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A Cowboy Christmas
Ann Major
A Christmas BabyLogan Taylor gets the shock of his life when Cassidy Ortiz announces she's pregnant…with his child! The widowed rancher wasn't looking for another relationship, but this is Logan's chance to be a father at last. Is he ready to risk his heart and share the most wondrous gift of all–just in time for the holidays?Marry Me, CowboyDarla Baker's determined to get her high school sweetheart out of her system once and for all. But the sexy rancher and single father isn't letting the girl who got away…get away again. Now he's just waiting to hear the three little words that will give them a Christmas they'll never forget.
A mud-slinging battle ensued until every inch of their clothing was covered in smelly muck.
“Enough!” Logan hollered, collapsing on the embankment, sides heaving with laughter.
Fletcher fell down next to him, chuckling. “Man, I haven’t heard you laugh like that in a long time.”
His friend’s words sobered Logan. He struggled to catch his breath.
A long silence stretched between the men, then Fletcher spoke. “You think I should have given Sandi a second chance—for Danny’s sake?”
The two men were thirty years old, their birthdays two weeks apart in July. They’d been friends since kindergarten and had stuck by each other through thick and thin. Through divorce and death.
“Did Sandi want a second chance?” Logan asked.
“No.”
“Did you want a second chance with her?”
“No.” Fletcher released a loud gust of air from his lungs. “If Bethany had cheated on you, would you have divorced her?”
“I don’t know.” Logan wished Bethany had cheated, instead of dying. “We’re a real pair, aren’t we?”
Dear Reader,
I love writing about cowboys and what a treat it’s been writing not one but two cowboy Christmas stories. In A Cowboy Christmas best friends Logan Taylor and Fletcher McFadden have each recently struggled through hard times and they’re hesitant to give love a try again. Logan must find the courage to move on after his wife’s death and Fletcher struggles with dating and single fatherhood after his recent divorce.
Christmas isn’t just a holiday for presents and parties. It’s also a time for forgiveness and new beginnings. I hope you enjoy reading how Logan and Fletcher find their happy-ever-afters with the women they least expected to.
May the spirit of Christmas fill your heart and bring many blessings to you and your loved ones.
For more information on my books visit www.marinthomas.com. For up-to-date news on Harlequin American Romance authors and their books visit www.harauthors.blogspot.com.
Happy reading!
Marin
A Cowboy Christmas
A Christmas Baby
Marry Me, Cowboy
Marin Thomas
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marin Thomas grew up in Janesville, Wisconsin. She attended the University of Arizona in Tucson on a Division I basketball scholarship. In 1986 she graduated with a B.A. in radio-television and married her college sweetheart in a five-minute ceremony in Las Vegas. Marin was inducted in May 2005 into the Janesville Sports Hall of Fame for her basketball accomplishments. Even though she now calls Chicago home, she’s a living testament to the old adage “You can take the girl out of the small town, but you can’t take the small town out of the girl.” Marin’s heart still lies in small-town life, which she loves to write about in her books.
Contents
A CHRISTMAS BABY
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
MARRY ME, COWBOY
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
A Christmas Baby
To my son, Thomas—
congratulations on your high school graduation!
I’m proud of the wonderful young man you’ve become. Whatever path you choose in life I hope it brings you
happiness, joy and most of all love.
Go get ’em, Dude!
Chapter One
“How the hell did your bull end up in my mud bog?” Logan Taylor asked his best friend and neighbor, Fletcher McFadden. Fletcher had called Logan a half hour ago requesting help. Luckily Logan had his cell phone with him in the barn where he’d been mucking out stalls.
“Danny left the gate open again.” Danny was Fletcher’s seven-year-old son. The kid was a handful.
Logan didn’t comment on the boy’s carelessness. Danny was going through a rough patch after Fletcher and the boy’s mother divorced. Come to think about it, all three of them—Danny, Fletcher and himself—had seen better days. “I brought a sling,” Logan said. He’d also loaded a few hay bales into the truck bed. He’d spread the hay around the edge of the bog to help the bull gain its footing after the animal was freed. He motioned to Fletcher who stood knee-deep in muck. “What do you plan to do—push the bull end over end until he rolls out of there?”
“Ha, ha. Hurry up, hoss. My feet are numb.”
Logan tossed two ends of the sling through the air. A warm spell had ushered in the first week of December, but a chill hung in the early-morning air and white clouds puffed from Fletcher’s mouth as he struggled to work the harness beneath the ten inches of space between the bull’s belly and the mud.
“You ever think about fixing this bog?” Fletcher grunted.
