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Boone's Bounty
Vicki Lewis Thompson
The BlacksmithBoone Connor liked being a loner, plain and simple. In his estimation, women just got a guy into trouble. And he had enough of that already…His WomanShelby McFarland and her young nephew were on the run. When a freak snowstorm left them stranded, she though the game was over–until a strong sexy cowboy came to their rescue…His Baby?Boone couldn't resist helping a lady in distress, andy more than he could help falling for her–hard and fast! Shelby's lips tempted him, teased him, and her gorgeous body pushed him beyond reason. But as good as they were together, Boone couldn't make Shelby any promises. Because he'd just discovered he had a baby girl…
The message in Boone’s eyes was blatantly clear
Shelby began to quiver in anticipation. Embarrassed by how shaky she felt, she put both hands behind her back and leaned against the wall, pretending to be casual but desperately needing the support.
“Shelby.” Boone’s voice was strained. “Don’t lean like that.” His gaze lingered on her breasts, and his breathing grew ragged.
She realized that her attempt to be casual had resulted in her breasts thrusting out in what looked like an invitation. She hadn’t done it deliberately, but as she noticed his agitation—and the evidence of his arousal—her nervousness began to disappear.
And she discovered something very wicked about herself. Now that he’d said he wasn’t in love with someone else, she was ready to play on his weakness for her.
“Tell me to go away, Shelby.” His attention became fixed on her mouth. “For God’s sake, don’t look so ready to be kissed. You’re driving me crazy, you know that.”
“I know.” Meeting the challenge in his eyes, she moistened her lips and parted them, teasing him with a sultry look. “Drive me crazy, too, Boone. Just one last time….”
Dear Reader,
Willie Nelson tells us that mamas shouldn’t let their babies grow up to be cowboys. I suppose he’s entitled to his opinion. Personally, I wouldn’t look forward to a world without cowboys, which is where Willie’s advice might take us. I think I could round up a number of women who would agree with me.
Take Boone Connor. (And I’m sure plenty of us would love to.) Six feet five inches of lean, muscular cowboy. Boone’s a perfect example of why Willie should rethink his position. I’m extremely grateful Boone’s mama let him grow up to be a cowboy. Dressing that yummy man in a business suit would be a crying shame.
As my miniseries THREE COWBOYS & A BABY continues, Boone is daddy prospect number three. Like Sebastian (in #780 The Colorado Kid) and Travis (in #784 Two in the Saddle), Boone’s positive he’s baby Elizabeth’s father. But is he? Watch for the conclusion of the series when That’s My Baby!, a Harlequin single-title release, comes out in September. One thing you can count on: Elizabeth’s daddy will turn out to be…a cowboy!
Warmly,
Vicki Lewis Thompson
Boone’s Bounty
Vicki Lewis Thompson
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To the Goddesses of the Temptation e-mail loop, who coached me on the care and feeding of three-year-olds. You’re the best!
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
1
SNOW.
Boone Connor sighed and switched on the wipers. Didn’t it just figure he’d hit a late-season snowstorm on his way over Raton Pass. Damn. It was nearly June. The snow should be gone by now. But his luck had been running that way lately.
And this didn’t promise to be one of those wimpy storms that sifted down from the clouds like cake flour and dusted the pine trees so they looked like a Christmas card. This wasn’t the kind of snow that blew off the road like white sand. Nope. This was a serious, drifts-to-your-crotch, black-ice-on-the-curves kind of storm. His truck tires were already losing traction.
The roadblock didn’t surprise him, but it sure frustrated the hell out of him. His old king-cab could make it through anything, and he sure was anxious about getting to the Rocking D to see that baby. His baby, most likely. The idea that he probably had a kid still made him dizzy. He couldn’t quite believe the baby was real, and setting eyes on her would help anchor his thoughts.
But Smoky was about to throw a crimp in his plans, obviously.
Boone rolled down his window and snow blew in, nipping his cheeks with cold. He ignored the discomfort and tipped up the brim of his Stetson so he could look the cop in the eye while he tried to make a case for getting past those orange and white barriers.
The patrolman, bundled to the teeth, looked up at Boone. “I’m afraid you’ll have to turn back, sir.” His breath fogged the air. “Road conditions are bad up ahead and getting worse by the minute.”
