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The Cowboy's Texas Family
Margaret Daley
From Cowboy to Father FigureRancher Nick McGarrett wants to help orphaned ten-year-old Corey Phillips, the brother of his late comrade. But he’s not fit to be a father—not with his troubled past. Thankfully, the child finds a home at the Lone Star Cowboy League Boys Ranch, where Nick volunteers. When wealthy newcomer Darcy Hill discovers she’s Corey’s cousin, she hopes to eventually take him in. Nick and Darcy couldn’t be more opposite—or more drawn to each other. But for Darcy, raising Corey in her hometown means leaving Texas…and Nick. It’ll take a special little boy to show these two grown-ups that the key to forging a new future is being together.
From Cowboy to Father Figure
Rancher Nick McGarrett wants to help orphaned ten-year-old Corey Phillips, the brother of his late comrade. But he’s not fit to be a father—not with his troubled past. Thankfully, the child finds a home at the Lone Star Cowboy League Boys Ranch, where Nick volunteers. When wealthy newcomer Darcy Hill discovers she’s Corey’s cousin, she hopes to eventually take him in. Nick and Darcy couldn’t be more opposite—or more drawn to each other. But for Darcy, raising Corey in her hometown means leaving Texas…and Nick. It’ll take a special little boy to show these two grown-ups that the key to forging a new future is being together.
“How about the boys ranch for Corey?” Darcy asked.
“I know they have room for one more boy,” Nick said, “and I’d much rather see Corey there, but I’m not sure it’ll happen. I volunteer at the boys ranch, and it would be great for Corey.”
Darcy wasn’t surprised that Nick would volunteer there. In the short time she’d been with him, she saw a man of action and heart. “Then I’ll pray that something is done for Corey.”
Nick looked away. “In my experience He hasn’t helped much.”
There was something in Nick’s voice that touched Darcy. Who did he turn to when he was in trouble or upset?
She started to say something, but the tense set of his jaw and rigid posture indicated this wasn’t a good time. He wouldn’t hear her.
She didn’t want to leave Haven until something was done for Corey. How could she walk away from a child in need?
And how could she walk away from Nick McGarrett?
* * *
Lone Star Cowboy League: Boys Ranch
Bighearted ranchers in small-town Texas
The Rancher’s Texas Match (http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781488007507&oisbn=9781474064859) by Brenda Minton October 2016
The Ranger’s Texas Proposal (http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781488007569&oisbn=9781474064859) by Jessica Keller November 2016
The Nanny’s Texas Christmas (http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781488007620&oisbn=9781474064859) by Lee Tobin McClain December 2016
The Cowboy’s Texas Family by Margaret Daley
January 2017
The Doctor’s Texas Baby (http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781488018091&oisbn=9781474064859) by Deb Kastner February 2017
The Rancher’s Texas Twins (http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781488018176&oisbn=9781474064859) by Allie Pleiter March 2017
Dear Reader (#u5cdb9f35-cb1b-5ccc-8cf4-220db66be889),
I wanted to thank the authors I had the pleasure of working with on this second Lone Star Cowboy League continuity as well as Shana Asaro, our editor on this project. I worked on the first one and had as much fun with this one as I did with that first LSCL series.
I’m a retired teacher, and I loved working and helping children. That’s what this series is about. There are some kids who need extra love and attention because of what they are dealing with. Corey was one of those and got the help he needed. Nick was also a troubled child while growing up, but he wasn’t fortunate enough to receive the support he needed and his past affected his present. He learned he couldn’t run from it. Forgetting the past wasn’t easy until he dealt with his emotions concerning it. He used what he’d learned growing up to help Corey and that in turn also made Nick a stronger person.
I love hearing from readers. You can contact me at margaretdaley@gmail.com or at P. O. Box 2074, Tulsa, OK 74101. You can also learn more about my books at www.margaretdaley.com (http://www.margaretdaley.com). I have a newsletter that you can sign up for on my website.
Take care,
Margaret
MARGARET DALEY, an award-winning author of ninety books (five million sold worldwide), has been married for over forty years and is a firm believer in romance and love. When she isn’t traveling, she’s writing love stories, often with a suspense thread, and corralling her three cats, who think they rule her household. To find out more about Margaret, visit her website at margaretdaley.com (http://www.margaretdaley.com).
