His fingers closed around an object hanging from the chain. He stepped closer and opened his hand, revealing a small silver ring. My mouth went dry, and the hair on the back of my neck prickled. I shook my head in disbelief, as I stared at the ring. As improbable as it seemed, this guy, this complete stranger, wore a ring around his neck identical to the one Grandpa Claude wore. It was a smaller version of the“Hearts As One” handfasting ring, with the same squiggly lines or runes as my grandfather called them. How could that be? Alarm bells in my brain went ding, ding, ding. I took a step back. “Who are you? Where did you get that ring?” With a dazzling smile, he dropped the ring and extended his hand toward me. “I’m Ryker Matheson.” His hand was broad and callused. I stared at it for a long moment before offering him mine. When our hands touched, I glanced up at him through my lashes. Backlit by the sun, radiant light danced in his black hair like it was touched by flames.
