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Her Cowboy Reunion
Ruth Logan Herne
A new life…an old loveCan she risk loving him again in Shepherd's Crossing?With her family in disgrace, Lizzie Fitzgerald never imagined she'd end up at an Idaho ranch. Fortunately, she's working with horses she loves—even if it means dealing with her old sweetheart Heath Caufield. The widowed father of an adorable boy, Heath hasn't forgiven Lizzie for their past. But even a stubborn cowboy can't stop the heart's ability to forgive…or love again.
A new life...an old love
Can she risk loving him again in Shepherd’s Crossing?
With her family in disgrace, Lizzie Fitzgerald never imagined she’d end up at an Idaho ranch. Fortunately, she’s working with horses she loves—even if it means dealing with her old sweetheart Heath Caufield. The widowed father of an adorable boy, Heath hasn’t forgiven Lizzie for their past. But even a stubborn cowboy can’t stop the heart’s ability to forgive...or love again.
Multipublished bestselling author RUTH LOGAN HERNE loves God, her country, her family, dogs, chocolate and coffee! Married to a very patient man, she lives in an old farmhouse in upstate New York and thinks possums should leave the cat food alone and snakes should always live outside. There are no exceptions to either rule! Visit Ruth at ruthloganherne.com (http://ruthloganherne.com).
Also By Ruth Logan Herne (#u29fe8c63-17b9-51bb-9be1-f130d86df8b4)
Love Inspired
Shepherd’s Crossing
Her Cowboy Reunion
Grace Haven
An Unexpected Groom
Her Unexpected Family
Their Surprise Daddy
The Lawman’s Yuletide Baby
Her Secret Daughter
Kirkwood Lake
The Lawman’s Second Chance
Falling for the Lawman
The Lawman’s Holiday Wish
Loving the Lawman
Her Holiday Family
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Her Cowboy Reunion
Ruth Logan Herne
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08552-6
HER COWBOY REUNION
© 2018 Ruth M. Blodgett
Published in Great Britain 2018
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)
“I’m going to bunk here so I can keep an eye on things...”
Lizzie was going to sleep in the stable? On the floor?
It felt wrong to leave her there, which was silly because Heath had spent many a night in the lambing barns. But this wasn’t him. It was Lizzie. And when she stuck a ridiculously small pillow behind her head, he wanted to snatch it, send her to bed and say he’d watch the horse.
She gazed up at him, looking so much like the girl she’d been twelve years before. But different, too.
“It’s my job, Heath.” She kept her voice quiet. Matter-of-fact. And quite professional. “People don’t inherit a quarter share of a ranch worth millions without putting in some time. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She was right. He knew that.
But walking away from her—moving through the door into the cold spring night—was one of the toughest things he’d done in a long time.
He did it because it was the right thing to do. But he hated every minute of it.
And above all these things put on charity, which is the bond of perfectness. And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to the which also ye are called in one body; and be ye thankful.
—Colossians 3:14–15
Dear Reader (#u29fe8c63-17b9-51bb-9be1-f130d86df8b4),
I loved writing this story. I loved writing it because it gave me a chance to explore the two sides of forgiveness, and how our choices combine with our faith to make or break our paths in this world. Lizzie went through a tragic time at the age of eighteen. She should have had the best of everything by society’s standards, and yet it all came crumbling down around her and she took the challenge and lived her faith. Moving on. Moving forward. Forgiving even though she could never forget.
But Heath carried his anger like a hankie in a back pocket. He believed without question and let anger eat at him for years.
Grudges are dreadful things. There are a lot of grudge holders in my family. I guess there are grudge holders in lots of families, but what a sadness that is, to be angry and then stay angry...for how long? Too long.
Forgiveness isn’t just a Biblical reminder. It’s sound advice. It’s the basis for so much good in the world. That doesn’t make it easy, I know...but it makes it worthwhile. A true heart is a forgiving heart.
I hope you loved this story! Thank you for reading it, and you know I love to hear from readers, so feel free to email me at loganherne@gmail.com or friend me on Facebook where I love to play and pray with readers, family and friends. And if you’re wondering what’s happening, visit my website ruthloganherne.com (http://www.ruthloganherne.com) or follow me @RuthLoganHerne (https://twitter.com/ruthloganherne) on Twitter.
