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The Cowgirl's Forever Family
Helen Lacey
ONE WEEK TO BUILD A HAPPY-EVER-AFTER?The cowgirl: Brooke Laughton wants one thing: the family she can't have. When a gorgeous man and a giggling baby girl step onto her Cedar River ranch, her dream comes true. Or so she hopes…The city-boy: Tyler Madden wants to find the baby's unwitting birth father–Brooke's missing brother–and fulfill a promise to the late mother. Then he can go back to his lucrative law practice. Or so he hopes…But one little baby has a different agenda. Little Cara wants a family…and the lonely cowgirl and the commitment-phobic lawyer are just the mommy and daddy she needs! She's got one week to show them what's right in front of them. Desire. Love. And the promise of a forever family…
One Week To Build A Happy-Ever-After?
The cowgirl: Brooke Laughton wants one thing: the family she can’t have. When a gorgeous man and a giggling baby girl step onto her Cedar River ranch, her dream comes true. Or so she hopes...
The city boy: Tyler Madden wants to find the baby’s unwitting birth father—Brooke’s missing brother—and fulfill a promise to the late mother. Then he can go back to his lucrative law practice. Or so he hopes...
But one little baby has a different agenda. Little Cara wants a family...and the lonely cowgirl and the commitment-phobic lawyer are just the mommy and daddy she needs! She’s got one week to show them what’s right in front of them. Desire. Love. And the promise of a forever family...
Man and baby took her breath away.
Standing in her driveway, Tyler looked too gorgeous for her peace of mind. It took two seconds to figure out she wasn’t immune to him. She’d been out of action when it came to dating and sex. But right then, in low-riding jeans and a baby on his hip, Tyler was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. And her hibernating libido immediately kick-started out of slumber.
“You wanted me,” he said, his blistering gaze connecting with hers. “So you have me.”
She could have played dumb, but she knew she’d swindled him out of his hotel and onto her ranch. “So you’ll stay?”
“We’ll stay. For a week.”
Part of her was delighted but another part was nervous. After two years, sharing her home with a man tied her belly in knots.
This is about the baby...not him.
She took a deep breath and led him inside. As he entered, he turned to look at her. A gust of awareness swept the house, an intimacy that defied logic and made her hot all over. His gaze held her captive, and no matter how she tried, she couldn’t look away.
It was going to be a long week.
* * *
The Cedar Rivier Cowboys: Riding into town with romance on their minds!
Dear Reader (#ulink_93b75140-4c1b-5850-a818-d095951bbe4b),
Welcome back to Cedar River, South Dakota! Also welcome to my tenth book for Harlequin Special Edition, The Cowgirl’s Forever Family.
Brooke Laughton is a former barrel racer turned rancher. She’s also a kind and generous woman who longs for a family of her own—something she believes she will never have after a long-running battle with infertility. But when a handsome stranger turns up on her doorstep with a baby in his arms, she feels like someone may have just handed her the moon. The baby is the motherless child of her younger and absent brother, and the stranger is Tyler Madden, a New York lawyer who is now calling all the shots regarding her niece. As she tries to get her brother to come home and keep the bank from foreclosing on the ranch, Brooke realizes that it’s not only the baby who is capturing her heart, but also the no-nonsense, no-commitment man, who is clearly daddy and husband material...even if he doesn’t know it!
I loved writing Brooke and Tyler’s story and seeing how these two very different people became a family together. Families come about in many ways—maybe through partnerships or marriage, birth or adoption—but the binding factor is always love. I do hope you enjoy The Cowgirl’s Forever Family, and I’d like to invite you back to Cedar River very soon for my next book.
I adore hearing from readers and can be reached by email, Twitter and Facebook, or sign up for my newsletter via my website at helenlacey.com (http://helenlacey.com). Please visit anytime, as I love talking about my pets, my horses and of course, cowboys. I’ll also be sharing news about my latest series for Harlequin Special Edition, The Cedar River Cowboys!
