by A. J. Pine
Violet laughed. “God, you’re so beautiful it hurts, you know that?”
He wrapped a finger around one of the curls he’d missed so much. “Nah. Tu es trop belle.”
Tears pooled in her brown eyes even as she smiled.
“But what about Meadow Valley?” she said, realizing where he was supposed to be. “The ranch and the job and does Sam want to kill you for bailing? I bet he wants to kill you for bailing.”
She was talking a mile a minute, and though he couldn’t quite keep up, he understood. He was taking her in, processing the moment, realizing that he was an idiot for thinking she’d react any other way than she’d done. Because this was the woman who loved him, who refused to say good-bye.
He grinned. She was a little thinner, probably from the stress of prepping for her mother’s procedure and getting ready for school, but other than that, this was the happiest she’d ever looked, and he liked to think he had something to do with that.
“Sam wasn’t happy when I told him,” he said. “But then again, he knows you, so he understood.”
“How long are you here?” she asked hesitantly.
He kissed her then, answering her in a language that wasn’t English or French but something all their own.
“It was one hell of a hard road to finally get home,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere for a while.” He paused. “Actually I gotta be back at the ranch in a month. Now that I’m not heading up to Meadow Valley to work on Sam’s ranch, Jack and Luke are counting on me to take the lead on ours. Can’t leave my brothers for too long. But I hope you’ll come back—eventually.”
Her breathing hitched, and she nodded. “I am. I mean, I will. Eventually. But welcome home for now, Walker Everett. Paris has no idea what it’s in for.”
“It sure as hell does not,” he said with a grin. “Maybe I should have given some warning.”
He kissed her again, savoring the moment and realizing there’d be plenty more to come.
“They’ve got ranches here, right? Horses and cattle and all that?”
She laughed, her lips parting into a smile against his.
“They do, but don’t you worry. I’m not done with Oak Bluff yet. I’ve got me a whole new family back there I can’t wait to see again.” She grabbed his hand. “But there are a lot of people here I’d like you to meet.” She laughed, the sound giddy, and it made him feel as light as air. “There’s so much lost time to make up, and I can’t believe you’re here for part of it.”
He believed her that she’d make it back to his little corner of the map someday soon, but Violet had it figured out early on. It didn’t matter where they were as long as the miles didn’t stretch between them. From here on out Walker knew he was home as long as she was there.
Epilogue
The following summer
The next player put on his batting helmet and stepped up to the plate. On the pitcher’s mound, Owen Everett readjusted his cap and toed the dirt.
“What did I miss?” Luke asked, jogging to meet Walker where he stood behind the chain-link fence backstop. “The breakfast rush at the restaurant was insane, but Lily would have had my ass if I’d left without her.”
Walker looked over his brother’s shoulder to the small parking lot beyond the opposing team’s dugout. Lily, Olivia, and Sheriff Cash Hawkins were striding away from Cash’s police-issue Tahoe and straight in their direction.
“Sheriff use the siren?” Walker asked.
Luke laughed. “Hell yes, he did. None of us were going to miss Owen pitch a no-hitter.”
Ava and Jack approached from the concession stand, and Walker swore his oldest brother was carrying a bouquet of corn dogs. Ava already had one of her own in her right hand while she rested the left on her very pregnant belly.
Before anyone could say anything else, Walker heard the distinct sound of a baseball smacking the leather of the catcher’s glove followed by the umpire’s unmistakable, “Strike two!”
The whole group erupted into applause and hollers, much to the dismay of the opposing team. Walker couldn’t blame them. His eleven-year-old nephew was single-handedly wiping the floor with their team.
He raised his can of La Croix—he blamed Violet for his new drink of choice—and whooped even louder. “That’s my nephew!” he yelled.
Jack handed him a corn dog and then backhanded him on the shoulder.
“You’re gonna break his concentration if you don’t dial it back,” his brother warned. “Where is that girl of yours, by the way? She’s supposed to make sure you behave at these things.”
Walker tilted his head back to where Violet’s MINI was parked. “Phone interview for that music teacher position at Owen’s old elementary school.”
Thanks to a couple of brothers who’d seemed to have a bit of a soft spot when it came to matters of the heart, he’d managed to finagle two months in Paris when he’d finally figured out it was Violet he needed more than anything else, but she’d stayed on longer, finishing up her last year of school while Maman recuperated and they both reconnected with family.
“Oak Bluff is home now, though,” she’d told Walker when he’d had to head back. “I know who I am whether it’s in Paris, Santa Barbara, or anywhere else in the world. I think you taught me that before I even left.”
“When?” he’d asked, twirling one of her curls around his index finger.
“When you told me you wanted me to do my hair however I wanted for our pretend date with my parents. Not that I needed your permission.” She’d raised her brows, and he’d smiled. “As much as I’d spent my life searching for something I thought was missing, I never felt lost around you. I just felt like—me.”
Jack shook his head and laughed, bringing Walker back to the present. “How the hell do I have a kid going into middle school?”
Ava bumped her hip against Jack’s. “And a new one arriving pretty much any day now.”
