{"product_id":"cover-of-night-isbn-9780345486516","title":"Cover of Night","description":"\u003cb\u003eFor breathless action, gripping suspense, and intense romance, bestselling author  Linda Howard never misses a beat—and her thrilling new novel will have your heart  racing. \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e In the charming rural town of Trail Stop, Idaho, accessible to the outside  world by only a single road, young widow Cate Nightingale lives peacefully with her  four-year-old twin boys, running a bed-and-breakfast. Though the overnight guests  are few and far between—occasional hunters and lake fishermen—Cate always manages  to make ends meet with the help of the local jack-of-all-trades, Calvin Harris, who  can handle everything from carpentry to plumbing. But Calvin is not what he seems,  and Cate’s luck is about to run out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e One morning, the B\u0026amp;B’s only guest inexplicably  vanishes, leaving behind his personal effects. A few days later Cate is shocked when  armed men storm the house, demanding the mystery man’s belongings. Fearing for her  children’s lives, Cate agrees to cooperate—until Calvin saves the day, forcing the  intruders to scatter into the surrounding woods. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The nightmare, however, is just  beginning. Cate, Calvin, and their entire community find themselves cut off and alone  with no means to call for help as the threat gathers intensity and first blood is  drawn.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e With their fellow residents trapped and the entire town held hostage, Cate  and Calvin have no choice but to take the fight to their enemies under the cover  of night. While reticent Cal becomes a fearless protector, Cate makes the most daring  move of her life . . . into the very heart of danger.Linda Howard is the award-winning author of many New York Times bestsellers, including Killing Time, To Die For, Kiss Me While I Sleep, Cry No More, Dying to Please, Open Season, Mr. Perfect, All the Queen’s Men, Now You See Her, Kill and Tell, and Son of the Morning. She lives in Alabama with her husband and two golden retrievers.The guest who was staying in room 3 of Nightingale’s Bed and Breakfast,  which Cate Nightingale privately thought of as the He-Man room because it  was almost unrelievedly masculine, stopped in the doorway of the dining  room, then almost   immediately stepped back out of sight. Most of the patrons who were  enjoying Cate’s morning offerings didn’t even notice the man’s brief  appearance; those who did probably didn’t think anything about his abrupt  departure. People here in Trail Stop, Idaho, tended to mind their own  business, and if one of her guests wasn’t in the mood for company while he  ate, that was fine with them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Cate herself noticed him only because she was bringing in a platter of  sliced ham from the kitchen at the same time, and the kitchen door was  directly opposite the open hall doorway. She made a mental note to go  upstairs the first chance she got and see if he—his name was Layton,  Jeffrey Layton—wanted her to bring up a breakfast tray. Some guests didn’t  like eating with strangers, plain and simple. Taking a tray up wasn’t  anything unusual.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Nightingale’s B and B had been open for almost two years. The Bed part of  the business was often slow, but Breakfast was booming. Opening her dining  room to the public for breakfast had been a happy accident. Instead of  having one large dining table where everyone would sit together—assuming  all five of her   guest rooms were occupied at the same time, which had never happened—she  had placed five small tables, each seating four, in the dining room so  that her guests could eat in relative privacy if they wanted. Folks in the  little community had quickly realized that Nightingale’s offered some fine  eating, and before she knew it, people were asking if it was okay if they  stopped by for coffee in the mornings, and maybe for one of her blueberry  muffins as well.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    As a newcomer she wanted to fit in, so because she had the extra seats,  she said yes, even though mentally she had groaned at the thought of the  added expense. Then, when they tried to pay her, she had no idea what to  charge, because the cost of breakfast was included in the room rental; so  she’d been forced to hand-print a menu with prices and post it on the side  door, which most of the locals used instead of walking around to the front  of the big old house. Within a month she’d squeezed a sixth table into the  dining room, bringing her total seating capacity to twenty-four. Sometimes  even that wasn’t enough, especially if she had guests in residence. It  wasn’t unusual to see men leaning against a wall while they drank their  coffee and munched on muffins, if all the seats were taken.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Today, however, was Scone Day. Once a week she baked scones instead of  muffins. At first the community folk, mostly from ranch and lumberjack  stock, had looked askance at the “fancy biscuits,” but the scones had  quickly become a favorite. She had tried different flavors, but the  vanilla was a runaway favorite because it went well with whatever jam the  customer preferred.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Cate set the platter of fried ham down in the middle of a table, exactly  halfway between Conrad Moon and his son so that neither could accuse her  of playing favorites. She had made that mistake once, putting a platter  closer to Conrad, and since then the two had kept up a running commentary  about whom she liked best. Gordon, the younger Moon, would be joking, but  Cate had an uneasy feeling that Conrad was looking for a third wife and  thought she’d fill the position just fine. She thought otherwise, and made  certain she never gave him any accidental encouragement with the ham  placement.