Fragile Sanctuary (Sparrow Falls, #1)

by Catherine Cowles

Fallon had three older brothers. One by blood, Copeland. One adoptive, Shepard. And one foster, Trace.

Like my mom. My dad. Emilia. And me, in a way. The me I’d been then had died right along with them, thanks to old wiring in an even older house. A home that had been so full of life and love once but had been left half-burned for the past fourteen years.

“I love my dick flower. I’ll hang it with pride.”

Lolli’s favorite changed daily, and it was a constant source of competition between our hodgepodge of found siblings.

“The only thing they would want is for you to be happy.” My throat burned as it worked to hold back a sob. “I know. But sometimes being happy feels like the worst betrayal of all.”

“Come on. Let’s go hang my dick flower.”

But an asshole was better than the alternative. Better than caring. About anything or anyone. Caring was a recipe for nothing but agony.

Why was Shep so determined to be everything to everyone?

“Can you meet me at Rho’s Victorian?

I’d never laid eyes on Shep’s sister. Not for his lack of trying. He was always trying to bring me into his family’s fold. And they were that to him. Family. It didn’t matter that not all of them shared blood or that some had only joined the brood midway through life. They were his, and that bond was everything to him.

I wasn’t sure you could ruin a place like this. There was a simplicity to it that hung in the air. A peace.

Happiness was the greatest torture of all because it could all be taken away—and it was so much worse than if you’d never experienced it at all.

The more you ventured into town, the more you made yourself a part of the fabric of the place, and the more people felt they had a right to talk to you. To ask questions. That was not on my list of desired outcomes.

The gray-blue of the mountains was the perfect juxtaposition to the golden hue of the cliffs. Shep’s sister had sure landed herself one hell of a view, even if she had bought a half-burned-out house.

Over the years, I’d had to find a way to hold both—the family I’d lost and the one I’d found—and be grateful for the time I had with them.

Put the chat on do not disturb. That’s what I do when Cope’s getting all needy. Like his millions of adoring fans aren’t enough.

Can you divorce your siblings? What are the legal ramifications of that?

Only the last section of each book remained dusted with black flecks from the fire. Because as frequently as I revisited each one, I couldn’t seem to force myself to make it to the end. Of any of them. Something about the endings was too painful, too final, even if they were happy.

She was petite, but the force of the impact knocked the air right out of my lungs. Or maybe it was the fire in those hazel eyes that stole my oxygen—hazel eyes locked on me in fury.

While petite, she had curves for days. Dips and valleys that had images of my best friend’s little sister swirling in my brain—thoughts I had no right to. Shit was an understatement.

fire-restoration expert,

“You’re Anson? College best friend? The one Shep got arrested with for streaking the quad? That Anson?”

Reckless. That’s exactly what she was.

“Jesus, Anson. I’ve never seen anyone piss her off that quick.”

Biting someone’s head off wasn’t me—not even when they deserved it. But Anson had caught me at my most vulnerable, and that wasn’t something I liked anyone seeing. Ever.

I hated being the source of Shep’s worry. He took far too much on his shoulders already.

The Colsons gave all those they’d taken in long term a sense of safety and stability we desperately needed.

“He’s certainly not hard to look at.”

“Nope,” I said, popping the P. “But his personality ruins it.”

“Tell me how you real...

“He’s just not the warm-and-fuzzy type.”

“You’ll fix that in a matter of days.”

“Please. I’ve seen you turn the most cantankerous rancher into a puddle of sweetness at the nursery. This is nothing.”

“Need something, Reckless?”

“I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot.”

“You mean the foot you tripped over and almost broke your neck because of.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have been in there. I’m not going inside again until Shep clears it.”

“We don’t have to play nice. I’m here to do a job. You stay out of places you shouldn’t be, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“You’ve been nothing but a grumpy asshole since I met you. But with him…”

“Don’t do people. Love dogs.” And with that, he stalked back to the main site and his crew.

Who was I kidding? Everything about her twisted my insides. Too beautiful. Too bright. Too kind. She even took in damn dogs.

“You’re never predictable, are you, Anson?”

I had to keep my distance from Rhodes. She had a way of breaking through the numbness I’d made my home for the past two years. And that was just as dangerous as she was.

The last thing I wanted was to walk any closer to Rhodes. To her brightness, her color. It only made me realize just how gray my world had become.

I cupped the side of her face. Her skin felt incredibly soft, so in opposition to my torn and callused palms.

“Gotta stop meeting like this, Reckless.”

Now that I truly saw her, a desperate need to know more coursed through me. A need to understand all the pieces that came together to create the woman before me.

“This was my house.” She traced the structure with her eyes as if filling in the burned parts from memory. “Until it wasn’t.” She bit down on her lip, and I struggled to keep from pulling the flesh out of her teeth’s clutches. “They didn’t make it out of the fire.”

Fuck. No, I needed a word a hell of a lot stronger than fuck. But I wasn’t sure the English language had one.

Rhodes was facing her demons here.