The Prodigal Cowboy (Mercy Ranch Book 5)

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The Prodigal Cowboy (Mercy Ranch Book 5) Page 1

by Brenda Minton




  Can an unexpected reunion change his wandering ways?

  His last chance to make things right...

  means reuniting the family he once lost.

  Bull fighter Colt West gave up everything for the rodeo—including his sweetheart, Holly Carter. Now he’s come home to Hope, Oklahoma, with unexpected news: he and Holly are the guardians of the daughter they gave up for adoption eleven years ago. It’s a chance to be a family. But can Holly trust that her cowboy is finally here to stay?

  “I’m not here to make your life difficult...”

  Colt leaned back in his chair and studied Holly’s face. “You’re still beautiful.”

  Of course he would go there. That was his way of dealing with life. He charmed. He complimented.

  He didn’t mean it.

  “Don’t. I don’t want compliments and I don’t want you trying to take me down rabbit trails. You’re obviously here on business. So why don’t we cut to the chase.”

  He didn’t smile. “Of course, right to the point. I’m not here about the café.”

  Raising her arm, she made a show of checking the time on her watch. “I do have a business to run. Our business. Remember, I send you a check each month.”

  He shoved himself up from the table and limped to the window. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck.

  “Holly, it’s about Dixie. That’s why I’m here.”

  Dixie.

  The air left the room and her vision darkened. He wasn’t here about the café or about them. He was here to tell her something concerning Dixie.

  Their daughter.

  Brenda Minton lives in the Ozarks with her husband, children, cats, dogs and strays. She is a pastor’s wife, Sunday-school teacher, coffee addict and is sleep deprived. Not in that order. Her dream to be an author for Harlequin started somewhere in the pages of a romance novel about a young American woman stranded in a Spanish castle. Her dreams came true, and twenty-plus books later, she is an author hoping to inspire young girls to dream.

  Books by Brenda Minton

  Love Inspired

  Mercy Ranch

  Reunited with the Rancher

  The Rancher’s Christmas Match

  Her Oklahoma Rancher

  The Rancher’s Holiday Hope

  The Prodigal Cowboy

  Bluebonnet Springs

  Second Chance Rancher

  The Rancher’s Christmas Bride

  The Rancher’s Secret Child

  Martin’s Crossing

  A Rancher for Christmas

  The Rancher Takes a Bride

  The Rancher’s Second Chance

  The Rancher’s First Love

  Her Rancher Bodyguard

  Her Guardian Rancher

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  THE PRODIGAL COWBOY

  Brenda Minton

  Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.

  —1 Peter 5:7

  To the caregivers. In taking care of your loved one, find time for yourself.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Her Hidden Hope by Jill Lynn

  Chapter One

  Colt West rode into town in a Ford truck pulling a two-horse trailer and feeling like he was heading to the hangman’s noose. He guessed that was a little dramatic and he wasn’t usually given to drama. But when a man came home to face his past, that changed everything. Especially if it meant facing mistakes made and the people he’d hurt. The person he’d hurt.

  Hope, Oklahoma. A pretty fanciful name given that the town had been through some hard times. He figured a town struggling to survive needed the moniker more than most. But then, the town didn’t need hope; it had Jack West. Colt’s father, using the term loosely, had become the town benefactor. He was using the family fortune to rebuild businesses, improve the lives of wounded veterans and lure his children home.

  The three of them, Carson, Colt and Daisy, hadn’t been too interested in spending time with the one-time abusive alcoholic. But then Carson had fallen prey to the old man, relocating his life and medical practice to Hope and marrying his childhood sweetheart.

  And now here was Colt, dragging his broken self back to Hope. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, facing his past for this family reunion. For that reason he’d given himself a goal and a timeline. He was here for at least six weeks, maybe eight. He’d make things right, or at least try. He’d let his body finish healing up from the ugly confrontation with a meaner-than-dirt bull. He’d be in New Mexico and back to his job of bull fighter and sometimes rodeo clown by the end of May.

  If Holly Carter didn’t kill him.

  He headed down Lakeside Drive and spotted the new sign on Mattie’s Café. It now read Holly’s Café. He slowed and thought about stepping inside that café and what his reception might be. The thought of facing Holly made him want to keep on driving. And he would have done just that if not for the passenger in the back seat of his Ford King Ranch.

  Hard as this reunion was going it be, it had to happen.

  He turned right at the intersection just past the café and parked next to the building. It was Friday afternoon and the lunch rush hour was long past. No one would mind him parking here, and his horse would be in the shade.

  “What are we doing here?” the unhappy voice from the back seat of his truck asked. “I thought we were going to a ranch.”

  “We have to make a stop first.”

  “Holly is my birth mom’s name.” The girl leaned over the seat. She was eleven and a handful. Times ten.