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Looks good,” Gordon drawled, as he did every day, stretching out his fork  to capture a slice.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Better’n good,” Conrad added, unable to let Gordon top him in the  compliment department.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Thank you,” she said as she hurried away, not giving Conrad a chance to  add anything else. He was a nice man, but he was about her father’s age,  and she wouldn’t have picked him even if she weren’t too busy to even  think about starting to date.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    As she passed by the Bunn double coffeemaker, she automatically checked  the level of coffee in the pots, and paused to start a fresh batch. The  dining room was still full, and people were lingering longer this morning.  Joshua Creed, a rancher and hunting guide, was there with one of his  clients; folks always hung around when Mr. Creed was there, just to talk  to him. He had an aura of leadership, of authority, that people naturally  responded to. She’d heard he was retired from the military, and she could  believe it; he radiated command, from his sharp, narrow gaze to the square  set of his jaw and shoulders. He didn’t come in very often, but when he  did, he was usually the center of respectful attention.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The client, a handsome dark-haired man she judged to be in his late  thirties, was just the sort of outsider she liked the least. He was  obviously well off, if he could afford Joshua Creed, and though he was  dressed in jeans and boots like most of the people in the room, he made  certain, in some subtle and some not-so-subtle ways, that everyone knew he  was Someone Important despite his show of camaraderie. For one thing, he’d  rolled up his shirtsleeves and kept flashing the thin, diamond-set watch  on his left wrist. He was also just a shade too loud, a shade too hearty,  and he kept mentioning his experiences on a game hunt in Africa. He even  gave everyone a geography lesson, explaining where Nairobi was. Cate  managed to refrain from rolling her eyes at his assumption that local was  synonymous with ignorant. Weird, maybe, but not ignorant. He also made a  point of explaining that he hunted wild animals mostly to photograph them,  and though on an emotional level Cate approved of that, her common sense  whispered that he was just saying it to give himself an out in case he  didn’t kill anything. If he was any kind of photographer, she’d be  surprised.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    As she hurried on to the kitchen, she wondered just when she’d started  looking at newcomers as “outsiders.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The dividing line between her life before and her life now was so sharply  defined that sometimes she felt as if she weren’t even the same person.  There hadn’t been a gradual change, giving her time to analyze and  process, to slowly grow into the woman she was now; instead there had been  jagged breaks, abrupt upheavals. The period between Derek’s death and her  decision to move to Idaho was a steep, narrow valley into which sunshine  had never reached. Once she and the boys had arrived here, she’d been so  busy getting the B and B open and settling in that she hadn’t had much  time to worry about being an outsider herself. Then, almost before she  knew it, she was as much part of the warp and weave of the little  community as she ever had been in Seattle; more, even, because Seattle was  like all big cities, filled with strangers and everyone moving in  individual little bubbles. Here, she literally knew every soul—all  seventy-six of them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Just before she reached the kitchen door, it opened, and Sherry Bishop  stuck her head out, a quick look of relief crossing her face when she saw  Cate approaching.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “What’s wrong?” Cate asked as she rushed through the door. She looked  first to the kitchen table, where her four-year-old twins, Tucker and  Tanner, were industriously digging into their   cereal, but the boys were sitting on their booster chairs exactly where  she had left them. They chattered and giggled and squirmed, as usual; all  was right in their world. Rather, Tucker chattered, and Tanner listened.  She couldn’t help worrying because Tanner talked so little, but their  pediatrician hadn’t seemed alarmed. “He’s fine,” Dr. Hardy had said. “He  doesn’t need to talk because Tucker is talking for both of them. He’ll  talk when he has something to say.” Since Tanner was completely normal in  every other way, including comprehension, she had to assume the  pediatrician was right—but she still worried. She couldn’t help it; she  was a mother.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “A pipe burst under the sink,” Sherry said, sounding harassed. “I turned  off the valve, but we need the water back on fast. The dishes are piling  up.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Oh, no.” Other than the obvious difficulty of having no water to cook or  wash dishes with, another problem loomed even larger: her mother, Sheila  Wells, was en route from Seattle, for a weeklong visit, and was due in  that afternoon. Since her mother wasn’t happy about Cate and the twins  leaving Seattle to begin with, Cate could just imagine her comments about  the area’s remoteness and lack of modern conveniences should there not be  any water.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    It was always something; this old house seemed to need almost constant  maintenance and repair, which she supposed was par for the course with old  houses. Still, her finances were stretched to the breaking point; she  could use just one week in which nothing went wrong. Maybe next week, she  thought with a sigh.