Sometimes the most unexpected love can be exactly what a heart needs . . .
When a Lost Child warning blares over the mall's PA system, Carly Mason finds the little girl playing with a stuffed rabbit. Something about Penny Tremaine is different. An ex-social worker, Carly recognizes that the child suffers fetal alcohol effects, and a piece of Carly's past suddenly confronts her. Never again will she become personally involved with a client. The risks are far too great. But something about Penny--and Penny's handsome father--tugs at Carly's heart.
Dr. Ryan Tremaine is trying to put his life back together. With his ex-wife remarried and on a trip far away, his two teenage sons and Penny are living under his roof full time. Ryan has put his faith in his Sink-or-Swim list, a plan to reconnect with his children. The first step: recruit Carly Mason to be Penny's nanny.
Ryan never anticipated being so drawn to Carly, an attraction Carly seems to fight as much as he does. Could Carly be the missing piece that helps his family stay afloat, or will their blossoming romance only complicate things further?
Known for her realistic and engaging characters, Victoria Bylin delivers an emotion-packed story reminiscent of The Sound of Music, one that reminds us all to believe in the power of faith and love.
About the Author
Victoria Bylin writes contemporary and historical romances known for their realistic, relatable characters. Her work has finaled in contests such as the Carol Awards, the RITAs, and the RT Reviewers' Choice Award. A native of California, she and her husband now make their home in Lexington, Kentucky.
140 x 216 mm
Number of Pages
Baker Book House
The clerk at McGill’s Sporting Goods, a sandy-haired col-
lege kid, pushed a button to feed the paper tape through
the register, but it jammed for the third time. Scowling,
he tossed the crumpled receipt in the trash. “Sorry, sir. I know
you’re in a hurry.”
“Yes, I am.” Dr. Ryan Tremaine spoke through gritted teeth,
but he didn’t blame the clerk for his predicament. He’d been a fool
to let his two youngest children, Penny and Eric, out of his sight,
but he’d lost patience with Eric for pouting and Penny for pulling
the tags off rugby shirts. Expecting to be right behind them, he’d
allowed them to go to the food court for ice cream while he paid
for the baseball cleats for Kyle, his oldest son.
It was a bad decision, and Ryan knew it. The mall, crowded on
this Saturday afternoon in June, was a dangerous place, especially
for a little girl with special needs and a thirteen-year-old boy who
had what a family therapist called “issues.”
Kyle slung the bag holding the shoebox over his shoulder. “This
is taking forever. Maybe I should check on Eric and Penny.”
Ryan was about to agree when the register spit out the mile-long
receipt. The clerk tore it off and handed it to him with a flourish.
“There you go, sir. Sorry for the delay.”
Snatching it, Ryan spun on his heels. With Kyle at his side, they
sped out of the store to the main mall. He’d given Eric a twenty-
dollar bill and instructions to buy whatever treats he and Penny
wanted, then to wait in front of the ice cream place. Striding toward
it now, he scanned the counter, empty except for a trio of giggling
teenage girls. His gaze zipped to the tables in front of the shop,
also empty, then to the sea of half-filled wooden chairs and gray
“Do you see them?” he asked Kyle.
Ryan focused on one face at a time. An ophthalmologist by
profession, he had better than 20/20 vision, which made his fail-
ure to spot Penny and Eric even more alarming. In spite of the icy
air conditioning, droplets of perspiration beaded on his neck and
dripped down his spine.