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Her Texas Rebel
Her Texas Rebel
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Her Texas Rebel

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Her Texas Rebel
LeAnne Bristow

He left so fast, she never got a chance.He abandoned her when she needed him most, just as she'd discovered she was pregnant. And now, ten years later, struggling single mother Sabrina Davis has come home in search of refuge for her at-risk son. Except Tony Montoya, now a cop, has also returned to Salt Creek, Texas.Recovering from being shot in the line of duty, Tony plans to use this time in his hometown to make amends for the trouble he caused as a youth. Amends for breaking Sabrina’s heart. But trouble seems to follow the police officer no matter where he goes, and he doesn't want to hurt the woman he never stopped loving…or the son he’s just found.

He left so fast, she never got a chance…

He abandoned her when she needed him most, just as she’d discovered she was pregnant. And now, ten years later, struggling single mother Sabrina Davis has come home in search of refuge for her at-risk son. Except Tony Montoya, now a cop, has also returned to Salt Creek, Texas.

Recovering from being shot in the line of duty, Tony plans to use this time in his hometown to make amends for the trouble he caused as a youth. Amends for breaking Sabrina’s heart. But trouble seems to follow the police officer no matter where he goes, and he doesn’t want to hurt the woman he never stopped loving…or the son he’s just found.

She turned around and froze.

A pair of hazel eyes bored into hers with such intensity that she suddenly felt flushed. Disheveled black hair hung in soft curls at the back of his collar as he gave her a familiar one-sided smile. “Hey, Bree.”

“Tony?” Shakiness threatened to overwhelm her. Her heart pounded in her ears and she squeezed the box in her hands to hide their trembling. Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes as Sabrina fought to keep her composure. Years of anger, bitterness and betrayal fought against a ridiculous urge to throw herself into his arms. Her teeth worried her bottom lip as she struggled to find the words to say.

“I heard you were moving back. Are you here to stay?”

“I don’t know yet.” He was close. Too close. The sandalwood scent of his aftershave sent her heart into overdrive. She took a quick step backward and tripped over the cart. The breath rushed from her lungs as he caught her in his strong arms.

His face was close enough for her to make out a faint scar under his jaw, just below his left ear. The scar he’d gotten while defending her. Along with the bump on the bridge of his nose.

She pushed against his chest, struggling to right herself. Silence permeated the air between them and his gaze never left hers. Like a mouse caught in the hypnotic gaze of a cat, she couldn’t move.

Breathe. You’re not eighteen anymore.

Dear Reader (#ubd1f6704-cb28-576d-96db-ab50cfcebb0e),

As a public-school teacher, I’ve seen my share of defiant children walk in the door with a chip on their shoulder. I’ve come to believe the saying “Those that deserve love the least, need it the most.” I’m not sure who penned that, but it’s become my classroom motto. Oftentimes, all kids need is someone to believe in them, root for them and never give up. I know. I’ve seen it happen.

When I was fifteen years old, I spent many happy hours pecking away on an old typewriter I bought at a yard sale for a buck. Even back then, all my stories involved bad boys and the good girls who loved them. Because even my teenage mind reasoned that rebellious behavior was just a cover-up for some deep-rooted pain. All they needed was someone to believe in them.

That’s when Tony was born. He was the perfect bad boy with a heart of gold. What he needed was a girl willing to give up everything for him. He had to wait almost thirty years for me to conjure Sabrina. She’s a small-town girl with pride as big as Texas and a heart that’s bigger. I finally had my perfectly flawed couple and they couldn’t wait to tell me their story.

I hope you enjoy Tony and Sabrina’s journey as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. I’d love to hear from you! Please visit me leannebristow.com (http://www.leannebristow.com).

LeAnne

Her Texas Rebel

LeAnne Bristow

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

LEANNE BRISTOW may have been born and raised in central Texas, but she’s a desert rat at heart. She calls southeastern Arizona home, even though her husband wouldn’t let her claim the title Arizonan until 2011, the year she’d officially lived in Arizona longer than Texas. When she’s not arguing with the characters in her head, she enjoys hunting, camping and fishing with her family. Her day job is teaching kindergarten, but now that her three kids are grown, she’s determined to teach her granddaughter how to catch lizards and love the desert as much as she does.