The Cowboy’s Texas Family
Margaret Daley
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For if you forgive men their trespasses,
your heavenly Father will also forgive you.
—Matthew 6:14
To my editor, Melissa Endlich. Thank you.
Special thanks and acknowledgment
are given to Margaret Daley for her contribution to the
Lone Star Cowboy League: Boys Ranch miniseries.
Contents
Cover (#u8a56df2d-4554-585b-bb73-31e6c446d528)
Back Cover Text (#ue158473a-39d6-51a5-ac68-a570fb7b8bfe)
Introduction (#u93f23549-4df4-571f-8ccd-8dd02f4601fa)
Dear Reader (#uc9050581-d3e0-51c1-93f4-d18423380722)
About the Author (#uc7f0dda7-4f4b-5bc2-a71c-1ac3661c3e12)
Title Page (#ubad28bc1-c216-5783-a9a2-15f3a4841ce2)
Bible Verse (#u338a78d4-a58e-5e42-8329-8c5b17c4805e)
Dedication (#u1fd12084-1fb9-5539-a795-d00ec8106443)
Acknowledgments (#u835ba2df-7b4f-5b54-ae28-743f7924542f)
Chapter One (#u7b9fe676-0284-5645-bc09-71e0f5d17fef)
Chapter Two (#u3a0483db-364f-5a95-9b74-1a1b0923d83c)
Chapter Three (#u7bfc2ea7-a4c8-5707-813a-4c102d4239b0)
Chapter Four (#u4defc01f-acfc-5ae8-9d2b-aa41e9ee85c8)
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)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u5cdb9f35-cb1b-5ccc-8cf4-220db66be889)
Nick McGarrett marched into Fletcher Snowden Phillips’s law office in Haven, Texas. It was time the man stepped up and helped a member of his family. Fletcher’s secretary looked up and frowned. As Nick crossed to her desk, he glanced at his mud-splattered jeans and boots. When he’d received a tearful call from Corey Phillips, a ten-year-old second cousin of Fletcher’s, Nick had come straight from replacing a section of a fence on his ranch.
Nick owed Corey’s older brother, Doug. When they’d gone on their last mission together, Nick had promised his combat buddy that after he left the service he would watch out for Corey until Doug could. At the time Nick had thought it would be only a few months until Doug returned home. His friend was killed in that mission by a sniper. Young Corey looked like Doug, who’d always had Nick’s back when they had gone on assignments together.
Nick fixed his gaze on Nancy Collins, hoping it would convey his determination. “I need to see Fletcher now.” He’d lost all patience with the man.
Both of the secretary’s eyebrows rose, and her chin came up a notch. “Do you have an appointment?”
He peered at the closed door to Fletcher’s inner office—shut tightly like the lawyer’s heart. Although she probably knew the answer, Nick said, “No.”
“I can schedule one for next week. He’s leaving soon.”
“That’s okay.” Nick tipped the brim of his brown Stetson and then pivoted and strode into the corridor.
He planted himself against the wall, reclining back with his arms crossed. He was going to talk to the man one way or another. It was in times like this that Nick wished he had enough money to help Fletcher’s cousin financially. All he could do was be there for the ten-year-old who lived twenty miles away in a small town on the other side of Waco.
Today Corey had thought his dad was dead. Nick tried to go over to the small, dilapidated house whenever the boy called. If he couldn’t, Nick would call Mrs. Scott, who lived next door, to help. Today he’d been worried he wouldn’t make it in time if something worse had happened to Ned Phillips than drinking too much alcohol. Thankfully the older woman had stayed with Corey, assuring the child that his father would wake up, which he finally did. Truth be told, Corey shouldn’t even be living with his alcoholic father, who left the child practically to raise himself. Nick had been there as a kid and knew how hard that was.
The door to the office opened, and Fletcher came out.
Nick pushed himself off the wall and stepped in the man’s path. “We need to talk.”
“I don’t have time.”
Fletcher, tall with an imposing paunch, tried to skirt around Nick. He didn’t weigh as much as the lawyer, but his body was muscular from hard work. Fletcher’s idea of exercise was walking to and from his luxury car. Nick blocked his path. “Make time.”
