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A Cowboy Family Christmas
Judy Duarte
Holiday Ranch Reunion Leanne Walsh is stunned when Reuben Walsh returns to his family's ranch for the holidays. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself that marrying the more stable Walsh brother was the right decision, it was unpredictable Reuben who held her heart – until he broke it. Leanne's frosty reception cuts deeper than Reuben expected, yet he can't leave the widowed single mom shorthanded with Christmas drawing near. He built his dreams around Leanne once before, and now is trying to resist her and her sweet young son. But in a season full of surprises, the promise of family is a gift too tempting to ignore.
Dear Santa,
I’ve been a good girl. Well, mostly.
These days, I’m usually the one dishing out advice. But the readers of “Dear Debbie” don’t know that I’ve never been the love of anyone’s life. As soon as I landed at the Rocking Chair Ranch, though, my luck started to change...thanks to one special guest. Promoter Drew Madison wants to shine a spotlight on the ranch’s retired cowboys. But I’m the one who feels aglow every time he glances my way. And the electricity between us? It sure could light up every town in Texas! Still, after he discovers my secret, I’m afraid that I’ll be thrust back into darkness. Now I only want one thing for Christmas: for Drew to give me—no, us—a second chance...
—Lainie
“Here, try a bite.”
He opened his mouth and relished the creamy, sweet taste bursting on his tongue.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“It’s good.” He withdrew a clean spoon from the drawer, dipped it into the small mixing bowl and offered it to her. “Your turn.”
“Okay.” Her mouth opened and closed around the spoon, tasting it herself. Then she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips.
His knees went weak, and an almost overwhelming urge rose up inside, pressing him to take her in his arms and kiss her. But he couldn’t do that. He shouldn’t anyway, and tamped down the compulsion as best he could.
Still, he continued to study her.
“Hmm, this is really good.” Her voice came out soft. Sweet. Smooth.
He couldn’t help himself; he reached out and brushed the flour from the tip of her nose.
Desire flared, his heart pumped hard and steady and his hand stilled. The temptation to kiss her senseless rose up again, stronger than ever. But he wouldn’t do that.
He shouldn’t.
Oh, why the hell not?
* * *
Rocking Chair Rodeo: Cowboys—and true love—never go out of style!
A Cowboy Family Christmas
Judy Duarte
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Since 2002, USA TODAY bestselling author JUDY DUARTE has written over forty books for Mills & Boon Cherish, earned two RITA® Award nominations, won two Maggie Awards and received a National Readers’ Choice Award. When she’s not cooped up in her writing cave, she enjoys traveling with her husband and spending quality time with her grandchildren. You can learn more about Judy and her books at her website, www.judyduarte.com (http://www.judyduarte.com), or at Facebook.com/judyduartenovelist (http://www.Facebook.com/judyduartenovelist).
To my aunties:
Dorothy Johnston Eggleston and Loraine Shaw. Thank you for your incredible love and support over the years. I love you both!
Contents
Cover (#u08ffd229-cc80-553f-80a5-68dc185e2235)
Back Cover Text (#u730c4916-4a91-5ddf-aef7-42c0d7e50400)
Introduction (#ud8eae578-3fe4-5290-b399-b45f5064cb26)
Title Page (#u0cf6530c-350e-54fa-aa5d-1f7f0e27ec5f)
About the Author (#u31e20a2d-3e7f-5c32-9e86-4fb5a28a69d6)
Dedication (#u04c3769a-40d6-53ab-8429-9bbce2454d86)
Chapter One (#uf07fc116-640d-541c-9194-742d78829902)
Chapter Two (#uf514b449-a22c-502f-b285-24bf8df85f11)
Chapter Three (#u913cf9b0-3eba-5b0b-b060-2cd4e37cb5ec)
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)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u6a8e3cb5-0db0-5d76-af69-b41c9e8fa904)
Dear Debbie,
I’m desperate and need your help.
