The Cowboy’s Mistake

by Jackson, Mary Sue

  But this…this she could remember.

  “Thank you,” Trey said softly. He was looking down into Isabella’s face.

  “For what?” Leonora was curled against her on the nursing pillow, her weight comforting in Charity’s arms. She was so glad to have her girls home.

  “For giving me the girls,” Trey said, his voice heavy with emotion.

  “Thank you for making us a family,” she said, and he looked up into her eyes.

  “I love you so much. All of you.”

  “We love you just as much,” Charity said.

  They sat in the quiet together, feeding the girls and enjoying the moment, until Isabella let out a pained cry. Trey’s eyes went wide, but then he remembered himself. “Looks like you need a burp,” he said to his tiny daughter, lifting her up to his shoulder.

  “Don’t forget the burp cloth,” Charity reminded him.

  He laughed out loud. “Did you ever think you’d be saying that to me?”

  “I dreamed of saying something that ordinary to you,” Charity admitted. “And now my dream has come true.”

  Isabella let out a burp that was far too large for her baby body.

  “What a dream it is,” said Trey. They laughed together, the happiness filling the room for a long, long time.

  End of The Cowboy’s Mistake

  Do you love handsome cowboys? Please keep reading for a preview from Snowed in with the Rancher and The Rancher’s Second Chance.

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  About Mary Sue Jackson

  Mary Sue Jackson is the romance pen name created for all those cowboy dreamers! This Montana-based cowgirl is a rancher, and knows what hard work means. But despite being up at dawn and working past dusk, she still finds time for what she really loves... romance! With so many hours spent alone, riding across the seemingly never-ending expanse of grasslands, she has plenty of time to dream of love and the romantic tales of ranch life.

  When May Sue's not out on the grasslands dreaming up her next story, she's most often spending time with her own personal hunky rancher, her husband. One of May Sue's favorite activities is to ride the ranch with her husband in the evening and hold his hand as they watch the sun go down over the prairie.

  To learn more about Mary Sue you can check out all her books on social media and her website:

  http://leslienorthbooks.com/leslie-north-presents/mary-sue-jackson/

  About Leslie

  Leslie North is the USA Today Bestselling pen name for a critically-acclaimed author of women's contemporary romance and fiction. The anonymity gives her the perfect opportunity to paint with her full artistic palette, especially in the romance and erotic fantasy genres. (no alignment block)

  To find your next Leslie North book, visit LeslieNorthBooks.com or choose

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  BLURB

  Olivia Wickham could never forget the cowboy she met on a cruise five years ago. The two spent a magical few days together before she was called home for an emergency, without giving him her number. She would have gotten over Tate McConnell—it was just a few nights of paradise, after all—if it wasn’t for two little things: her twin daughters, who were born as a result of those wonderful days. Though she searched for her lost romance in vain, she never forgot his mesmerizing eyes, and the way his smile made her melt inside.

  On a trip to the wilderness just before Christmas, things take a scary turn when one of her daughters is injured on a snowshoeing tour and the little family is unknowingly left behind by the guide. When Tate shows up to save them, she instantly knows who he is—the father of her children, and possibly the love of her life.

  Surprised is a mild term for what Tate feels when he realizes the woman he’s been sent to rescue is Olivia. He’d searched for her over the years, her smile and laugh invading his thoughts on lonely nights. When he learns the two little girls with Olivia are his, surprise makes way for shock. Now, with a major snowstorm coming their way, Tate has to quickly get them to safety inside a cozy little cabin in the woods. Too cozy, since Tate is adjusting to being a father and trying to fight his fierce attraction to Olivia. But since they’re snowbound, there’s nothing to be done but to let his feelings thaw a bit. Or a lot, since they can’t seem to keep their hands off each other every chance they have to be alone. When reality intrudes, though, real panic sets in for Tate. He’s been alone too long to suddenly be a big family man, even if it is Christmas time.

  But when Tate finds himself alone on Christmas Day, he realizes being alone is, well, lonely. He can only hope he’s not too late to create his own Christmas magic.

  Grab your copy of Snowed in with the Rancher

  Available 28 November 2019

  EXCERPT

  Chapter One

  Five years later

  “You’ll just love all the little glass reindeer I put in that box.”

  Tate McConnell scrubbed a hand across his eyes and tried to smile at the screen in front of him. Smiling back at him, only with a lot more authenticity, was his stepmother, Lucy. Not to mention, in the background behind her was his father, Thomas. Tate noted, though, that his dad was tying fishing flies and letting Lucy do all the talking.

  “There’s also a nativity scene,” she continued, her voice warm and enthusiastic. “I found it the last time we were in Billings. There’s a darling little creche, and the baby is made out of…”

  Tate’s jaw ached from the effort it took to pretend he wanted to have this conversation. Next to him on the floor was the box of Christmas decorations Lucy had delivered earlier in the day while he’d been out doing a survey of the unused land his family ranch was going to lose if they didn’t do something with it. Federal leases were funny that way; you didn’t get to keep them if you couldn’t show you needed them.