Warmest wishes,
Helen Lacey
The Cowgirl’s Forever Family
Helen Lacey
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
HELEN LACEY grew up reading Black Beauty and Little House on the Prairie. These childhood classics inspired her to write her first book when she was seven, a story about a girl and her horse. She loves writing for Mills & Boon Cherish, where she can create strong heroes with a soft heart and heroines with gumption who get their happily-ever-after. For more about Helen, visit her website, www.helenlacey.com (http://www.helenlacey.com).
For my wonderfully supportive editor, Susan Litman—who allowed me the time I needed for this one. Thank you.
Contents
Cover (#u4bed6c91-880e-53b5-9d9d-bfdec1f3cb79)
Back Cover Text (#u29bffc27-a96c-5263-8721-42ec6255bf40)
Introduction (#ue1c938b0-3f20-538b-af24-33069062d968)
Dear Reader (#uabc24aef-6009-5e0e-a608-a362651a7a25)
Title Page (#ue6cddabc-a988-59a5-a3c2-50490eb14be5)
About the Author (#u156195c2-355c-55c5-9e24-562915c79dcf)
Dedication (#ua9c0d04a-b0fb-5279-bf14-e500a7d48b8c)
Chapter One (#uc0338bc8-6a47-5b8d-8c14-3f870862857e)
Chapter Two (#u1d90a674-679a-599c-b8d2-3db9c07c65b2)
Chapter Three (#u9df5fc31-0f66-5bf4-9792-6825a07ee23c)
Chapter Four (#uc6277348-84df-554c-a2eb-1fde8a9a50e8)
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)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_809ef3f4-6172-5f50-a096-f2201546de6d)
Brooke Laughton shot up in bed.
Rubbing her eyes, she quickly checked the clock. Nine twenty. She’d been in bed for less than fifteen minutes. The dogs were barking, which meant either one of the horses were out, a feral cat had found its way into the chicken run again—or someone was skulking around the ranch house.
Swinging her legs off the bed, she pulled on the sweatpants she’d discarded fifteen minutes earlier and grabbed her sweater. The dogs were still barking and she heard a sound—the slam of a car door. Tension snaked up her spine. Not that she was scared. She could handle herself and the rifle she kept stashed in her wardrobe. She grabbed the gun, shoved her feet into a pair of loafers and left the room. The floorboards creaked as she made her way down the hallway and when she reached the living room doorway, she blinked at the lights beaming through the front window.
Headlights.
Brooke went to the front door and placed the rifle by the jamb. She had a security screen and since the dogs were still going ballistic, she felt safe enough to open the door and see what was going on. A light blanket of snow covered the ground and she quickly whistled to her border collies, Trixie and Renaldo, and both dogs immediately left the car and raced up the porch to stand point on either side of the door.
The sensor light flicked on and she waited. A few seconds later the driver’s door opened and a tall figure emerged. No one she knew, she thought, or the dogs would have started whining. Instead they both growled low in the backs of their throats. Waiting for her response. Waiting for her reaction.
A man walked toward the house and stopped at the bottom of the steps. He was tall, broad shouldered and dressed in dark trousers and a long-sleeved white shirt and tie and a long coat. He looked respectable enough. And handsome, if you went for the urban, short hair, clean shaven, city boy look.
Not that she did.
She whistled again for the dogs to stop growling and they silenced quickly. But she didn’t open the screen door. He might look respectable and harmless, but you could never be too sure. Maybe he was lost? Some of the road signs were hard to see in the dark.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“That depends. Are your dogs going to attack me?”
Oh, yeah, city boy. New York if she wasn’t mistaken. “Not unless I give the command,” she replied. “Are you lost?”
“I’m not sure,” he said and walked up the steps, ignoring the dogs, who were now whining more than barking. “I’m looking for the Laughton Ranch?”
He wanted the ranch? Her ranch. Panic set in. Was he from the bank? It seemed unlikely at this time of night...but who would know how these things worked.
“So, you found it,” she said, still keeping the locked door between them.
