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Her Man On Three Rivers Ranch
Stella Bagwell
Hollisters and O’Dells don’t mix…or fall in love!Katherine O’Dell is no stranger to Blake Hollister. The single mum hasn’t forgotten her unattainable teenage crush. When Katherine discovers that Blake shares her attraction, will her secret keep her from building a life with the charismatic cowboy?
Hollisters and O’Dells don’t mix
Or fall in love!
Katherine O’Dell is no stranger to Three Rivers Ranch...or Blake Hollister. The wealthy rancher may not remember her, but the single mom hasn’t forgotten her unattainable teenage crush. When Katherine discovers Blake shares her attraction—and longs for a family of his own—will her secret keep her from building a life with the charismatic cowboy?
After writing more than eighty books for Mills & Boon, STELLA BAGWELL still finds it exciting to create new stories and bring her characters to life. She loves all things Western and has been married to her own real cowboy for forty-four years. Living on the south Texas coast, she also enjoys being outdoors and helping her husband care for the horses, cats and dog that call their small ranch home. The couple has one son, who teaches high school mathematics and is also an athletic director. Stella loves hearing from readers. They can contact her at www.stellabagwell@gmail.com.
Also by Stella Bagwell (#u98f7a02c-7b53-578a-b2ec-c377a423cdb8)
The Arizona Lawman
Her Kind of Doctor
The Cowboy’s Christmas Lullaby His
Badge, Her Baby…Their Family? Her
Rugged Rancher
Christmas on the Silver Horn Ranch
Daddy Wore Spurs
The Lawman’s Noelle
Wearing the Rancher’s Ring
One Tall, Dusty Cowboy
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
Her Man on Three Rivers Ranch
Stella Bagwell
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07749-1
HER MAN ON THREE RIVERS RANCH
© 2018 Stella Bagwell
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To all my wonderful readers, with much love and many thanks.
Contents
Cover (#u9616c2db-b179-5cdd-99e4-d7d3d25e79b0)
Back Cover Text (#ua22db44c-9542-5917-be84-6a9e2822b13a)
About the Author (#u0ca583d5-ceb7-5c87-b962-a2e580a35d80)
Booklist (#ue6e726ac-c7eb-54b8-ad07-54aef8d716c2)
Title Page (#u2b2fdb4e-bb53-5c93-8fb3-c21074a06956)
Copyright (#uf59db552-da07-5a9d-9a12-b3054d700e10)
Dedication (#u6663d3db-e4a2-5186-8494-b0c035834eca)
Chapter One (#u4d4b98ac-1d31-55eb-8396-7ddd988e82cb)
Chapter Two (#uab5610f7-4861-572c-8733-15eb7318278f)
Chapter Three (#u8a322deb-d419-5564-b291-9fd98dad3092)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u98f7a02c-7b53-578a-b2ec-c377a423cdb8)
Blake Hollister was fuming when he walked out the front entrance of Yavapai Bank and Trust. So much so that he didn’t see the woman on the sidewalk until he’d barreled directly into her, the force of the collision causing her to stagger backward.
With lightning-quick reflexes, he grabbed a steadying hold on her upper arm to prevent her from falling to the ground.
“Oh, pardon me, ma’am. I—”
“Blake? Blake Hollister, is that you?”
His hand continuing to grip her upper arm, he stepped back to survey the young woman he’d very nearly knocked off her feet. Shiny black hair, ocean-gray eyes and a soft wide mouth tilted in a tentative smile. Did he know this beautiful lady? She definitely seemed to recognize him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his face growing warm with embarrassment. It wasn’t like he was acquainted with a long list of women. Particularly one with a tall, curvy figure and a face like a sweet dream. If he’d met this one before, he damn well should’ve remembered the occasion. “Should I know you?”
The smile on her pink lips deepened. “It’s probably been too long for you to recall,” she told him. “I used to visit Three Rivers Ranch with my mom. She did sewing projects for your mother, Maureen.”
As he continued to take in her lovely image, recognition struck him. Could this be the raggedy little teenage girl who used to sit on the floor of the front porch and play with the dogs while their mothers discussed items to be sewn or mended?
“Don’t tell me you’re little Katherine Anderson! I can’t believe it!”
Her gray eyes sparkled, making her smile even warmer. “That was many years ago. And I wasn’t sure you even knew my name back then. My name is O’Dell now.”
Katherine Anderson had been several years younger than Blake and traveled in a totally different social circle than he and his family. And although he’d not paid any extra attention to her, he had noticed her from time to time. Mostly because she’d always looked unusually somber for someone so young.