  He and Holly had made the best decision they could for their daughter. They’d given Dixie up for adoption. Becky Stafford, a friend of his mother, had spent twenty-five years of her life in the Navy. She hadn’t married because her career had taken her around the world. In her late forties, she had found herself retired and yearning for a child. They’d picked her to raise Dixie.

  She’d been a strong woman of faith with a lot of love to offer. They could never have managed to give Dixie a stable home life, not at that time in their lives.

  “Isn’t it?” Dixie pushed, dragging him back to the present.

  “Yeah, Holly is your birth mom’s name,” he answered.

  “Is that her café?”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “You think you’re just going to walk in there with me and surprise her? You realize that’s not a surprise, it’s a heart attack.” And at the words heart attack, her eyes started to tear up. But she didn’t cry. It had been several weeks since Becky passed away and he’d been told she hadn’t cried. Not once that anyone knew of. And now, the little things a person said that shouldn’t have been difficult had become just that.

  He felt the same way.

  He wasn’t much good at kid stuff, but the girl tearing up as she tried to be strong couldn’t be ignored. He patted her arm, awkwardly. “It’s going to be okay.”

&nbs
p; She squinted her eyes and sniffed away the tears. “That’s what you say when someone loses a puppy, not a mom.”

  “You’re right about that,” he agreed. “I’ll learn to do better.”

  Dixie gave him a steady look, unsure and not too full of hope, and he saw both himself and Holly in her. She had their dark hair, his silver-gray eyes and Holly’s sprinkle of freckles across her nose.

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” she said, as if she knew not to trust him. He wasn’t good at keeping promises. Holly knew that better than anyone. Pretty much every woman he’d ever encountered had learned not to put too much stock in his promises.

  “Okay. So I’m going in there to talk to Holly. And you’re going to wait in the truck.”

  “In the truck!”

  “Because she needs to have this broken to her gently.”

  “Right, and you’re nervous she’ll turn us both away.”

  “Just stay here,” he said. It sounded a lot like pleading, but he couldn’t help it.

  Her expression fell. “Is she going to be upset to see me?”

  “Absolutely not,” he assured her. “But like you said, we shouldn’t spring this on her without some kind of warning.”

  “You have five minutes,” she warned.

  “I’m not sure if it’s too soon to ground you but I’m sure thinking about it.”

  She grinned at the warning and he felt as if maybe he’d just done something right as a parent.

  “Fine, just leave the truck on. I’m going to finish watching my movie.” She sat back, tossed him a look that challenged him to say something and put her feet up on the console between the front seats.

  He let it go because he had bigger problems. With a groan, he got out, stretched as much as he possibly could and limped up the sidewalk in the direction of his reckoning. Holly.

  For the first of April it was warmer than he’d expected. Or maybe he had a good case of nerves going, because it had been a while since he and Holly had talked. Not that they didn’t ever talk, but he wasn’t on her list of favorite people. He prepared himself for a less-than-happy reunion.

  What he hadn’t planned for was his half brother, Isaac West, getting out of his own truck in front of the café. Isaac spotted him and faltered. He yanked off his sunglasses, rubbed his eyes and then slowly pushed his truck door shut.

  Colt pretended he hadn’t noticed even though he and Isaac both knew better.

  Isaac met him on the sidewalk, a half grin on his handsome face. The girls had always liked Isaac. The girls had liked all three West brothers, even before they knew Isaac was a West. And the West brothers had liked the girls.

  “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Isaac said with a lazy drawl. “You’re looking a little worse for wear.”

  “A broken back will do that for a man.”

  “Broken back, broken leg and a cracked skull,” Isaac corrected. “You got on the business end of that bull.”

  “But I saved the guy who was under his hooves.” Two months later, he was still recuperating from the incident.

  “Yeah, you did that.” Isaac pulled a toothpick from his pocket and after pulling off the wrapper, stuck it between his teeth. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “I didn’t expect to be here. But there are times in a man’s life when he realizes he has to come home and make things right.”

  Isaac’s gaze slid to Holly’s Café and frowned. “She doesn’t need any added pressure.”

  “I know.” Older by a year, Colt didn’t need any lectures from his younger brother.

  Their dad had been a bounder back in the day. The two of them had gone to the same school and played Little League together and hadn’t known they were brothers.

  But other people had known. Looking back, he remembered the whispers and knowing looks.

  “Then what are you doing, Colt?” Isaac asked.

  “I’m hoping I can help.”

  “You think so, huh?” Isaac peered past him, catching sight of the kid in the car. “Who is that?”

  “That?” he mumbled.

  “You’re going to have to speak up.” Isaac turned, giving Colt his good ear, the one not damaged from a head injury sustained in Afghanistan. “And you know who I mean. Who is that sitting in your truck?”

  “That’s Dixie.”

