I’m a day late sharing the news. Heart of Gold is here! You can read it right now.

Back when I planned this release, I thought: “Oh, it’ll be fun to have the book come out on my birthday.” I didn’t think about the busyness of having extra hugs and my kiddos underfoot to make my protein shake for breakfast and that special handmade card that made my morning so special.

Which means I forgot to send you this note to let you know that Tom and Ida’s love story is here! Here’s a short excerpt:

Ida followed Tom, with his awkward shuffling gait, down the hall.
She heard movement behind her and knew that at least one of her brothers was following.
Tom stopped in the middle of the hallway, looking between the multiple doors. No one had shown him to his room yet.
“You're on the left." There were two doors on the left. He reached for the first, and she said, "The other one."
"Goodnight," he muttered before he pushed in through the door. He was so slow that it was no effort at all to follow him in.
"Ida," her brother warned. It was Oscar, not Ricky, like she’d thought. But a glance past her oldest brother and she saw Ricky hovering just behind.
She didn’t need to be coddled. "I need to check his wound. Maxwell can do it tomorrow, but for tonight it'll have to be me. I'll leave the door open." Maxwell had gone home earlier because Hattie wasn’t feeling well.
Oscar looked uncertain, and Ricky bunched up beside him.
“He’s incapacitated. He can barely move. I'll leave the door open," she repeated. And her brothers had better stay on the other side of it.
Inside the bedroom, Tom looked at the bed with its quilted cover. Or maybe he was eyeing the window. After years of the house settling, that one stuck. He would never get it open with one hand, not without raising enough noise to wake the entire house. Mama had probably put him in this room for that reason.
"I'd like to go to bed now." He didn't look at her.
She knew he’d heard her speak to her brother. "After I've checked your bandage."
He turned toward her and lifted his shirt with his good hand, his movements quick and almost violent. But she wasn’t frightened of him. He’d had opportunities to take advantage, when she was trapped with him and the other outlaws. He hadn’t taken them then, and her brothers were nearby now.
She would rather he were lying down, but she didn't argue, only stepped closer. His skin was warm under her fingertips. "What happened back there?"
He shook his head, his chin set at a stubborn angle.
She’d heard Ricky’s words and how Tom had responded. Not everyone has the freedom to make those kind of decisions.
Had the conversation really upset him enough to stomp off? Ricky hadn’t been particularly kind, but with all they’d been through, she’d never seen Tom have an emotional reaction like that. Not even when he’d first been in Walt’s custody. Tom had seemed relaxed then, even bored.
Ricky’s words couldn't have set him off so badly that his self-control slipped.
“How tender is it?" she asked, pressing on his side around the outer edges of the bandage.
"Ow!" He twisted slightly and then must've tweaked his ribs because he inhaled sharply. “Of course it's still tender if you jab it like that!”
She looked up at him in the darkened room—darkened because she hadn't thought to grab a candle—and saw the muscle jumping in his cheek.
“If you’re in pain, I need to know."
His eyes glittered down at her before he backed away from her touch and paced toward the window. He ran one hand through his hair.
She had never seen him agitated like this. "What's going on?"
“Is that newspaper recent? The one you put out on the table."
The newspaper? What did the newspaper have to do with anything? "I think it was from yesterday. Why?"
He leaned against the wall. "It had our names in it. It was some kind of article about how you'd been rescued and me captured."
"I don't understand."
"My brothers will see it." He spat the words.
"It’s the local paper," she said. “From town.”
"So it is, but your big-shot brother-in-law is here. I heard someone say he’s in the newspaper business. What’s to keep him from running the story in his big Boston newspaper? Or anywhere else. Everyone wants to print stories about the Seymour gang. And if it gets printed more widely? My brothers will be coming here. Sooner rather than later.”
“You already said they were coming." Her voice was shaking now.
His face went carefully blank. “I’m sure they are.”
Was he? Or had he said it only to make her afraid? Walt was right. Tom had manipulated her back at the jailhouse. Had he wanted to end up here, at her parents’ home?
He must’ve seen her anger bubbling up. He stepped closer to her. She waved him off, as if that would stop him. "You said—”
“What I said was true. If they know I’m alive, they’ll come for me. They think we know where the gold is, remember?”
Because he’d told them that she knew where the loot was.
She began to tremble and started to step away, but he rested his good hand on her wrist and held fast.
"I thought we were friends," she hissed. She heard rustling in the hallway and remembered her brothers were just outside.
His teeth flashed in the dim light. "I don't know if I could ever be friends with you."
She saw his intentions when he dipped his head toward her. He was going to kiss her. All she had to do was take one step back. Or call out for her brothers.
But the combination of all of it—her fear, the snatches of vulnerability she'd seen in him today, his warmth… She moved toward him instead of away. His lips covered hers in a kiss that was both tender and desperate.

Until next time, happy reading.

-Lacy