Top Journalist and corporate climber McKayla Buchanan is sent to a remote California mountain camp for inner-city, at-risk teens. Accustomed to political and high-society assignments, she is suddenly a fish out of water. At Camp In As Much, she meets eight hostile and distrustful teens, assorted volunteers, rescued horses—and Clay.

Clay Michaels is the man who founded Camp In As Much and made it the success it is now. His hope for the highly recommended journalist is to come and write a feature to send seeds out to form other camps like his nationwide one. He never considered the reporter would turn out to be a lovely woman, or for him to have such an attraction to her.

Between McKayla’s worldly experience and Clay’s strong faith, they form a partnership to help with the endless challenges of the kids.

While McKayla’s assignment is supposed to be temporary, it isn’t long before she and Clay are each wishing it could last longer. A serious situation will force McKayla to decide if she can give up her worldly ways and place her faith in the same higher source that Clay does.

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Coming Soon To: Apple

Release Date: August 24, 2026
Genre: Contemporary Romance

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Excerpt

Prologue

Elijah Mountain, CA

 

Clay Micheals sat at the kitchen table, pen in hand, his heart heavy as he wrote the letter. It was, he knew, pretty much the same as the last ones he had written every month for who knew how long now. He had lost track of how many. But something deep inside him made him continue writing and mailing them, against all hope. Or was it hope that made him do this? Maybe so. Blowing out a long, deep breath, he held the letter up against the light for a final inspection.

 

Conner,

It’s been much the same here since the last time I wrote. Been kept busy trying to keep the kids out of trouble. The things they don’t think of. I swear they remind me of you and me, back in the days when we were young and stupid sometimes.

I wish you could be here now, Conner. I really could use your help. And not just with hay bales and fences but with the kids. And honestly, I just miss you, bro.

I can’t help but think if we had a place like this when we were young, things would never have turned out like they did—for all of us, Conner. You, me, Mom and Dad and all the kids we met back then.

Well, write me when you can and remember this: the promise found in Jeremiah 29:11 “I know the plans I have for you.” Look it up one day, all right? I am sorry for so much.

 

Love, your brother,

Clay

 

He would mail it out tomorrow, he decided, folding it carefully in thirds and putting it in the envelope. Maybe one day he will get a response back.

One day.

 

Chapter One

Centurion Chronicle Headquarters

Los Angeles CA

McKayla Buchanan hit the Send button, satisfied with her latest article, the end of a good series. Proud of it, she knew her supervisor would be pleased. Maybe enough so to offer her that promotion they both knew she wanted. And deserved.

Checking her emails, she quickly determined there was nothing there important enough that required dealing with immediately. Instead, it was time for a celebration. She was going downstairs to the cafe and treat herself to a cafe mocha—her weakness. Halfway to the door, the phone rang. Todd Sullivan, her boss. He must have just read her final installment of the series and was calling to congratulate her on a great job.

Smiling broadly, she pressed the phone to her ear as she marched down the hallway to the elevators.

“Todd, don’t you just love that conclusion I sent you? It was a real killer,” she asked, laughing at her own wit, waiting for the elevator doors to open.

“Haven’t seen it yet, love,” Todd replied. “I’m calling you on another matter. Where are you?”

Love. He never called McKayla by that name unless it was super important. Her promotion?

“I’m just getting into the elevator now, heading for the downstairs cafe.”

“Great. Let’s meet there. We need to talk, love. I’ll buy you one of those mochas you like.”

Minutes later, seated at a fairly secluded table in the company cafeteria, McKayla anxiously propped her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her knuckles as she waited for her boss to order and bring their drinks.

This had to be big news. She could tell by the way he was acting from the second she stepped out of the elevator.

“So did you like the wrap up to the series I sent you? The congressman indicted for homicide?” she asked again, prompting, as he sat down and handed over her drink. Giving it a stir, she waited as he poured some sugar packets into his sweet tea and stirred it. Why else would they be here?

“You finished it already?” Todd asked, taking a sip and adding one more sugar packet. “They make this tea less and less sweet every time, it seems. I’m sure your wrap up is fine though,” he dismissed it, still trying to perfect his drink. “Something has come up. It’s big. And I want you to do it, McKayla.”

He took another sip, making her wait, something she hated to do. She took a drink from her cafe mocha, trying to look patient.

“Ah. Now that is more like sweet tea should be.” Satisfied, he returned to the matter at hand. “Now, there is this guy out of town, up in the mountains. He runs this place. A crazy sort of place.” Todd gave a silly laugh. “Part refuge for horses in need and part camp for inner city, at-risk kids. He’s calling it Camp In As Much, and it’s a huge success.”

“So?” She failed to see where this was going and why Todd was sharing it with her. This wasn’t her sort of thing.

“He’s some sort of religious guy who uses the horses as therapy to help the kids. Apparently, everyone benefits that way.”

She pushed her drink away, losing the taste for it now. “Is this the big news you wanted to share with me, Todd?”

“Yes, McKayla, it is. This guy is a huge success, and this is just the sort of thing our readers want to know about. I need to send my best to cover this guy. Find out how he’s making it all work. So I’m sending you. And since you’re done with the Congress crime wrap-up, you can leave immediately.”

“You can’t be serious? I handle diplomats and ambassadors passing out at fancy cotillions. I handle corrupt politicians and CEOs with hands in cookie jars. I handle congressmen who pay to have their estranged spouses done away with. I don’t handle religious nuts who howl at the moon in some mountain camp for kids and shovel horse poop.”

Todd narrowed his gaze, his own drink now forgotten. “I am sending you because I need someone who understands successful people. This guy, whether he howls at the moon or not, is a success at shoveling poop. So I need you to cover this and find out why.”

