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    Her Good Fortune


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      He felt something for her.

      A responsibility to protect her. It went deeper than just being responsible for someone he was thrown together with because of fate.

      Jack felt something for her.

      Undoubtedly the feelings he’d experienced had all been brought on by the car accident, and he didn’t like the wave of panic that had assaulted him when he’d first heard Gloria screaming. And he definitely didn’t like the odd sensation that had waltzed through him, filling every cavity, when she’d clung to him after he’d extracted her out of the vehicle.

      Things had stirred inside of him. Things with cobwebs and dust on them.

      Feelings.

      The last things he wanted awakened within him were feelings. And the sooner this woman was out of his hair, the better.

      Her Good Fortune

      MARIE FERRARELLA

      To Patience Smith, my Guardian Angel,

      with sincerest thanks

      Books by Marie Ferrarella in Miniseries

      ChildFinders, Inc.

      A Hero for All Seasons IM #932

      A Forever Kind of Hero IM #943

      Hero in the Nick of Time IM #956

      Hero for Hire IM #1042

      An Uncommon Hero Silhouette Books

      A Hero in Her Eyes IM #1059

      Heart of a Hero IM #1105

      Baby’s Choice

      Caution: Baby Ahead SR #1007

      Mother on the Wing SR #1026

      Baby Times Two SR #1037

      The Baby of the Month Club

      Baby’s First Christmas SE #997

      Happy New Year—Baby! IM #686

      The 7lb., 2oz. Valentine Yours Truly

      Husband: Optional SD #988

      Do You Take This Child? SR #1145

      Detective Dad World’s Most Eligible Bachelors

      The Once and Future Father IM #1017

      In the Family Way Silhouette Books

      Baby Talk Silhouette Books

      An Abundance of Babies SE #1422

      Like Mother, Like Daughter

      One Plus One Makes Marriage SR #1328

      Never Too Late for Love SR #1351

      The Bachelors of Blair Memorial

      In Graywolf’s Hands IM #1155

      M.D. Most Wanted IM #1167

      Mac’s Bedside Manner SE #1492

      Undercover M.D. IM #1191

      The M.D.’s Surprise Family. IM #1653

      Two Halves of a Whole

      The Baby Came C.O.D. SR #1264

      Desperately Seeking Twin Yours Truly

      * The Reeds

      Callaghan’s Way IM #601

      Serena McKee’s Back in Town IM #808

      The Fortunes of Texas: Reunion

      Her Good Fortune SE #1665

      The Cameo

      Because a Husband Is Forever SE #1671

      Those Sinclairs

      Holding Out for a Hero IM #496

      Heroes Great and Small IM #501

      Christmas Every Day IM #538

      Caitlin’s Guardian Angel IM #661

      The Cutlers of the Shady Lady Ranch

      (Yours Truly titles)

      Fiona and the Sexy Stranger

      Cowboys Are for Loving

      Will and the Headstrong Female

      The Law and Ginny Marlow

      A Match for Morgan

      A Triple Threat to Bachelorhood SR #1564

      * McClellans & Marinos

      Man Trouble SR #815

      The Taming of the Teen SR #839

      Babies on His Mind SR #920

      The Baby Beneath the Mistletoe SR #1408

      * The Alaskans

      Wife in the Mail SE #1217

      Stand-In Mom SE #1294

      Found: His Perfect Wife SE #1310

      The M.D. Meets His Match SE #1401

      Lily and the Lawman SE #1467

      The Bride Wore Blue Jeans SE #1565

      * The Pendletons

      Baby in the Middle SE #892

      Husband: Some Assembly Required SE #931

      The Mom Squad

      A Billionaire and a Baby SE #1528

      A Bachelor and a Baby SD #1503

      The Baby Mission IM #1220

      Beauty and the Baby SR #1668

      Cavanaugh Justice

      Racing Against Time IM #1249

      Crime and Passion IM #1256

      Internal Affair Silhouette Books

      Dangerous Games IM #1274

      The Strong Silent Type SE #1613

      Cavanaugh’s Woman SE #1617

      In Broad Daylight IM #1315

      Alone in the Dark IM #1327

      Dangerous Disguise IM #1339

      MARIE FERRARELLA

      This RITA® Award-winning author has written over one hundred and thirty books for Silhouette, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide.

      Pssst, have you heard?

      They’re baaack!

      Silhouette Special Edition presents three brand-new stories about the famous—and infamous!—Fortunes of Texas. Juicy scandals, heart-stopping suspense, love, loss… What else would you expect from the fabulous Fortunes?

      Beginning in February 2005, read all about straitlaced CEO Jack Fortune and feisty Gloria Mendoza in RITA® Award-winning author Marie Ferrarella’s Her Good Fortune, Special Edition #1665….

      Then, in March, Gloria’s tell-it-like-it-is older sister, Christina Mendoza, finds herself falling hard for boss Derek Rockwell’s charming ways, in Crystal Green’s A Tycoon in Texas, Special Edition #1670….