This is my first book and I feel like I’ve won an Oscar! There are so many people I’d like to acknowledge for helping me along this journey. First, I need to thank Janet Ferguson, Jackie Layton and Misty Beller for reading and rereading chapters and pushing me to be a better writer. Y’all are the best critique partners anyone could ever ask for. My wonderful agent, Scott Eagan, for never giving up on me, and my family and coworkers at Benson Primary School for cheering me on. I’d also like to thank Kaci Morrison for answering a million questions about the wonderful work that is done at the Cherokee Home for Children. This book is dedicated to all the people who work tirelessly to make a difference in the lives of children who don’t have anyone else in their corner.

Contents

Cover (#uae3a266c-4ba2-54e0-818a-e84675bd11ee)

Back Cover Text (#u3f05ce28-f312-5a9c-94c4-58708021e7c3)

Introduction (#u09fd8987-5fa8-531f-8f08-864773c68a27)

Dear Reader (#ubbb056d2-f82b-57da-9e57-d4b4faa07005)

Title Page (#u8168d1b8-6a36-519f-9e5e-358159091a8d)

About the Author (#u8b81e7d8-6b1d-5bb3-8f8b-5ef91e2e4f47)

Dedication (#u2beddf2b-a941-5036-b038-ce16267449fa)

CHAPTER ONE (#u769db319-4d67-5b66-a78d-4949b55fd331)

CHAPTER TWO (#u045d59fa-5a8b-59b6-b9a4-ac6e2077770d)

CHAPTER THREE (#uc4de6197-392a-5cef-a3bf-b78ad894033e)

CHAPTER FOUR (#u37da64d9-3ea8-5069-98e1-060d5fe03d76)

CHAPTER FIVE (#u4b7922fb-5a64-52c6-994d-99f67d2735e9)

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)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#ubd1f6704-cb28-576d-96db-ab50cfcebb0e)

“YOU DON’T WANT to do this.” Tony Montoya took a step forward, despite the gun pointing at his chest. His own weapon remained tucked in his holster. In eight years on the San Antonio police force, he’d only drawn it a handful of times.

The hand holding the gun shook, but the teen refused to lower the weapon. “Yes.” The boy’s chin lifted in defiance. “I do.”

Adolfo wouldn’t pull the trigger. He wasn’t a bad kid; he was just trying to survive. Tony understood. How many times had he stolen food from a convenience store when he was a kid? But Adolfo wasn’t trying to steal food for his family. The gun in the teenager’s hand was evidence of that.

“What are you going to gain?” Tony took another step toward him. “You think if you bring Raul money you’ll get moved from a peewee to a soldier?”

The boy’s dark eyes widened at the mention of that name. “You don’t know nothing, man.”

“I know you ain’t married yet.” Tony nodded at the boy’s right arm, bare of the bandanna marking him as a full-fledged member of the street gang.

A band tightened around his chest. Raul’s gang suffered more deaths than any other in the area. If he failed Adolfo, how long would it be before the boy paid the ultimate price? Would a rival gang member end his life or would it be someone in his own unit? A heaviness settled over Tony’s heart.

He’d seen too many young men ruined by the lure of gang life. Those losses far outweighed the people he’d managed to help leave the streets behind. Most of the boys, like Adolfo, weren’t tempted by the money, drugs and women. It was family. A place to belong. Over half of them were on their own. Deserted by mothers too strung out on drugs to care where their children were anymore, or too stressed out trying to earn enough money to keep a roof over their heads. Whatever the reason, the result was the same.

Tony had one chance to talk Adolfo down. He had to remind the kid that he had a real family, a family that depended on him. Keeping his voice low, Tony said, “Raul will still have you jumped. How you gonna explain that to your madre?”

The boy’s eyes flashed and Tony knew he’d struck a nerve. “How can you help her take care of your baby brother if you’re dead or in jail? Your mama needs you.”

“Leave my mama out of this.” The gun shook even more, and Adolfo’s eyes darted around the store.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony spied the store clerk moving to the edge of the counter. He held a hand up to stop him. Mr. Chan kept a .22 rifle under the counter. Please don’t pull that gun out. Not now. It might push the kid right over the edge.

Adolfo noticed, too. “Put your hands up where I can see them!”

“If I have to put my hands up, how am I supposed to get your money?” The old man looked bored. He’d experienced more than his share of robbery attempts.

Tension hung like a cloud of smoke as Adolfo and the clerk stared each other down. For the first time, Tony stepped away from Adolfo, putting himself between the boy and the old man.

“Move.” Adolfo jerked the gun.

“No.”

