Chapter 1

Zoe Green staredat herself in the mirror at the beauty shop and felt the tears well up in her eyes. The haircut wasn't bad. It was just…different.

But different was to be expected. A new life called for something as drastic as a new haircut. Gone were the waist-length white-blond locks that had been her signature style. Along with the hair went the weight of guilt, shame, and embarrassment from being divorced after less than a year of marriage. Everything was lying on the salon floor, waiting to be swept into the dustbin.

The last time she'd had hair this short she'd been four years old and taken a pair of kitchen shears, cutting her curly locks almost to the scalp. It had been her mother who'd shed tears then. The tears had been followed by a paddling Zoe still remembered. She'd never cut her hair again.

As an adult, Zoe realized if her mother had been paying more attention to her daughter than her personal trainer, then a four-year-old never would have been able to climb up on the counter and gotten a pair of sharp kitchen shears to begin with. But it wasn't often Melody Green put anyone or anything else above herself.

"Wow, you look amazing," said the woman in the chair next to hers. "If I hadn't seen you come in I never would have recognized you. Not everyone can pull off a style that short. And it really makes your eyes and cheekbones pop. It's stunning."

Zoe blinked rapidly so the tears wouldn't fall. She was a new woman, and the new Zoe didn't cry. So she straightened her shoulders and stiffened her upper lip and said, "Thank you. It's definitely going to take some getting used to."

"All good things do," she said kindly. "I'm Raven, by the way. I own the little boutique a couple of doors down."

Raven was an attractive woman around Zoe's age with dark wavy hair parted down the middle and a fringe of bangs that framed big blue eyes. Her hair looked almost exactly the same as it had when she'd come in, only a little shorter, and a few subtle highlights were now mixed in with the curls. She wore big hoop earrings and bright red lipstick. She reminded Zoe of a modern-day gypsy.

"I saw your shop when I got into town last week," Zoe said. "I love the pantsuit in the window."

"That metallic bronze would look amazing on you with the color of your hair and skin. Size four, right? I'll make sure to hold one for you in the back room."

Zoe smiled, deciding the woman wasn't only an insightful salesperson, but she knew the ins and outs of her business well. She could respect and appreciate that.

"I'm Zoe."

"It's nice to meet you. Here on vacation?" Raven asked.

With as much confidence as she could muster Zoe said, "No. I live here now."

"Wow," Raven said, a sympathetic understanding in her eyes that made Zoe feel like she'd just told the woman all her family secrets. "A new town and a new haircut. That's a lot of change in one week."

"Tell me about it," Zoe said. "Not to mention freshly signed divorce papers, a new book contract, and a new condo." Zoe felt herself starting to hyperventilate and she took a calming breath. No big deal. People made major life-changing decisions every day—maybe not all in one day—but it did happen.

As an added boost to her confidence she said, "I'm going to get a dog too."

"Good for you," Raven said, laughing, and then her smile softened. "I'm sorry about the divorce, but it must be exciting to have something new and fresh on the horizon. I'm a big believer in new adventures. They're good for the soul. And if you're looking for a dog, the shelter is close by. Just walk right in front of The Lampstand and then take a right. The shelter is the cute little stone chalet at the end of the block. I'm sure they'll have exactly what you're looking for."

That would be a nice change of pace, Zoe thought wryly—to know exactly what she was looking for. But all she knew was she had to start somewhere. She was alone, but that was nothing new. What mattered was she had her name, her career, and a great view from her condo. Everything else she'd figure out along the way.

Zoe handed her credit card over to the stylist and left her a generous tip, and then she grabbed her Louis Vuitton travel bag that carried her laptop—because she never left home without it—and put her earrings back on. Excitement was coursing through her veins. A new adventure. That's exactly what she needed. Just like the heroines in her books.

There was a reason she wrote novels for a living. Writing had been a means of escape during a childhood with two very self-absorbed parents. She'd been the only eleven-year-old at St. Mary's School for Girls who'd been thrilled at being sent off to boarding school in another state. And then from there she'd gone off to college.