Owen wound up for pitch number three, and it was as if the batter never saw it leave his nephew’s hand.
“Strike three!”
“Holy shit,” Ava whisper-shouted. “Second out, bottom of the ninth. He’s gonna do it!”
The batting coach pulled what would likely be his final player to the side of the dugout for a short one-on-one, and Jack groaned. “Owen’s never struck this kid out before.” He took an angry bite out of his corn dog, and Walker couldn’t help but laugh.
He surveyed the scene before him—Jack and Ava married with a new baby on the way; Luke and Lily engaged and getting hitched right before Christmas; Cash and Olivia finally realizing they don’t have to live where they work and building a new home on a nice piece of property on the outskirts of town.
And then there she was, striding toward him with a smile that lit up his whole damn world—a world that, less than two years ago, he swore would eventually crash down around him. It almost had. Yet somehow he’d made it here. He’d made it back to the place he’d left. And every day he was here—with Violet—Oak Bluff became less and less a reminder of what he’d lost as it transformed to a place where so much had been found.
“Aunt Ines’s plane got in on time, but we’re going to have one more thing to celebrate other than Maman’s one year of remission.” She bounced on her toes. “I got the job,” she said, loud enough that he could hear but not so loud as to break the concentration everyone seemed to be investing in Owen’s next three pitches.
Walker slipped his fingers through hers and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. They’d celebrate as soon as they all got through this inning.
“I’m here! I’m here! I’m here!” Jenna whisper-shouted as she ran up the parking lot curb and joined the fray. “I should have skipped the market today, but I have so many regular customers on Sundays. Did I miss it?”
“Last batter,” Luke said. “At least we hope.”
“Strike one!” the ump yelled as Owen’s opponent tipped the ball over the left foul line.
No one in the Everett clan made a sou
nd.
Owen lifted his cap and swiped his forearm across his sweat-dampened strawberry blond hair. Then it was time for pitch number two.
This time the ball sailed straight over the plate faster than Walker had ever seen Owen throw a ball before.
“Strike two!”
Walker could feel all of them collectively holding their breath. He was a part of this—a part of them, a realization that still shocked the hell out of him when he stopped to think about it.
He pulled Violet’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “If he pulls this off,” he said softly, “I say you stop shacking up with me in that tiny apartment and we get a real place in Oak Bluff. Together.”
Now that Luke was running his riding school and Jack and Ava were expanding the family, he’d come home to officially take over the day-to-day management of the ranch so Jack could focus on the winery. Weekends, though, he still spent at the market, selling his homemade furniture not because he needed extra pocket change to run outta town but because he liked doing it—liked spending time with his aunt and that goddamn psychic chicken of hers.
Her eyes widened. “What if he doesn’t?”
Walker shrugged. “Then I don’t know where to put your knotted pine hope chest.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “You never sold it? You kept it for me?”
He nodded, and then the whole field went silent.
Walker caught Owen giving his dad a subtle look and Jack giving his son an equally subtle nod.
“You son of a bitch,” Walker said. “You taught an eleven-year-old how to throw your fastball.”
Jack grinned. “This kid’s so much better than I ever was. I don’t think I was the one doing the teaching.”
Owen let the ball fly. The batter swung straight across home plate, right where the ball had already zoomed past.
Holy shit.
“Yes!” Jack yelled. “That is my son, ladies and gentlemen!” And then he and Ava were running out onto the field with the rest of the players’ families as Owen’s teammates lifted him above their shoulders.
Walker drew Violet into his arms. “New job? No hitter? Looks like we got ourselves plenty of celebrating to do tonight.”
He scooped her into his arms, and she yelped with laughter.
“Congratulations, Owen!” he called over his shoulder, then piloted the woman he loved to her tiny little car.
“What are you doing?” Violet asked through peals of laughter.
He lowered her to her feet and then kissed her like it was the first day they’d met—like he couldn’t not kiss her.
“I’m going to gas up this machine, throw on those heart-shaped glasses, and find us a new home today. What can I say? I’m a man of my word.”
“Walker,” she tried to protest, but he shook his head.
“Emménagé avec moi,” he said. His French was still elementary at best, but he was learning more each day. For her. “Move in with me, Teach.”
She bit her lip and nodded, her eyes pooling with tears.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too.” She gasped. “And think of all the games we can play driving around town. The license plate game. Punch Buggy. I Spy. Wait! Even better. Carpool karaoke. I’m mentally making a playlist of songs that go with house hunting—like U2! ‘I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For’!”
Walker rolled his eyes but grinned from ear to ear as he opened her door and she collapsed into her seat, still making road trip plans.
He’d move in with this woman he loved more than he could imagine, and he’d make her a million hope chests if that was what made her happy.
But he absolutely, without a doubt, drew the line at karaoke.
Acknowledgments
The last Everett brother is here! Thank you to everyone who’s fallen in love with reading the Everett brothers’ stories as much as I have fallen in love with writing them. It’s because of you that I get to keep writing books, and I could not be more grateful to be able to do the thing that I love most.
Thank you, Andie, for your wonderful guidance. I’m so grateful for your help.
