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His Rodeo Sweetheart
Pamela Britton
Lost and FoundAfter serving in the Army, veterinarian Ethan McCall isn’t sure where he belongs. So visiting Claire Reynolds’ family ranch to help with her military dog rescue centre seemed as good a place as any to start! But even though Ethan can’t stop thinking about beautiful single mum Claire, he knows he could never offer his heart…Claire recognises the pain in Ethan’s green eyes. Yet, with a son to raise, there’s no room in her life for romance. Claire and Ethan can’t deny their attraction for ever – could two broken hearts come together to make a family whole?
“I’m going to grab something to eat.”
She needed to escape the urge to do exactly as he suggested—to sink into his arms and forget for the moment that she was the single mother of a very sick little boy.
“Claire.” He called her name and she ignored it, turning toward the kitchen.
“I need to eat.”
“No,” he said. “You need a hug.”
Funny how just a moment ago she couldn’t cry to save her life, yet his words brought instant tears to her eyes. “Please don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
She sucked in a breath, trying hard not to crumble because that was all it had taken—one gentle call of her name, one random act of kindness, one offer of a shoulder to lean upon—for her to lose strength.
“Don’t be kind to me because if you touch me I might crumble and if I crumble I don’t know if I’ll be able to put all the pieces back together again.”
He stared down at her with a kindness that melted her self-control. “If you crumble, I promise to help put you back together again.”
His Rodeo
Sweetheart
Pamela Britton
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
With more than a million books in print, PAMELA BRITTON likes to call herself the best-known author nobody’s ever heard of. Of course, that changed thanks to a certain licensing agreement with that little racing organization known as NASCAR.
But before the glitz and glamour of NASCAR, Pamela wrote books that were frequently voted the best of the best by the Detroit Free Press, Barnes & Noble (two years in a row) and RT Book Reviews. She’s won numerous awards, including a National Readers’ Choice Award and a nomination for the Romance Writers of America Golden Heart
Award.
When not writing books, Pamela is a reporter for a local newspaper. She’s also a columnist for the American Quarter Horse Journal.
This one’s for Patti Mahany,
the best big sister a person could ask for.
You make me laugh.
You’ve listened to me cry.
You’re always there for my daughter, and
I appreciate that more than you know.
Contents
Cover (#u41d1e9e5-7467-5b59-97f0-ee3fd3058eac)
Introduction (#u9da82354-c867-5e84-9171-a6b7c570a735)
Title Page (#uf773ed0f-2a65-5ab1-b5b3-51d90d8a9e69)
About the Author (#ud2251ec2-a89e-5d59-9b15-3846e2397231)
Dedication (#u62b43b83-6437-5bce-9862-f23a5aaef64d)
Chapter One (#ulink_f25ea825-4f4b-5e07-a811-9167a8f63c2d)
Chapter Two (#ulink_cd8ea697-3cc9-5491-9f9d-3d863040ab1d)
Chapter Three (#ulink_359d8090-9489-546e-8944-a8af32dad1e8)
Chapter Four (#ulink_49a4d8e8-d869-5c5d-b807-f196d23724a9)
Chapter Five (#ulink_f088241d-450b-509c-be2e-e1dba98caaa0)
Chapter Six (#ulink_931104f4-e6e7-513b-beed-75d6fbe7d1b2)
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 (#ulink_b7ec9f56-df25-589f-9ae9-c30384288d48)
There was something about a man in uniform.
Claire Reynolds had seen a lot of them over the years. It had gotten to the point that she hardly even noticed them anymore, but this man, she thought as a warm wind blew off the tarmac, this man stood out—and not just because he wore dress blues.
“Ms. Reynolds?” He walked out from beneath the shade of a C-40, although he had to yell to be heard. Behind him, across a strip of asphalt that shimmered from desert heat, the nose of a C-5 cargo plane lifted. The roar of its engines sounded as if a thousand storm clouds hovered overhead.
“You must be Dr. McCall?” she all but yelled back, a hank of her long black hair blowing across her face. She should have pulled it into a ponytail.
The man nodded, his hand lifting to his hat, a black beret with a gold oak leaf cluster near the pointy tip. Major Ethan McCall. Decorated soldier. Veterinarian for the US Army. She’d been on base before thanks to CPR—Combat Pet Rescue—but she’d never met this man. Was he new?
Beneath his hat, green eyes squinted as he turned to face the back end of the smaller cargo plane, the big bay door yawning open like the back of a semi. In the shade of one of the wings, an aluminum dog crate stood silent. Claire watched as a black nose and part of a snout popped out of one of the holes, then back in again. For some reason, it made Claire smile. She looked up at the man in uniform and found him staring at her.
“Thanks for coming all the way out here.” He looked away, and Claire took a moment to gather all her hair in one hand and twist it so that it would stay in place. He was young, much younger than she had expected. And handsome. She hadn’t expected that, either. Light brown hair. Strong jaw. Sideburns. A younger version of George Clooney.
“I didn’t mind.” And she hadn’t. She’d needed to get away, even though her troubles had followed her here. As much as she loved her six-year-old son, as much as she wanted to be there for him every step of the way, she’d craved a brief burst of freedom. So she’d made the long drive east and then south to the desert, leaving Adam in the care of her brother and sister-in-law. God help her, she’d wanted to keep on driving.