Elena Montoya studied the first of several letters she’d been handed during her job interview at The Brighton Valley Gazette. She’d come here today, hoping to get her foot in the door at the small-town newspaper, but as a reporter. Not someone offering advice to the lovelorn in a weekly column.
Mr. Carlton, the balding, middle-aged editor, leaned forward, resting clasped hands on his desk. “So what do you think?”
Seriously? Elena would be hard-pressed to offer advice to anyone, especially someone with romantic trouble. But she didn’t want to reveal her inexperience or doubt. “I’d hoped to land a different assignment—or another type of column.”
“Let’s see what you can do with this first.” Mr. Carlton leaned back in his desk chair, the springs creaking under his weight, the buttons of his cotton shirt straining to contain his middle-age spread.
Elena knew better than to turn down work, even though this job wasn’t a good fit. Worse yet, the pay he’d offered her wasn’t enough to cover a pauper’s monthly expenses. And since she was new in town, she needed a way to support herself.
But as an advice columnist? The irony was laughable.
“You look a bit...uneasy,” the editor said.
She was. Either Mr. Carlton had neglected to read her resume or he’d confused her with another applicant.
“It’s just that...” She cleared her throat and chose her words carefully. “Well, don’t get me wrong. I’m happy to have this position, but I only took two psych courses in college. And since I majored in journalism, I’m more qualified to work as a reporter.”
“Don’t worry. It shouldn’t be too difficult for a young woman like you, Elena.”
She cringed at his use of her given name. The last thing she needed was for her new co-workers at the newspaper—or any rodeo fans in the small Texas community—to connect the dots and realize who she was. And why she looked familiar—in spite of her efforts to change her appearance.
“By the way,” she said, “I go by Lainie.” At least, that’s the childhood nickname her twin sister had given her.
“All right,” Mr. Carlton said. “Then Lainie it is. But keep in mind you’ll be known as ‘Dear Debbie’ around here. We like her true identity to be a secret.”
A temporary secret identity was just what Lainie needed. After that embarrassing evening, when rodeo star Craig Baxter’s wife had caught him and Elena together at a hotel restaurant in Houston and assumed the worst, Elena had done her best to lay low. The next day, she’d relocated to a ranch outside of Brighton Valley, where she could hide out until she could rise above those awful rumors—all of which were either untrue or blown way out of proportion.
Elena had tried to explain how she’d come to be there that night—how she had no idea that Craig was a rodeo star, let alone married—to no avail. Kara Baxter had been so angry at her husband, she’d thrown a margarita in Elena’s face and read him the riot act. As if that hadn’t been bad enough, someone at another table had caught it all on video, and the whole, ugly scene had gone viral. And now Kara’s friends and Craig’s fans blamed her for splitting up a marriage that wouldn’t have lasted anyway.
“Do you have any other questions?” Mr. Carlton asked.
As a matter of fact, she had a ton of them, but she didn’t want to show any sign of insecurity.
“I do have one question,” she admitted. “Some of the people writing these letters could be dealing with serious issues. And if that’s the case, I’m not qualified to offer them any advice.” Nor should she counsel anyone, for that matter.
Mr. Carlton shook his head and waved off her concern. “Our last Debbie used to have a stock answer for the bigger problems. She told them to seek professional help.”
Lainie nodded. “Okay. Then I’ll use that response.” A lot.
“Just focus on the interesting letters or on those that trigger a clever response,” Mr. Carlton said. “It’s really just entertainment for most people. But keep in mind, if the readership of the Dear Debbie column increases, I’ll give you a bigger assignment in the future.”
At least, he’d given her a chance to prove herself, something she’d had to do time and again since the third grade, when she’d gone from a foster home to a pediatric intensive care unit and lost track of her sister. “I’ll give it my best shot, Mr. Carlton.”
“Okay, kid. What’s the best number if I need to get a hold of you?”