“My truck’s gots four-wheel drive, Officer,” Boone said, although he didn’t expect that information to make any difference. “And I’ve driven this road hundreds of times. I need to get to Colorado right away.”
“I understand that, sir.” The patrolman didn’t sound particularly understanding. He sounded as if he was sick to death of standing in the cold reciting this speech to unhappy folks. “But we can’t let you take a chance on that road until the storm’s over and the snowplow clears it. With luck we’ll be able to let people through tomorrow morning.”
“Hell.”
“There’s a little motel and café about three miles back,” the patrolman added, stomping his booted feet.
Boone knew the place. He’d stopped there for coffee a few times, but hadn’t bothered this trip because he’d been trying to outrun the snow. He’d never stayed at the motel. He mostly liked driving straight through until he got to where he was going. The motel wasn’t very big, as he recalled. Ten or twelve units, maybe.
He glanced up at the patrolman. “How many people have you sent there?”
“A few. But I expect most of them drove on back to Santa Fe. The motel’s clean, but not exactly the Plaza.” The patrolman glanced past Boone’s truck. “I’ll have to ask you to move your vehicle, sir. There’s someone behind you.”
Boone glanced in his rearview mirror and saw the small white sedan, its fog lights picking out the flakes and causing them to sparkle while the rest of the car was nearly invisible in the swirling snow. Now that vehicle had no business trying to maneuver down the road ahead, but Boone still thought he could make it with no sweat. Still, he knew a losing battle when he saw one. He put the truck in gear and swung it around to the other lane.
As he paused to roll up his window, he glanced over at the sedan. Its window slid down, and he caught a quick glimpse of the driver—young, blond and female. With her hair caught up in a funky ponytail on top of her head, she looked even younger than she probably was. His irritation with Smoky eased a little as he considered how vulnerable that woman would have been if no one had set up a roadblock to protect her from doing something stupid.
He heard her arguing hotly with the officer, and he shook his head in amazement. Yep, without that roadblock, she’d have done something real stupid. She’d have ended up a statistic for sure, off in a snowbank, frozen solid.
He rolled up his window and headed back down toward the motel, still marveling at how naive that woman was, thinking she’d drive that little bitty compact over a snow-choked mountain pass. Better to have the roadblock, even if it meant he’d get delayed, than to leave greenhorns like that free to take chances with their lives.
WHEN SHELBY MCFARLAND first saw the roadblock, she panicked, sure that Mason Fowler had reported her to the police. But no, the barricades were on account of the weather. The patrolman wanted her to turn back.
But turning back meant possibly heading toward Mason, who by now could be in hot pursuit. She abandoned her usual caution.
“You don’t understand,” she said to the officer standing beside the car. “I must get through. The road can’t be that bad!”
“I’m afraid it is, ma’am. You wouldn’t stand a chance with this light vehicle.” He leaned down and looked into the car. “And I’m sure you wouldn’t want to take any risks with that little guy. You a Spurs fan, son?”
“Yep,” Josh replied. “Bob, he is, too.”
Shelby glanced over at Josh sitting in his car seat, proudly wearing his San Antonio Spurs jersey. She should have dressed him in something less identifiable, but he loved that jersey. And of course, she couldn’t risk ending up marooned in a snowbank, not with Josh in the car. What had she been thinking?
Josh stared in fascination at the patrolman. “Do you gots a gun?” he asked.
“Yes, son, I do,” the officer said solemnly.
“My daddy gots a gun,” Josh said.
Shelby felt sick to her stomach. She didn’t doubt Mason had a gun, but the thought of Josh somehow coming into contact with it scared the daylights out of her. “How do you know that, sweetheart?”
“He showed me it.”
Shelby closed her eyes briefly, as if that would block out the ugly image. If she needed any more reasons to keep this child away from Mason, there was a huge one. A gun and a three-year-old. She shuddered.
“I hope your daddy keeps that gun locked up good and tight,” the patrolman said. “Guns are not toys.”
“The policeman is absolutely right, Josh,” Shelby said. “You must never touch a gun.” And if she had anything to do with it, he’d never get the chance again. She glanced back at the officer. “I want to thank you for preventing me from doing something foolish. I wasn’t thinking clearly a moment ago. Trying to go over that pass tonight would be suicide.”
