When widow Abby Finnegan meets ranch hand Kyle Lachapelle, she figures he’s as deceitful as her family. But Kyle is a Secret Service operative working undercover, and Abby has a disturbing connection to his counterfeiting case. Abby’s protecting her heart while Kyle can’t afford the feelings stirring in his – love is out of the question…or is it the answer?
Read an excerpt!
“Name’s Kyle Lachapelle,” he extended a hand in greeting.
Abby shook it without thought. “Abigail Finnigan, and this is . . . ”
“Your daughter, Millicent.” He interrupted with another grin. “We’ve met, though we hadn’t been formally introduced.”
“I’m called Millie.”
Again Kyle squatted to be at her eye level, and extended his hand to her. “Pleased to have made your acquaintance, Millie. I’m obliged to you for such good advice.”
Millie smiled warmly, liking the feel of her small hand in Kyle’s strong grip. His smile widened and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Millie could tell he laughed a lot by the lines around his eyes that were still there even after he stopped smiling and rose again to full height.
Before Abby could respond to her daughter’s obvious infatuation with this stranger, the front door banged open and heavy foot steps rapidly crossed the store. A small grimace crossed Abby’s face before she could stop it. With a pang of shame she saw that the stranger noticed her sour expression. He turned away without comment.
“Where’s my girls?” a deep voice boomed.
“Boone!” Millie squealed and threw herself at him.
Boone caught up Millie, twirling her about in the open space in front of the counter. He set her down carefully before turning his attention to Abby.
“Abby, I been looking for you this morning. Thought maybe you would like to join me for breakfast.”
“Good morning, Boone,” Abby forced herself to be cordial. It wasn’t as if she didn’t care for Boone, just not the way he obviously wanted her to. “I’m afraid Millie and I already had our morning meal.”
“Pshaw,” Boone dismissed this. “You couldn’t possibly have eaten yer fill.”
For a split second, Abby felt grateful to God. The feeling passed quickly, before she truly grasped it. “Oh, but we did eat our fill and then some. We shared breakfast with the Stantons.”
This time Boone frowned. “The preacher’s family? What you doing over there?”
“Jennifer and Millie are friends, if you must know.”
What she really wanted to say was that it was none of his business.
Out of the corner of her eye, Abby saw the stranger make his purchase and move to leave the store. He politely pretended not to hear the conversation even though he was less than three feet away. At the same time, Boone became aware of the man’s presence.
“You,” Boone pointed. “You new in town?”
“Could say that,” Kyle answered vaguely.
“Ya’ are, or ya’ could say that, which is it?”
“Both, I reckon.”
“Look, mister,” Boone stood toe to toe with Kyle, their eyes level with one another. “I’m the law in these here parts an’ it’s my job to know about newcomers to town. An’ I ain’t partial to your wiseacre answers.”
“Well, I guess that makes us even, ‘cause I’m not partial to your lewd, nosy attitude.” Kyle held Boone’s gaze, silently daring the other man to make something of his answer.
Boone stared back, unblinking. He wasn’t going to back down from a stare-off, though he was getting a real uneasy feeling in his gut about this hombre. Most cowpunchers either worked for Raymond Bigelow or were just passing through Prophecy. Bigelow hands generally knew their place when it came to Boone Warren. Rambling men were naturally intimidated by Boone’s large size and the way he carried himself. This man was quite obviously not intimidated nor impressed.
Tension thickened the air as each man silently dared the other to back down. Abby noticed that while Boone’s gun rested in its customary place at his hip, the stranger was unarmed. If Lachapelle had noted this fact, he made no sign that it mattered. And though Abby well knew how apt Boone was with his fists, she began to wonder if perhaps this newcomer might be able to best him in a fist fight. She wasn’t willing to find out the answers to any of these questions.
“That’s enough,” Abby scolded sharply. “I’ll not have such a show of childish violence in front of my daughter.”
Even the sharpness in her voice did not break the staring match. Abby frowned and forced herself between the two men, shoving Boone backwards. He broke eye contact with Lachapelle and turned his gaze to Abby.
“I’m ashamed of you, Boone Warren.” Her voice was quiet, yet forceful. “You really must learn your manners.”
He dipped his head as if apologizing, but only to Abby and only for a moment. His anger was barely veiled as he looked again at Lachapelle. “Better be on your best behavior when in my town. I don’t tolerate any hooliganism. Understood?”
Abby snorted but kept quiet. She was relieved when Kyle said, “I don’t aim to spend much time in town any how,” and then moved out of the store. Unfortunately Boone remained, and his attention was once again on her.
“Now, I seem to recall something about school starting up soon. Reckon Miss Millie will be needing a new dress.”
“No, Boone,” Abby hissed. “I will make her a dress. You will not buy her one.”
Millie took in the conversation silently. Her heart leapt at the possibility of a store-bought dress, then fell again when her mother turned down the offer. For now, at least, there would be no store bought dresses. Maybe she could still have the lemon candy.
Boone scowled; Abby glared up at him. This was a new staring match, one they both were becoming increasingly accustomed to. Boone shook his head and moved around Abby.
“Millie, if it’s okay with your Ma, I would be honored to buy you a piece of candy.”
A bright smile split Millie’s face, her eyes bright with anticipation. Abby nodded approval. Millie went straight for the jar of lemon sticks. She took one out and hesitated.
“Would you like another?” Boone smiled warmly. “Go on, take two.” He tossed two pennies onto the counter.
Abby shook it without thought. “Abigail Finnigan, and this is . . . ”
“Your daughter, Millicent.” He interrupted with another grin. “We’ve met, though we hadn’t been formally introduced.”