Thank you, Tracy, for teaching me the Dutch pronunciation of Gouda. I finally found a way to use it in a book!
And to my fabulous publishing team—super-agent Emily, magical fairy dust sprinkler (otherwise known as editor) Madeleine, and my writer sisters Lia, Jen, Chanel, Natalie, and Megan—thank you for being in my corner. I don’t know what I’d do without you!
S and C, I love you to infinity.
Delaney Harper thought she'd seen the last of Meadow Valley Ranch after a nasty divorce left her broke. But when she learns that her ex sold their property, she heads back to her past to claim her share of the land...even if it means pushing out the dreamy cowboy who's taken up residence there.
See the next page for a preview of
My One and Only Cowboy
Delaney slammed the key into the ignition and peeled out of the ranch property in a matter of seconds, her heart thudding against her chest, her eyes burning with the threat of tears.
Her lawyer—a.k.a. her cousin Debra—said she couldn’t promise anything without seeing the forged deed. What was she thinking waltzing onto someone else’s property and expecting he’d just hand it over? And what kind of town closed down on a Friday when the holiday wasn’t until Monday?
Meadow Valley.
She’d loved the small town when she and Wade were newlyweds—and when she’d almost gotten the shelter up and running. Now, though, when she needed the town to behave for her, it left her in the dust.
A stop sign loomed ahead, so she pressed her foot to the break. Something popped, and she yelped as the car lurched. Then instinct took over, and she steered the vehicle into the grass before it came to a complete halt, smoke pouring up from the hood.
“No, no, no, no, no!” she growled at her traitor of a vehicle.
She sat there for several long minutes, half hoping that whatever happened to her car would right itself if she just waited it out. When that didn’t seem to be working, she pulled out her phone and Googled the number for the town’s auto repair shop, Meadow Valley Motors. It rang four times before the voicemail picked up.
“Welcome to Meadow Valley Motors. Just like the rest of the town, we’re closing shop until after the holiday. Leave a message, and we’ll return your call by the end of the day on Tuesday.”
She tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and groaned, whacking her head against her seat back.
“Tuesday? I’m stuck like this until Tuesday? Why is everything closed already?” Her voice rose both in volume and in pitch.
She looked down at her phone and saw the seconds still ticking by on the timer.
Great, she hadn’t ended the call, which meant her building tantrum was recorded for posterity. She vigorously pressed her index finger again and again over the red icon on the screen, just in case the first try didn’t take.
She was supposed to breeze into town, get a copy of Wade’s forged deed, and get the ball rolling on reclaiming her land.
A hand rapped against the driver’s-side window, and Delaney yelped for the second time in ten minutes. She looked out to see Sam Callahan standing on the road next to her, his arms crossed and a cowboy hat casting a shadow over his eyes.
He towered over the vehicle like a movie villain ready to take down his rival.
She tried to open the window so she could talk to him from the relative safety of the car but realized that a car that wouldn’t move was also a car whose windows wouldn’t open. It was also growing hotter by the second. For all intents and purposes, Delaney was sitting inside a slowly heating oven, which meant she had no choice but to open the door and get out.
She stood, brushing nonexistent dust off her jeans, then mirrored Sam Callahan’s stance, arms crossed and everything.
“Ms. Harper,” he said with a nod.
“Mr. Callahan,” she said coolly, nodding back. “How’d you know I was
here?”
He glanced back toward the guest ranch, which was easily visible from the road.
“Heard your car give up on you. Hell, everyone did. You spooked the horses. It’s lucky my brother was done giving his lesson or we mighta had an emergency on our hands.”
Delaney threw her hands in the air. “Does this not look like an emergency? Not that it matters because Meadow Valley is not dealing with any emergencies until sometime by the end of the day on Tuesday. Tuesday!”
Sam cleared his throat. “Sheriff and deputies are on call all weekend. So’s the fire department. All our firefighters are trained paramedics. You got an emergency that needs policing or immediate medical attention?”
She squinted into the sun, trying to gauge his shuttered expression. But it looked like he was biting back a grin.
“I suppose you think this is funny? The big bad landowner comes back to claim what’s hers and gets stranded on the side of the road.”
He scratched the back of his neck. “It’s not unfunny.”
She gritted her teeth and fought the urge to scream.
“Look,” he said, “I got a towing hitch and trailer I can put on the back of my truck. I can take you and your car to the inn—I’m assuming you have a reservation—and someone from the shop will come grab it on Tuesday.”
Delaney winced. “Reservation?”
Sam nodded. “Festival in town this weekend. Lots of family reunions. Inn fills up real fast. We got a bit of their overflow, but most festival goers like to stay in town. We’re off the beaten path.”
She glanced back at the car, then at Sam again. “It cools off at night, right? I can just recline the seat and—”
“You’re kidding, right?” he interrupted. “You’re not actually considering sleeping in your car.”
She shrugged. “Look, I wasn’t planning on being in town overnight. So, no, I didn’t make any sort of reservation. Not like I can really afford it anyway, so if you don’t mind, the car will suit me just fine.”