      Finally, watch as youngest sister Sierra tries desperately to ignore her budding feelings for her best friend—and emotional opposite—Alex Calloway, in Stella Bagwell’s April installment In a Texas Minute, Special Edition #1677….

      The Fortunes of Texas: Reunion

      The price of privilege. The power of family.

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Epilogue

      Prologue

      “A ll right, what’s wrong?”

      Maria Mendoza looked up from the items she was straightening on the counter. On it was displayed a multitude of skeins, her latest shipment of angora yarn. The veritable rainbow of colors appeared as cheerful as she was sad. Maria had hoped that keeping busy in the shop would dispel the darkness that insisted on dwelling inside of her. After all, this was her shop and it had become successful beyond her wildest expectations.

      But none of that did anything to lift her mother’s mood.

      “What makes you think something’s wrong?” With effort, she put on the best face she could for the dark-haired woman who had entered the shop.

      Rosita Perez, her cousin and dearest friend in the whole world, frowned. “You and I have known one another for more years than I will willingly admit to anyone except for Reuben,” she said, referring to her husband. “I know when there’s something wrong with you. You look as if you’ve lost your best friend.” Rosita, older by four years but shorter by several inches, picked up a skein, as if debating whether she needed or wanted more wool, then replaced it. “And as far as I know I’m still breathing.”

      Maria shook her head. “No, not my best friend, my daughters.” Then, because Sierra still lived within Red Rock’s city limits, she clarified, “Christina and Gloria,” although there was no need. Rosita was as aware of the girls’ location as she was.

     
    Rosita placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Maria, this isn’t exactly anything new. The girls have been gone five years—”

      “Exactly.” Maria sighed, struggling against the overwhelming sadness. “Five years. With no end in sight. This is not why I became a mother, Rosita, to hope for an occasional word from my daughters.” She splayed her hand over her chest. “There’s a hole in my heart.”

      “You’ve still got Sierra and Jorge close by,” Rosita pointed out. She tactfully omitted mentioning Roberto, who’d moved to Denver, the same city that Gloria had chosen to disappear to.

      “And a hole in my heart,” Maria repeated. Even if she’d had a dozen children, she’d still feel the lack of the two who had left. Roberto returned frequently, Gloria and Christina did not.

      Rosita shrugged, spreading her hands wide. “So, plug it.”

      Maria blew out a breath. Her cousin made the situation sound so simple. “How?”

      Rosita wandered from display to display within Stocking Stitch, which was what Maria had chosen to call her store. “Get the girls to come home.”

      Maria’s impatience continued to grow. She stepped in front of her cousin before Rosita could move to yet another display. “Again, how?”

      Rosita shook her head. “I have never known you to be slow with ideas, ’Ria. You could throw a party.”

      Of course, how could she not have thought of that? Jose would cook, as he always insisted on doing, and she could be the hostess. Nothing made her happier than to have everyone home, under one roof. Maria smiled. “A big party.”

      “A big family party,” Rosita agreed.

      The smile faded from Maria’s lips. She was deluding herself. “But the girls will pass when I ask them to fly out. This thing between them…” She had never gotten all the details, but it wasn’t a stretch for her to guess at what was going on. Christina, her oldest, and Gloria, her wild one, had had a falling out. Most likely over a man. “There’re bad feelings.”

      Rosita remained unfazed. The two had spent many hours talking about their children. “So? Come up with something to block out these bad feelings.”

      A smile took hold of Maria’s lips, melting away the years. By everyone’s standards, she was still a very handsome woman. “I could tell them that their father’s had a heart attack. They’ll come rushing back for that.”

      “They’ll come rushing to the hospital,” Rosita pointed out. “That’s where they’ll expect to see him if he’s had a heart attack.”

      Maria nodded. Rosita had a point. “Chest pains, then,” Maria amended. “We’ll hold a family reunion and I’ll tell the girls that if they miss this one, I don’t know if their father will be here for the next one.” She looked at her cousin, a sunny smile on her lips. “What do you think?” she asked as she picked up a pad and pen from the counter.

      “I think that I’m happy we’re friends and not competitors.”

      But Maria didn’t hear her. She was busy making notes to herself for the party she and her husband were about to throw.

      Chapter One

      L ike an outsider staring through a one-way mirror, Gloria Mendoza Johansen looked slowly around at the people milling about and talking in her parents’ spacious living room. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

      Just like the old days, she thought.

      There were people in every room of the house, confined inside rather than spilling out onto the patio and the grounds beyond because of the cold weather. February in Red Rock, Texas, left its mark. At times raw, it could leech into your very bones.

      But inside the house, everything was warm, cozy. The way she had once thought the world was. But she’d learned differently.

      As she floated from place to place, observing, hesitating to join in, she twirled the stem of her glass. A wineglass to hide the fact that she was drinking seltzer instead of something alcoholic.

      Because she was one.