“I remember,” he told her. “And your mother is Paulette, right?”
Appreciation flashed in her gray eyes. “That’s right.”
Recognizing his hand was still clamped around her arm, Blake dropped his hold and forced himself to put a respectable step between the two of them. “Sorry for not recognizing you right off,” he said with a rueful smile. “But you look...all grown-up.”
She laughed softly. “Believe me, you not recognizing me is a compliment. I’d hate to think I still look like my teenage years.”
He smiled at her. “I, uh, I apologize for plowing into you like that. The bank had a little mix-up on some of my accounts and the steam coming out of my ears must have blinded me.”
“No problem. It was nice running into you again. Even if it was literally,” she added impishly.
“Nice, yes.”
“Well, I’ll let you be on your way.” She extended her hand to him. “Perhaps we’ll run into each other again in another twelve years.”
Blake took her offered hand and was instantly surprised at the trusting way her fingers molded around his. Her grip was strong and warm, a reflection of the woman she’d become.
“Uh, are you busy right now?” The question blurted past his mouth before he’d realized the words were anywhere near his tongue. “If you’d like, we could walk down the street to Conchita’s and have a cup of coffee.”
Her eyebrows arched and then she glanced over both shoulders as though to make sure he was actually inviting her, rather than someone who may have been standing behind her.
“I’m running a few errands this morning,” she explained. “But a few minutes for coffee shouldn’t hurt.”
A ridiculous little thrill rushed through him. “Great, I have a few minutes, too.”
Liar, liar. You don’t have a minute to spare. Not with all kinds of work waiting on you back at Three Rivers. What the hell has come over you, Blake? She said her name was O’Dell now. That means she’s married. Or doesn’t that matter to you?
It didn’t matter if she was married, Blake mentally argued. Buying an old acquaintance a cup of coffee was hardly an indecent gesture.
He reached for her arm. “Let’s walk on this side of the street until we reach the end of the block.”
She nodded in agreement. “I was about to suggest the same thing. It’s only the first week of April, but it feels like July. And this side of the street offers a bit of shade from the blistering sun.”
As they walked along the quiet street of Wickenburg, Arizona, Blake was acutely aware of the soft, sweet scent of her perfume, the way the sun put fiery sparks in her shoulder-length black hair and the graceful sway of her hips.
“So are you here in town for long?” he asked as they paused at the street corner to check for traffic.
“I live here now,” she told him. “I moved back almost three years ago.”
Blake hoped the red he could feel on his face wasn’t that noticeable. “Oh. Mom mentioned something about you moving away. That was several years ago. I wasn’t aware you’d returned. I...don’t get away from the ranch all that much. There’s always so much to do.”
“I can understand that,” she replied. “I remember Three Rivers always being a very busy place.”
Busy? That was a mild way to describe his family business, Blake thought. As the general manager of Three Rivers Ranch, he barely had time to draw a good breath. If not for the mix-up at the bank requiring his personal attention this morning, he wouldn’t have been in town at all, much less taking time to have coffee with a woman. But that wasn’t the sort of information he needed to share with Katherine O’Dell.
They crossed the street, then traveled another half block until they reached Conchita’s coffee shop. The small pink stucco building was shaded by two large mesquite trees and offered customers outdoor seating. As they walked over a group of stepping stones that served as a sidewalk, Blake gestured to one of the tiny round tables situated on the stone patio.
“Go ahead and take a seat, I’ll get the coffee. What would you like?”
“Thank you, Blake. Make mine plain coffee with one sugar.”
He seated her at one of the wrought-iron tables and entered the coffee shop through a wooden screen door. As usual, Emily-Ann Smith was behind the counter. In one corner of the small room, a radio was playing an old standard, while a table fan stirred the scents of fresh-baked pastries displayed in neat rows inside a large glass case.
The instant Emily-Ann spotted Blake, a wide smile came over her face. “Well, Blake Hollister! Should I be worried the roof is going to crash in? It’s been ages since you’ve been in for coffee.”
The quirky young woman with long auburn hair was a childhood friend of Blake’s youngest sister, Camille. “Hello, Emily-Ann. How are things going for you?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Boring without Camille around. Is she ever going to come back home?”
“Hard to say. I think she likes living down on Red Bluff.”
“Living. Hmm. You might call it that. Hiding is the way I’d put it,” she muttered, then shook her head. “Sorry, Blake. I shouldn’t have said that. What would you like this morning? I’ve sold at least fifty lattes since I opened at six. Want to try one?”
“No, thanks. Just two plain coffees.” He placed the correct amount of bills on the counter plus a tidy tip. “One with cream. The other with one sugar.”
