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    Green Mountain Man
    Green Mountain Man
    Green Mountain Man
    Ebook178 pages2 hours

    Green Mountain Man

    By Janet Dailey

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    A handsome doctor comes home to Vermont to reclaim his first love in this Americana romance from the New York Times–bestselling author.
     
    Dr. Jonas Concannon has left his practice in New York to return to his hometown of Randolph, Vermont, a picturesque snow-covered village nestled in the glorious Green Mountains. He’s doing it all for Bridget, his first love, the woman he abandoned a decade ago. But he soon discovers she’s no longer the unquestioning innocent he left behind. A strong and resilient widow and single mother, she has her own business, a new man in her life, and an aversion to revisiting the past.
     
    Bridget has to give Jonas credit—what other man would have the nerve to try and shake her resolve after so many years and expect to win her back? While it’s true that she’s never forgotten him, Bridget’s never forgiven him either . . . even if his smile is still potent enough to warm the coldest of hearts. Now, as winter melts into spring, bitter feelings begin to thaw too. But for Bridget that means daring to be vulnerable and trust Jonas all over again.
     
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOpen Road Media
    Release dateApr 1, 2014
    ISBN9781497615618
    Green Mountain Man
    Author

    Janet Dailey

    Janet Dailey's first book -- a Harlequin romance -- was published in 1976. In the twenty years since, she has written 89 more novels and become the third largest selling female author in the world, with 300 million copies of her books sold in 19 languages in 98 countries. Her most recent bestsellers, Masquerade, Rivals, and Heiress, have all sold more than one million copies each. She is known for her strong, decisive characters, her extraordinary ability to re-create a time and place, and her unerring courage to confront important, controversial issues, like alcoholism and sexual abuse, in her stories. All of her novels are meticulously researched, an endeavor she shares with her husband, Bill Dailey. The couple met in 1963, when Janet worked as a secretary for the construction company Bill owned. The two travel extensively to scout story locations, and have visited all 50 states; these days, they are likely to fly, but miss the time when they drove cross country, a trailer attached to their car. Janet Dailey also reads voraciously about every aspect of any subject she writes about; as she remarks, ""Accuracy is important in genre fiction; you have to get it right, zero in on the real details. That's the way to make writing come alive and not irritate the readers with carelessness."" When they are not traveling, the couple spend time at their home on the shore of Lake Taneycomo in Branson, Missouri. It is the part of the country Dailey loves best, partly because, she says, ""The people around me are more interested in their problems and their lives, and that sort of keeps me in touch with reality. They think it's nice that I write, but they really couldn't care less."" Allison Janney has been featured on Broadway (Present Laughter), in films (Big Night and First Wives Club) and on television shows on all four networks.

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      Book preview

      Green Mountain Man - Janet Dailey

      Janet Dailey's Americana Series

      Dangerous Masquerade (Alabama)

      Northern Magic (Alaska)

      Sonora Sundown (Arizona)

      Valley Of the Vapours (Arkansas)

      Fire And Ice (California)

      After the Storm (Colorado)

      Difficult Decision (Connecticut)

      The Matchmakers (Delaware)

      Southern Nights (Florida)

      Night Of The Cotillion (Georgia)

      Kona Winds (Hawaii)

      The Travelling Kind (Idaho)

      A Lyon's Share (Illinois)

      The Indy Man (Indiana)

      The Homeplace (Iowa)

      The Mating Season (Kansas)

      Bluegrass King (Kentucky)

      The Bride Of The Delta Queen (Louisiana)

      Summer Mahogany (Maine)

      Bed Of Grass (Maryland)

      That Boston Man (Massachusetts)

      Enemy In Camp (Michigan)

      Giant Of Mesabi (Minnesota)

      A Tradition Of Pride (Mississippi)

      Show Me (Missouri)

      Big Sky Country (Montana)

      Boss Man From Ogallala (Nebraska)

      Reilly's Woman (Nevada)

      Heart Of Stone (New Hampshire)

      One Of The Boys (New Jersey)

      Land Of Enchantment (New Mexico)

      Beware Of The Stranger (New York)

      That Carolina Summer (North Carolina)

      Lord Of the High Lonesome (North Dakota)

      The Widow And The Wastrel (Ohio)

      Six White Horses (Oklahoma)

      To Tell The Truth (Oregon)

      The Thawing Of Mara (Pennsylvania)

      Strange Bedfellow (Rhode Island)

      Low Country Liar (South Carolina)

      Dakota Dreamin' (South Dakota)

      Sentimental Journey (Tennessee)

      Savage Land (Texas)

      A Land Called Deseret (Utah)