“I’m called Millie.”
Again Kyle squatted to be at her eye level, and extended his hand to her. “Pleased to have made your acquaintance, Millie. I’m obliged to you for such good advice.”
Millie smiled warmly, liking the feel of her small hand in Kyle’s strong grip. His smile widened and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Millie could tell he laughed a lot by the lines around his eyes that were still there even after he stopped smiling and rose again to full height.
Before Abby could respond to her daughter’s obvious infatuation with this stranger, the front door banged open and heavy foot steps rapidly crossed the store. A small grimace crossed Abby’s face before she could stop it. With a pang of shame she saw that the stranger noticed her sour expression. He turned away without comment.
“Where’s my girls?” a deep voice boomed.
“Boone!” Millie squealed and threw herself at him.
Boone caught up Millie, twirling her about in the open space in front of the counter. He set her down carefully before turning his attention to Abby.
“Abby, I been looking for you this morning. Thought maybe you would like to join me for breakfast.”
“Good morning, Boone,” Abby forced herself to be cordial. It wasn’t as if she didn’t care for Boone, just not the way he obviously wanted her to. “I’m afraid Millie and I already had our morning meal.”
“Pshaw,” Boone dismissed this. “You couldn’t possibly have eaten yer fill.”
For a split second, Abby felt grateful to God. The feeling passed quickly, before she truly grasped it. “Oh, but we did eat our fill and then some. We shared breakfast with the Stantons.”
This time Boone frowned. “The preacher’s family? What you doing over there?”
“Jennifer and Millie are friends, if you must know.”
What she really wanted to say was that it was none of his business.
Out of the corner of her eye, Abby saw the stranger make his purchase and move to leave the store. He politely pretended not to hear the conversation even though he was less than three feet away. At the same time, Boone became aware of the man’s presence.
“You,” Boone pointed. “You new in town?”
“Could say that,” Kyle answered vaguely.
“Ya’ are, or ya’ could say that, which is it?”
“Both, I reckon.”
“Look, mister,” Boone stood toe to toe with Kyle, their eyes level with one another. “I’m the law in these here parts an’ it’s my job to know about newcomers to town. An’ I ain’t partial to your wiseacre answers.”
“Well, I guess that makes us even, ‘cause I’m not partial to your lewd, nosy attitude.” Kyle held Boone’s gaze, silently daring the other man to make something of his answer.
Boone stared back, unblinking. He wasn’t going to back down from a stare-off, though he was getting a real uneasy feeling in his gut about this hombre. Most cowpunchers either worked for Raymond Bigelow or were just passing through Prophecy. Bigelow hands generally knew their place when it came to Boone Warren. Rambling men were naturally intimidated by Boone’s large size and the way he carried himself. This man was quite obviously not intimidated nor impressed.
Tension thickened the air as each man silently dared the other to back down. Abby noticed that while Boone’s gun rested in its customary place at his hip, the stranger was unarmed. If Lachapelle had noted this fact, he made no sign that it mattered. And though Abby well knew how apt Boone was with his fists, she began to wonder if perhaps this newcomer might be able to best him in a fist fight. She wasn’t willing to find out the answers to any of these questions.
“That’s enough,” Abby scolded sharply. “I’ll not have such a show of childish violence in front of my daughter.”
Even the sharpness in her voice did not break the staring match. Abby frowned and forced herself between the two men, shoving Boone backwards. He broke eye contact with Lachapelle and turned his gaze to Abby.
“I’m ashamed of you, Boone Warren.” Her voice was quiet, yet forceful. “You really must learn your manners.”
He dipped his head as if apologizing, but only to Abby and only for a moment. His anger was barely veiled as he looked again at Lachapelle. “Better be on your best behavior when in my town. I don’t tolerate any hooliganism. Understood?”
Abby snorted but kept quiet. She was relieved when Kyle said, “I don’t aim to spend much time in town any how,” and then moved out of the store. Unfortunately Boone remained, and his attention was once again on her.
“Now, I seem to recall something about school starting up soon. Reckon Miss Millie will be needing a new dress.”
“No, Boone,” Abby hissed. “I will make her a dress. You will not buy her one.”
Millie took in the conversation silently. Her heart leapt at the possibility of a store-bought dress, then fell again when her mother turned down the offer. For now, at least, there would be no store bought dresses. Maybe she could still have the lemon candy.
Boone scowled; Abby glared up at him. This was a new staring match, one they both were becoming increasingly accustomed to. Boone shook his head and moved around Abby.
“Millie, if it’s okay with your Ma, I would be honored to buy you a piece of candy.”
A bright smile split Millie’s face, her eyes bright with anticipation. Abby nodded approval. Millie went straight for the jar of lemon sticks. She took one out and hesitated.
“Would you like another?” Boone smiled warmly. “Go on, take two.” He tossed two pennies onto the counter.
Read the reviews!
"Tammy Doherty spins a western plot that surely rivals its name...I read the page-turning book in two delightful days. I plan to go back and read Tammy Doherty's two preceding novels in the series. If they equal the Celtic Knot, I'm sure I won't be disappointed."
--Melva J. Kinsey, Amazon Reviewer
Purchase Celtic Knot at Amazon or Barnes and Noble!
Tammy Doherty is the author of three inspirational Western romances,Celtic Cross, Claddaugh, and Celtic Knot. She lives on a small farm with her husband of 25+ years and their two children. Besides writing, she also manages the family perennial farm and works in customer service for a veterinary supply distributor. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and is Vice-Chair of the Grace Awards. Visit her online at http://tammydoherty.com/.
