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Her Cowboy Till Christmas
Her Cowboy Till Christmas
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Her Cowboy Till Christmas

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Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#u8af6b2d2-9db1-5cd0-b040-8f261759659b)

It was going to be another lonely Christmas.

Mason Fanning tripped over a toy bulldozer, and his foot landed on an action figure. Oof! Hopping on the other foot, he winced until the sharp pain subsided. His three-year-old son, Noah, was having pizza and watching a Disney movie with Grandma and Grandpa Page like he did most Friday nights. Which left Mason alone, picking up toys and contemplating what to do with himself. The snowy December evening on his cattle ranch near Rendezvous, Wyoming, was ideal for sitting in front of a fire and watching a Christmas movie the way he and Mia used to. But without her in his arms, what would be the point?

Mia was gone.

He missed her. Three years had passed, and it still seemed like her funeral happened yesterday. He missed Ma and Pops, the grandparents who’d raised him, too. He hadn’t felt this alone in a long time.

Mason snatched up the remaining toys and threw them into a basket. It was stupid to indulge in a pity party when he’d been blessed with more than most. Sure, the medical bills Mia left behind put a huge dent in his budget each month, but eventually he’d get the ranch churning out profits again. He’d leave a legacy to pass down to Noah, the way his grandparents had left Fanning Ranch to him.

A knock on the door startled him. No one ever stopped by on Friday nights.

Unless...

The emails and calls he’d been getting from Brittany Green came to mind. He hadn’t answered them. He had nothing to say to her. And since it had been a decade since he’d seen her, the thought of her showing up was laughable, anyhow.

He strode to the entryway. Opened the door.

Snowflakes and familiar ocean-blue eyes greeted him.

Brittany stood there the way she had a million times during their childhood. Her hair was blonder than he remembered. Must have been all the California sunshine. Wearing jeans, a long puffy coat and tall boots, she was still the petite dancer he’d spent every waking minute with each summer growing up.

It had been ten years since their final summer together, and the anger still burned.

He shifted his attention to the man next to her. The world spun. Impossible! The man looked exactly like him. They could have been the same person. He braced his hand against the door frame.

“Mason?” Brittany stepped forward and touched his arm. He shook it off as if it were a scorpion. “Are you okay?”

His brain scrambled to come up with anything that made sense. Nothing did. Was this a practical joke? Who was this guy? How could they look so much alike?

And why was he with Brittany?

“Why are you here?” Mason’s voice was low, gruff.

Her long dark lashes dipped briefly, then revealed eyes swimming with sympathy. “I’m sorry. You look like you’re in shock.”

“Is this some kind of prank? Did you find an actor to impersonate me or something?” He knew he sounded unhinged, but why was she with this guy? This...this...eerie imitation of him?

“Why don’t we go inside?” She motioned to the open doorway.

He didn’t want her in his home. Didn’t want to have to scrub away the memory later. But—he glanced at his spitting image—someone had some explaining to do.

“Make it quick.” Against his better judgment, he shifted sideways to let them in.

“Ryder Fanning.” The man’s face had drained of color, but he stepped forward and held out his hand. “I believe I’m your twin.”

Twin? Twin? He could not have a twin. Ma and Pops would have known about a sibling. They would have told him.

“I’m an only child.” Mason clenched his jaw.

“So am I.” Ryder’s brown eyes, the same caramel shade as his own, had nothing to hide. “At least, I thought I was until I met Brittany.”

“Come on,” Brittany said, gesturing to them both. “This will be easier to figure out sitting down.”

He wanted to escort her pretty five-foot-two-inch frame outside, slam the door shut and enjoy the satisfaction of hurting her the way she’d hurt him, but Ryder being here complicated things. Mason let out a humph, then jerked his chin for Ryder to enter. Hurt and irritation flashed in the man’s eyes, but he moved with an easy, familiar gait into the house.

It was like watching a video of himself.

Brittany made herself right at home at the kitchen table, and Mason resented it more than he thought possible. Sure, she’d been here countless times when she’d spent summers down the road with her grandmother Nan. But this was his table.

Mia’s table.

Brittany didn’t belong here.

As Ryder folded his sculpted frame onto the chair across from her, Mason sat and crossed his arms over his chest. “Someone had better start talking.”

Ryder and Brittany exchanged glances.

“Two weeks ago, I was at my favorite coffee shop.” She gestured with her hands as she talked, and those blue eyes ebbed and flowed with expressiveness. “I was mentally choreographing a solo for Kelly Jo, one of my best teen dancers—you really have to see this girl move, she’s amazing—and I grabbed my coffee and turned to leave. Well, Ryder was right behind me.” She blinked and shrugged. “I freaked out a little and, what do you know, I splashed coffee onto my white sweatshirt. As I was dabbing at it, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I... I thought it was you.”