      Green Mountain Man (Vermont)

      Tidewater Lover (Virginia)

      For Mike's Sake (Washington)

      Wild And Wonderful (West Virginia)

      With A Little Luck (Wisconsin)

      Darling Jenny (Wyoming)

      Other Janet Dailey Titles You Might Enjoy

      American Dreams

      Aspen Gold

      Fiesta San Antonio

      For Bitter Or Worse

      The Great Alone

      Heiress

      The Ivory Cane

      Legacies

      Masquerade

      The Master Fiddler

      No Quarter Asked

      Rivals

      Something Extra

      Sweet Promise

      Tangled Vines

      Introduction

      Introducing JANET DAILEY AMERICANA. Every novel in this collection is your passport to a romantic tour of the United States through time-honored favorites by America's First Lady of romance fiction. Each of the fifty novels is set in a different state, researched by Janet and her husband, Bill. For the Daileys it was an odyssey of discovery. For you, it's the journey of a lifetime.

      Preface

      When I first started writing back in the Seventies, my husband Bill and I were retired and traveling all over the States with our home—a 34' travel trailer—in tow. That's when Bill came up with the great idea of my writing a romance novel set in each one of our fifty states. It was an idea I ultimately accomplished before switching to mainstream fiction and hitting all the international bestseller lists.

      As we were preparing to reissue these early titles, I initially planned to update them all—modernize them, so to speak, and bring them into the new high-tech age. Then I realized I couldn't do that successfully any more than I could take a dress from the Seventies and redesign it into one that would look as if it were made yesterday. That's when I saw that the true charm of these novels is their look back on another time and another age. Over the years, they have become historical novels, however recent the history. When you read them yourself, I know you will feel the same.

      So, enjoy, and happy reading to all!

      Chapter One

      THE TIRES made a crunching sound in the crusty, packed snow along the edge of the snow-plowed road. Crossing the highway overpass, Jonas Concannon felt the grip of nostalgia at the sight of the picturesque village nestled in the valley. A patchwork of roofs rose ahead of him, the snow melting where the chimneys were perched.

      The white church spire was lost against the backdrop of snow-covered mountains and fields, but Jonas located it by memory. Garlands of snow draped the trees, the full evergreens and the bare branches of the maple alike.

      At the top of the small hill just before the center of town, the traffic light turned red. The car protested the forced stop on the slope of the slippery icy street.

      Nothing has changed, Jonas muttered wryly.

      The light changed to green and the tires spun uselessly for seconds before finding the traction to pull the car over the top of the hill. His mouth was still twisted in the wry smile, an expression of neither gladness nor amusement, a touch of cynicism in its half-curved line, as he considered his comment.

      Nothing had changed, he had said. On the surface it seemed that way. Vermont had been covered with snow when he had left it ten years earlier. Everything in the village of Randolph appeared exactly as it had then.

      It isn't the same, Jonas declared grimly. Not after ten years, regardless of the way it looks.

      Turning onto the main street of downtown, he drove slowly across the bridge into the business district. His narrowed gray green eyes glimpsed familiar faces among the bundled figures walking along the sidewalks.

      Why did I come back? he demanded. Because you need a rest. He answered the question himself, and again there was the wry, twisting curve to his mouth. And if you want any more proof of that, just keep carrying on a conversation with yourself and you'll find out how much of a rest you need, Jonas Concannon! There was an empty parking space in front of the busy station and Jonas maneuvered the car into it. He had told Bob and Evelyn Tyler that he would drive up on Friday, but they wouldn't be expecting him until late afternoon. He had plenty of time to walk around the town and see the changes below the surface.

      Snow was shoveled in a mound near the curb. He had to force the door into the snow to get his long frame out of the car. His breath formed a vapory cloud as he stepped into the chilling air and he reached back into the car for the fleece-lined jacket lying on the passenger seat.

      Shrugging into it, Jonas slammed the car door and stepped over the snow pile to the sidewalk. He didn't bother to button the jacket. Instead he shoved his hands deep in the pockets to hold the front shut and began walking down the street.

      Impervious to the freezing temperature and the overcast skies, he wandered aimlessly past the stores, gazing into shop windows and at the people he met. Several people he recognized, but he made no attempt to renew acquaintances.

      A snowflake floated in the air before him, large and crystalline, and his hand reached out to catch it, triggered by a long-forgotten habit, something he used to do with Bridget. He stopped abruptly, the muscles working along his jawline as he stared at the white flake melting in his palm.

      Face it, he told himself sternly, she's why you've come back. She is why you are wandering the streets on the off chance that you'll see her. His hand closed into a tight fist, as if to crush the snowflake and the memories it evoked.

