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The Rancher Takes A Family
Judy Christenberry
Recently widowed rancher John Richey had sworn off women, but he'd do anything for his baby daughter–even remarry. After all, little Betsy was crying out for a mom, and he needed help. His foreman's niece seemed the perfect choice for a platonic wife. Until he met her…Debra Williams and her toddler son filled John's house with warmth, making it feel like a real home again. Debra thought a prime job awaited her out west, not a husband! But this big, blue-eyed ionest-to-God cowboy needed more than a wife in name only. John needed someone to melt his hard heart and show him the real joys of family….
Everything about her husband
had changed….
Debra tried telling herself it didn’t matter, that she didn’t care. She didn’t want him. But she did. In fact, she ached for him. Over time, she’d come to realize John tried to do what he thought was right. John Richey was a good man.
Every once in a while she would think about how wonderful it would be if they were truly married. Oh, she knew legally they were. But she dreamed of being John’s wife, of having the right to touch him when she wanted. And where she wanted.
This was one of those times, and, for the first time since she’d come to his Wyoming ranch, she reveled in her fantasies….
Dear Reader,
I love to write cowboy stories, and when my editor requested I write exactly that, it made me very happy. I think I love cowboys so much because my father and mother were country kids, and visits to my grandparents in the country were a regular occurrence when I was little. Then, in my early teens, I began reading Zane Grey because my mother had the complete set of his books at home. I found them fascinating. I actually began my writing career in the Regency period, writing historical romance, but when I turned to contemporary romances I found my true voice in westerns. I usually set them in Wyoming, which is a place I’ve visited many times. For those of you who haven’t been there, Wyoming is not as large as Texas, my home state, but it’s a lot less populated. This works well with Western stories, because in Wyoming you find people still depending on their neighbors for help.
I’ve always enjoyed marriage-of-convenience stories, too, and that’s why I’ve written this book, The Rancher Takes a Family. John doesn’t think he will ever find a woman to love again, so decides to embark on a simple marriage of convenience. But things don’t go to plan, and his new wife, Debra, soon has him reassessing their situation. As always, love finds a way, and these two discover that they can be a proper family.
I hope you enjoy John and Debra’s story, and if you haven’t read a Western before, I hope you’ll give me and my cowboys a chance. If you have any questions or comments, you can reach me at www.judychristenberry.com.
Happy reading!
Judy Christenberry
The Rancher Takes a Family
Judy Christenberry
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
JUDY CHRISTENBERRY
has written over seventy books for Silhouette Books®, and she’s a favorite with readers. Now you can find more of Judy’s heartwarming and powerful stories in Harlequin Romance®.
Step into a world where family counts, men are true to their word—and where romance always wins the day!
OTHERS BOOKS BY JUDY CHRISTENBERRY
HER CHRISTMAS WEDDING WISH #3919
RANCHER AND PROTECTOR #3941
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE (#u1560eb8a-e5bd-5335-8a29-110e2155bb2e)
CHAPTER TWO (#u409448f7-db78-5c6b-a126-d984a70c42f0)
CHAPTER THREE (#ue7bc9fe0-3ce2-5a5f-86df-1e85a0ec0c0a)
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)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
“YOU know we’ve got to do something, don’t you, John?”
John Richey looked at his right-hand man, Bill Hobbs, and sighed. “I know we need to, Bill, but I’ve thought and thought, and I can’t come up with any answer except to just make the best of it.”
In spite of his worries he smiled at his baby daughter as he removed the empty bottle from her mouth. She gave him a contented grin worth more than anything money could buy.
Bill persisted. “Damn it, man, we’re risking a big loss with just you, me, Mikey and Jess working the ranch, especially since you and me are only working half days so we can take care of Sugar here.”
“I told you to call her Betsy. That’s her name, after all.”
“You’re not focusing, John. And I have a solution to our problem even if you don’t.”
John looked up in surprise. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this discussion, but it was the first time Bill had said he had the answer. “What do you mean, you’ve got the solution? What is it?”
“You won’t like it.”
John’s eyebrows soared. “That’s positive.”
“Well, you won’t. But it’s the only way, and it would help someone else out and cure all your ills, too.”
“And you’ve been keeping this miracle to yourself until you thought I was really desperate? I’m beginning to smell a rat, here, Bill.”
“I’ll tell you what it is if you’ll promise to hear me out.”
“Okay, I promise.” He put Betsy on his shoulder and gently patted her back. Almost immediately, Betsy let out an unladylike burp.
“Good girl,” John said with a smile at his nine-month-old daughter.
As if he’d been waiting for that sign, Bill said, “Remember, you promised to hear me out.”
“I remember,” John said, but his stomach was beginning to churn. Something was bad about Bill’s idea.
“You get married again.”
John turned to stare at him. “You’re crazy, old man! That’s not going to happen!”
He stood, with Betsy in his arms, ready to leave the room, but Bill reminded him, “You promised.”
“What kind of job is it, Uncle Bill?” Debra Williams asked hesitantly after finally settling herself in his old truck. The day so far had been hectic, what with taking Andy on his first plane ride—hers, too, for that matter. Even now that they were on terra firma, the trip was still bumpy as the truck bounced along the rutted road to Westlake, Wyoming.
But a rough patch was the least of her worries. Her life had been difficult, but she was a survivor. Always had been. But she wanted more than survival; she wanted to start the life she’d put on hold.
Her dream of being a teacher had been delayed when she’d found herself pregnant in her senior year of high school. Then, when the baby’s father died before their son was born, she’d had to face the hard fact that she was the sole support for herself and Andy until he was grown.
For years she’d been doing the best she could, but life hadn’t been wonderful.
So when Uncle Bill had called and told her he had a great job for her where she could keep her little boy with her, she accepted his word impulsively.