Brittany hadn’t changed. She always took the scenic route when telling a story. Her voice had wavered at the end. The thought of running into him had obviously bothered her.

Good. It should.

Ryder cleared his throat. “She started asking me why I was in town and how I was, and she threw out names I’d never heard before. My confusion must have been obvious.”

“You had the deer-in-headlights look, but that was to be expected.” A tender smile lifted her lips, and Mason straightened. Were these two a couple? “I was a mess. Of all the times to be such a klutz... My words kept tripping over each other, and I don’t know what I was doing rubbing the stains on my shirt.”

“She kept saying ‘Mason,’ and it hit me she thought I was someone else.” Ryder’s shoulders and eyebrows rose in sync. His movements were so like his own, it made the hair on Mason’s arms rise. “I told her she had the wrong guy. And I introduced myself.”

“As soon as the last name came out of his mouth, I put it together.” She shook her head slightly. “I could barely take it in. Still can’t take it in, and it’s not even happening to me. Mason, Ryder is your identical twin. All this time and you never even knew each other existed. I remember how much you wanted a brother. Now you have one!”

And there it was—the empathy that had always, always drawn him to her. He ground his teeth together. Once upon a time, he thought she knew him in a way no one else did. That she saw through to his essence and, more, that she liked what was there.

She’d been his first love, and the experience had hardened him. Her lies had helped him see what he really wanted in a woman, and he’d found a beautiful, honest, loyal best friend in Mia.

Mia was gone, and Brittany was here. Fury pulsed, hot and surging, but he forced himself to stay calm. Why was he so mad at Brittany, anyway? It had been ten years. They’d been teenagers. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t moved on with his life. He had.

And he’d lost. Again.

Always losing.

“Why’d you come?” He didn’t miss the wariness that flashed in her eyes. “To flaunt your new boyfriend?” He regretted the words instantly. Couldn’t take them back. Didn’t know if he would have, anyway.

“You think we’re...” Ryder pointed to Brittany and back to himself. “Sorry if we gave you that impression. We aren’t... It’s not... Well, I recently went through a difficult divorce, and I have three-year-old twin daughters to raise. I don’t see myself dating anytime soon. Maybe ever.”

Why relief sank into his limbs, he wouldn’t examine. Another thing they had in common. Mason didn’t see himself ever dating again, either. He’d had the love of his life. You only got that once.

He studied Ryder more closely. The resemblance was too much to take, kind of like staring into the sun. If this man was his twin—and there seemed to be no other reasonable explanation—his childhood had been built on a lie.

“Mason, I realize this is hard to accept, but I hope you’ll get used to the idea. I mean, you have a brother. How cool is that?” Brittany’s soft tone irritated him. As did the way she was trying to soothe him.

“You have no right to come in here and act like old times.”

“Old times? I’m not... Aren’t you the teensiest bit happy you have a brother?” Her face paled as she shook her head in disgust. “What happened to you?”

He closed his eyes briefly. What had happened to him?

The woman he’d cherished—the mother of his precious son—had died of cancer. That’s what had happened.

And three years later, he still hadn’t figured out how to move on.

“I can see this was a huge mistake.” The legs of the chair scraped against the floor as Brittany rose to stand. Mason acted like she’d happily skipped up here in some warped attempt to see him suffer. The last place she wanted to be was Rendezvous. Santa Ana was her home. She had people—mostly dance students—who genuinely liked her, who didn’t look at her like she was a scab they’d picked off an old wound. “I’m sorry for putting you through this, Ryder.”

She glanced at Mason to catch his reaction. The vein in his forehead throbbed.

Good.

She’d tried to call him. Emailed him again and again.

“Don’t be. I asked you to come.” The planes of Ryder’s face were as sharp as his voice. He turned to Mason. “I figured she’d provide a buffer, introduce us. Maybe this was a mistake. I’ve always wanted a brother, but...”

Brittany could have filled in the rest. Not if the brother is you, you big jerk.

Since Ryder made no movement to leave, she stood behind her chair. The kitchen had changed since she’d last been here. She’d been eighteen then, and Mason’s grandparents had still been alive. Since then, the oak cabinets had been painted white, new countertops gleamed and hardwood floors had replaced the cracked linoleum. The farmhouse charm was still there. Too bad it was the only charm left—Mason certainly had none.

The brothers were engaged in a charged stare-off. The tension made her rise on her tiptoes as they really studied each other for the first time. A look of wonder accompanied Mason’s quick intake of breath. Finally. She slipped back into her seat. They’d been here for ten minutes, and it had taken Mason all ten to acknowledge reality.

“When is your birthday?” he asked Ryder.

“February 1.” He leaned back, wariness in his eyes. “I was born in Colorado Springs. Raised in Billings, Montana.”

