"5 Stars!...A rollicking, good tale of love on a ranch in the modern west. Barbara Clark has outdone herself in this story with handsome cowboys, big horses, even bigger cows, and sparkling, witty dialogue between the city-slicker chef and the hard-working, down-on-his luck cowboy. The reader finds herself drawn into the soaring vistas and rugged outdoors of Arizona and loving every minute of it. A wonderful tale!"—Lani Roberts, Affaire de Coeur Magazine

"4 Roses...The story flows so well with emotion and a touch of humor. I loved Barbara Clark's secondary characters and hope to see more of them in future books."—Tami Sutton, Escape To Romance

"...Truly the sweetest story I have ever read. The relationship between Jake and Annie is wonderful. They prove love can make dreams come true. This is a keeper."—Nancy Elekes, owner of Sunshine Books Bookstore

…Jake shouted her name. She hadn’t the breath to answer as she desperately fought to stay in the saddle and slow her mount’s headlong flight. They splashed through a stream behind the cabin, dodged broken fence posts, and rushed heedlessly between trees and scattered boulders. Branches snagged her hair. Sage’s mane whipped across her face, tangling in her eyelashes. The sharp smell of the mare’s sweat filled Annie’s nostrils. Tears of pain and fear stung her eyes.

Worried Sage would be injured, she tried to regain control, but the spooked horse had the bit in her teeth and went faster, following the faint trail up a long bench of hard-packed earth and rock. The mare lunged at the steeper pitch, and ripped the reins from Annie’s hands. She watched with horror as both lengths of leather flew out of her reach. How could she stop Sage from hurting them both? She didn’t want to jump and leave the horse to injure herself.

Choking back her panic, she leaned forward, reaching for the flying reins. A lucky bounce brought one within her grasp. The other one snagged in some brush long enough for her to grab it, but she lost her left stirrup. Her heel gouged the buckskin’s side. With a wild snort, Sage charged up the narrow path, topped the crest, and raced into a shallow dip.

Too late, Annie saw the cliff ahead where land had collapsed into the valley. Frantic, she pulled at the reins. The mare made a sharp ninety-degree turn at the cliff’s edge. Annie lost her other stirrup, tumbling sideways over her mount’s shoulder. Her outflung fingers scraped rocks.