She would have gone just about anywhere to keep from going back to her parents' house where her mother brought one lover after another right under her father's nose. And her father stayed away on business so he could travel with his mistress. Heaven forbid the two of them actually share the same space. That's when the fireworks really started, especially if alcohol was involved.

Writing had saved her. Her first novel had been published before her senior year of college and she'd signed a huge contract to write three more books soon after, so she'd quit college and gone to work full-time writing. It had given her the financial independence she'd needed to live on her own. She'd been twenty-two years old, and she'd only spoken with her parents a handful of times since then. Neither of them seemed to remember they had a daughter, not even on Christmas or her birthday.

Zoe had spent the rest of her twenties making sure she'd never have to go back to that house again, working almost nonstop and accumulating a small fortune in the meantime. And then she'd met Todd by chance while he'd been on a run in Central Park. The sight of him had taken her breath away. He'd been handsome and fit and very charming. And he'd convinced her to marry him in a matter of weeks in a whirlwind romance. And in the span of that year she'd lost her independence and herself. Not to mention a good chunk of what she'd worked for.

Zoe blinked rapidly and shook herself out of the memories. "It was nice to meet you, Raven." She smiled and hoped it reached her eyes.

"Come on down to the boutique when you get a chance," Raven said. "A haircut like that needs a whole new wardrobe."

Zoe laughed. "You can count on it."

"Welcome to Laurel Valley."

* * *

Welcome to Laurel Valley. Zoe let the words play around in her mind. There was something about this place that had called to her instantly. Her publisher had sent her to Laurel Valley several years before to do a book signing, and the town had left an impression on her. So much so there'd been pieces of Laurel Valley in every book she'd written since.

The resort town sat like a jewel nestled at the base of white-capped mountains, surrounded by clear lakes and towering pines. The architecture of the town was Bavarian in style and strictly maintained so it looked like a picture-perfect postcard no matter the season. Chalets lined the downtown area, made of stucco or natural stone, and planter boxes streaming with colorful flowers hung from every window.

The downtown area was in the shape of an X and at the apex was a two-story building in the same Bavarian style with a pointed black roof and balconies on every side. A large sign that read The Lampstand hung over the door and large pots of fuchsia and yellow bougainvillea spilled artfully over the edges.

At the center of the X was an area that held wooden picnic tables with red umbrellas during the summer and that became an ice-skating rink in the winter. She remembered the ice-skating rink from when she'd visited before. Winters were cold and long in Laurel Valley.

Zoe noticed the sign hanging under the awning two doors down that said Raven Layne and knew she'd be back to the boutique to shop later. For the moment, she felt like she was having an out-of-body experience. Her head was too light, and she had to resist the urge to push her hair back off her shoulders. What did they call it when amputees still felt like their limbs were there? Phantom limbs, she thought. Well, she had phantom hair and it was already driving her crazy.

But crazy seemed to be her middle name today because she took a deep breath and cut across the street in front of The Lampstand, and then she took a right toward the dog shelter. She even managed to nod and smile at the people who passed her on the sidewalk. They were most likely tourists here for the summer, and the thought that this was her home now made her straighten her shoulders with pride.

The animal shelter was at the end of the block in a chalet made from the same natural river stone as her condo. Zoe wondered how many people came here on vacation and left with a pet. It seemed an odd place for an animal shelter, but it obviously worked. When she drew closer, she could see why.

Her heart sighed at the sight of a pen full of fluffy puppies wrestling playfully in the grass. A family of four came up beside her, oohing and ahhing, and she could tell by their Laurel Valley T-shirts and backpacks they were on vacation.

"It's our last day here, Phil," the wife said. "We can take one of them back home with us tomorrow. The kids will have the rest of the summer to train him."

Zoe could tell the dad was a goner. There was no way he could resist those three faces looking so imploringly at him. Before she got caught in the puppy trap, Zoe found her resolve and marched through the front door of the shelter.