“I listed my cell on my resume, although that’s not the best way to reach me. I’m temporarily staying at the Rocking Chair Ranch. Since the reception isn’t very good there, and the Wi-Fi is worse, you’d better call me on the landline.” She pointed to her resume, which he’d set aside on his desk. “I included that number, too, and marked it with an asterisk.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you staying at a retirement home for old cowboys?”
“Because I’m filling in for the ranch cook, who’ll be gone for the next three weeks.” When Lainie first heard about the temporary position, she’d declined. But after that awful run-in with Kara Baxter, she’d changed her mind and accepted it out of desperation, realizing it would provide her with a place to stay until she could find something better and more permanent in town.
Oddly enough, she actually felt a lot more comfortable staying at the Rocking C than she’d thought she would. And she liked the old men who lived there. Most of them were sweet, and even the crotchety few were entertaining.
Mr. Carlton pushed back his chair and got to his feet, signaling the interview was over.
Lainie stood, too. Still hoping for something more respectable and better paying, she said, “I minored in photography, so if you need a photojournalist, that’s another option.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Consider this your trial run, kid.”
Lainie nodded and reached for her purse.
Mr. Carlton headed for the door of his office and opened it for her. “I’ll send you a copy of the letters electronically, and even if you’re somewhere with terrible web access, your column is due by email before midnight on Wednesday. I can’t wait to see it.”
“You won’t be disappointed. I’ll channel my inner Debbie.” Lainie tamped down her doubt, offered him a smile and lifted the letters in her hand. “You’ll love what I do with these.”
Mr. Carlton beamed, clearly convinced that she’d work a miracle of some kind, but Lainie knew better. And she feared that by Friday morning, when her first column came out, her inadequacy would come to light.
* * *
Rodeo promoter Drew Madison drove his pickup down the county highway on his way to the Rocking C Ranch, listening to a Brad Paisley hit on the radio and sporting a confident grin. His plans for the Rocking Chair Rodeo were finally coming together, and a date had finally been set. The county-wide event would be held at the Brighton Valley Fairgrounds in April.
Drew’s boss at Esteban Enterprises had granted him free rein on the project, although he’d insisted that Drew move in to the Rocking Chair Ranch for a few weeks, interview the old cowboys who lived there and write a few blog posts sharing their stories.
While Drew had graduated from college and certainly knew how to put a sentence together, he’d never considered himself a writer. But his promotion to VP of the company was on the line, so he’d brushed away his doubt and agreed to do it.
Besides, how hard could writing a few stories be?
His cell phone rang, the Bluetooth automatically shutting out the Brad Paisley tune. He assumed it was another business call, but when he looked at the dashboard and spotted his sister’s name on the display, his heart clenched.
Kara Lee had been going through a lot lately, so he’d made it a point to check up on her each morning and evening. To have her contact him in the middle of the day was a little unsettling.
He answered quickly and tried to keep his tone upbeat. “Hey, sis. What’s up?”
“Not much. I’m just bored, I guess. I called your office, and they said you were traveling. Not that it really matters, but I thought you would’ve mentioned something about it to me.”
He hadn’t meant to keep it a secret, but neither had he wanted her to worry about him being gone and unable to get to the hospital in time if she went into labor. She’d nearly lost her baby last week and was on complete bed rest now.
“Actually,” he said, “it’s a new assignment. I meant to tell you about it, but I had to cut our morning call short.”
“How long will you be gone this time?”
Longer than he wanted to admit, although he was looking forward to meeting the retired cowboys. “I’ll be gone for a few weeks, but I’m not far from Houston. If you need me, all you have to do is call. I can get there within a couple of hours.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” she said, but the tone of her voice betrayed her words. “I’ll be fine.”
He certainly hoped so. Kara Lee had wanted to be a mother for as long as she could cuddle a dolly. And after three miscarriages, she’d made it to the fifth month this time around. For each day the little boy remained in the womb, the better chance he had.
“So where’s this assignment?” she asked.
