|
|
|
Harlequin American
ISBN: 9780373752928
December 2009
Read It! - A Christmas Baby
Read It! - Marry Me, Cowboy
Buy!
|
A Cowboy Christmas
*2 Stories in 1*
A Christmas Baby
Logan Taylor gets the shock of his life when Cassidy Ortiz announces she’s pregnant…with his child! The widowed rancher wasn’t looking for another relationship, but this is Logan’s chance to be a father at last. Is he ready to risk his heart and share the most wondrous gift of all—just in time for the holidays?
Marry Me, Cowboy
Darla Baker’s determined to get her high school sweetheart out of her system once and for all. But the sexy rancher and single father isn’t letting the girl who got away…get away again. Now he’s just waiting to hear the three little words that will give them a Christmas they’ll never forget.
|
A Christmas Baby
Chapter One
"How the hell did your bull end up in my mud bog?" Logan Taylor asked his best friend and neighbor, Fletcher McFadden. Fletcher had called Logan a half hour ago requesting help. Luckily Logan had his cell phone with him in the barn where he'd been mucking out stalls.
"Danny left the gate open again." Danny was Fletcher's seven-year-old son. The kid was a handful.
Logan didn't comment on the boy's carelessness. Danny was going through a rough patch after Fletcher and the boy's mother divorced. Come to think about it, all three of them--Danny, Fletcher and himself--had seen better days. "I brought a sling," Logan said. He'd also loaded a few hay bales into the truck bed. He'd spread the hay around the edge of the bog to help the bull gain its footing after the animal was freed from the muck. He motioned to Fletcher who stood knee deep in muck. "What'd you plan to do--push the bull end over end until he rolled out of there?"
"Ha, ha. Hurry up, hoss. My feet are numb."
Logan tossed two ends of the sling through the air. A warm spell had ushered in the first week of December but a chill hung in the early-morning air and white clouds puffed from Fletcher's mouth as he struggled to work the harness beneath the ten inches of space between the bull's belly and the mud.
"You ever think about fixing this bog?" Fletcher grunted.
Granted, Logan should have filled the mud hole long ago. The problem was he didn't give a crap about much anymore. After Bethany died everything had lost its urgency. He was marking time. Waiting for something to change his life. Waiting for...just waiting.
Although Fletcher had his share of troubles recovering from a divorce and raising a son, he'd tried to drag Logan back into the world of the living after Bethany's death. Logan appreciated his friend's concern but preferred a solitary existence.
"All set." Fletcher flung the ends of the harness over the bull's body and Logan secured them to the trailer hitch on his truck.
"I can't lose this bull to a broken leg," Fletcher warned.
The McFadden's raised some of the best breeding bulls in Texas. "How much is he worth?"
"So much he ain't for sale."
Once the harness had been secured, Logan removed a pair of wire cutters from his pocket and opened the bales in the truck bed. After spreading the hay along the edge of the bog he hopped in his truck.
"Nice and easy!" Fletcher hollered.
Nice and easy was the only way to pull a two-thousand-pound hunk of beef from a muddy hole. Logan pressed the accelerator and the truck's tires dug into the earth. He checked his side mirror. Fletcher had his shoulder jammed against the bull's side, trying to coax it to move its legs.
The animal slowly toppled onto its side. Steady pressure on the gas pedal, Logan moved the truck a few feet forward. For a second the bull sank beneath the mud, only the whites of its eyes visible. Logan gave the truck a little more gas and the animal's head emerged from the muck.
"Keep going," Fletcher said. "He's almost to the edge."
The diesel truck engine groaned in protest but finally the bull reached solid ground. Logan dragged its body a few more feet until the bull lay on the hay, then he cut the engine and rushed to untie the harness from the hitch before the animal became tangled.
The bull's sides heaved with exertion but after Logan slapped its hind quarters, the animal scrambled to its feet, slipping once but remaining upright. He trotted off, bellowing in disgust.
"You coming out of there?"
"I can't feel my legs," Fletcher complained.
Logan grinned.
"Give me your hand."
"Sorry, buddy. No can do." Logan wasn't about to risk falling into the bog. "Here." He threw one end of the harness and Fletcher snatched it mid-air, then Logan tied the other end to the trailer hitch.
"Take it easy. These are my favorite boots."
Not for long, buddy. Logan hopped into the front seat and revved the engine. "Hang on!" As soon as Fletcher tightened his grip, Logan pressed the gas--hard--and the truck exploded forward. Fletcher flew through the air, sans boots, and landed on his belly at the edge of the bog. When he tried to stand, Logan hit the gas again and dragged Fletcher through the hay.