      A recovering alcoholic, to be exact. Except that alcoholics never really recovered, she thought wryly. They were doomed to an eternal dance, always careful to avoid the very thing that they would always, on some level, crave. A drink. But she had been sober two years now and she was determined to remain that way.

      Nodding and smiling, she didn’t pause to talk to people who looked inclined to engage her in conversation. She was still picking her time, taking it all in. It felt strange coming home. In part, it was as if she’d stepped into a time warp and five years had just melted away, never having passed.

      But they had passed.

      They’d left their mark on her in so many ways. Too many for her to think about now. Besides, there really was no point.

      Go forward, don’t look back.

      It was something she told herself almost daily, a mantra she all but silently chanted within the boundaries of her mind. And now, finally, she was beginning to adhere to it.

      “They’re your family. They won’t bite, Gloria. Mingle.”

      Her mother. She’d caught the scent of her mother’s perfume a beat before the older woman had said anything.

      Gloria glanced over her shoulder at the diminutive woman. At sixty-two, Maria Mendoza still had the same figure that had first caught Jose Mendoza’s eye, no mean feat after five children. She was wearing her shoulder-length black hair up tonight. The silver streaks added to the impression of royalty, which was in keeping with the way she and the others had viewed her when they’d been children. It was her mother who had summoned her like the queen mother to return home.

      Gloria smiled to herself now. Her mother had no idea that she’d been toying with that very notion herself, not for any so-called family reunion or to come rushing back to an ailing father who in her opinion looked remarkably healthy for a man supposedly battling chest pains, but to relocate. Permanently. To set up her business and her life where it had all once began.

      Home.

      She’d fled Red Rock five years ago when she’d felt her life spinning out of control, when the effects of alcohol and drugs had all but undone her. She’d thought that if she got away from everything, from her mother’s strong hand and everything that had contributed to her feeling of instability, the temptation to drink herself into oblivion and to drug her senses would disappear.

      As if.

      Because everywhere she went, she always had to take herself with her. It had taken a great deal of soul-searching and one near-fatal catastrophe—her nearly falling off a balcony while intoxicated—for her to finally face the fact that the problem was not external but internal. If she wanted her life to change, then she and not her surroundings needed to change.

      So she’d shed the poor excuse for a husband she’d acquired in her initial vain attempt to turn her life around and then scrubbed away every bad habit she’d accumulated since she was a teenager. To that end, she’d checked herself into rehab, probably the hardest thing she’d ever done, and prepared to begin from scratch. And to learn to like herself again.

      She knew the process was going to be slow. And it had been. Like molasses rolling downhill in January. But every tiny headway she made was also fulfilling. And as she grew stronger, more stable, more certain, she realized that she wanted to return to a place where people—most people, at any rate—liked her.

      She’d wanted to return home.

      And home was her parents. It was also her sisters, but that hurdle she hadn’t managed to take yet. When she’d left, she’d left her relationships with them, especially her older sister, Christina, in shambles.

      She still had to do something about that.

      One step at a time, Gloria cautioned herself.

      She’d gotten everywhere else so far and she’d get there, too. Just maybe not tonight. She’d already seen her sisters, both of them, but from a distance. And that was what she intended on keeping tonight: her distance.

      The same height as her mother, except that she was wearing heels that made her almost two inches taller, Gloria inclined her head toward the older woman. “Papa looks terrific for a man who�
    ��s had a heart attack,” she commented, not bothering to keep the smile from her lips.

      “Chest pains,” Maria corrected, as if the reason she’d given both her older girls had not been a creative fabrication. “I said he’d had chest pains.”

      Gloria could feel her brown eyes fill with humor as she looked at her mother—and saw right through her. “More like indigestion maybe?”

      Maria shrugged her shoulders, dismissing the topic. It was obvious that her mother was not about to insist on the lie. It had done its work. It had brought her home. “He wanted you here as much as I did.” Maria fixed her with a look that spoke to her heart. “As I do.”

      There was no point in keeping her decision to herself any longer. Gloria slipped her arm around her mother’s shoulders. “Then I have something to tell you.”

      But her mother cut her off, as if she was afraid she would hear something that would spoil the moment and the party for her. “Whatever it is, I am sure it is fascinating, but you can tell me all about it after you get my shawl.”

      Gloria looked at her uncertainly. If anything, the press of bodies made the air warm, not cool. “Your shawl?”

      “Yes, I left it in the den.” Already turning in that direction, she placed her hands on her daughter’s back and gave her a little initial push to start her on her way. “Get it for me, please.”

      Gloria paused, then shrugged in compliance. Going to get her mother’s shawl gave her an excuse to withdraw for a moment. Just because she’d made up her mind to uproot her life for the second time in five years and come back home didn’t mean that the idea didn’t make her just the slightest bit uneasy. She supposed it was because she kept thinking about that old line she remembered from her high school English class. Some author, Wolfe? Maybe Hardy? Whoever it was had said you couldn’t go home again.

      She prayed it was just a handy title for a book and not a prophecy.

     


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