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Million-Dollar Maverick
Christine Rimmer
Finding true love: priceless RUST CREEK RAMBLINGS People say that the odds of finding your perfect partner are rather like the odds of hitting the lottery: slim to none. It's hard to believe, faithful readers, but Nate Crawford may just have accomplished both. We have the scoop on Rust Creek Falls' best-kept secret: our former mayoral candidate is now a very wealthy man! Yet he is going out of his way to make sure no one finds out. The question is, why? Insiders whisper that Nate is also keeping another secret from his new girlfriend, nurse Callie Kennedy - a big one - and it could be a game changer. Place your bets, dear readers! What will she do when she learns her "regular guy" boyfriend is really a maverick millionaire?
“I shouldn’t have been kissing you,” he muttered darkly, as a warning.
“I’m not a good bet. There’s something … broken in me, you know? I haven’t been such a good man in the years since I moved back home. I’ve been a Crawford through and through, you might say—too proud and too sure I knew every damn thing. You are a quality woman. You deserve a better man than me.”
She only looked at him, eyes wide, bright with the sheen of unshed tears. He wanted to grab her and start kissing her all over again.
And that couldn’t happen. He made himself clearer. “The last eight years, since I’ve been back in town, I’ve gone out with several women. But it never ends well.”
Callie kept her gaze level. He couldn’t tell what she might be thinking. “I understand,” she said.
He leaned a little closer. “Do you really?”
“I do, Nate. Although I happen to think you’re a much better man than you’re giving yourself credit for.”
“You’re just softhearted.”
She gave a tiny shrug. “Maybe I am.”
Dear Reader (#u9c40d0c2-58dc-5ed6-8cf6-888613620b01),
Welcome back to Rust Creek Falls, Montana—and the twenty-year anniversary of Mills & Boon’s fabulous Montana Mavericks series. Last year, the Fourth of July Flood of the Century almost washed Rust Creek Falls away.
But the small, close-knit community pulled together and survived. Now Rust Creek Falls is coming back better than ever. There’s a lot of rebuilding going on and several interesting newcomers to town—including a few memorable characters from the past two decades of Montana Mavericks stories.
Yep. Things have changed a lot since last year. Especially for Nathan Crawford. You may remember Nate. A community leader, he made some bad choices and did a few good people wrong. You could say he was the villain of last year’s series.
Not this year. Nate’s come into some serious money and he’s out to make up for the bad things he’s done. It’s a tough job to right all those old wrongs. But his heroine, intrepid, bighearted nurse Callie Kennedy, is just the woman to help him with that.
I hope you enjoy this Montana Mavericks story—and all those to come.
Yours always,
Christine Rimmer
Million-Dollar Maverick
Christine Rimmer
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHRISTINE RIMMER came to her profession the long way around. Before settling down to write about the magic of romance, she’d been everything from an actress to a salesclerk to a waitress. Now that she’s finally found work that suits her perfectly, she insists she never had a problem keeping a job—she was merely gaining “life experience” for her future as a novelist. Christine is grateful not only for the joy she finds in writing, but for what waits when the day’s work is through: a man she loves who loves her right back, and the privilege of watching their children grow and change day to day. She lives with her family in Oregon. Visit Christine at www.christinerimmer.com (http://www.christinerimmer.com).
For my mom.
I love you, Mom,
and I’m so grateful
for every moment we had together.