“Sorry about the uniform.” She looked up in time to see something cross behind his eyes. “Funeral detail.”
The reason for the heightened security presented itself. She’d been on base enough times to have the routine down by heart. But today there had been an added layer of tension. She did a half turn toward the plane and spotted it then. A casket sat just inside the cargo bay. It caused Claire’s heart to stab her rib cage, the same way it did whenever she heard more bad news about her son’s health.
“Oh.” Of pithy things to say it probably didn’t top the list, but there really wasn’t much more to verbalize. He probably hadn’t heard her anyway. The roar of four jet engines as they reached maximum horsepower made words disappear. When the sound faded somewhat she raised her voice and said, “I better make this quick, then.”
He hadn’t taken his eyes off the casket, and when he turned back to her, she saw the sadness in them.
“It’s his dog.” The words emerged from her, unbidden, but when she saw him flinch, she knew it to be true.
Janus. The Belgian Malinois, which a less trained eye might ID as a German shepherd, had belonged to his friend. She had to look away for a moment, her throat closing in mute sympathy because she recognized his type of pain.
“I’m so sorry.”
Her security badge caught the breeze and blew against the white shirt she wore. Inside the crate the dog poked his nose through a hole again. She was tempted to present her scent, but there would be time for that later. Instead she took a deep breath and looked Major McCall in the eye.
“Is the family certain they don’t want to keep him?”
He shook his head sharply. “He’s a great dog. Passed his personality test with flying colors. It’s just that the wife has two small kids. She’s worried about Janus being too much to handle.”
He would be a lot of work. Military dogs were known to be hyper, but they settled down once they realized their job description had changed. From military dog to family pet. It happened all the time.
She inhaled, trying to think of something else to say. “Tell them they can always change their mind.”
“They won’t.”
He shook his head mutely. Inside the kennel Janus whined. You could tell a lot by an animal’s cry. There was the feed-me whine and the I-want-out-of-my-crate whine, and the one that always tugged at her heart. The I-miss-my-master whine.
Janus wanted his master.
“Toughest part of the job, listening to their cries.” She’d said the words softly, too softly to be heard by him, or so she’d thought. The cargo plane had lifted higher into the clear, blue sky, the sound of its engines slowly fading away, and the wind had caught her words, bringing them to his ears.
“It is, isn’t it?” His eyes were so light that the black lashes stood out in stark contrast. From a distance it would look as if they were lined with makeup. Major Ethan McCall was all man. Wide shoulders. Narrow waist. Big hands.
She had to look away because noticing his hands seemed somehow wrong, especially given their conversation.
“I wanted to come do this for Trevor, but after tomorrow...”
She looked up again because something about his words caught her ear. She tipped her head sideways. “You’re getting out?”
He nodded. “Seemed as good a time as any.”
She’d met a lot of veterinarians over the years. Army. Marine. Yes, even Navy, but they were always stateside. When he glanced toward the back of the plane again, she knew he hadn’t been. He’d been over there. In combat.
“Going into private practice, then?”
He shrugged. “Not sure yet.”
She searched for something to say because the sadness in his eyes tore at her heart and reminded her of all she’d lost, too. Funny how you could go through life wrapped up in your own little world, feeling sorry for yourself, only to be smacked in the face by someone else’s problems.
“Well, if you find yourself at loose ends, you’re always welcome to visit CPR. My family owns a big ranch. You’d be welcome there.”
He hadn’t heard her. He kept glancing back toward a nearby hangar. The family would be here shortly, she surmised. That was the reason the base commander had stressed the importance of being on time. They wanted Janus off base so the family wouldn’t have to see the dog. Less painful to them that way.
“I’ll think about it,” he added.
So he had heard her. “It’s a nice drive,” she said, even though a part of her warned to just shut up and get the hell out of there. “It might do you good to get out.” Damn her need to mother everybody.
She was almost grateful when his gaze shifted back to Janus again. It must have served as a reminder of what they were there to do, because he braced himself. She saw the physical effects of it when he straightened his shoulders and clenched and unclenched his hands. She knew in an instant that the man whose body he’d accompanied back home had been more than a casual friend. He’d been a brother in arms. A member of his fighting family. Major McCall had been in combat, which meant someone must have pulled some strings to allow him to attend the body. She understood that type of bond all too well. She had two brothers who were military, one of them ex, the other about to be. Her husband, too, had been in the military before...
She took a deep breath. “Maybe we should get Janus loaded.”
He nodded, and then turned. The dog’s kennel had been placed on casters, making it easy to wheel to her vehicle. She’d been allowed to park near the tarmac, and she’d taken advantage of the shade offered by the massive metal building used to house aircraft. A local car dealership always loaned her a van for free. She chirped the lock, the two of them pausing for a moment near the double back doors.
Janus whined. She glanced at Major McCall just in time to see him swallow. Hard. “You mind if I say goodbye?”
She nodded mutely. He squatted down next to the metal box, cracked the door open.
“Shtopp,” she heard him softly mutter the German commands nearly all combat dogs grew up hearing. “Sitz.”
Inside the kennel, Janus shifted around. She couldn’t see much with the metal door blocking her view, but she spotted the black paw that landed over the top of Major McCall’s hand. He turned it until the two were touching palm to pad. It made her want to cry.