“Move. Or I’ll shoot you.” Adolfo waved the weapon again. His voice held a note of panic.

Tony remained in place. If he moved, Adolfo would see it as a victory and that would empower him even more. Tony looked the kid in the eye. “I’m not afraid to die. I know exactly where I’m going. But what about you? Where are you going when you leave this store? You got no place to go.”

“I’ll go to the club.”

“No, you’ll go to jail, if you’re lucky.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Try me.” Tony knew the kid’s life because it had once been his, too. “Your pop skipped out on you. Your mom works all day, so all you got is the streets. You’re being challenged, mijo, and you’re about to fail in the worst possible way.”

Adolfo’s shaking hands told Tony he still had a chance. If the shaking stopped, it would mean the boy had found his resolve and was lost. Tony edged farther between the counter and the waving gun. “Step up, bro. You’re the man of the house now. Go home and take care of your brother. You want him to join a gang, too?”

“Shut up! You don’t know nothin’ about me.” His voice cracked.

“I’ve known you for three years, mijo. I know your brother will follow you, and one of you will end up in a body bag.” Tony’s voice was hard now. “Maybe not right away, but you will.”

“You’re the one who’s gonna be in a body bag!”

“Go ahead.” Tony stepped forward now. His gun was within easy reach, but there was no way he’d pull it. He needed Adolfo’s trust. “I told you, I’m not afraid to die. Not if my death will get you away from Raul.”

“Stay back.” Adolfo’s voice was barely a whisper.

“The way I see it, you have two choices.” Electricity swirled in the air between them. “One, you shoot me. You go to jail for manslaughter. It will break your mama’s heart, but maybe it’ll scare your brother enough to stay away from gangs. Two, you put down that gun and you come with me to the St. Paul’s Mission and learn how a real man takes care of his family. I don’t care either way, because in the end, you and your brother will be safe.”

He paused, giving Adolfo time to think. “If I were you, I’d take the second option. It’s a lot less heartache for your mama.”

“Yeah, right.” Adolfo’s face twisted with anger. “I walk out of here with you and you arrest me as soon as I’m out the door. No thanks.”

“You walk out of here with me right now, and we’ll pretend this never happened.” He shot Mr. Chan a glance.

Mr. Chan nodded at him.

Time stood still as the young man considered his options. The tension in his thin frame melted and his trembling hands lowered the gun. The pressure around Tony’s middle eased and he stepped to the side so Mr. Chan could see that Adolfo’s weapon was lowered. As he stepped away, he held his hands in the air, so Adolfo wouldn’t feel threatened.

A sudden movement from the clerk drew Tony’s attention and made him realize his mistake. By stepping in front of Adolfo, he’d cut off Mr. Chan’s view of the boy’s hands. Now all Mr. Chan noticed were Tony’s own hands in the air. He must’ve thought Adolfo had pointed the weapon at Tony.

“No!” Tony whirled around to face Mr. Chan and jumped in front of Adolfo, shielding him just as the clerk’s gun went off. A searing pain ripped through his chest.

The room swayed and Tony sank to the ground. Adolfo tried to catch him, but Tony’s weight was too much and they both ended up in a heap on the floor.

Adolfo stared as blood poured out of Tony’s chest. “Oh, man! You’re hit!”

“I’m okay,” Tony muttered, the smell of rust and salt filling his nostrils. “I just need to sit for a minute.”

In a flash, the boy rolled Tony off him and sprinted out the door. Mr. Chan rushed over. “Mr. Tony, I’m so sorry! The ambulance is coming! I’m so sorry!” The frantic man pushed a towel into Tony’s wound. “I thought he was about to shoot.”

Tony shook his head, trying to dispel the faintness quickly taking over. An image floated in front of his eyes. Long blond hair, so blond it was almost white. “Bree.” Her dark brown eyes blinked and then she was gone.

* * *

SABRINA DAVIS KICKED the covers off and stretched. She opened her eyes and blinked. Bright morning light jolted her out of bed. If the sun was already up, she was late for work. Her pulse thundered in her ears and her gaze danced around the room. She let out a deep sigh and fell back on her pillow as she glanced at her bedside clock. Seven in the morning and for the first time in years, she didn’t need to jump out of bed and race to work or get her son ready for school. The scent of honeysuckle drifted through the open window and she closed her eyes, reveling in the silence. No hum of Houston traffic, no horns blaring. Somewhere in the pasture behind the house, a meadowlark began to sing, and she couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face. It was good to be home.