The last thing she needed was a puppy. Puppies were not conducive to book deadlines. They required lots of playtime and attention, not to mention they required lots of trips outside. The thought of going up and down the elevator every hour and through the night was almost enough to have her run screaming in the opposite direction. But something kept her feet planted to the pine floor of the reception area.

It smelled of antiseptic and lemons, and beneath it was the underlying aroma of animals. There was a large L-shaped reception desk with a pretty girl behind the counter. She was on the phone, so Zoe walked over to the glass wall where rows of kittens were displayed. There were shorthairs and longhairs, blue eyes and amber, playful and sleeping. They were all adorable, and for just a moment she considered getting a kitten too. They were hard to resist. Which was, she was sure, why they had them displayed at the front of the shelter.

A kitten was not on her list for starting a new life. Todd had a cat, and it had been a miserable, mean, vengeful tabby who'd spent its days looking for ways to sabotage her work and her marriage.

That was probably unfair. A cat couldn't possibly have that much power as to sabotage one's marriage. It only seemed that way because Todd babied that ferocious fur ball more than he had her.

"How can I help you?" a voice said.

Zoe jumped slightly and turned to face the pretty girl who'd been on the phone. She had a kind, round face still softened by youth, a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and her dark hair was piled artfully on top of her head. She wore jeans and a pale blue T-shirt with the shelter's logo across the front.

"Sorry," Zoe said. "I was lost in thought."

"I figured you must be," she said, grinning. "Most people don't look like they could do murder when they're staring at kittens. Unless they're a psychopath. You're not a psychopath, are you?"

"Not since I last checked," Zoe said. She couldn't help but smile. The girl's good humor and infectious personality wouldn't let her do anything else.

"I'm Mac O'Hara," she said.

"Zoe Green. And I'm here for a dog."

"Oh," Mac said, looking surprised. "Don't get me wrong, but I'm pretty good at matching people with pets. Are you sure you're a dog person?"

"What animal would you match me with?" Zoe asked, intrigued.

Mac stood back and looked her over from head to toe. "You're successful," she said. "Busy life. Busy schedule. And you don't take a lot of time for yourself except for the necessities. Killer hair, by the way. You look like you could fight an army of orcs, be the lead singer for a rock band, and then seduce a Mediterranean prince and sell his secrets to the government."

"That's very specific," Zoe said, lips twitching. "Are you a writer?"

"I'm a waitress over at The Lampstand most of the time," Mac said, shrugging. "And I work here three days a week. I also go to school, but we're out for the summer."

"Well, you have a very creative imagination," Zoe said. "What are you studying?"

"Business," Mac said. "I don't love it, but I'm supposed to graduate next spring, and I'm pretty sure my dad would kill me if I changed my major at this point."

"That I do understand," Zoe said sympathetically. "Sometimes you just have to keep going and learning so you can discover who you really want to be. And then once you figure it out you can forge your own path."

"Is that what you did?"

"Yeah, pretty much," she said with a sigh.

The chime rang over the door and the family who'd been eyeing the puppies outside stepped in. The father had obviously caved since both children were practically bouncing out of their shoes with excitement.

"Welcome," Mac said, grinning down at the kids. "Talked him into it, did you? I've seen y'all come by a couple times this week to look at the puppies."

"We want the white-and-brown one!" the little boy said. "I'm going to name him Doug because that's my best friend's name, and Doug has a brown spot over his eye just like the puppy."

"I'm sure Doug will be honored," Mac said. "Hold on just a second and I'll have someone come help you with all the paperwork." Then she looked back at Zoe and winked. "Give me just a minute and I'll finish matching you with your perfect animal."

"I can hardly wait," Zoe said, laughing and shaking her head. Whoever Mac O'Hara was, she was a handful.

A few minutes later Mac came back with a man who was wearing the same shirt as Mac. Like all the people in Laurel Valley, he had a summer tan and the physique of someone who spent their off hours on the lake or the ski slopes. He smiled at the family and ushered them over to the counter to fill out paperwork, and Mac waved Zoe to the door she held open that led into the kennel area.

"So how close was I on your personal assessment?" Mac asked her.