Contents
Cover (#u610e8324-afb4-56e9-88c7-0c8057b4ca25)
Introduction (#ud1f2578e-4e67-522f-926b-98429aa27f15)
Dear Reader (#ufb87a5fe-2ffc-5d7a-9dd4-7a5b647d75c0)
Title Page (#ude18c2bf-11ea-5b39-8771-8f09cb60d4a7)
About the Author (#u4d025ac9-dbeb-5652-bd9f-941ee1ef47c1)
Dedication (#udc8fb264-49f8-5a34-8035-2297b5aa38db)
Prologue (#ulink_9fc7bb25-c10b-588e-8828-94ace308e379)
Chapter One (#ulink_74f9e2d3-9276-5a38-8d61-46a019914c7b)
Chapter Two (#ulink_4380b53c-264d-5115-a562-19d842190b6c)
Chapter Three (#ulink_1b853b57-291d-50b4-964f-349256f63034)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
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)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#ulink_51ddf019-964d-51a2-978f-0a515979c1e4)
January 15
On the ten-year anniversary of the day he lost everything, Nate Crawford got out of bed at 3:15 a.m. He grabbed a quick shower and filled a big thermos with fresh-brewed coffee.
Outside in the yard, his boots crunched on the frozen ground and the predawn air was so cold it seared his lungs when he sucked it in. He had to scrape the rime of ice off his pickup’s windshield, but the stars were bright in the wide Montana sky and the cloudless night cheered him a little. Clear weather meant he should make good time this year. He climbed in behind the wheel and cranked the heater up high.
He left the ranch at a quarter of four. With any luck at all, he would reach his destination before night fell again.
But then, five miles north of Kalispell, he spotted a woman on the far side of the road. She wore a moss-green, quilted coat and skinny jeans tucked into lace-up boots. And she stood by a mud-spattered silver-gray SUV hooked up to a U-Haul trailer. With one hand, she held a red gas can. With the other, she was flagging him down.
Nate grumbled a few discouraging words under his breath. He had a long way to go, and the last thing he needed was to lose time playing Good Samaritan to some woman who couldn’t be bothered to check her fuel gauge.
Not that he was even tempted to drive by and leave her there. A man like Nate had no choice when it came to whether or not to help a stranded woman. For him, doing what needed doing was bred in the bone.
He slowed the pickup. There was no one coming either way, so he swung the wheel, crossed the center line and pulled in behind the U-Haul on the far shoulder.
The woman came running. Her bright-striped wool beanie had three pom-poms, one at the crown and one at the end of each tie. They bounced merrily as she ran. He leaned across the seats and shoved open the door for her. A gust of icy air swirled in.
Framed in the open door, she held up the red gas can. Breathlessly, she asked, “Give a girl a lift to the nearest gas station?” It came out slightly muffled by the thick wool scarf she had wrapped around the bottom half of her face.
Nate was known for his smooth-talking ways, but the cold and his reluctance to stop made him curt. “Get in before all the heat gets out.”
Just like a woman, she chose that moment to hesitate. “You’re not an ax murderer, are you?”
He let out a humorless chuckle. “If I was, would I tell you so?”
She widened her big dark eyes at him. “Now you’ve got me worried.” She said it jokingly.
He had no time for jokes. “Trust your instincts and do it fast. My teeth are starting to chatter.”
She tipped her head to the side, studying him, and then, at last, she shrugged. “All right, cowboy. I’m taking a chance on you.” Grabbing the armrest, she hoisted herself up onto the seat. Once there, she set the gas can on the floor of the cab, shut the door and stuck out her hand. “Callie Kennedy. On my way to a fresh start in the beautiful small town of Rust Creek Falls.”
“Nate Crawford.” He gave her mittened hand a shake. “Shooting Star Ranch. It’s a couple of miles outside of Rust Creek—and didn’t you just drive through Kalispell five miles back?”
Pom-poms danced as she nodded. “I did, yes.”
“I heard they have gas stations in Kalispell. Lots of ’em.”
She gave a low laugh. “I should have stopped for gas, I know.” She started unwinding the heavy scarf from around her face. He watched with more interest than he wanted to feel, perversely hoping he wouldn’t like what he saw. But no. She was as pretty as she was perky. Long wisps of lustrous seal-brown hair escaped the beanie to trail down her flushed cheeks. “I thought I could make it without stopping.” Head bent to the task, she snapped the seat belt closed.
“You were wrong.”
She turned to look at him again and something sparked in those fine eyes. “Do I hear a lecture coming on, Nate?”
