Two families long divided by an ancient feud. Can a powerful love finally unite them?
Blade Hamilton is the last of his line. Hes never even heard of Crossroads, Texas, until he inherits land there. Riding in on his vintage Harley-Davidson, Blade finds a weathered ranch house, an empty prairie and a dark river that cuts a decisive path between the Hamiltons land and that of their estranged neighbors.
When Dakota helps a stranger on the roadside, she isnt prepared for the charisma of the man on the motorbikeor for the last name he bears: Hamilton, of her familys sworn enemies, representing all shes been raised to loathe. The problem is, it looks like Blade is in town to stay, and theres something about his wolf-gray eyes she just cant ignore.
Lauren Brigman feels adrift. Unhappy in work and unlucky in love, she knows she ought to be striving for more, but shes never truly at peace unless shes at home in Crossroads. If the wider world cant satisfy her, is home truly where her heart is?
Praise for New York Times bestselling author Jodi Thomas and her Ransom Canyon series
Compelling and beautifully written, it is exactly the kind of heart-wrenching, emotional story one has come to expect from Jodi Thomas.
Debbie Macomber, #1 New York Times bestselling author
You can count on Jodi Thomas to give you a satisfying and memorable read.
Catherine Anderson, New York Times bestselling author
A fast pace and a truly delightful twist at the end.
RT Book Reviews on Sunrise Crossing
[Sunrise Crossing] will warm any readers heart.
Publishers Weekly, A Best Book of 2016
This tale will grab readers, who will fall in love with the main characters and be just as enamored of the others.
Library Journal, starred review, on Lone Heart Pass
Thomas is a wonderful storyteller.
RT Book Reviews on Rustlers Moon
Western romance legend Thomass Ransom Canyon will warm readers with its huge heart and gentle souls.
Library Journal
A pure joy to read.
RT Book Reviews on the Ransom Canyon series
Indigo Lake
Winters Camp(Bonus Story)
Jodi Thomas
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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Sometimes people come into my life who leave me with a greater understanding of this life we all live, and two of them are:
Ernestine WakefieldBorn in 1926 in her grandparents home five miles east of Jayton, Texas, Ernestine was one of those rare people you meet for a moment and know if you talked longer, you would become best friends. Ill always remember one line she wrote: Bury me in boots and jeans because Ill be heading into heaven two-stepping. I smiled June 5, 2016, because I knew she was dancing.
Police officer Gerald E. Jerry ClineMy character Jerry Cline is named after this policeman who died EOW (End of Watch) February 24, 1983, in the line of duty in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I never met Jerry, but I saw the love in his wifes eyes when she spoke of him one afternoon when we had lunch in Albuquerque. To all the men and women in blue, thank you for standing in harms way to keep us all safe.
Table of Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Praise
Title Page
Indigo Lake
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
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
Winters Camp
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
EPILOGUE
Copyright
Indigo Lake
Jodi Thomas
PROLOGUE
The Ides of March, 2016
DEEP IN THE BACKCOUNTRY, where no paved roads cross and legends whisper through the tall buffalo grass, lies a lake fed by cold underground springs.
Indigo-colored water, dark and silent, moves over the pond where secrets hide just below the surface and an old curse lingers in silent ripples.
Two ranches border the shores. Two families who havent spoken for a hundred years.
A few of the old-timers claim the water is darker on Indigo Lake because of the blood washed away there.
Only tonight, one man stands listening, debating, wondering if breaking tradition will save him or kill him.
CHAPTER ONE
Last day of February, 2016
BLADE HAMILTON WALKED to the dark waters edge and stared into Indigo Lake. He didnt belong here. He didnt belong anywhere. Hed wasted his time coming to this nothing of a place.
By birth, the land was his. Youre the last of your branch of the Hamilton line, the judge in Crossroads had said an hour ago when hed handed over the deed to Hamilton Acres. Only, Blade had never heard of this old homestead before a week ago. Hed known nothing about his father or a dilapidated ranch that carried his last name.
Hed picked up the keys and a map from the sheriff in town and ridden out before dark on his vintage 1948 Harley-Davidson. Hed paid sixty thousand for the Harley, and Blade would bet it was worth more than his inherited land and house put together.
The last quarter mile had been dirt road, ending in an old bridge that groaned as he crossed onto what the judge had called the old Hamilton place.
A weathered two-story house stood a hundred yards off the road, like a sentinel blocking his entrance. Fifty or so years ago someone must have painted the homestead bright red, but the wood had weathered to a sangria color that almost matched the mud along the lake. Huge cottonwoods waded into the water with their bony-kneed roots and haunting skeleton forms still naked from winter.
Thanks to a stream with a wide-yet-shallow waterfall flooding the open land, small trees and bushes grew to his left like a wild miniature forest. The house sat on high ground where vines, now brown with winter, seemed to be crawling across the ground and almost covering the porch. Another few years and the vines would probably pull the place down.
Leaving the bike on dry ground beside a small barn, he moved slowly toward the house, his mind already mapping out the route back to Denver. Hed grown up in cities and the silence of the country made him uneasy.
Blade dropped his saddlebags on the porch and unlocked the door. He slowly walked into a museum of hard times.
Most of the windows downstairs were boarded, so he used a flashlight to navigate. Guns were racked on the walls and animal hides served as rugs. The place must have been furnished about the turn of the twentieth century and left to age. The smell of neglect hung in the moist air, and a thick layer of dirt rested over draped furniture.
Pictures showing four or maybe five generations hung in the stairwell. Faces stared back, resembling him so closely Blade had to take a second look. Ranchers on horseback, soldiers in uniforms, an oil field worker leaning from a rig, a fisherman next to an old Jeep, a man in a suit with a string tie. All were identified by tiny plates at the bottom of the frames.