Sierra McKettrick felt like a fraud. She might be moving to her family’s ancestral ranch with her son, but being a McKettrick by blood wasn’t enough to make her fit in. To make matters worse, from the moment she’d met the Triple M’s ranch hand, he’d gotten under Sierra’s skin. With his rugged body and tender compassion, Travis Reid was a temptation she didn’t need or want. But as Sierra began to form a connection to one of her ancestors, Hannah McKettrick—also a woman with a young son and an inconvenient attraction to the wrong man—Sierra started to realize that there were some bonds that even time couldn’t break. And there were some charmed places where even the loneliest of people could find home…and love. BONUS BOOK INCLUDED IN THIS VOLUME! Montana Royalty by New York Times bestselling author B.J. Daniels. Devlin Barrow would slay any dragon for local Whitehorse, Montana, girl Rory Buchanan. But their relationship was no fairy tale…because Devlin had a secret past that could threaten both their lives. Linda Lael Miller is a #1 New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of more than one hundred novels. Long passionate about the Civil War buff, she has studied the era avidly and has made many visits to Gettysburg, where she has witnessed reenactments of the legendary clash between North and South. Linda explores that turbulent time in The Yankee Widow. New York Times and USA Today bestselling author B.J. Daniels lives in Montana with her husband, Parker, and one springer spaniel named Dot. When not writing, she quilts, boats and always has a book or two to read. Contact her at www.bjdaniels.com , on Facebook at B.J. Daniels or through her reader group the B.J. Daniels' Big Sky Darlings, and on twitter at bjdanielsauthor. "Stay in the car," Sierra McKettrick told her seven-year-old son, Liam. He fixed her with an owlish gaze, peering through the lenses of his horn-rimmed glasses. "I want to see the graves, too," he told her, and put a mittened hand to the passenger-side door handle to make his point. "Another time," she answered firmly. Part of her knew it was irrational to think a visit to the cemetery could provoke an asthma attack, but when it came to Liam's health, she was taking no chances. A brief stare-down ensued, and Sierra prevailed, but barely. "It's not fair," Liam said, yet he sounded resigned. He didn't normally give up so easily, but they'd just driven almost nonstop all the way from Florida to northern Arizona, and he was tired. "Welcome to the real world," Sierra replied. She set the emergency brake, left the engine running with the heat on High, and got out of the ancient station wagon she'd bought on credit years before. Standing ankle-deep in a patch of ragged snow, she took in her surroundings. Ordinary people were buried in churchyards and public cemeteries when they died, she reflected, feeling peevish. The McKettricks were a law unto themselves, living or dead. They weren't content with a mere plot, like other families. Oh, no. They had to have a place all their own, with a view. And what a view it was. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her cloth coat, which was nearly as decrepit as her car, Sierra turned to survey the Triple M Ranch, sprawling in every direction, well beyond the range of her vision. Red mesas and buttes, draped in a fine lacing of snow. Copses of majestic white oaks, growing at intervals along a wide and shining stream. Expanses of pastureland, and even the occasional cactus, a stranger to the high country, a misplaced wayfarer, there by mistake. Like her. A flash of resentment rose suddenly within Sierra, and a moment or two passed before she recognized the emotion for what it was: not her own opinion, but that of her late father, Hank Breslin. When it came to the McKettricks, Sierra had no opinions that she could honestly claim, because she didn't know these people, except by reputation. She'd taken their name for one reason and one reason only—because that was part of the deal. Liam needed health care, and she couldn't provide it. Eve McKettrick—Sierra's biological mother—had set up a medical trust fund for her grandson, but there were strings attached. With the McKettricks, she heard her father say, as surely as if he were standing there beside her, there are always strings attached. "Be quiet," Sierra said, out loud. She was grateful for Eve's help, and if she had to take the McKettrick name and live on the Triple M Ranch for a year to meet the conditions, so be it. It wasn't as if she had anyplace better to go. Resolutely she approached the cemetery entrance, walked under the ornate metal archway forming the word "McKettrick" in graceful cursive. A life-size bronze statue of a man on horseback, broad-shouldered and imposing, with a bandanna at his throat and a six-gun riding on his hip, took center stage. Angus McKettrick, the patriarch. The founder of the Triple M, and the dynasty. Sierra knew little about