“Ma’am,” he said with more of a drawl than was strictly natural to him. “I would not presume.”
She gave him a slow once-over. “Oh, I think you would. You look like a man who presumes on a regular basis.”
He decided she was annoying. “Have I just been insulted?”
She laughed, a full-out laugh that time. It was such a great laugh he forgot how aggravating he found her. “You came to my rescue.” Her eyes were twinkling again. “I would never be so rude as to insult you.”
“Well, all right, then,” he said, feeling suddenly out of balance somehow. He put the pickup in gear, checked for traffic and then eased back onto the road again. For a minute or two, neither of them spoke. Beyond his headlight beams, there was only the dark, twisting ribbon of road. No other headlights cut the night. Above, the sky was endless, swirling with stars, the rugged, black shadows of the mountains poking up into it. When the silence got too thick, he asked, “So, did you hear about the great flood that took out half of Rust Creek Falls last summer?”
“Oh, yeah.” She was nodding. “So scary. So much of Montana was flooded, I heard. It was all over the national news.”
The Rust Creek levee had broken on July Fourth, destroying homes and businesses all over the south half of town. Since then, Rust Creek Falls had seen an influx of men and women eager to pitch in with reconstruction. Some in town claimed that a lot of the women had come with more than helping out in mind, that they were hoping to catch themselves a cowboy. Nate couldn’t help thinking that if Callie Kennedy wanted a man, she’d have no trouble finding one—even if she was more annoying than most.
Was she hungry? He wouldn’t mind a plate of steak and eggs. Maybe he ought to ask her if she wanted to stop for breakfast before they got the gas....
But no. He couldn’t do that. It was the fifteenth of January. His job was to get his butt to North Dakota—and to remember all he’d lost. No good-looking, mouthy little brunette with twinkly eyes could be allowed to distract him from his purpose.
He said, “Let me guess. You’re here to help with the rebuilding effort. I gotta tell you, it’s a bad time of year for it. All the work’s pretty much shut down until the weather warms a little.” He sent her a quick glance. She just happened to be looking his way.
For a moment, their gazes held—and then they both turned to stare out at the dark road again. “Actually, I have a job waiting for me. I’m a nurse practitioner. I’ll be partnering up with Emmet DePaulo. You know Emmet?”
Tall and lean, sixty-plus and bighearted to a fault, Emmet ran the Rust Creek Falls Clinic. “I do. Emmet’s a good man.”
She made a soft sound of agreement and then asked, “And what about you, Nate? Where are you going before dawn on a cold Wednesday morning?”
He didn’t want to say, didn’t want to get into it. “I’m on my way to Bismarck,” he replied, hoping she’d leave it at that.
No such luck. “I went through there yesterday. It’s a long way from here. What’s in Bismarck?”
He answered her question with one of his own. “Where you from?”
There was a silence from her side of the cab. He prepared to rebuff her if she asked about Bismarck again.
But then she only said, “I’m from Chicago.”
He grunted. “Talk about a long way from here.”
“That is no lie. I’ve been on the road since two in the morning Monday. Sixteen hundred endless miles, stopping only to eat and when I just had to get some sleep....”
“Can’t wait to get started on your new life, huh?”
She flashed him another glowing smile. “I went through Rust Creek Falls with my parents on our way to Glacier National Park when I was eight. Fell in love with the place and always wanted to live there. Now, at last, it’s really happening. And yeah. You’re right. I can’t wait.”
It was none of his business, but he went ahead and asked anyway, “You honestly have no doubts about making this move?”
“Not a one.” The woman had a greenhorn’s blind enthusiasm.
“You’ll be surprised, Callie. Montana winters are long and cold.” He slid her another quick glance.
She was smiling wider than ever. “You ever been to Chicago, Nate? Gets pretty cold there, too.”
“It’s not the same,” he insisted.
“Well, I guess I’ll see for myself about that.”