  “I threw in some of that tinsel you used to like so much as a kid,” his dad remarked with squinting concentration, his eyes on the fuzzy caterpillar-looking thing dangling off a wickedly sharp hook. Tate contemplated the barbed point, thinking about how he liked the solitude of fishing but not the guts and blood.

  “With the storm coming, I thought it would be good for you to have something to do in case you’re snowed in up there for the next few days,” Lucy continued. “And maybe you could practice baking some of your famous cookies? Everyone will want some for Christmas.”

  Tate sighed. He knew what all this was about. Lucy and his dad wanted him to come and take part in a big Christmas celebration at their house with the entire family. While Tate had grown up an only child with only his dad around, Thomas had remarried about a year before the gift of the cruise ticket, and Lucy came with a large extended family. They were good people, but there were so many of them. Cousins and in-laws and siblings and nieces and nephews and he didn’t know what-all. Sometimes he wondered how Lucy kept them all straight.

  “I’ll see,” he prevaricated. “But I have a lot of work to do with this empty parcel on the north side. The feds will take that land back if we don’t get it productive in the next six months, and that’s not going to be easy. I should never have let it go this long, but I was so busy with that fencing project, I lost track.”

  His dad leaned over Lucy’s shoulder. “You know, you could ask Lucy’s nephews—you know, William and those brothers of his—to help out while they’re here. That operation they run in Wyoming is nearly as big as ours. I bet they’d have some good ideas for that tract.”

  Lucy nodded vigorously. “I don’t know if I told you, but William started a new breeding program last year. His momma says he’s been written up in the Wyoming Cattleman’s Journal for it. They’ll be here
before Christmas and weren’t planning to leave until almost New Year’s. That’s plenty of time for them to take a look at that tract and help you brainstorm some ideas.”

  Tate felt something wet on his knuckles and looked down to find his dog Lobster, who’d just woken from a nap.

  He grinned for real now and gave the old lab a good scratch behind the ears. Lobster’s tail thumped and he moaned in delight.

  “That Lobster?” his dad asked from the laptop screen.

  “Yeah, he just woke up,” Tate answered, turning the computer so the camera would show the black beast to his parents. Lobster’s tongue lolled out of his smiling mouth, and Lucy and Tom began cooing at him.

  Tate’s gaze roamed around his living room. He’d spent the last five years redoing the old cabin, and it had come together nicely, an eclectic mix of traditional Montana décor—an antler chandelier over the dining room table, overstuffed leather sofas—and modern practicalities—triple-glazed windows, gas fireplace, heated floors. It wasn’t a big place, offering a couple of bedrooms and a study, one great room with living area, kitchen, and dining, and two and a half bathrooms. He’d added the powder room on the main floor at Lucy’s suggestion. He had to admit it was a lot more convenient than trekking to the master bedroom all the time.

  The cabin was his refuge, the place he’d retreated to after his heart had been broken one too many times. And as much as he loved Lucy and knew she was good for his dad, putting the box of decorations she’d dropped off to use was just asking for somebody to come by to see them. His feelings about people in his space for the holidays could be succinctly described as hell to the no.

  “So what do you say?” Thomas asked. “You going to set up some time to have William and the boys help you with that land?”

  Tate ground his teeth briefly. A quiet man, he didn’t tend to lose his temper. But he could get as frustrated and impatient as the next man, and that’s exactly what this conversation was doing to him. It seemed as if over the last couple years, he was finding it harder and harder to play the part of the dutiful son. He really simply wanted to work the land, fix up his cabin, and hang out with Lobster. Since his dad’s heart attack three years ago, he didn’t even talk business that much with the old man. Thomas had seemed relieved to hand the reins to Tate, and Tate was fine with keeping his business his.

  “I’m not sure, Dad. They’ll be on vacation and all. It might not be the best time to bother them with family concerns.”

  “It’s the perfect time!” Lucy burst out, her ebullient grin lighting up her face. “And since they are family, it’s their concern, too. I know you’d do the same for them if the tables were turned.”

  Tate wasn’t so sure he agreed. Ranching was a solitary endeavor. Granted, he had employees he talked things over with, but ultimately, it was all his responsibility. And if he was going to involve family, it would be his actual family, not step-in-law-cousin-whatevers.

  Just then, an obnoxious siren blasted from his phone where it sat on the other side of the room on the kitchen table.

  “Oh!” Lucy jumped in surprise.

  “Sounds like search and rescue calling,” Thomas said, putting down the finished lure to place a steadying hand on Lucy’s shoulder.

  “Yep. Gotta run,” Tate said, relieved for the easy out.

  “You stay safe out there, son,” Thomas instructed.

  “Thanks, Dad. I’ll talk to you later.”

  He tapped the red X on the screen and began moving across the room immediately. He reached the phone before the siren could blast a second time. Picking it up, he saw the emergency text.

  Three individuals missing near Tolson Cliffs. Adult female late twenties. Two female children under ten. Last seen at the following coordinates…

  “Damn,” Tate muttered. The impending storm was rolling in fast, and a mom was out there alone with young kids. He grabbed the keys to his ATV before picking up the emergency responder kit he kept by the back door. His jacket, gloves, and hat followed, and he was out the door climbing on the four-wheeler in less than a minute.

