The Wilder sisters fall in love with men when they least expect it—and most need it. Rose, the older, more practical one, is a widow who lives in New Mexico and has two ungrateful kids, a bored dog, and a horse with a bad back. Lily, the younger, more daring sister, lives in Southern California, where she has put her career before everything else—including love. Lily and Rose flee to their parents' ranch, for some emotional detox. But the two haven't spoken in five long years, and spending time togther is the last thing they'd planned on. Nor had either anticipated being so actively pusued by lovestruck men. Readers will be in their corner all the way as they rediscover the bonds of sisterhood and slowly open their hearts to love.
I used to love my children," Rose Wilder Flynn said as she held the mare's bound tail aside so the vet, his gloved and greased arm sunk up to the shoulder inside the horse, could palpate the horns of the uterus for signs of pregnancy. "Sesame Street Band-Aids, scout meetings, classroom cupcakes with the little colored jimmies. Once upon a time, Austin, I did the whole nine yards for them."
Austin Donavan, DVM, rotated his arm inside Miss Winky, Rose's five-year-old quarter horse. "I believe you. It's easy enough to love them when they're small."
I should have had a passel of kids instead of stopping at two. Yes, with three or more offspring, my odds would definitely improve.
"How's that?"
"Because at any given time one of them is bound to need a loan, a ride somewhere, or a babysitter."
Austin smiled. "I suppose. A faraway look came over the vet's face as he pressed forward and down, gently palpating and massaging. Miss Winky, who had earned her nickname for advertising her business end when she was in season, tolerated the inspection with dignity, probably because her upper lip was caught in the bind of a humane twitch. The device, which looked like a nutcracker pinching Winky's upper lip, in reality was releasing endorphins so she wasn't in any pain. Rose scratched the mare's neck with her free hand while murmuring words of encouragement. it was not exactly the kind of treatment Rose herself received when she saw the gynecologist, but why not calm the horse down if it made Austin's job easier?
He turned his face toward her. The vet was clean-shaven and unsmiling, and though it appeared he was looking directly at Rose, she knew he was concentrating on the mare. They stood no more than two inches apart, their boot tips touching. Over the healthy scents of alfalfa and nervous horse, Rose could detect the soap Austin had used that morning to wash his face. Nothing fancy, but compared to his usual stink of alcohol, soap smelled like cologne. Then he smiled, and Rose's heart fluttered for a single beat. Oh, let it be! Winky hadn't caught on the first attempt at breeding, back in March. They'd tried again late in May, July, and August. Pregnancy in maiden mares could be detected as soon as thirty days after breeding, if the exam was performed by an experienced vet. Rose crossed her fingers. "Is she?"
"Knocked up like a cheerleader," he said. "I can feel it along the bottom of the left uterine horn, about the size of an orange.' He withdrew his arm and rolled off the lubricated sleeve, throwing it into the back of his pickup. "Barring unforeseen circumstances, you'll have yourself a foal next summer, Rose. Going to trailer her up to your dad's?"
"Yes. Soon." Maybe, if she got her way, this very weekend.
"I'll set up a vaccine schedule, and you give it to Shep or your father. Meanwhile, start her on supplements. I'll fetch you some samples from my truck.'
Rose unwound the string from the twitch, put it away in the barn, then using a garden hose, washed the mare's butt clean of the slippery lubricant. She turned Winky out into the small arena that took up most of her backyard. Cut loose, the nervous horse squealed once, kicked at the fence, then resumed her usual behavior, which involved standing at the rail, gossiping to Max, the elderly bay gelding who technically belonged to Rose's absent daughter, Amanda.
Dr. Donavan set the patient file on the seat of his truck and flipped through the boxes of medical supplies. Rose had seen him give them away to patients who couldn't afford proper veterinary care. His thick brown hair was cropped close, almost down to a burr. It looked as if he'd given himself the haircut with the same kind of shears Rose used to clip...
Jo-Ann Mapson, a third generation Californian, grew up in Fullerton as a middle child with four siblings. She dropped out of college to marry, but later finished a creative writing degree at California State University, Long Beach. Following her son's birth in 1978, Mapson worked an assortment of odd jobs teaching horseback riding, cleaning houses, typing resumes, and working retail. After earning a graduate degree from Vermont College's low residency program, she taught at Orange Coast College for six years before turning to full-time writing in 1996. Mapson is the author of the acclaimed novels Shadow Ranch, Blue Rodeo, Hank Chloe, and Loving Chloe. "The land is as much a character as the people," Mapson has said. Whether writing about the stark beauty of a California canyon or the poverty of an Arizona reservation, Mapson's landscapes are imbued with life. Setting her fiction in the Southwest, Mapson writes about a region that she knows well; after growing up in California and living for a time in Arizona and New Mexico, Mapson lives today in Cosa Mesa, California. She attributes her focus on setting to the influence of Wallace Stegner. Like many of her characters, Mapson has ridden horses since she was a child. She owns a 35-year-old Appaloosa and has said that she learned about writing from learning to jump her horse, Tonto. "I realized," she said, "that the same thing that had been wrong with my riding was the same thing that had been wrong with my writing. In riding there is a term called `the moment of suspension,' when you're over the fence, just hanging in the air. I had to give myself up to it, let go, trust the motion. Once I got that right, everything fell into place."