"God Damn it, Logan!" Fletcher released the ends of the harness and attempted to stand. His sock feet went out from under him and he went down a second time.
"You look like the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz," Logan called
out the truck window.
"Think that's funny, eh?"
Logan hopped out of the truck and went to help his friend stand. Fletcher grasped Logan's wrist and yanked. Logan stumbled forward, bumping Fletcher and the two men toppled over like felled trees into the muck.
From there things went downhill faster than a California mudslide.
"You shithead." Fletcher flung a clump of mud at Logan's chest.
"You would have done the same thing if it had been me standing in that bog." Logan landed a mud ball against the side of Fletcher's head.
A mud-slinging battle ensued until every inch of their clothing was covered in smelly muck. "Enough!" Logan hollered, collapsing on the embankment, sides heaving with laughter.
Fletcher fell down next to him, chuckling. "Man I haven’t heard you laugh like that in a hell of a long time."
His friend's words sobered Logan. He struggled to catch his breath. Now that the fun was over, his body felt chilled.
A long silence stretched between the men, then Fletcher spoke.
"You think I should have given Sandi a second chance--for Danny's sake?"
The two men were thirty years old, their birthdays two weeks apart in July. They'd been friends since kindergarten and had stuck by each other through thick and thin. Through spousal divorce and death.
"Did Sandi want a second chance?" Logan asked.
"No."
"Did you want a second chance with her?" Logan asked.
"No." Fletcher released a loud gust of air from his lungs. "If Bethany had cheated on you, would you have divorced her?"
"I don't know." Logan wished Bethany had cheated. Pretty damned difficult to work out marriage troubles with a dead spouse. "Stop beating yourself up over the divorce. Danny needs time to adjust is all."
"You're probably right." Fletcher punched Logan in the arm. "I met a woman named Daisy on MySpace." Fletcher had set up a MySpace page months ago and had tried to persuade Logan to join in the fun. He'd refused.
"Daisy? What the hell kind of name is that?"
"Everyone uses fake names on MySpace," Fletcher said.
"What's your handle?"
"Leonard. Lenny for short." He grinned.
"Yeah, well, good luck with your little flower."
They crawled to their feet. "Thanks for helping with the bull," Fletcher said.
"Anytime."
Hobbling sock-footed toward his truck, Fletcher said over his shoulder. "I'm throwing steaks on the grill tonight. You're welcome for supper."
"Think I'll pass."
"If you change your mind, we're eating at six." Fletcher honked and drove off.
Logan watched the blue horizon swallow his friend's truck. West Texas was flat and barren and not a tree in sight. Most people considered this part of the Longhorn State the ugliest but the vast emptiness matched the way he felt on the inside.
Keeping to himself might be easier on the heart and mind but it sure was damned lonely on the soul.
Marry Me, Cowboy
Chapter One
"How come you never said anything about this date with MySpace Daisy when I helped you pull the bull out of the mud bog?" Logan Taylor's voice echoed in Fletcher's McFadden's Bluetooth headset late Friday morning.
"Figured I'd end up canceling on her," Fletcher said. In truth he was nervous as all get out. Online Daisy seemed like a nice woman, but what if she turned out to be a troll? "Dress slacks or jeans?" Fletcher studied the rows of shirts, jackets and pants hanging in his closet.
"Your divorce hasn't been final a year," Logan said. "Are you ready to date again?"
"We both know my marriage was doomed from the beginning, but I was...never mind." A one-night stand had resulted in a pregnancy and Fletcher had taken responsibility for his actions by tying the knot with Sandi. Although they weren't in love with each other he'd been determined to make the marriage work and he hated that he'd failed.
"Everyone's entitled to a mistake." There was an odd catch in his friend's voice before he cleared his throat.
Oh, hell. What would Logan know about screwing up? The guy had married his high school sweetheart and they'd been happy until her death. At least his buddy had experienced true love. Fletcher had been cuckolded.
Logan had been the first person Fletcher had confided in when he'd arrived home early from a business trip and had walked in on Sandi and her lover in the bedroom. What he hadn't confessed to Logan was that his wife had been sleeping with the guy off and on during their entire seven-year marriage. Fletcher figured it was payback for having cheated on his teenage sweetheart.