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    She picked up the kitchen phone and from memory dialed the number of  Earl’s Hardware Store.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Walter Earl himself answered, catching the phone on the first ring as he  usually did. “Hardware.” He didn’t need further identification, since  there was only one hardware store in town, and he was the only one who  answered the phone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Walter, this is Cate. Do you know where Mr. Harris is working today? I  have a plumbing emergency.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Mistuh Hawwis!” Tucker crowed, having caught the name of the local  handyman. Excited, he banged his spoon against the table, and Cate stuck  her finger in her ear so she could hear what Walter said. Both boys were  staring at her in delight, quivering with anticipation. The community  handyman was one of their favorite people, because they were fascinated by  his tools and he didn’t mind if they played with the wrenches and hammers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Calvin Harris didn’t have a phone, but he customarily stopped by the  hardware store every morning to pick up whatever supplies he would need  for the day’s work; so Walter usually knew where he could be found. When  she had first moved here, Cate had been taken aback that someone wouldn’t  have a phone in this day and age, but now she was accustomed to the system  and didn’t think anything of it. Mr. Harris didn’t want a phone, so he  didn’t have a phone. Big deal. The community was so small, finding him  wasn’t a problem.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Cal’s right here,” Walter said. “I’ll send him your way.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Thanks,” said Cate, glad she didn’t have to hunt Mr. Harris down. “Could  you ask him what time he thinks he can get here?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Walter’s voice rumbled as he relayed the question, and she heard a softer,  indistinct mumble that she recognized as Mr. Harris’s voice.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Walter’s voice sounded clearly through the phone. “He said he’ll be there  in a few minutes.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Saying good-bye and hanging up, Cate breathed a sigh of relief. With any  luck the problem would be minor and the water would soon be on again, with  minimal impact on her finances. As it was, she needed Mr. Harris’s fix-it  genius so often she was beginning to think she would come out better to  offer him free room and board in exchange for repairs. He lived in a room  over the feed store, and while it might be bigger than any of her  bedrooms, he still had to pay for it, plus she could throw in meals. She  would lose a bedroom to rent, but it wasn’t as if the bed-and-breakfast  had ever been filled to capacity. What held her back was the slightly  unwelcome prospect of having someone permanently in the house with her and  the twins. As busy as she was during the day, she wanted to keep the  nights just for them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Mr. Harris was so shy, though, she could easily see him mumbling something  after supper and disappearing into his room, not to be seen again until  the morning. But what if he didn’t? What if the boys wanted to be with him  instead of her? She felt small and petty for worrying about such a thing,  but—what if they did? She was the center of their young lives, and she  didn’t know if she could give that up yet. Eventually she would have to,  but they were just four, and all she had left of Derek.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Well?” Sherry prompted, her brows raised as she waited for news, good or  bad.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “He’s coming right over.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Caught him before he got started on another job, then,” said Sherry,  looking as relieved as Cate felt.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Cate looked at the boys, who were both sitting watching her, their spoons  held suspended. “You two need to finish your cereal, or you won’t be able  to watch Mr. Harris,” she said sternly. That wasn’t exactly the truth,  since Mr. Harris would be right there in the kitchen with them, but they  were four; what did they know?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “We’ll huwwy,” Tucker said, and both resumed eating with more energy than  precision.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Hurry,” Cate said, emphasizing the r sound.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Hurry,” Tucker obediently repeated. He could say the sound when he wanted  to, but when he was distracted—which was often—he fell back into babyish  speech patterns. He talked so much; it was as if he didn’t take the time  to properly say the words. “Mistuh Hawwis is coming,” he told Tanner, as  if his brother didn’t know. “I’m gonna play with the dwill.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Drill,” Cate corrected. “And you will not. You may watch him, but leave  the tools alone.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    His big blue eyes filled with tears, and his lower lip trembled. “Mistuh  Hawwis lets us play with them.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “That’s when he has time. He’ll be in a hurry today, because he has  another job to do when he leaves here.”By the author of Up Close and Dangerous; New York Times bestseller","brand":"Ballantine Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46305425162469,"sku":"NP9780345486516","price":8.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780345486516.jpg?v=1767724189","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/cover-of-night-isbn-9780345486516","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}