Granted, Logan should have filled the mud hole long ago. The problem was he didn’t give a crap about much anymore. After Bethany died everything had lost its urgency. He was marking time. Waiting for something to change his life. Waiting for…just waiting.
Although Fletcher had his share of troubles recovering from a divorce and raising a son, he’d tried to drag Logan back into the world of the living after Bethany’s death. Logan appreciated his friend’s concern but preferred a solitary existence.
“All set.” Fletcher flung the ends of the harness over the bull’s body and Logan secured them to the trailer hitch on his truck.
“I can’t lose this bull to a broken leg,” Fletcher warned.
The McFaddens raised some of the best breeding bulls in Texas. “How much is he worth?” Logan asked.
“So much he ain’t for sale.”
Logan removed a pair of wire cutters from his pocket and opened the bales in the truck bed. After tossing the hay along the edge of the bog he hopped in his truck.
“Nice and easy!” Fletcher hollered.
Nice and easy was the only way to pull a two-thousand-pound hunk of beef from a muddy hole. Logan pressed the accelerator and the truck’s tires dug into the earth. He checked his side mirror. Fletcher had his shoulder jammed against the bull’s side, trying to coax it to move its legs.
The animal slowly toppled onto its side. With steady pressure on the gas pedal, Logan moved the truck a few feet forward. For a second the bull sank beneath the mud, only the whites of its eyes visible. Logan gave the truck a little more gas and the animal’s head emerged.
“Keep going,” Fletcher said. “He’s almost to the edge.”
The diesel truck engine groaned in protest, but finally the bull reached solid ground. Logan dragged its body a few more feet until the bull lay on the hay, then he cut the engine and rushed to untie the harness from the hitch before the animal became tangled.
The bull’s sides heaved with exertion but after Logan slapped its hind quarters, the animal scrambled to its feet, slipping once but remaining upright. He trotted off, bellowing in disgust.
“You coming out of there?”
“I can’t feel my legs,” Fletcher complained.
Logan grinned.
“Give me your hand.”
“Sorry, buddy. No can do.” Logan wasn’t about to risk falling into the bog. “Here.” He threw one end of the harness and Fletcher snatched it mid-air, then Logan tied the other end to the trailer hitch.
“Take it easy. These are my favorite boots.”
Not for long, buddy. Logan hopped into the front seat and revved the engine. “Hang on!” As soon as Fletcher tightened his grip, Logan pressed the gas—hard—and the truck exploded forward. Fletcher flew through the air, sans boots, and landed on his belly at the edge of the bog. When he tried to stand, Logan hit the gas again and dragged Fletcher through the hay.
“God damn it, Logan!” Fletcher released the ends of the harness and attempted to stand. His feet slid out from under him and he went down a second time.
“You look like the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz,” Logan called out the truck window.
“Think that’s funny, eh?”
Logan hopped out of the truck and went to help his friend stand. Fletcher grasped Logan’s wrist and yanked. Logan stumbled forward, bumping Fletcher, and the two men toppled over like felled trees into the muck.
From there things went downhill faster than a California mudslide.
“You shithead.” Fletcher flung a clump of mud at Logan’s chest.
“You would have done the same thing if it had been me standing in that bog.” Logan landed a mud ball against the side of Fletcher’s head.
A mud-slinging battle ensued until every inch of their clothing was covered in smelly muck. “Enough!” Logan hollered, collapsing on the embankment, sides heaving with laughter.
Fletcher fell down next to him, chuckling. “Man, I haven’t heard you laugh like that in a hell of a long time.”
His friend’s words sobered Logan. He struggled to catch his breath. Now that the fun was over, his body felt chilled.
A long silence stretched between the men, then Fletcher spoke.
“You think I should have given Sandi a second chance—for Danny’s sake?”
The two men were thirty years old, their birthdays two weeks apart in July. They’d been friends since kindergarten and had stuck by each other through thick and thin. Through divorce and death.
“Did Sandi want a second chance?” Logan asked.
“No.”
“Did you want a second chance with her?” Logan asked.
“No.” Fletcher released a loud gust of air from his lungs. “If Bethany had cheated on you, would you have divorced her?”
“I don’t know.” Logan wished Bethany had cheated. Pretty damned difficult to work out marriage troubles with a dead spouse. “Stop beating yourself up over the divorce. Danny needs time to adjust is all.”
“You’re probably right.” Fletcher punched Logan in the arm. “I met a woman named Daisy on MySpace.” Fletcher had set up a MySpace page months ago and had tried to persuade Logan to join in the fun. He’d refused.
“Daisy? What the hell kind of name is that?”
“Everyone uses fake names on MySpace,” Fletcher said.
“What’s your handle?”
“Leonard. Lenny for short.” He grinned.
