. Forrester glared at him. “Just find out who did this.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He put away his pad and allowed her to escort him through the house and outside. He climbed into the Blazer and fingered the radio. “Dispatch, this is Cooper,” he announced. “Finished at the Forrester house and rolling out.”

“Is Nora’s complaint of vandalism the same as always?” Hedda, the dispatcher, asked.

“Got it in one.”

“I heard that Margaret Ingalls might have done it. What are you going to do if it does turn out to be Margaret?”

“What do you think? Call Ghostbusters.” He signed off before his laughter joined hers.

He’d driven barely halfway along the street before he was flagged down. He stopped and rolled down his window.

“’Mornin’, Mrs. Gray,” he greeted the woman who’d been his fourth-grade teacher and still kept nine-year-olds in line at the grade school.

“Good morning, Cooper. Tell me, does Nora think Margaret Ingalls is destroying her underwear?” she asked.

“I think she’s starting to think that, ma’am. Do you have anything new that might help the case?” Such as seeing a ghostly Margaret Ingalls slipping into the Forrester yard.

“Nora’s a sensible woman except when it comes to this,” she said bluntly. “If she truly wants to settle this, she should see about holding a séance. If someone can conjure Margaret up, Nora could then tell Margaret to her ghostly face to steal someone else’s underwear.”

Cooper coughed into his curved palm.

Mrs. Gray narrowed her eyes and gave him a look that still froze him down to his toes. “That tactic didn’t work back then, Cooper Night Hawk, and it doesn’t now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said soberly.

Her usually stern features relaxed in a smile. She rested her hand on the windowsill. “Did I ever tell you you grew up just fine?”

“Last week.” His dark eyes twinkled.

She slapped the windowsill with her hand. “Just so you remember. Of course, I knew once you and Freddie Martin stopped hanging around together, you’d do all right.” She stepped back, her own way of saying the conversation was over. “I understand Freddie is up for parole in two years.”

Cooper nodded goodbye and drove on.

He knew becoming a sheriff’s deputy in Tyler, Wisconsin, meant he would be dealing with people he’d known all his life. In a small town it was a given.

There were pluses and minuses in his job. Here, he knew everyone and they knew him. There’d been a time when all he thought about was getting out of Tyler for good. But that was when he was young and stupid. Now he knew this was where he belonged.

Life was predictable here but never boring. He knew many people wouldn’t like predictable, but there were many times when it was pretty nice. Such as now when he was heading for Marge’s Diner for his breakfast of blueberry pancakes with hash browns, sausage, orange juice and plenty of coffee.

No wonder he felt the town of Tyler gave him all the nurturing he needed.

“HEADS UP, DARLIN’.”

Caroline automatically ducked as a heavily laden tray swept over her head. Alice, the other waitress in Marge’s Diner that morning, flashed her an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, sweetie. I had a head of steam going and didn’t want to conk you on the noggin like the last time,” she said over her shoulder as she sailed across the room.

“Thank you. Mashed potatoes weren’t exactly the best conditioner for my hair,” Caroline admitted, swapping the empty coffeepot for a full one.

Breakfast was a busy time in the bustling diner, and coffee was the all-important staple for the hungry diners. She’d barely finished refilling coffee cups before she had to return for another pot.

After almost ten months on the job, she was feeling more confident with her duties as one of the waitresses at Marge’s Diner in Tyler. Everything here was a far cry from her life in Santa Barbara, California.

In Tyler, she didn’t play tennis, laze by the pool or head for the beach with her friends. She wasn’t “Caroline Bennedict” any longer. Now she was Caroline Benning—a stranger who’d driven into town, liked its looks and, since the diner was advertising for a waitress, applied for the job. Luckily, her lack of experience didn’t seem to matter. Marge, the owner, warmly assured her she’d pick it up in no time.

Caroline had lost track of the number of broken dishes and incorrect orders she was responsible for—though she hadn’t forgotten that time she gave Ray Hickman crab cakes instead of the fish sticks he’d ordered. She’d had no idea he was allergic to shellfish.

Caroline knew that in any other restaurant she would be history by now. Luckily, Marge was a great deal more patient with her fledgling waitress than most bosses would be. It didn’t hurt that a majority of the men in town had asked that she be given a second chance. And a third. And a fourth. Caroline was learning that small towns were very much a world unto themselves.

When Caroline had decided to seek out her mother’s other family, she’d had no idea the trail would lead to Wisconsin.

She hadn’t found anything in her father’s papers about the Spencer family’s involvement with her mother. It was pure luck there was a small note with the words Tyler Quilting Circle, Tyler, Wisconsin on the bottom of the box holding the quilt. Caroline hadn’t stopped to think whether it was a good idea to just throw clothes in a few suitcases and take off for Tyler. She’d just done it. So far, she hadn’t regretted her decision.

While she was eager to know her half brothers, she knew she couldn’t just walk up to the Spencer front door and announce she was their half sister. It wasn’t long after her arrival that she learned the Spencer family was well regarded in Tyler. The father and three sons were known as men not to be toyed with. They were wealthy, and she guessed they would naturally be suspicious of anyone suddenly appearing with the claim of being related.

Having grown up in a moneyed community, Caroline understood the caution they would undoubtedly display. She didn’t need to watch the daytime dramas to which Alice was addicted to know she would have to get to know the Spencers first. Especially since she wasn’t sure if Elias Spencer, head of the family, would accept her as his sons’ half sister.

Her first thoughts were to stay in town for a while and see what she could find out about the Spencers. Then perhaps get to know them on a casual basis. She began by renting a room at the Kelsey Boarding House and looking around town for a job. In no time, she had a job where she was guaranteed to meet just about the entire population of Tyler at one time or another.

At first, she’d pretty much kept to herself. Then she’d stupidly tried to see into Elias Spencer’s house and had ended up in the rose bushes, much to her embarrassment. Not something that would happen to the quiet, almost mousy Caroline Benning she’d been portraying. No wonder, since as Caroline Bennedict she’d devoured mystery novels and convinced herself she could do anything those heroines could do. After picking the thorns out of her skin, she’d decided it was time to act more like herself. She’d even dug out her own clothing, and now wore it instead of the drab, nondescript things she’d been wearing.