Présentation de l'éditeur
A powerful novel of a man and a woman from different worlds whose passion binds them together even as it tears them apart—from the bestselling author of When Venus Fell and A Place to Call Home
There had always been MacKenzies and Colebrooks at Blue Willow, their histories entangled like the graceful branches of the rare willow trees that thrived there. Artemas Colebrook and Lily MacKenzie shared more than that history, their souls bound to each other and to the land the day the boy held tiny Lily minutes after her birth. But the tragedy that has brought Lily back to the small farm where she spent her childhood has also made Artemas’s brothers and sisters her bitter enemies. Torn between family loyalties and their shared sense of destiny, Artemas and Lily must come to terms with a childhood devotion that has turned to bittersweet desire, a passion that could destroy all they have struggled for—even Blue Willow itself.
Praise for Blue Willow
“Smith knows how to generate genuine emotion.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Smith [is] a remarkably talented prolific storyteller who creates unforgettable characters.”
—Booklist
“A moving journey into the heart and soul of enduring love.”
—Julie Garwood
Extrait
Part One
Other arms reach out to me,
Other eyes smile tenderly,
Still in peaceful dreams I see,
The road leads back to you.
Hoagy Carmichael
One
Atlanta, 1993
Money, power, respect. Artemas Colebrook looked down on the proof of all he’d achieved in thirty-eight years but saw only the desire he could never fulfill.
Six generations of Colebrook history had reached a pinnacle. The bloodlines of a poor immigrant English potter had survived more than 150 years of ambition, triumph, and scandal. A fortune lost and regained. It had begun with a handful of pure white clay in the Georgia mountains. Now, it ended and began again in the glittering, neo-Gothic splendor of Colebrook International’s new headquarters in the moneyed crescent of Atlanta’s suburbs.
He stood alone and unmoving, painfully lost in the scene below him, a tall, big-shouldered man in formal attire who had inherited a legacy of fine china to which he’d added a prosperous industrial ceramics empire. Thick black hair framed a rugged face. There was an inward elegance to him, a grace of manner that gentled the haphazardly cut cheekbones and rakish black brows. Large gray eyes were locked in brooding concentration, revealing all the strength but little of the innate kindness behind them.
The atrium of Colebrook International’s new offices plunged down from his spot on an upper balcony. A few stories below him was a masterpiece of architecture. The serpentine bridge seemed to float across a lobby packed with people. Looking down, men in tuxedos and women in beautiful evening gowns crowded the bridge. Artemas gazed past them, at more guests, at liveried servers carrying silver trays filled with hors d’oeuvres and glasses of champagne, at an orchestra playing Mozart, at the lobby’s centerpiece garden and the magnificent blue-green willow tree that dominated it.
Artemas stared at the tree and clenched his hands on the balcony’s railing. Salix cyaneus “MacKenzieii.” As a boy, he’d climbed ones so similar to it, along the MacKenzies’ creek. A blue willow. A mutant. A botanical mystery. A marvel.
One of Lily’s trees.
He waited, his chest aching with anticipation and restraint. Finally she appeared from under the willow’s delicate, draping limbs. She was laughing, her head tilted back as if by the weight of the mane of red hair drawn up in a soft, chic bundle. She was so tall, she stood out even among the luscious jungle of plants surrounding the willow, her simple black gown catching heedlessly on the fronds and branches as she strode through the greenery. Her body was rangy and full-figured, her face vibrant, fascinating, with strong features. Men scrutinized her as if she were some queenly Ama
