The Doubting Heart
Shelby Holt knows she can’t trust her heart, but when she meets the new ranch hand she doubts she can trust her head either. He looks uncannily like her mentor and best-friend, a man she respected and adored—a man she believes was murdered.
Chad Graham, burned by love and war, has something to hide. Posing as Chad Greene, he arrives at Wildhorse Pass to look into the woman making wild claims about the death of his cousin, Michael. Is she telling the truth or is she just after a big payday from his wealthy family?
Despite their deepening distrust, a sensual attraction simmers between Shelby and Chad. The closer they get to answers—and to each other—the closer they get to danger…and to a killer who will stop at nothing to avoid discovery.
Get The Doubting Heart to see if Shelby and Chad are doomed to the same fate as Michael.
The Reviews Are In!
Readers’ Crown Finalist
“This is another fast moving, page turning tale….Gayle has a delicate touch with her character’s damaged psyches…she crafts women who become stronger and independent.” — The Muse Unleashed
“There are always layers of secrets that unfold slowly to build up tension among its readers. So just when I thought that I had it figured out, the author threw something new at me.” — b00kr3vi3ws
An Excerpt from The Doubting Heart
Her shift officially ended over an hour ago and Shelby Holt was anxious to take full advantage of the few hours of daylight remaining.
The sun had finally reappeared after an unusually prolonged period of rain, and the air was filled with the sweet, pungent turpentine aroma of sagebrush. All around cacti were in bloom.
She didn’t slow down to appreciate the sights and smells of southern New Mexico’s late spring splendor. But the broad, naked back bent over the water trough? Surely, she could spare a moment to stop and appreciate that.
Shelby lowered her gaze, allowing it to linger on his hips, admiring the way the faded denim gently hugged the firm, rounded buttocks before falling over what she imagined were strong, powerful thighs. Then he raised his head and she was treated to a glorious view of glistening droplets of water coursing down his back, past where his waist narrowed, to disappear beneath the waistband of his jeans.
Wow! The word reverberated through her mind and her skin glowed warmly at the sight. She smiled, bemused by her reaction to the unknown man.
Well, it has been a while and there’s nothing wrong with looking.
He shook his head and turned toward her. The shimmering spray momentarily impeded her view of his face, then the mist fell away, and everything began to move in slow motion. Her gut twisted painfully, and she gasped for air.
“Hello,” he said, moving toward her, not seeming the least bit self-conscious about finding himself the object of her stare.
It can’t be! Her mind tried to make sense of what she was seeing.
He was taller, heavier—in all the right places—younger. His hair was a darker brown and longer. He was unshaven, an affectation she generally abhorred, but on him the dark stubble added an unexpected measure of sensual intrigue. The line of his chin was stronger, too, and his mouth lacked the self-deprecating smile. But his eyes… Dark swaths of eyebrow added to their intensity and she couldn’t look away from their penetrating gray stare.
Oh God, he has Michael’s eyes!