      He began walking again, more slowly, hands clenched in irritation within the pockets of his jacket. During the ten years he'd been away from Randolph, he hadn't tried to keep in touch, not after Bob had written him that first year to tell Jonas that Bridget was married.

      It was purely by accident that he'd run into Bob in Manhattan shortly before the Christmas holidays. It had been a brief reunion, with Jonas insincerely promising to come for a visit. He had never intended to come. December, January, February…then came March, and his resolve weakened. The pressures of work, Jonas had told himself, the need for a rest and a total change of scene no matter how brief.

      The line of his mouth thinned in anger at the way he had deluded himself into believing the only reason he was returning to Randolph was for rest and relaxation This past week when he had contacted Bob to let him know he was accepting his invitation, Jonas had carried the self-deception further by insisting no one know of his visit.

      A quiet weekend, Bob, that's all I want, Jonas had declared. None of your parties.

      Damn! Jonas muttered now beneath his breath, teeth clenched.

      No, he hadn't wanted any parties, no chance meeting with Bridget amidst a crowd of people, no alcohol clouding his mind when he saw her again. And that was why he was here—to see Bridget again. He cursed silently in frustration; hating the inner weakness that had brought him back.

      Pausing in front of a shop window, Jonas stared at his reflection framed in a pane partially steamed over. What was it the wise they once said? That you never quite get over your first love? Maybe he had returned to bury Bridget, he reasoned, or at least bury his image of her.

      Since he had learned she had married within a year of his leaving, he had tried to imagine her with three or four kids hanging on her skits, her slim waistline and hips gone, a frumpy housewife with rollers in her hair waiting dinner for her husband.

      Jonas didn't know the man she had married. He had even blocked the man's name from his memory. But the mere thought of that stranger lying next to Bridget, touching her silky skin, sent him into a cold rage that brought a wintry frost to his gray green eyes.

      A hand touched his shoulder. Excuse me, but aren't you—

      Jonas pivoted away. You must be mistaken, he snapped without sparing a second to identify the elderly woman.

      Long, impatient strides carried him to the end of the block. Instead of crossing the street, he turned up the side street, wanting to avoid the mainstream of traffic and people and the chance that someone else might recognize him.

      Slowing his steps, Jonas raked a hand through the thick tobacco brown of his hair. He breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with the cold air while trying to check the tide of impotent anger flowing through him.

      I need a drink, he muttered, nerves and muscles stretched taut.

      Looking around to get his bearings, he glanced briefly at the shop nearest to him. Magnetically his gaze was drawn back, caught by the gleam of chestnut hair inside the store. Fire seared through his loins, sharp and painful and white hot, his breath stolen in the shock of recognition.

      It was Bridget. He'd know that face, that profile, anywhere, even blurred by the foggy shop window. He had expected that when he saw her again after ten years, he would feel curiosity and, perhaps, the pangs of long-ago desire. Actually seeing her, he felt shaken. He hadn't anticipated this fiery leaping of the senses.

      She moved, disappearing from his view. Jonas knew he had to see her more closely without the distortion of the fogged glass. Through it, she had seemed unchanged, no different than when he had left ten years ago. He didn't want that. He wanted to see her changed into a someone he no longer loved.

      A bell tinkled above his head as he opened the door and walked in. Bridget's back was to the door, but she didn't turn around. Jonas paused inside, staring at her and feeling the years roll away.

      A bulky pullover in forest green gave an initial impression of shapelessness until his gaze slid to the smartly tailored wool slacks of winter white she wore. The slacks revealed the slenderness of her hips and the rounded firmness of her buttocks.

      Her figure hadn't changed more than an inch in ten years. She turned slightly at an angle and Jonas corrected his assessment. Not even the bulky sweater could conceal the mature fullness of her breasts jutting against the heavy knit.

      Fire spread through his veins and he swore inwardly at the desire the sight of her was arousing. It wasn't what he wanted to feel. He wanted to be indifferent, distantly amused that he had once been attracted to her. He lifted his gaze to her oval face, hardening himself against its classic beauty.

      Her complexion seemed paler, the innocence gone, only the freshness remaining. There was a strained look to her mouth, a forced curve to her lips as she smiled at the woman standing in front of her. Jonas remembered the way her hazel eyes used to sparkle with a million starry lights. When he looked at them, he found them luminous and bright but lacking that fiery glitter.

      It was a full second before he realized Bridget wasn't looking at the woman before her but staring beyond at something else. His gaze shifted to locate the object of her intense interest and encountered her image in a mirror placed in a corner so the shopkeeper could always see who entered the store.

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