He and Darla Baker had dated all through high school and the pressures of their senior year--deciding what college to go to, applying for scholarships and financial aide had stressed their relationship. They'd agreed to take a breather from each other until after final exams. He'd screwed up and had gotten caught--by Darla's best friend Sissy--making out at the drive-in movie theater with another girl. That ended his relationship with Darla for good.
In hindsight he'd been a moron in his marriage also--the clues had been right in front of his nose. Sandi's frequent overnight shopping excursions with so-called out-of-town friends. The time he'd discovered she'd continued taking her birth control pills after they'd agreed to have another baby. If there had been one thing in his miserable marriage to be grateful for it was that Sandi hadn't contested the divorce. She'd agreed to a handsome settlement and Fletcher received sole custody of their son.
"This woman know you're stinking rich?" Logan interrupted Fletcher's stroll down memory lane.
"She thinks I'm a used-car salesman."
"You're kidding."
"Nope." Fletcher grinned at the mirror hanging on the closet door. "Pretty clever, eh?" He figured if Daisy discovered he and his father owned a successful bull-breeding business, she'd flock after the McFadden fortune and not Fletcher's sweet ol' self.
"Where are you and this Daisy hooking up?" Logan asked.
"Why all the questions? I called for wardrobe help."
"I ought to charge you for my help. First, the bull and now I'm picking out your clothes."
"We're meeting at the drugstore in less than an hour."
"Is Daisy from around here?"
"She lives in Midland." Fletcher hoped he and Daisy would hit it off. He was in the market for a good-time-no-strings-attached affair. After screwing up with Darla, then marrying Sandi for all the wrong reasons, Fletcher was done with serious relationships. And he had Danny to consider. His son was having a hard time adjusting to Sandi's absence and the last thing Fletcher wanted to do was cause him more trauma by bringing another woman into their lives. "Back to my outfit."
"Jeans and a white dress shirt. No tie. Sunday boots."
"Thanks, hoss."
"What's Daisy look like?"
"Blond. Big-hair. Lots of makeup."
"Texas Mary Kay gal, huh?"
"I guess."
"What if she didn’t post her real picture online?"
"If she's as pretty as the backend of a mule, I'll cut the date short." The past four months he'd corresponded with three women. If Daisy didn't workout, he'd arrange a date with the next one on his list.
"Did you post a picture of your ugly mug on your page?"
"Of course."
"Good luck, buddy."
"Hey, Logan. What do you say we get together Christmas Day and grill steaks?" Logan's father had died six years ago and his mother lived in Florida with Logan's aunt. Fletcher hated the idea of his friend sitting home alone the first Christmas without his wife.
"I'll think about it. Later, Romeo."
The dial tone buzzed, then Fletcher's earpiece went silent.
"Dad! Where are you?"
"In here."
His seven-year-old-son dashed into the room and launched himself onto the bed. The boy looked nothing like Fletcher. There was little of the McFadden Irish in the kid. He had his mother's blond hair, slight build and brown eyes. Fletcher didn’t care. Despite the fact that his son had been conceived during a momentary loss of sanity on Fletcher's part he'd loved the boy the moment he'd been born.
"Whatcha doin'?"
"Getting ready for a--" He didn’t want Danny worrying about his father dating, so he lied. "--trip into town."
Danny jumped on the mattress, raising his arms above his head to touch the ceiling fan. "Can I come?"
"Nope." His son had woken with a belly ache this morning--a medical condition that had become all too frequent since the divorce and Sandi's absence. "If you're too sick to go to school, you’re too sick to leave the house."
"I'm feelin' better now."
Yeah, I bet you are. "Maybe next time."
"I'm bored," Danny whined.
"Quit jumping." He reinforced the command with a glare. "Practice your spelling words with Grandpa." After the divorce Fletcher had sold the house he and Sandi had built in a subdivision on the outskirts of Midland and moved back to his father's ranch. Danny appreciated the extra attention and in truth Fletcher needed his father's help in dealing with his son's unruly behavior.
"Can I go fishing with Grandpa if I get all my words right?"
"Yeah." Probably the wrong answer but Fletcher felt bad that his numerous attempts to convince Sandi to pay more attention to their child had failed.
"Thanks, Dad!" Danny raced from the room.
Fletcher tucked in his white dress shirt, aligned his belt buckle with his jean zipper, shoved his feet into high-polished black Laredo boots, donned his Stetson, then squirted on cologne. He studied his image in the mirror. His looks weren't special--not like his buddy, Logan, whose movie-star face stopped women in the street. At six-three, Fletcher had height on his side and a strong physique from a life of ranch work, but his auburn hair and ruddy face were nothing to brag about. Hope you like what you see, Ms. Daisy.