Mason looked green.

Brittany resisted the urge to smirk. Did he really think she’d have come all this way if Ryder wasn’t the real thing?

Ryder tapped his fingernails on the table. “My parents were John and Lisa Fanning. Died in a head-on collision when I was a week old.”

Mason flicked her a glance, and she could see his doubts disappearing. If she knew him at all, she’d say he wasn’t quite ready to accept Ryder’s word yet.

“Brittany could have told you all that.” The bravado in Mason’s voice was all bluff, and she could have called him out on it, but she stayed silent. This wasn’t her battle. She had enough of those of her own right now.

“She could have, but she didn’t,” Ryder said. “Let’s cut to the chase. We have the same parents, were born on the same day and in the same hospital. We look alike. I’m sure we have a lot of other things in common, too.”

“Okay, so we’re brothers.” Mason ran his fingers through his hair. “Twins. Identical, clearly. How did we get separated?”

Ryder shrugged. “I wish I had the answer to that. My grandparents raised me, and they both died a while back. I don’t have any other family—well, that I know of. And in the two weeks since finding out you existed, I haven’t gotten up the nerve to dig into the whys.”

“I didn’t even know my other set of grandparents.”

“Bo and Shirley Gatlin could be overbearing sometimes, but I think they couldn’t handle the fact their daughter was gone. I hate to even tell you this, but they told me my other grandparents had died.”

“I was told the same.”

“Unbelievable,” Ryder muttered under his breath.

The ticking of the hall clock broke up the ensuing silence. Part of Brittany was relieved Mason had accepted Ryder was his twin. And part of her was still bristling over his rude reception.

“Look, I don’t know where to take this. What do you want from me?” Mason’s voice was gravelly.

“Want from you? Why would I want anything?” Ryder’s face twisted in confusion. “I don’t have any other family. Not anymore. I thought it would be great to have a brother. But maybe you don’t feel the same.”

Tension, thick and ripe, hung in the air. Brittany drew faint circles on the floor with the toe of her boot. What she wouldn’t give to interpret the mood through dance. She mentally tucked away the sensation to choreograph a lyrical number later.

“I don’t know what to think,” Mason said.

“I see.” Ryder stood, disappointment dripping off him like a hard rain. Brittany’s heart broke a little. He’d come all this way and she was responsible. He hitched his chin to Mason. “I’m staying at the Mountain View Inn until Sunday afternoon. If you’re interested in getting to know me, call me. If not, I guess this is goodbye.”

Brittany scrambled to her feet. This wasn’t how she’d pictured their meeting going. She wanted to talk sense into Mason, but his face said it all. The man had been born stubborn. He was allergic to change. Always had been.

But he’d also been reliable and trustworthy. Kind. A man of his word.

She opened her mouth to say something, to make it better, but what could she say? She barely knew him anymore. Ten years had changed him.

Ten years had changed her, too.

“Wait.” Mason’s voice softened. “I do want to get to know you. I’m just... This has been... Well, I think I need some time to process everything.”

Ryder took out his wallet and handed Mason a business card. “Here’s my cell number. Call me when you’re ready. We’ll figure out how to move forward.” Then he walked out of the kitchen and back down the hall toward the entry.

Brittany turned to Mason. “I tried to contact you. I didn’t come here to upset you.”

His lips were drawn together in a tight line, and his brown eyes were hard, as hard as she’d ever seen them. Ryder was already halfway down the hall, so she pivoted to follow him. A framed photograph of Mason with his arm around a beautiful brunette holding a small baby mocked Brittany on the way out. Their love for each other radiated from the photo.

Her chest tightened, and she forced her legs forward. She’d had that kind of love for a few short months. But she’d been immature, scared of her feelings and unwilling to consider a future she hadn’t planned out. Her dishonesty had cost her dearly.

The bottom line? She had always put her personal ambitions above love. She had then. She did now. Her relationships never lasted long, and she’d made peace with that.

Until she had her own dance studio, she wasn’t diverting her energy to a here-today-gone-tomorrow romance. Making a name for herself in dance had been her goal ever since she was a child, and sometimes it felt further away than ever. She’d already surrendered her dreams of becoming a professional dancer. But she could still help other girls realize their dreams...if a bank would approve a line of credit so she could lease her own studio space.

Ryder held the front door open, and she nodded her thanks. She would enjoy this long-overdue visit with Nan, return to Santa Ana after Christmas and, in the meantime, pray the bank would call with the good news that her line of credit had been approved. A spot in a strip mall would be vacant in January. She had enough cash to pay for some of the renovations, but it would take several months to attract enough students to cover all her expenses.

If the bank turned her down, she’d have to reinvent herself, because she couldn’t keep doing this anymore. Years of working odd jobs to pay off her student loans and save for the studio had taken their toll.