Fletcher scowled. “Is this about Corey again?”
“Yes. You’re his closest relative. If you don’t want to take the boy and raise him, then at least help Ned buy food and clothing.” Nick nearly choked on the first part of the sentence. Fletcher wasn’t good father material either.
“I’m not giving Ned a cent. All he would do is buy more liquor. I’m a bachelor. I always have been. I wouldn’t know the first thing about raising a child. Check with Family and Protective Services. That’s their job.” Fletcher quickly sidestepped and charged down the hall, leaving Nick fuming.
As if he hadn’t tried contacting the authorities. The underfunded and overworked Family and Protective Services had more urgent cases to deal with.
Nick took several deep, calming breaths and then followed Fletcher outside to the parking lot. The wind held a fierce chill even for early January. As the lawyer drove away, Nick hurried his pace and welcomed what warmth still lingered in the cab of his old truck.
When Nick had first returned to Haven after being in the army, serving overseas in a war zone, Fletcher had said the same thing—that it was the county’s problem, not Fletcher’s.
Painful memories from the war zone inundated Nick. It had been over a year since he’d returned home to Haven. Too many comrades had died. He didn’t understand why there was so much death and hatred. At first he had prayed, but when he lost one friend while Nick was trying to save his life, he’d stopped talking to God. The Lord obviously wasn’t listening.
As Nick left Main Street and the small downtown area, he passed Fletcher parking his car in front of his large antebellum home a few miles outside of Haven. The large three-story house overshadowed everyone else’s place nearby. Although he came from a family with a long ranching history, Fletcher didn’t live on more than two acres of land. According to Fletcher, ranching was manual labor and beneath him.
The sun near the western horizon sent up streaks of yellow, orange and rose through the darkening blue sky. Even though sunset was less than a half hour away, Nick wore his sunglasses to keep the glare from impeding his driving. Through the last burst of brightness, he glimpsed a car coming toward him. The driver maneuvered it to the shoulder of the two-lane highway and then came to a stop.
As Nick approached, he eased up on the gas. The other car’s emergency lights began flashing. A blond-haired woman opened the car door, swung her long legs around and stood. Standing partially on the road in four-inch heels, she glanced at him as he passed her. He made a U-turn and parked not a yard behind her. The chilly wind blew even stronger than before. The moisture-laden air would produce snow later tonight.
Nick climbed from his truck and strolled toward the lady using her expensive sports car as a shield from the cold northern blast.
“Not for two hours? It’s getting dark.” Her throaty voice with a Southern drawl rose in panic. “I’m in the middle of nowhere.” She paused while the person on the other end said something and then she sighed heavily. “Fine. Seven thirty or eight.” She disconnected and jammed her phone into her leather coat’s pocket.
Her gaze clashed with his, and she backed up against her car door. “I know how to defend myself, mister.”
“Against what? The cold? That short leather jacket won’t keep you warm.” His look skimmed her length, taking in her bare legs and the skirt that came to her knees. She had to be passing through. She had city gal stamped all over and, by the looks of her Corvette, was rich too. It wasn’t that he thought anyone would harm her, but he couldn’t leave her stranded for two hours waiting for a ride from whomever she was talking to.
“When I left Mobile this morning, it was a balmy sixty-five degrees and climbing to eighty until I began heading north in Houston.”
“A cold front is pushing through. If you don’t want to wait, I can drive you to Haven, the nearest town. I know Slim, who owns the garage. Or if you ran out of gas, I can bring you back some. You’re only five miles from Haven.”
She straightened. “I didn’t run out of gas. I have over half a tank. My check-engine light came on when I left Interstate 45. I was praying I could make it to Haven without a problem.”
“Haven?” Why? Who was she visiting? She’d fit in about as well as a fox in a hen house.
“I like a small town. Waco is too big.”
“And you’re from Mobile?” The last time he checked, Mobile was classified as a city.
“South at Gulf Shores. The pace is a little quieter. I noticed you were heading out of town. I’d hate to take you out of your way.” The woman hugged her arms close to her body while she pretended she wasn’t freezing.