The ride into Junket took fifteen minutes. He stopped at the only intersection in town and had trouble peeling his foot off the brake. Chicken. Hell, yes he was scared. He hadn’t had a date--a real date--in seven years. What did women expect from men these days? Dinner and movie before...sex? Speaking of sex...it had been so long since he'd done the hanky panky he wasn't sure he remembered how to seduce a woman.
A horn honked and he checked the rear view mirror. Old man Carson sat behind the wheel of his 1978 Ford truck, his hunting dog Beau occupied the passenger seat. Carson didn’t go anywhere without Beau. Maybe Fletcher should get a dog instead of a woman. Dogs might smell bad but they were loyal critters. He lifted his foot off the brake and continued down Main Street.
Paying no attention to the town's new Christmas decorations, his eyes scanned the vehicles parked outside the local businesses. Daisy said she drove a black Volkswagen Beetle. No Beetle in sight so he parked in front of Baker's Drugstore and shut off the engine. A doll cradle and fire engine sat under the fake Christmas tree in the store window--the decorations had been there since September.
He considered hiding in his truck until he spotted a big-haired blond, but decided the polite thing to do was to wait for Daisy inside the store. Mrs. Polanski was towel drying glasses behind the soda fountain when he walked through the door. He slid onto a stool and greeted the gray-haired woman. "Afternoon, Mrs. P."
When Mrs. P. and her husband moved to the area and purchased the drugstore from Darla's parents, the older woman had learned the name of every child in Junket and knew which parents in the community struggled to put food on the table. Whenever those children dropped by the drugstore Mrs. P. handed out free hotdogs and glasses of milk.
"How's Danny, Fletcher?"
"Woke up with another stomach ache this morning."
"He misses his mother."
Fletcher agreed, although he didn’t understand how a child missed a mother who'd hardly paid attention to him since his birth. He suspected Danny worried his father might desert him, too. Every day Fletcher expressed his love to his son, but the words failed to reassure the boy.
"Did you drop by to eat or chat?" A blue-veined hand wiped the counter with a damp rag.
"I'm meeting a friend." Then he added, "You haven’t seen a strange woman wandering around here, have you?"
Mrs. P. nodded toward the front of the store. "She doesn’t look familiar."
He swiveled on his stool and his eyes collided with... "Darla?"
"Hello, Leonard. How's the used-car business?"
No. No way.
Had his former high-school sweetheart played him for a fool and strung him along all these months? "Daisy?"
The corner of her mouth tilted. Damn if she wasn't struggling not to laugh. "Sorry, I'm not your Daisy."
He frowned. Then how did you know--"
"A co-worker has a MySpace page and found a used-car salesman named Leonard from Junket, Texas. She wondered if I knew you."
Well, damn. This was embarrassing. "What brings you back to town after all these years?" Wow, she looked great. Better than she had in high school.
"Sissy's new baby, Emma, is being baptized on Sunday and I'm her Godmother."
Sissy Keller--the name made Fletcher shudder. The woman had blistered his ears when she'd caught him at the drive-in before their high school graduation.
Before the next question left his mouth, the drugstore door opened and in walked a Texas Mary Kay disaster. Fletcher dove off the stool and took cover behind the soda fountain.
"Don't give me away, Mrs. P." Crouching, he peeked around the edge of the fountain. Daisy's big blond hair was at least six inches taller than in her photo. And he sure hadn't remembered a big mole on her chin. Not to mention her nose looked a lot bigger in person than in the internet photo. Daisy towered over Darla's five-seven height. With her big-boned body and wide hips his blind date could wrestle a swamp gator and come out on top. Daisy smiled and Fletcher cringed at the ruby red lipstick smudges on her teeth.
"You wouldn’t happen to know a Leonard Reynolds, would you?" Daisy asked Darla.
Ah, damn. Darla was going to call his bluff.
"I don’t know any Leonard," Darla said.
Relief surged through Fletcher. He owed his ex-girlfriend big-time.
"Oh, drat." Daisy's linebacker shoulders slumped and for one millisecond Fletcher felt bad. Then Daisy batted her false eyelashes and sighed. "I suppose he chickened out."
"Chickened out?" Darla smirked.
"We met on MySpace. He seemed like a nice upstanding guy. Said he runs a used-car business but I didn’t see one on the way into town."
Junket had no used-car business.
Darla cleared her throat. "Speaking from experience, you're better off steering clear of guys like Leonard."
Ouch.
|
|
|