After she’d picked up the plane tickets and got aboard the flight to Casper, she’d had time to think about what she’d done. She hadn’t seen her uncle Bill since she was about six. How much did he know about her life? She knew her mother got letters from him fairly regularly, but that was it, as far as she knew.
Her mother had pleaded for Debra not to take Andy and go. Debra had been surprised and gratified to know that her mother wanted her to stay but she didn’t allow such uncharacteristic behavior to influence her decision. Now, though, she needed reassurance that she’d made the right decision, that what she’d done would help her little boy.
She’d asked a couple of questions earlier, but Uncle Bill had refused to answer her while Andy was awake. Now the three-year-old had finally fallen asleep in his car seat, and she could no longer wait for information. “You know I’m not trained for too many jobs. I was going to go to night school this fall, but you said this was a great job.”
“It is, honey, and it will let you stay home with Andy. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“You know it is, Uncle Bill, but there aren’t many jobs that will allow that. What do I have to do?”
“Things you already know how to do. Cooking, cleaning, taking care of kids.”
“So it’s a housekeeping job?”
“Yeah, that’s what it is. The thing is, Deb, I can’t keep sending you money and—”
“Sending me money? What are you talking about?”
He turned to stare at her until she warned him about an oncoming car. Then he said, “I’ve been sending your mother money every month to help out. She promised me she was passing it on to you.”
Debra looked out the window, unable to face her uncle, knowing that her mother had betrayed her again. They had never had a good relationship. After her father’s death, when Debra was nine, her mother had become so self-centered, Debra had practically raised herself. But she hated to think that her mother had intentionally kept money intended to help her own daughter.
She scrambled for a response to her uncle. “I guess she forgot.”
Bill slammed the steering wheel. “Damn! I should’ve known. Eileen was always— Never mind. Things will be better now.”
“I hope so,” Debra said softly. “I’ll certainly work hard. And it will be so wonderful to have Andy with me all day.”
Her uncle’s revelation explained why her mother had suddenly pleaded with her not to go. Greed had motivated her sudden maternal concern.
As usual, nothing had changed. But knowing the truth destroyed any light of hope that she’d misjudged her mother.
She shook off any sadness, focusing instead on her new life.
“So I’m going to be a housekeeper. How many people are in the family? Are there children Andy can play with?”
“Um, it’s a widower and his little girl,” Bill mumbled.
“Is there something weird about the job, Uncle Bill?” Something in her uncle’s voice didn’t seem quite right. She should’ve known better. There were no fairy-tale happy endings in the world today. She looked back at her sleeping son. She would protect Andy—whatever it took.
“Now, Debbie, honey, I want you to remember I have your best interest at heart.”
Debra got a sick feeling in her stomach. She’d pinned her hopes on her uncle’s promises. Surely Uncle Bill wouldn’t let her down…Would he? She couldn’t go back to Kansas City, to living with her mother, to being the cook in a diner, getting up at four-thirty every morning, no matter how she felt. Then she would come home at two, clean house while Andy finished his nap, play with him, fix dinner and go to bed to get up and do it all over again. She was growing old at twenty-two.
What was her uncle’s problem? “I don’t mind working hard, Uncle Bill.”
“Good. ’Cause you’ll be working hard.” He smiled at her, and she relaxed a little. In his fifties now, her uncle was still a handsome man, tall and muscular, with not a strand of gray in his full head of brown hair. He looked exactly as she remembered him.
They had been passing through mile after mile of ranch land and now she saw a town up ahead. A few shops, a café, a small bank. “Is this Westlake, Uncle Bill?”
Without answering, her uncle pulled to a stop in front of the only other building easily identifiable—a church.
“Uh, Debbie, there’s something I haven’t told you about the job.”
John heard the rear door of the church opening. He glanced over his shoulder from the front pew where he sat holding Betsy and waiting. This was a day he’d remember forever. March second. His second wedding. Guaranteed to be a disaster.
He turned back when he realized Bill was arguing with his niece. Was she hoping for a better deal? After all, his first wife had taught him well. If this one didn’t want what he was offering, he’d manage without her.
In fact, this was a dumb idea all-around. He stood, prepared to walk out of the church. Only a crazy man would’ve given in to Bill’s plan. And he wasn’t crazy.
The only problem was, he’d have to go past Bill and his niece to get to his truck. And he didn’t want to do that.
Suddenly John realized the woman was holding her son. The boy was the only thing about this agreement he liked. Not that he’d ever trade Betsy. True, he’d originally hoped for a boy, but it had only taken a minute of staring down at his tiny baby daughter to win his heart. But he would enjoy having a boy around, too.
It wasn’t as if he would ever have a son of his own.
More noise echoed from the rear of the church. He looked over his shoulder again. Bill and his niece were walking to the front. Okay, so she’d finally agreed. Too late to escape now.
“Uh, John,” Bill said, sounding nervous, “this here is my niece, Debra Williams, and her boy, Andy.”
“Hello,” John said. He knew he should offer a smile, but he couldn’t. Like a mantra, one line kept repeating in his brain: This is crazy…. This is crazy….
As if on cue, a door in the back of the church opened and the gentle face of their pastor, Reverend Tony Jackson, appeared. He came down the aisle with the big smile of a clergyman who thought he was sending a new couple off to wedded bliss.
“Ah, here’s the happy couple. John, introduce me to your lovely bride.”
John cleared his throat. “Uh, Reverend Jackson, this is Debra Williams, Bill’s niece.” He wouldn’t exactly call the woman lovely. Especially with that frown. Bill must’ve just told her about all the work she’d have to do, John figured. Maybe they should halt the proceedings right here and make sure she was willing to do what was necessary.