“Bob and me, we never seed any snow before,” Josh offered.
The patrolman peered into the car. “You got a little dog in there named Bob?”
“No,” Shelby said. “Bob is Josh’s special friend, and he’s very talented. He can make himself invisible.”
“Ahhh.” The patrolman nodded solemnly. Then he glanced at Shelby. “There’s a motel and café back down the road about three miles. Maybe you could wait it out there.”
Shelby didn’t remember the place, but it sounded better than driving to Santa Fe. “How long will it be before the road’s open, do you think?”
“Hard to say, ma’am. If I was you, I’d try to get a room for the night. They’re not fancy, but they’re clean.”
Shelby took a shaky breath. She didn’t know for sure that Mason was following her, but she had a bad feeling he was. All he would have had to do was ask her apartment manager where she’d gone. The manager had been on his way into the building just as she and Josh were leaving, and Josh had blurted out that they were going to Yellowstone to ride horsies. She hadn’t remembered to tell Josh it was a secret.
Still, she had a head start on Mason, so the motel was probably a safe bet for tonight. Besides, it wasn’t as if she had a lot of choice. “Okay,” she said. “We’ll try that. And thanks again.”
“No problem. Just doing my job, ma’am. ’Bye, son.”
“’Bye, Mister Policeman.”
Shelby gave the officer a smile before rolling up the window. Then she waited for him to step aside before she guided the car around in a half circle. Fortunately no one else seemed to be coming up the road.
Three days ago—it seemed like three years—Mason had called to say he was coming over the next morning to take Josh to the zoo. Something about the arrogant way he’d announced his intentions instead of asking Shelby if that was okay put her on alert. He’d been dropping hints for weeks that if the courts didn’t grant him custody, he’d take Josh anyway.
The longer she thought about his brusque tone during the call, the more she became convinced that Mason didn’t intend to bring Josh back. So she’d rented a car, hoping that would throw Mason off a little, packed some clothes for her and Josh, and left town.
“Where’re we goin’, Shebby?” Josh asked. “Back home?”
“No, not home, Josh. But we can’t keep going up the mountain road because there’s too much snow. So we’ll stay overnight in a motel and try again tomorrow morning, okay?”
“Okay, but when are we gonna get to Yellowstone? You said, Shebby. Bob wants to see geezers.”
“Geysers, Josh.”
“Yeah, those. And we’re gonna ride horsies there, right?”
“That’s the plan.” She should change the plan, but Josh was so excited she didn’t have the heart, at least not yet.
“Bob, he knows how to ride horsies real good. He’s gonna teach me.”
“Good thing Bob knows so much, huh?” Shelby said. Right about now she wished Josh’s imaginary friend really existed, and that he was about six-five, weighed two-fifty and could bench-press his own weight.
“Bob, he knows this much.” Josh spread his arms wide. “A whole bunch, is what Bob knows.” He glanced at Shelby, as if he expected her to contradict him. “Right, Shebby?”
Shelby smiled. No matter how scary life got, she took heart from this little bundle of sunshine sitting in his car seat next to her. He was unsinkable. And so damned normal, with his love of basketball and his imaginary friend. A child psychologist might say the imaginary friend had made an appearance at this particular time because of what Josh had been through recently. That could be true, and if so, she was impressed with the way the little boy took care of his own needs.
She glanced over at Josh. “Right. Bob is awesome.”
Josh nodded. “Awesome. When are we gonna see geezers?”
“Well, first we have to go all the way through Colorado, and then most of the way through Wyoming. But before we do that, we have to get over this mountain, and we can’t do that until tomorrow morning.”
“’Member that song about a mountain? The one we singed in school?”
“Sure. Want to sing it?”
“Yep.” Josh launched into a close approximation of “She’ll Be Comin’ ’Round the Mountain.”
Shelby joined in, helping him through the parts he’d forgotten. How she loved this little boy. Long ago, in spite of herself, she’d begun to think of him as her own child. He even looked like her—same blond hair, same blue eyes. Patricia hadn’t ever seemed to have time for him, especially after she’d divorced Mason.
And during the breakup of Patricia’s marriage, Shelby’s parents had been so busy worrying about Patricia, their favorite child, that they hadn’t seemed to have any concern left for Josh. And now all three of them were gone—her sister and both her parents.
