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“I’m your first lover, Sarah. ”

She tossed back her head, pride stiffening her resolve. “Do you really think you’ve been such a…a monument in my life, after just those few weeks we were involved? I could have had dozens of lovers since you. Ones that I tossed aside as easily as you did me. ”

“There was no tossing and it sure as hell wasn’t easy. ” Max’s brooding gaze met hers. “And I don’t think there have been dozens. ” His voice was soft. Impossibly gentle.

“Go to hell. ”

“Been there. ” He looked pained and his fingers, when they touched her cheek, weren’t steady.

Or maybe that was just because she was shaking. From head to toe.

“You were the one I loved, Sarah. ” His fingers smoothed down her cheek. Traced her jaw. “That was never a lie. ”

He closed the last few inches between them, covering her mouth with his.

Dear Reader,

I think there is nothing better than a happy ending. The guy gets the girl, and all is right with the world. The bad guy gets caught, and justice is served. The personal struggle is overcome, and the character we’ve come to care about moves on, somehow stronger in the process.

The hard part, as a writer, is that it’s not very interesting if we just magically “arrive” at the happy ending. We can’t get to that point without having to experience all the problems beforehand, can’t fully appreciate the high moments without also having a brush with the low times.

Sarah Clay has yet to learn that those low moments are all a part of her life’s path, and to accept the fact that for her, the highest moments will only come when she opens her heart again. But, as we all know, opening one’s heart to another person can truly be one of the most difficult things to do in life. This is Sarah’s struggle with Max, and it’s also Max’s struggle with his past.

Thank you for joining Sarah and Max and me as we all, once again, visit Weaver to share in a journey to another happy ending.

Sincerely,

Allison Leigh

Sarah and the Sheriff

Allison Leigh

For my parents, who’ve celebrated more

than forty-nine years together.

You are my inspiration.

Prologue

She hadn’t thought things could get any worse.

Twenty-one years old.

Pregnant with no husband in the wings. No fiancé, of course. And a boyfriend? Oh, please.

Sarah wanted to laugh over that one, and might have if she hadn’t felt so horrible.

Laughing might have drawn attention to herself, anyway. And attention was the last thing she wanted, considering she was practically hiding in the thick of an oleander bush that was as tall as she was.

She brushed at the pink blossoms tickling her arm, shifting her position. The bride was handing off her spray of deep red roses to her attendant and Sarah nearly jumped out of her skin when a voice spoke behind her.

“I love weddings. ”

She looked at the small, wizened woman who’d toddled up beside her. If she’d noticed anything odd about Sarah’s position, virtually hiding in a bush, she said nothing. “Don’t you, dear?”