  Lobster was at his hip the entire time before clambering into the trailer hitched to the back and giving a sharp bark, then jumping out of the trailer and into the passenger seat of the ATV. He’d been going on rescues with Tate since his puppy days, and he knew the routine as well as any human.

  Tate picked up the radio that backed up their cell phones during rescues. “This is McConnell, responding to the call,” he said.

  “Roger that, Tate,” replied Marjory Andrews, the wife of the search and rescue team chief. Marjory served as the dispatcher when calls came in. “You might be the only one able to get there,” she continued. “Make sure to stay in close touch.”

  “Roger that,” Tate replied before putting the handheld back into its slot on the dash of the ATV. “You ready, old man?” he said to Lobster. The lab gave another enthusiastic bark before bathing Tate’s ear with his tongue. The ATV engine cranked over and Tate hit the accelerator, snow churning behind him as he headed toward the old trucking road to the east—and a mother with two kids who needed saving before the biggest storm of the season rolled in and put a halt to everything for a hundred miles.

  Grab your copy of Snowed in with the Rancher

  Available 28 November 2019

  BLURB

  Samantha Jenson likes things ordered. She’s managed to carefully plot out her life, creating lists along the way to keep her on track: Leave small town. No more cowboys—especially him. Get educated. Don’t even think about him. Become a professor. So far, she’s put a check in every box but the last.

  When her family ranch in Texas goes to her after the death of her father and brother, she’s forced to return home to put things in order and to make sure the property doesn’t get into the hands of her shady cousin. Enter Cole Baker. Tough, hard, distant. Sexy. The kind of guy you’d want standing between you and an attacking bear. Or in your bed. He’s definitely not on Sammie’s to-do list. But when the two of them are thrown together to save the ranch, her list begins to look not quite so important.

  No one had ever mistaken Cole for one of the good guys. In and out of trouble his whole life, his one brush with respectability came during the brief time he and Sammie dated in high school. Now, fresh out of the army, he finds himself suddenly navigating the world of single parenthood and is desperate to give his son stability. He needs a job and a place to stay, so when Sammie offers him the role of running the ranch, he swallows his pride and agrees.

  All his life he’s let down everyone he loved, so he’ll try to focus on the job, and definitely not think about how beautiful Sammie is, how goddamn cute all her lists are or how good she is with his son. It’ll only end in heartbreak, just like before… right?

  Grab your copy of The Rancher’s Second Chance here.

  * * *

  EXCERPT

  CHAPTER ONE

  Toddlers were cute, no doubt about it. But Cole Baker was pretty certain they all had a death wish.

  His toddler in particular.

  “Devon!” he bellowed, as he chased his laughing two-year-old across the baking hot asphalt. The boy shrieked in glee over the impromptu game of chase and pumped his little legs even faster. How? Cole wondered for what felt like the millionth time this morning. He's barely up to my kneecap—how can he move so fast? “Devon, stop!”

  He snatched his son up into his arms a heartbeat before the little boy ran headfirst into the plate glass door. Cole let out a long, slow breath and waited for his heart to leave his throat and return to his chest.

  “You have to stay with Daddy,” he murmured in his son's ear. Mostly because it felt like he should say something. Something a good daddy would say.

  Of course, Cole had no idea how to actually be a good daddy. This whole parenting thing was still so new. Right now, the only thing he figured he could manage was keeping the kid alive. Which—considering the greatest joy of Devon's little life seemed to be running away f
rom his father in busy parking lots—was proving to be harder than it looked.

  The diaper bag—yes, he'd learned his lesson all too well and now carried a diaper bag everywhere he went, masculine pride be damned—had slid from his shoulder during his pursuit. He hefted it back up with a practiced motion and heaved a sigh. “You stay with me,” Cole half ordered, half begged his son.

  “Down!” Devon demanded, flinging himself backwards.

  Geez, this kid was strong. “No way.” Cole gritted his teeth and glared at the door handle, wondering how to do this. He needed both hands to keep Devon in check.

  Where was that third arm when he needed it?

  “I've got you!” An older woman entering the bank gave him an indulgent smile and pressed the handicapped button. The door swung open by itself.

  Cole sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward. “You've got to be kidding me.” Then remembered himself. “Thank you, ma'am.” He swung his squirming son into a football hold and tried to square his shoulders. He needed to look respectable as he walked into the bank, after all. Not desperate. Not at the end-of-his-rope.

  No matter how much he felt like he'd been ridden hard and put away wet, he couldn't let it show.

  “Can I help you, sir?” The woman behind the counter of First Regional Bank barely looked old enough to drive. There was no way she would remember him, Cole thought.

  But her bland smile of greeting faltered when she saw his face. Cole felt that familiar twist in his belly and once again wondered just what he was doing back here in dusty, old Hope Springs, Texas. How was he supposed to build a future in a place that refused to let go of his past?