Unbroken Dream (Book Three of the Verbecks of Idaho)

By R.E.S. Tidmore

Daisy Lewin, a successful land developer, is on a mission to secure the farmland that her beloved grandfather used to own in Idaho. The current owner, Mr. Buller, doesn’t trust an out-of-towner like Daisy. Begrudgingly, he agrees to entertain Daisy’s offer, but on one condition: she has to live in town for two months to prove that she will preserve the beauty of the land.

Peter Verbeck, the town sheriff, lives a quiet life. When he meets Daisy, he is immediately drawn to her allure and aura. He offers to help Daisy acclimate to small-town living, and in the process, he falls madly in love. His feelings are put to the ultimate test when he discovers that he is willing to do anything to gain Daisy’s trust.

But rumors spread like wildfire in a small town, and Daisy is at the center of the gossip. Her father has been released from prison, and the mystery of his criminal ways will ruin the new life Daisy has built for herself. She must make the choice between the dream of owning her grandfather’s land or giving her heart to the man she loves.

The third book in the Verbeck of Idaho series is about following your dreams and risking everything for love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.E.S. Tidmore
• Release date: May 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9780989524384

R.E.S. Tidmore

R.E.S. Tidmore is a defective writer who writes. She has a BA and MFA in creative writing. Being dyslexic, she never thought she could make a living from writing. Writing isn’t only about dotting your i’s and crossing your t’s. It’s about storytelling, and doing it in all the best ways. She loves Jane Austen, tattoos, sarcasm, quick wit, gardening, all things Harry Potter, being a writing coach, and a happy ever after.Check out my other adult romance series: The Awakener series and the Managing Mayhem series.

Book preview

Unbroken Dream

Book 3 of the Verbecks of Idaho

by R.E.S. Tidmore

UNBROKEN DREAM

Copyright © 2015 by R.E.S. Tidmore

Ruthless Writers Publishing

All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Print (Dream Collection) ISBN: 9780989524391

Ebook ISBN: 9780989524384

Other Titles

The Awakener Series

Awaken

Oblivion

Torn

The Verbecks of Idaho

Midnight’s Dream

Delicate Dream

Unbroken Dream

Managing Mayhem

Bliss

Coming Soon!

Book 4 of the Awakener Series

Redeemed

DEDICATION

To my father-in-law, you inspired this story and series with your infectious mischievous good humor and determined spirit to push through any challenge and come out on top. Thanks for being you.

Chapter One

Daisy scanned the faces at the wedding reception in search of a short, wrinkly, bald man with a grumpy face. There was no man with that description, though there were two grumpy-looking women sitting at a table near the house. Geez. She hoped she didn’t look like that when she got old.

She scanned the area one last time for Bruce Buller, but the effort was fruitless. Frustration accosted her, as well as a pang of grief. She was hoping to speak to Mr. Buller about buying back the land her grandfather, Fred Lewin, had sold to him before she was born. It was a desire that plagued her since his death six months ago. It didn’t look as though the task would be accomplished tonight. She held fast against the sharp strike of grief that always followed thoughts of her grandfather.

The outdoor wedding had been the perfect cover to make a trip to Havencrest and casually run into Mr. Buller. What a disappointment the night had been. Daisy blew at one of her loose curls. She hated parties, though she’d looked forward to seeing Logan Miller, one of her dearest friends.

There were ten or so tables set up in a half-circle, with the bride and groom’s table at the front. Daisy noticed a middle-aged man and woman staring and pointing at her. Really! Could they be any more rude? She’d become accustomed to being at the center of gossip. She turned her back to the couple, disregarding them. They could stare. Nothing she could do about it. It wasn’t a crime.

Detaching herself from the party, Daisy walked off toward the back of the house and settled beside a magnificent willow tree. Long, thin branches with green, finger-like leaves skimmed her ivory skin as they swayed in the soft summer breeze. The sun sank behind distant mountains and cast a soft glow over the Verbeck and Miller lands. She wanted to reach out and touch the beauty of the mountains. The scent of pine, hay, and earth filled her nostrils, conjuring memories of her grandfather’s small farm in Elk View about two hours south of here. The scent was such a nice change from the stagnant air in her office building. There was more to life than work. At thirty-three, she should be enjoying life, but work was the only thing keeping her from falling apart over the return of her father and the loss of her grandfather.