May you and yours be blessed in every way possible!
Ruthy
This book is dedicated to Casey...
I was blessed to help raise you and I’m absolutely delighted with the wonderful young woman you’ve become. You are a part of us...and always will be. You can’t get rid of me easily!!! Love you, kid.
Contents
Cover (#u02ab1c75-4c30-5cac-aec7-7673dfaf6d51)
Back Cover Text (#ub94c0f91-23bf-5b20-865b-ab16b569e827)
About the Author (#ucce8aade-219e-5813-8877-b91ed1cd8699)
Booklist (#u8f4c2880-940e-5feb-ad52-3026d5c76480)
Title Page (#u83509461-07e9-52b7-9015-ad56b77f943b)
Copyright (#u468fd0ce-2508-5a42-a890-042014a66f18)
Introduction (#uccf4bed2-8213-5f6f-b5c8-8816932b339c)
Bible Verse (#ubba1d27a-136f-529c-9488-5adaef8a4826)
Dear Reader (#u3db8a185-6e32-5ec9-af43-e6cf8d88756b)
Dedication (#u77fecf31-466e-5bff-abec-a6eacde8e07b)
Chapter One (#u155a54da-199a-5552-885b-b0a523aa6c08)
Chapter Two (#ue42c110c-6f7f-5fdc-b904-667c95f57026)
Chapter Three (#u63e92398-65b8-56f3-9653-073727c96d37)
Chapter Four (#uab42f646-ab40-5db7-83ff-c13338d25581)
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)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u29fe8c63-17b9-51bb-9be1-f130d86df8b4)
This is the chance you’ve been waiting for. Hoping for. Praying for. Don’t blow it.
Lizzie Fitzgerald climbed out of an SUV more suited to her rich past than her impoverished present.
Her late uncle’s Western Idaho ranch splayed around her like an old-fashioned wagon wheel, spreading wide from the farmhouse hub. Straight south lay sheep barns forming a huge letter T. The sound of sheep and dogs rose up from beyond the barns where woolly creatures dotted rolling fields like white sprinkles on a kelly green cake.
On her left the long, curving graveled drive wound past a copse of newly leafed trees to the two-lane country road above. Behind her was a classic Western home. Two stories, wrapped in honey-brown cedar and a porch that extended across the front and down both sides. Two swings and a variety of rockers decked the porch.
“No doubt I will spend my share of time on that porch as the weather warms,” said Corrie as she stepped from the other side of the car. “What a pretty place this is, Lizzie-Beth! But I can see your attention is drawn to what brought us here.” She dipped her chin toward Lizzie’s right. “Your uncle’s passing and his love for horses. A family trait. Or downfall,” she added softly.
“It won’t be this time.” Lizzie strode toward the freshly built stables. “Not with someone willing to put in the effort. It wasn’t horses that brought down Claremorris,” she reminded Corrie, the stout African American woman who had raised Lizzie and her two sisters at the stately Kentucky horse farm. “It was greed and dishonesty. This will be different, Corrie. You’ll see.”
“I’ll pray it different, right beside you,” Corrie declared. “Then we’ll see, Sugar. You explore your new place. I’m going to see if there’s a restroom close by.”
Lizzie walked toward the classic U-shaped stable configuration while Corrie disappeared into the house. Two equine wings stretched from opposite ends of the central barn. A row of stable doors faced the groomed square of grass that was surrounded by a hoof-friendly walking area. Six windows lined the face of the central barn, facing the equine courtyard. Curtains in the upper windows suggested living quarters, much like they’d had in their Kentucky stable. The whole concept was modeled after the Celtic horse farms her great-grandparents had known in Ireland. Uncle Sean might not have liked the newspaper publishing business that made the family’s fortune, but he clearly appreciated their Irish roots.
A horse nickered from its stall. Another answered softly.
Then quiet stretched as if wondering about her. Testing her.
Footsteps approached across the gravel. She turned.
A cowboy strode her way, looking just as classic as the ranch around him. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Narrow-hipped. And...familiar. As if—
Lizzie pushed that thought aside. She’d loved a cowboy once, with all the sweet intensity of first love, but that was a dozen years and a lot of heartache past. And yet—
