The Heart of Devin MacKade

The Heart of Devin MacKade [070-066-4.6]

By: Nora roberts

Prologue

Devin MacKade considered the age of twenty to be an awkward time in the life of a man. It was old enough for him to be considered responsible for actions and deeds, old enough for him to make a living or love a woman. Yet in the eyes of the law it was not quite old enough for him to be considered' fully adult.

He was glad it would only take twelve months to get through it.

Being the third of four brothers, he'd already watched Jared and Rare move beyond him into adulthood, and Shane was not far behind him. It wasn't that he was in a hurry, really. "He was enjoying his time and his life, but Devin had begun, in his methodical way, to make plans for what would be.

The little town of Antietam, Maryland, would have been surprised to know that he had decided to uphold the law, rather than break it. Or bend it.

His mother had pushed him into college, true, but once he arrived, Devin had decided to enjoy it. The courses in administration of justice, criminology, sociology, fascinated him. How rules were made, why, how they were upheld. It had seemed almost from the beginning that those books, those words, those ideals, had just been waiting for him to discover th~m.

So, in his thoughtful way, he had decided to become a cop.

It wasn't something he wanted to share with his family just yet. His brothers would rag him, undoubtedly. Even Jared, who was already on his way to becoming a lawyer, would show no mercy. It wasn't something he minded. Devin knew he could hold his own with all three of his brothers, be it with words or fists. But for him, it was a personal agenda, and he wasn't talking.

He was aware that not everything you wanted, deep ifiside, worked out. There was proof of that right here in Ed's cafe where he and his brothers were grabbing a quick meal before heading to Duff's Tavern to shoot pool. Yes, the proof was right here, serving him the blue plate special, flushing shyly at Rafe's easy teasing

Five foot two, barely a hundred pounds, as delicate and fragile as a rosebud. Angel hair like a curling halo around a face that was all quiet gray eyes. A nose that tipped up just the tiniest bit at the end. The prettiest mouth in the county, with its deep dip in the top lip. Like a doll's. Small hands that he knew could juggle plates and coffeepots and glasses with a studied competence.

Hands that, carried a ring with a chip of a diamond barely big enough to glint on the third finger.