Authors: Kristen Callihan
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy
D
ov
e
r
cut
h
e
r
f
a
th
e
r
a
look
th
a
t
sh
e
could
not
d
e
ciph
e
r
b
e
for
e
a
nsw
e
ring
.
“
I
’
m
an
old
s
ea
dog
now
,
not
cut
out
for
such
a
voy
a
g
e,
but
I
’ll
find
your
f
a
th
e
r
a
good
cr
e
w
.
”
“
The
bes
t
money
can
buy,
”
he
r
f
a
t
he
r
said.
“
W
it
h
i
n
r
eason,
of
cou
r
se.
”
No
one
j
o
i
ned
h
i
m
i
n
h
i
s
chuck
l
e.
“
Y
o
u
’
v
e
f
o
un
d
a
ba
ck
e
r
,
t
h
e
n
?”
M
i
r
a
n
da
f
o
r
c
ed
h
e
r
s
e
l
f
t
o
ask.
She
wou
l
dn
’t
hope.
No
t
ye
t
.
Hope
lift
ed
a
spirit
up
t
oo
h
i
gh,
and
t
he
f
a
ll
fr
om
it
hu
rt
t
oo
much.
Ag
a
in
Fa
th
e
r
sco
w
l
e
d
.
“
O
f
cours
e.
Look
h
e
r
e,
Da
ught
e
r
,
l
et
m
e
m
i
n
d
m
y
b
u
s
i
n
e
ss
.
Y
ou
c
o
n
c
e
n
t
r
a
t
e
on
l
oo
k
i
n
g
l
o
v
e
l
y
a
nd
st
a
ying
out
of
troubl
e.
”
“
D
o
e
s
th
a
t
mea
n
I
ma
y
c
ea
s
e
w
ith
m
y
d
a
ily
a
ctiviti
e
s?”
sh
e
a
sk
e
d
e
v
e
n
l
y
.
He
r
d
a
y’s
t
a
k
e
l
a
y
h
ea
vily
in
h
e
r
pock
e
ts
.
S
hould
sh
e
m
ov
e
too
qu
i
ck
l
y
,
sh
e
’d
cl
a
ng
lik
e
th
e
b
e
lls
of
S
t
.
Pa
ul’s
.
Fa
th
e
r
sn
a
rl
e
d
out
an
o
a
th
as
h
e
thr
e
w
up
a
h
a
nd
a
nd
turn
e
d
awa
y
fro
m
h
e
r
to
p
a
c
e.
W
hich
,
am
ong
oth
e
r
things
,
mea
nt
h
e
fu
ll
y
e
xp
e
ct
e
d
h
e
r
to
continu
e
st
ea
ling
.
S
o
e
v
e
n
h
e
did
not
fu
ll
y
b
e
li
e
v
e
in
his
curr
e
nt
luck
.
Pe
rh
a
ps
h
e
wa
s
l
ea
rning
.
S
h
e
ought
not
h
a
v
e
b
a
it
e
d
hi
m.
I
t
wa
s
h
e
r
f
a
ult
th
e
y
w
e
r
e
poor
.
And
sh
e
o
we
d
hi
m
m
uch
th
a
t
h
e
h
a
dn’t
toss
e
d
h
e
r out
on
h
e
r
ear
y
ea
rs
ago.
I
t
wou
l
d
be
easier
to
r
e
fr
a
in
fro
m
doing
so
if
Fa
th
e
r
wou
l
d
si
m
ply
t
e
ll
h
e
r
wh
e
r
e
h
e
’d
gott
e
n
th
e
m
on
e
y
.
But
sh
e
wou
l
d
not
ruin
this
n
e
w
h
a
ppin
e
ss
.
W
h
a
t
did
it
hurt
to
pl
a
c
a
t
e
hi
m
?
Soon
sh
e
wou
l
d
be
w
ith
Ma
rtin
.
S
h
e
wou
l
d
be
a
w
if
e.
A
p
a
rtn
e
r
.
She
s
t
ood
and
f
o
r
ced
a
sm
il
e.
“
We
ll
done,
Fa
t
he
r
.
I
w
i
sh
you
g
r
ea
t
success.
”
And
she
d
i
d.
Mo
r
e
t
han
he
wou
l
d
eve
r
know.
He
g
a
v
e
h
e
r
a
tight
nod
b
e
for
e
rubbing
th
e
b
a
ck
of
his
n
e
ck
.
“
T
his
is
our ch
a
nc
e,
M
ir
a
nd
a.
”
T
h
e
gl
eam
wa
s
b
a
ck
in
his
e
y
e
s
,
f
am
ili
a
r
a
nd
f
e
v
e
r
e
d
.
S
h
e
tri
e
d
to
t
e
ll
h
e
rs
e
lf
it
wou
l
d
not
l
ea
d
to
troubl
e
as
it
h
a
d
don
e
b
e
for
e.