Westin (The Sovereign Mountain, #2)

by Raya Morris Edwards

This book is for anyone who wants a hot cowboy to put his hat on your head and his collar around your neck.

Nana told me hope is as unpredictable as a meadowlark in the grass, hidden from view until someone steps too close. And then it bursts up into the sky, rising, trilling, black against the gold sunset. There are no meadowlarks in the fields by the house. David hays them, and it scares the birds away.