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The Cowboy's Secret Family
Judy Duarte
Escape or die trying… No. 1 international bestseller Jeffery Deaver returns with a stunning new thriller – the first in an exciting series featuring enigmatic investigator Colter Shaw. ‘Masterful storytelling — The Never Game is Deaver’s most riveting, most twisty, most unputdownable novel yet’ Karin Slaughter A student kidnapped from the park. Nineteen-year-old Sophie disappears one summer afternoon. She wakes up to find herself locked inside a derelict warehouse, surrounded by five objects. If she uses them wisely, she will escape her prison. Otherwise she will die. An investigator running out of time. Sophie’s distraught father calls in the one man who can help find his daughter: unique investigator Colter Shaw. Raised in the wilderness by survivalist parents, he is an expert tracker with a forensic mind trained to solve the most challenging cases. But this will be a test even for him. A killer playing a dangerous game. Soon a blogger called Henry is abducted – left to die in the dark heart of a remote forest – and the whole case gets turned on its head. Because this killer isn’t following the rules; he’s changing them. One murder at a time… ‘No one in the world does this kind of thing better than Deaver’ Lee Child Deaver’s most riveting, most twisty, most unputdownable novel yet’ Karin Slaughter ‘Deaver grips from the very first line and never lets up’ Peter James ‘The very definition of a page-turner’ Ian Rankin ‘Lightning-fast and loaded with twists’ Harlan Coben ‘With The Never Game you know you are in the hands of a master’ Peter Robinson
Star-crossed teenage lovers finally reunite for a second chance
Losing Miranda broke Matt Grimes’s heart—and kept him from knowledge of his impending fatherhood. Now Miranda Contreras has returned to Rocking Chair, Texas—with their eight-year-old daughter. In search of safe haven, this runaway bride needs to regroup. Matt should be angry! What other secrets is Miranda keeping? But all he sees is a chance to be the family they were meant to be.
Since 2002, USA TODAY bestselling author JUDY DUARTE has written over forty books for Mills & Boon, 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 travelling with her husband and spending quali-ty time with her grandchildren. You can learn more about Judy and her books on her website, judyduarte.com (http://www.judyduarte.com), or at Facebook.com/judyduartenovelist (http://www.Facebook.com/judyduartenovelist)
Also by Judy Duarte (#uebdb2155-79e0-5d8b-95c4-7f6be9b559b7)
Roping in the Cowgirl
The Bronc Rider’s Baby
A Cowboy Family Christmas
The Soldier’s Twin Surprise
The Lawman’s Convenient Family
Wed by Fortune
From Fortune to Family Man
No Ordinary Fortune
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
The Cowboy’s Secret Family
Judy Duarte
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09118-3
THE COWBOY’S SECRET FAMILY
© 2019 Judy Duarte
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To “Honey” Colwell,
my fur grandchild and the inspiration for
Sweetie Pie, the rescued stray dog in
The Cowboy’s Secret Family. No matter how many times Honey gets sprayed by Eau de Stink, she’s determined to catch the rascally skunk that prowls the neighbourhood at night. Maybe next time, Honey.
And to Jeff and Sarah Colwell.
Thank you for the opportunity to spend a
special summer with Emalee and Katie, my
two granddaughters, and a barnyard menagerie
consisting of one overly protective shepherd mix,
six free-range chickens, two 4-H lambs and a
couple of horses. Love you, guys!
Contents
Cover (#uda61b72d-7d24-5d3c-b659-890892521c0f)
Back Cover Text (#ud8907c37-d81f-5937-9bd6-1f8db80fbfb3)
About the Author (#u894d28f4-e2a0-5da2-ac6a-f8237a220be7)
Booklist (#uae03f413-54d6-51dd-812b-5c9caa2783f0)
Title Page (#uf24c8703-b3f5-5919-ad72-f365d444fb9f)
Copyright (#uff88c6e6-ac80-5986-9e9e-a447794b815d)
Dedication (#u706f9990-0703-5e64-82cb-3b99da0959ce)
Chapter One (#uba259806-2848-57d8-8364-06a420433647)
Chapter Two (#u3373c864-b12a-5dba-a1fa-447398ccb307)
Chapter Three (#u0c50a879-b914-50b1-96c6-c62d75e16f2b)
Chapter Four (#ud4210b93-a1dc-5a52-bd3d-9bd124863e49)
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)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#uebdb2155-79e0-5d8b-95c4-7f6be9b559b7)
The new Dodge Ram pickup bounced along the graveled drive that led to the Double G Ranch, where Matt Grimes intended to hole up until he recovered from his injury and could return to the rodeo circuit.
The afternoon sun’s glare was damn near blinding, so he reached for the visor, only to miss spotting another pothole, this one bigger than the last. Pain shot through his bum knee, and he swore under his breath. He’d have to convince Uncle George that it was finally time to pave the blasted road or they’d need an all-terrain vehicle to get to the house.
Matt hadn’t been home since the Christmas before last, so he probably should have called to let his uncle know he was coming, but he’d decided to surprise him.
He swerved to avoid another hole, a quick move that jarred his knee again, and he gritted his teeth in pain. The last bull he’d ridden, Grave Digger, had thrown him to the ground, stepping on him in the process. He hadn’t suffered a fracture, only tissue damage. But it hurt like hell, and the doctor seemed to think it would take a while for him to heal.