"You'd make a fair palm reader at the county fair."

Mac grinned. "Ahh, my ancestors would be proud. Anything sounds better than sitting in a stuffy office all day for the rest of my life."

"So which one of these is my perfect match?" Zoe asked.

"You're definitely a cat person," Mac answered instantly. "But I have a feeling you're also stubborn and you don't change your mind easily, so I'm open to suggestions."

"You have more wisdom than my ex-husband," Zoe said dryly. "And I'd agree with you. A cat would go much better with my schedule. But I work from home and I have no travel plans for a long while, so I want a dog. I've never had a dog. Dogs are man's best friend, right?"

"Right," Mac said. "Just keep your shoes and handbags out of reach. They look expensive. To a puppy, everything is a chew toy."

"Oh, I don't want a puppy. I want an older dog. One that's already trained and has lived some life. I want a dog with experience."

"Uh-huh," Mac said doubtfully. "I think I've got just the dog for you. And this is his lucky day because he's supposed to be shipped out in the morning."

"Why?" Zoe asked, brows raised. "What's wrong with him?"

"Oh, nothing," Mac assured her. "He's the sweetest dog. But he's been here six months and that's our limit for keeping animals before we send them to another shelter."

Mac made a slicing motion across her neck and Zoe's eyes widened. "I thought this was a no-kill shelter?"

"It is," Mac said. "So we send them to a shelter over in Boise when they don't get adopted. Since I've started working here we haven't had to send one animal to the farm. That's what I call it. I'm really good at getting people to adopt animals."

"Poor thing," Zoe said, imagining a geriatric mutt with one eye and a limp that no one wanted. "Show him to me. I don't mind an older dog. Even if he's ugly. I'm sure he'll make a great companion."

Mac led her past a kennel full of terrier puppies, a German shepherd, an English bulldog, and an assortment of mutts. They reached the very last kennel and Zoe's heart thumped wildly in her chest. She had no idea what she was looking at. A yeti or bigfoot was a possibility. She'd never seen so much white hair in her life. Not to mention he was the size of a small horse.

"It's your lucky day, Chewy," Mac said, putting her knuckles up to the kennel gate for Chewy to sniff.

"Chewy?" Zoe asked.

"As in Chewbacca," Mac said. "Cause he's so big and hairy."

"I can see that." Zoe felt the spit dry up in her mouth and had trouble swallowing.

"He's some kind of sheepdog mix, but he's full grown so you don't have to worry about him getting any bigger. And he's already outside trained. Though his table manners could probably use some work. But there's a great obedience school on the other side of town."

"Uh-huh," Zoe said, staring into a face with so much hair she wondered if there were eyes in there somewhere.

"I brush him every day," Mac said. "He really likes to be pampered. And he's really very sweet, and smart too. Sometimes I think he knows exactly what I'm saying. It's a little weird, actually. He only jumps when he's excited, but you've got to kind of brace yourself because he weighs more than either of us and you'll end up on the ground before you know it. But obedience school will really help him. He just doesn't realize how strong he is. How can you say no to that face? I can't even imagine him going off to the farm."

Zoe swallowed the big lump in her throat. She couldn't send Chewy to the farm. That would make her an accomplice to murder.

"Do you like condos, Chewy?" Zoe asked, tentatively reaching her hand out to let him sniff.

He woofed softly and sat politely back on his hind legs. His woof blew the hair out of his eyes long enough to see the black gaze staring back at her.

"He needs a haircut," Zoe said.

"There's a groomer not far from the obedience school. I didn't see you pull up in a car."

"I walked," Zoe said, still numb from all the life-changing decisions she'd made in less than twenty-four hours. "I live in the condo over by the lake."

"Ooh, nice," Mac said. "My cousin Hank built that development. It's very swanky. Chewy is definitely an uptown dog."

Chewy looked Zoe up and down, obviously trying to decide whether or not she passed muster, and he woofed once more before walking past them both and down the long row of kennels to the lobby door.

"Well," Zoe said. "I guess he's decided to adopt me."