When the moment came for Wyatt to seal their union with a kiss, Erin could finally feel truly glad that she had been born a girl, because now she could be Wyatt Fitzgerald’s woman. She couldn’t think of a better way to spend the rest of her life.

Keep reading for an excerpt from

A Mystic Creek novel by Catherine Anderson

SPRING FORWARD

Available now from Jove

Wind whistled into the big black van, whipping Tanner Richards’ hair across his forehead as he drove. Squinting at the gravel road through the brown strands drifting over his eyes, he hauled in a deep breath of pine-scented air. Five years ago he’d agonized over his decision to sell his accounting firm and move to Crystal Falls, Oregon. He’d given up a six-figure annual income with no assurance that he could even find a job in this area. Crazy, really. Looking back on it now, though, he was glad that he’d come. Being a deliveryman wasn’t as prestigious as working in his former chosen profession, but he made enough money to provide a good life for his kids, and he truly enjoyed the occupation. Having a rural route suited him. He was required to make fewer stops than he would have been in town, which equated to shorter workdays and more time in the evening to be with his children. And he’d made a lot of friends. Folks around here were more congenial than they were in larger towns.

As he rounded a curve in the country road, Tanner saw Tuck Malloy’s house. Sadness punched into him. For three years running, he’d often stopped there to visit at the end of his workday, and he’d enjoyed a lot of cold ones on the porch with his elderly friend. Now the windows reflected the darkness of an empty structure. A For Sale sign rode high on the front gate. It had appeared nearly a month ago.

Tanner had considered calling the Realtor to learn what had happened to the property owner after his calls to Tuck went unanswered, but he really didn’t want to know. Tuck had been a crusty old codger and eighty years young, as he’d been fond of saying. Unexpected things could happen to people that age. A heart attack, maybe, or a stroke. Tuck liked that piece of ground, and he would never have left voluntarily. He’d said so more than once. Tanner figured the old fellow was dead. Otherwise why would his place be up for sale?

Tanner pulled over and stopped outside the hurricane fence for a moment, a habit he had developed since the home had been vacated. He trailed his gaze over the front porch, now devoid of the comfortable Adirondack chairs where he had once sat with Tuck to chat. Recalling the old man’s recalcitrant dog, he smiled. Rip. Tanner hoped the blue heeler had found a good home. He’d been a handful and was probably difficult to place.

Damn, he missed them both. With a sigh Tanner eased the van back onto the road. He had only one more delivery before he could call it a day. Maybe he could mow the lawn and do some weeding before his kids got home. Tori, now eight, had dance class after school today, and Michael, eleven and getting gangly, had baseball practice. Since his wife’s death, Tanner had been a single dad, and not a day went by that he wasn’t grateful for his mom’s help. She got his kids off to the bus stop each morning and chauffeured them to most of their activities, which took a huge load of responsibility off his shoulders.