But come hell or high water, Matt was determined to compete in the Rocking Chair Rodeo, which would benefit two of his favorite charities—a local home for retired cowboys, as well as one for abused and neglected kids. On top of that, Esteban Enterprises had used Matt’s name to promote the rodeo, and all the ads and posters sported his photo and practically claimed Local Boy Makes Good. Hopefully, he’d heal quickly so he could live up to the hype.
When he pulled up to the small ranch house and parked, he remained behind the wheel for a while, rubbing the ache in his knee and stunned as he scanned the yard and noticed how different things were. Damn. His uncle had been busy. No wonder he hadn’t gotten around to fixing the road yet.
A lamb stood under a canopy covering part of a small pen near the barn. A new chicken coop had been built, too, with several hens clucking and pecking at the ground. A black-and-white Shetland pony was corralled near the house and an unfamiliar car was parked in the drive.
What in the hell was going on? Had Uncle George hired someone new? He had ranch hands who worked the cattle, but he’d never put a lot of effort into the yard.
Matt climbed out of the truck, wincing when he put weight on his right leg. As he reached for his cane, a mixed-breed dog wearing a red Western kerchief around its neck rushed at him, barking as if it had super-canine strength and planned to take on a pack of wolves.
Before Matt had to fend off the shepherd-mix with his cane, Uncle George stepped out onto the porch from inside the house, squinting at the glare caused by the sunlight hitting a metal wind chime—a fancy addition that hadn’t been there before.
George lifted his hand to shade his eyes and called off the stupid mutt. It obeyed the old man’s gruff tone, but it still eyed Matt as if it wasn’t yet convinced he wasn’t a burglar who’d come to rob the ranch at gunpoint.
“What’s going on?” Matt asked, his voice edged with irritation.
The screen door screeched open again, and out walked a little girl in pigtails wearing a white blouse with a green 4-H kerchief tied around her neck, blue jeans and sneakers. The dog took a look at her, wagged its tail and then began barking at Matt all over again.
The girl hurried to the mutt, dropped to her knees and hugged the dog’s neck. “Shush, Sweetie Pie. It’s okay.”
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Uncle George finally said. “My long-lost nephew. What’d you do? Lose your cell phone?”
“I’ve been busy.” While that was true, Matt still should have called. Maybe then he’d know who that little girl was. Had his uncle taken on a babysitting gig to supplement his Social Security? And what was with the menagerie—ponies, chickens, dogs and who knew what else?
A soft breeze kicked up, causing the wind chime to tinkle, while Matt tried to make sense of it all. Before he could prod his uncle for an explanation, the girl turned to the house and called out, “Mommy! Hurry up. We’re going to be late to the 4-H meeting.”
Matt leaned on his cane, confused. Dazed. He shot a glance at his uncle. The white-haired man still favored jeans and flannel shirts, like the red one he wore today. His clothes fit him much better. The tall, lanky man had filled out since the last time Matt had been home.
Apparently, “Mommy” was a good cook.
As Matt took a step toward his uncle, his bad knee nearly gave out, causing him to wince and wobble. He used his cane for balance and swore under his breath.
“You’d better sit down before you fall down,” George said. “What’d you do to yourself?”
“Crossed paths with the wrong bull.” Matt hobbled up the steps to the wraparound porch, which was adorned with pots of red geraniums and colorful pansies. He had no idea how long “Mommy” had been here, but long enough to make her mark.
“One day a bull is gonna break your neck instead of your leg,” Uncle George said. “I hope you learned your lesson this time and are finally giving up the rodeo. You’re getting too old for that crazy kid stuff.”
“It’s barely a scratch. I’ll be ready to ride again—or even have another run-in with Grave Digger—in a few weeks.” Matt glanced at the colorful heart-shaped welcome mat at the door. “Is my room available?”
His uncle gestured to one of the rockers on the porch. “Your room is always ready for you. I keep thinking you’ll finally come to your senses and move home where you belong.”
Matt limped to a chair. He didn’t really belong anywhere, a lesson he’d learned early on. He took a seat, rested his cane against the small wicker table and set his rocker in motion. His uncle sat in the chair next to his.
For a moment, he savored the familiar earthy scent of the only place that came close to being the home he could actually call his own. But now he wasn’t so sure about that. Apparently, a lot had changed in the past year and a half.
Matt lowered his voice and asked, “So what’s going on?”
His uncle shrugged a single shoulder, then placed an arthritic index finger to his lips and shushed him. “Hold your questions for a while.”
Matt nodded as if that made perfect sense, but nothing about this situation did, and his curiosity grew to the point that it was downright troublesome.
He studied the child. She was a cute little thing. He guessed her to be about six or seven.
She cocked her head to the side, one brown pigtail dangling over her shoulder, and eyed Matt carefully. “Who are you?”
He could ask her the same thing, but he supposed he’d have wait until after she and her mother left to have the bulk of his questions answered.
“I’m Matt,” he said.
“Oh.” She nodded, her pigtails swishing up and down. “You’re the cowboy who used to live here. That’s what I thought. I’m Emily. Me and my mom are staying here. We’ll probably go home someday, but I hope we don’t. I like having a big yard.”
So Emily and “Mommy” lived in a town. Or in a city.
The screen door squeaked open once again and a twenty-something brunette stepped onto the porch. She shielded her eyes from the sun’s glare off the metal chimes with her hand, blocking her face, but recognition slammed into Matt like a bull out of the shoot.