  Understanding dawned and Isaac’s mouth formed an exaggerated but silent oh. “You’re going to need some Jesus when you walk through the door of that café.”

  “You sound like a grandmother,” Colt responded.

  “Yeah, well, grandmothers have a lot of wisdom.” He flashed his dimpled grin. “They also know when to cut tail and run, and when to stay and watch the fire.”

  Colt adjusted his hat. The movement sent a jolt of pain from his back to his head. He’d been sitting in his truck a little too long. “I don’t have much of a choice.”

  “I know you don’t, but this is going to be tough. Holly has a lot going on in her life.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Colt asked.

  Isaac shrugged, chewing on the toothpick.

  “I reckon you do.” His gaze shot past Colt’s left shoulder. “Trouble is on the move.”

  Colt remembered to move slow and steady as he turned. Dixie was out of the truck and heading his way, a backpack over her shoulder and that bent-up straw cowboy hat she liked to wear resting on her head at a cockeyed angle. She wore ripped and faded jeans, a gray T-shirt, worn-out boots and a glare.

  “I’m not staying in the truck like some dusty old secret you’re trying to hide.” She tossed him an old wood cane. “And you might need this, gimpy.”

  Isaac whistled. “I like her.”

  Colt leaned on the cane, then counted to ten before answering. “Yeah, me, too. Most of the time.”

  “You’re supposed to be positive and say life-affirming things so I grow up to have good self-esteem and make smart choices,” Dixie said with a grin. Holding her hand out to Isaac, she said, “I’m Dixie West. I just added the West for fun, to make him turn red. I’m really Dixie Stafford.”

  “I’m your uncle Isaac, and I think you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. Would you mind if I give you a hug?”

  “Thanks. I doubt he’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” She grinned big, obviously feeling braver for having Isaac as an ally. She stepped forward and Isaac gave her a hug.

  Colt shook his head and gave her a warning look. “You might be right about that, but it doesn’t give you the right to talk that way.”

  Dixie gave him a hard glare but didn’t answer.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Isaac asked.

  “We’re going in,” Dixie told him. She glanced back as she started toward the café. “Come on...Dad.”

  “I’m gonna...” Colt growled.

  “Love her unconditionally,” Isaac supplied.

  “Yeah, that.” Colt took a few steps and glanced back, expecting Dixie to be right behind him.

  She wasn’t. She might have come out of the truck feeling brave, but now she looked half-scared of what she might find once they stepped into the café.

  “You okay?” he asked as she took a step back.

  “I think our original plan is best,” she told him. “You should break the news to her first. We shouldn’t go tromping in there like this and have her faint or something.”

  “I’ll wait out here with her,” Isaac offered. “We can get to know each other.”

  Colt studied the girl facing him with a wild look of fear mixed with bravado. She deserved better than him.

  He had a long track record of hurting people.

  He was trying to be a better man. He’d been seeking the faith he’d known as a kid, hoping God hadn’t given up on him. And he’d been praying hard that his decision—
to honor Becky’s final request—was the right thing to do.

  “Might as well get it over with,” Isaac said.

  “Yeah, might as well.”

  He limped up the sidewalk and stepped through the door of the café. His gaze immediately sought her out, watching as she poured coffee for a customer. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She’d lost weight since the last time he’d seen her and there were dark circles under her eyes. She was beautiful and always would be. She was also the only woman he’d ever really loved.

  Unfortunately, being loved by him hadn’t ever done her any good.

  As the bells over the door chimed, Holly looked up and her gaze connected with his. She continued to pour coffee until it overflowed the mug, running onto the table and pooling on the floor. The men at the table jumped back, grabbing napkins to mop up the brown liquid.Holly stood frozen, emotions flickering across her face, going from surprised to angry to something undefinable that hit him in the gut, because it looked a lot like pain. The overwhelming emotion that should be tagged to every possible interaction they’d ever had. Pain.

  He’d always managed to cause her pain, even now, when he had hoped he was doing the best thing ever for her. Of course, she didn’t know that.

  * * *

  Holly saw him enter but she didn’t believe it, not at first. It couldn’t be Colt, looking rugged but handsome, his hair too long and a few days’ growth of whiskers on his too-attractive face as he leaned heavily on a cane and announced his arrival for all the world like she might have been waiting for his return.

  “Hey, Holly, you’re pouring that coffee all over the table.” Martin Finley yanked his hand back from his cup and grabbed the towel off the tray she’d carried over with the coffeepot. “You look like you just saw the nightmare of Christmas past.”

  “Nothing as good as that,” she told him as she took the towel and mopped up the table and then the floor. “More like I saw the Grinch himself.”

  Her gaze shot back to the man at the door. He’d removed his hat and he pushed a hand through dark hair. For a moment she was eighteen again and a freshman in college, meeting up with a guy she’d known as a child and not realizing the combined power of attraction and loneliness.

 

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