Tall evergreens marched across the mountains, shoulder to shoulder. Surrounding the golden plains of the flatland, the trees held the valley captive. Logan and the Verbecks were very lucky to be blessed with such a homestead. You could hide from the world in a place like this, and that was exactly what she intended to do—if she could find Mr. Buller.

As she sipped her champagne, Daisy spotted the oldest Verbeck, Cole, spinning the new Mrs. Verbeck around the dance floor. Bethany Verbeck looked lovely in a silk-and-lace wedding gown. She had class and a subtle elegance. She was positively glowing tonight.

The couple beside them snagged her attention. It was funny to think that a gangly ranch hand could transform into such a stud. Logan Miller was having a great time with his wife, Emma, formerly Emma Verbeck. She was radiant as she glided around the dance floor with her husband, every now and then teasing her brother and his bride. Logan was a lucky man to have attained the attention of such a woman. And a doctor to boot. Daisy shook her head in amused disbelief.

A much younger Logan sprang to mind. Not having much to do over the summers she spent with her grandfather in Elk View, she’d noticed him right away out working Mr. Clay’s ranch. His property butted up against her grandfather’s small farm. The houses were less than five acres apart, so she’d snuck over to meet him. Only thirteen at the time, Logan stood tall, strong, and dirty. She’d scooted away from him because he smelled of cow poo. When her hazel eyes met his green ones, she saw that they were haunted by a deep sadness. The sadness reached into her and cut open her heart. The next day, she made it her personal mission to befriend him.

It had taken weeks of silly pranks and constant harassment from her before they became friends. Once Logan accepted her branch of friendship, he became the brother she’d never had. After that, she’d looked forward to sharing every summer that followed with Logan. A warm, silly, drunken feeling filled her up. She missed Logan more than she let herself believe, having only a few stolen moments here and there to see him after college.

She lifted her glass to toast him. Here’s to chasing unbroken dreams. She sipped her champagne. She wondered what time it was. Leaving her observation post beside the weeping willow, Daisy headed for the nearest male with a watch or phone.

Excuse me, do you have the time? she asked a gentleman in his seventies. She found it more productive to approach older men. Men her age didn’t actually listen to the words that came out of her mouth. Especially in such a form-fitting dress.

Evening. Let me see here. The man pulled up the sleeve of his blazer and shook his wrist. Looks to be about eight thirty.

Thank you so much. Sorry to have bothered you.

He gripped her hand abruptly and kissed her knuckles. A beautiful woman is never a bother.

Daisy didn’t move, and fought the urge to tug her hand away. That’s sweet. Have a good night.

She kicked her heeled feet into gear. Apparently, she was better off staying away from all men. She found what looked like a safe spot opposite the dance floor and wondered how long before she could leave without being rude. She ran a hand over her blood-red dress, pressing her matching lips. She didn’t want to offend Logan or the Verbecks for so graciously inviting her. She would give it another thirty minutes.

Just then, she felt someone’s eyes on her and when she looked up, Peter Verbeck was studying her. He wore a cool smile that radiated arrogance and confidence, exuding a male power that probably drew women in droves. Too bad it was wasted on her.

He was tall and handsome, with a beautifully proportioned body, and Daisy was by no means blind to his sensual allure. When their eyes locked, a tingling sensation fluttered down her back. What poor luck. As much as she wanted to look elsewhere, she held his gaze. She wouldn’t show a man like him that he could affect her in any way.

He watched her with a keenly observant eye and then raised his beer bottle to her. She did the same with her glass, doing her best to appear social and friendly. His handsome features sharpened and he flashed her a breathtaking smile. He made his way through the crowd around the dance floor.

Oh no! She drank the rest of her champagne. His eyes clung to her as he approached, but she refused to squirm. When a group of men slapped him on the back and tugged him into an intense conversation about who knows what, she saw his brows draw together in an agonized expression. This is my chance to escape.

She hurried off to the bar in the opposite direction toward the house. She hoped to shake Peter Verbeck off her trail by cutting through a group of men at one end of the bar, all of whom were quite a bit taller than herself. She peered over her shoulder . . . no Verbeck. Satisfied, she stepped up to the bar.

I’ll take a shot of tequila with the trimmings, she told a young, blonde female bartender, who was no doubt the reason for the crowd of men.

Her feet hurt. She peered down at the Saint Laurent Jane sandals. They were so cute with her silk Alfred Angelo dress, but both were made to be pretty, not comfortable. Keeping up appearances and maintaining a social status had