“Send Natalie. She likes kids and horses. This is the sort of sappy tear-jerking story she could write,” McKayla protested. He knew she liked her horses under the hood of her car.

“I am sending you. It’s final. You leave Monday morning. I’ll email you the directions and details. You are slated to stay at least three weeks or as long as it takes to find out how this guy makes it all work. Get inside his head. Find his motivation, McKayla. Find out and write me a story on it. One our readers deserve to have. He will be expecting you sometime Monday afternoon.”

She stared, shock waves rolling over her. He could not be serious. This sort of project was so far removed from her normal assignments that it was like being told she was being sent to the moon. Well, it might as well be, she supposed. Hadn’t he just said the place was up in the mountains? Out of town? Just perfect. Great.

“Oh yeah, you might go out and get yourself some blue jeans and cowboy boots. They might come in handy. Put it on your expense account,” Todd added, taking another drink of his sweet tea.

McKayla looked at him. “This isn’t fair, Todd.”

Todd gave her a long look, glanced over his shoulder and back at her, heaving a deep sigh. “Look, kid, the senior management have their eyes on you, but they aren’t sure you’re quite ready to move upstairs yet. Look at this as a way to show them you are ready for a promotion.”

His words stung, slapping her. She was surprised to feel tears building in her eyes. The senior management didn’t think she was ready yet? Surely, Todd was wrong about that. Not ready? If she stayed any longer, heard one more piercing word, she might regret it. She placed her palms on the table and drew a deep breath through her nostrils.

“Fine. In that case, have a nice weekend, Todd. I have some shopping to do.” Mustering up the finesse that she was famous for in social circles, she stood up from the table. “Thank you for the drink.”

“That’s the spirit, love. Look for my email later today.”

Ignoring him, she pulled herself together long enough to make it to the elevators. Glad to find one empty, she practically flung herself inside and slapped her hand over the third-floor button. Once the doors slid closed, she slouched in the corner, pressing one fist to her mouth as hurt and anger both warred inside her.

The promotion she felt was as good as hers might not happen at all. The senior partners were watching but doubted if she was ready. What more did they want from her? Blood? She could give them that if that would make the promotion hers. She could feel the key to her shiny new office clutched in her hand. How could Todd say they were not sure she was ready?

The doors opened at the third level, two people stood in front, waiting to enter. Straight-backed, she stepped out, smiled stiffly then headed to her office. Inside, she collected the things she would need for a few weeks. Weeks? Did she actually have to spend weeks out in the mountains? Couldn’t she hang out a couple days, ask some questions, take some pictures, come back here, and write the story? Certainly, there couldn’t be anything there so great she couldn’t get it in a couple of days? Why weeks?

Why were Todd and the senior management testing her so harshly? She thrust random things into a bag. Phone chargers, pens, breath mints, touch-up cosmetics, dental floss, pocket-sized hand sanitizer. She picked up a small box of tissues and tossed it back into the drawer then slammed the compartment shut. Tempted as she was, she refused to give in to the well of tears inside that threatened to flow over.

Packed up, she rode the elevators down to the basement garage to her car. Loading it up, she might as well get her new wardrobe before going home. Only the packing would be left.

An hour later, she was finished. She was the new owner of a pair of cowboy boots she would never normally purchase and half a dozen pair of assorted styles of blue jeans and some button-down cow girly-looking shirts. Actually, she did have a couple pair of jeans at home already, but since Todd told her to buy some, she decided to update her wardrobe and pack extra. And, if there was any redeeming grace in any of this mess, her purchases were all part of her expense report.

Leaving the corner coffee house with another cafe mocha for the road, she wondered how to break the news to Steve about her trip. They were getting serious, and he certainly would not be happy for her going off to some mountain camp for weeks. It also scrubbed the plans they had made to go to the theater next weekend. Steve’s sister had a starring role in the play, and they were all planning on going to see it and then out to dinner.

Now, thanks to this assignment, she was going to miss it.

Pulling in the driveway at home, her thoughts shifted as she spotted Steve’s car already parked in its normal spot. Leaving her new purchases and bags, she jumped out, eager to see him, needing to see him. He was sitting on her stoop, head bowed, waiting. Her steps quickened, her smile broadened, his name on her lips. Then he lifted his face to hers, and his somber expression slammed her to a halt. Her eager smile slowly faded.

“Steve, I’m so glad to see you.” She wished he would stand up so she could sweep into his arms. The distant look in his eyes paused her. “What’s wrong?” His formal demur was worrying her.

He stood up, keeping a distance between them, his expression still solemn.

“McKayla, I’m going to have to end it with you. I need to stop seeing you.”

Cold water washed over McKayla, shocking her into speechlessness. Her knees wobbled.

“I don’t understand,” she finally managed to get out, her voice sounding wooden to her ears.

Steve shrugged, stood, and moved over to his car. “It’s me. It’s not you.” Opening the door, he held up two fingers in the shape of a V then sliding inside behind the wheel. He fired up the engine, slipped his sunglasses on, backed the car out onto the street, and drove away with a loud gun of the motor.

McKayla stood in the drive, staring after him. This wasn’t happening, she told herself, wrapping her arms about her sides, suddenly cold. Steve did not just break up with her on the worse day of her life.

But apparently, he had. Despite the three pinches she inflicted on her arm and the resulting sharp pain, she was still standing alone in her driveway. And Steve was still gone up the road and out of her life. What did he mean by it was him, not her? Him what? He didn’t want to be with her any longer?

Hitting the remote lock on her car, she stumbled into the house, kicked off her heels, and sank down into her sofa, pulling her knees up to her chest, and wrapping her arms around her knees. Completely deflated, rocking back and forth, as pain and disbelief washed over her in cold, dark, ruthless waves. Somewhere in her grief, the floodgates opened, and hot tears of disappointment streaked down her cheeks.

 

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