He nodded, looking slightly relieved. “Is Matthew Laughton around?”
He wanted Matt? Then he wasn’t from the bank. This was something else. She wondered what her wayward brother had done. And who was this guy...a cop? Or worse—a Fed? She felt ridiculous even thinking it. Maybe a bounty hunter? He didn’t look like that, either. But nothing would be a complete surprise when it came to Matt.
“He’s not here.”
The man stepped closer and she got a better look at him. He was remarkably handsome and her belly did a silly flip, which she promptly disregarded. Good-looking men were nothing but heartache.
The man’s gaze narrowed. “When will he be back?”
Brooke shrugged. “I have no idea. What’s this about?”
The man reached inside his pocket and withdrew a small business card. “My name is Tyler Madden and I need to see Matthew Laughton urgently.”
The dogs had settled and that was enough to convince Brooke he wasn’t a threat, so she opened the screen door slowly, pushed it back on the hinges and took the card. She read the words and her stomach sank.
Tyler Madden. Attorney.
She hated lawyers. And this one appeared no different from the other arrogant, slick, condescending mob who were trying to swindle her and steal her ranch—except he was drop-dead handsome. She took a galvanizing breath and spoke in a stern voice. “I don’t know where he is, Mr. Madden. I haven’t seen my brother for five years.”
It was the truth. In a way. Matt hadn’t set foot in Cedar River since their parents’ funeral. But he did still text her every week to let her know he was okay. Which she wasn’t about to admit to this lawyer. This stranger.
“You’re his sister?” He paused, as though accessing some memory. “Brooke Laughton?”
“How do you know my name?”
“It’s my job to know all the facts in a case.”
A case? Her brother was part of a case? It sounded serious. Oh, Matt...what have you done now? A chill coursed over her skin. “Please tell me what this is about. What has Matt done? Is he in trouble?”
“Trouble?” He shook his head. “Not exactly. But I do need to speak with him about something important.”
Brooke sighed heavily. Did she continue to have the discussion on her doorstep or invite him inside? “Lawyers hours are usually nine till five. Isn’t it a little late for a house call? Can’t this wait until the morning?”
He shrugged. “I’m booked into a hotel in town, but when I missed the turnoff I realized I was close to your ranch. And since the issue I need to discuss with your brother is one of high importance, I didn’t think the time mattered.”
It was a logical explanation. Sort of. “That’s easy enough to do,” she said. “They rerouted the highway about seven years ago. There’s only this place and the bigger ranch next door along this road now.” And if she wanted to know more she figured she needed to let him inside. “I suppose you should come in and explain what this is about.”
He hesitated for a second and then spoke. “Ah...sure. Just give me a minute.”
When he turned around and headed back toward the car Brooke stared after him. Maybe he wasn’t so harmless after all? What was he doing in the car? Looking for an axe? A gun?
She glanced at her rifle by the jamb and quickly shook the thought off. Trixie and Renaldo were now by the car, jumping around, seemingly happy that he wasn’t a threat. She trusted her dogs’ instincts. But as he approached the house again she regarded him incredulously.
Because he was carrying a baby.
A baby...
By the time he got to the porch her disbelief had fired up her temper. “You brought a baby with you? In the middle of the night and in this weather? What kind of parent are you? Of all the stupid—”
“This is not my baby,” he said quietly, cutting her off as he walked up the steps, then quickly brushed his shoes off on the mat and came across the threshold.
Brooke stared at the child. It was clearly a baby girl, dressed in an immaculate pink jumpsuit and hood and wrapped in a warm blanket, and she was sleeping peacefully against his shoulder. She looked about a year old, not that Brooke had any experience with infants.
Nor will I...
She pushed the thought from her head. Now wasn’t the time to reminisce about what she would never have. Could never have.
“Then whose...”
“Can I put her down somewhere?” he asked, ignoring her question. “Perhaps the sofa?”
Brooke nodded and closed the door. “Of course. This way.”
