Moving on is easier said than done.
Can two people with broken pasts
come together to form a future?
Self-proclaimed wanderer Carter Kelly doesn’t intend to set down roots when he’s hired as head wrangler at Red Dog Ranch—then he meets Shannon Jarrett. Still healing from a troubled past, Shannon finds a kindred soul in Carter. But will working on a fund-raiser with Shannon make Carter see what’s been missing in his life all along?
Red Dog Ranch
“I’m going to stay in the barn all night to make sure he’s okay.”
When Carter opened the door to the small office the strong smell of bitter coffee wafted out. “Want a cup?”
“Sure.” Shannon followed him into the small room.
“Fair warning.” He pulled two mugs from a deep drawer. “It’s the leaded stuff.”
“Good.” Shannon accepted the cup of coffee from Carter. “Someone has to keep you awake.”
He set his mug down and cocked his head. “You don’t have to do that, you know. I’ll be fine on my own. I can drink the whole pot. I won’t let anything happen to Tater Tot, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
After the pangs of loneliness Shannon had felt around her family earlier, she didn’t want to head back to her bunkhouse. All that waited for her there were more reminders that she was alone and might always be. She wanted Carter’s company right now.
Maybe she needed it.
And maybe—just maybe—he needed her company, too.
Even if he wasn’t willing to admit it.
Avid reader, coffee drinker and chocolate aficionado Jessica Keller has degrees in communications and biblical studies and spends too much time on Instagram and Pinterest. Jessica calls the Midwest home. She lives for fall, farmers’ markets and driving with the windows down. To learn more, visit Jessica at www.jessicakellerbooks.com.
Books by Jessica Keller
Love Inspired
Red Dog Ranch
The Rancher’s Legacy
His Unexpected Return
The Wrangler’s Last Chance
Goose Harbor
The Widower’s Second Chance
The Fireman’s Secret
The Single Dad Next Door
Small-Town Girl
Apple Orchard Bride
The Single Mom’s Second Chance
Lone Star Cowboy League: Boys Ranch
The Ranger’s Texas Proposal
Home for Good
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
THE WRANGLER’S LAST CHANCE
Jessica Keller
But thou, O Lord, art a shield for me;
my glory, and the lifter up of mine head.
—Psalm 3:3
For Krista,
who patiently answered all my horse questions, and for introducing the word shrapnel into my daily vocabulary twenty years ago. But this still doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten that you laughed at me when Serasity bucked me off.
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
Dear Reader
Excerpt from Their Wander Canyon Wish by Allie Pleiter
Chapter One
Wing Crosby wasn’t breathing.
Shannon Jarrett had charged into the water and scooped out her beloved pet goose when she spotted him floating upside down in the small pond in front of the staff bunkhouses at Red Dog Ranch. Now she dropped to her knees on the damp ground and ran her fingers down the goose’s body. His little white-feathered head lolled to the side. His normally bright blue gaze was completely lidded.
“No. Wing. Please, don’t do this.” Her fingers trembled as she tried to feel for a heartbeat near his keel bone, but her fingers were shaking too much. She couldn’t feel anything.
“Please don’t die.” She croaked out the words. “I can’t lose you.”
Not Wing. Not the little goose she had raised.
Please don’t take him.
After everything she had been through the past year, she couldn’t stand another loss. She wasn’t certain she could survive another heartbreak.
Hot tears blinded her for a second.
Was it possible to perform CPR on a goose? She knew their bones were different, hollow. If his heart wasn’t beating, could she give him chest compressions without shattering his sternum? She had no idea. Maybe she would make things far worse.
Yet another situation in her life she would handle entirely wrong.
She had collected a lot of those lately.
A shiver rattled through her body. Being sopping wet at the end of March was a bad idea, even in Texas. But being cold was the least of her worries right now.
Move. Do something. Save him.
Blinking fiercely, she scanned the large ranch where most of her family lived. The ranch house was too far from where she was. Even if her eldest brother, Rhett, was inside, she would never make it to him in time. Not that he would necessarily know what to do anyway; he loved the dogs that hunted waterfowl, not the birds. Her brother Wade and his new wife, Cassidy, lived with their young daughter even farther across the ranch in the house they had recently finished building. Despite the fact that Wade only ever referred to Wing as Thanksgiving Dinner, she knew her twin brother would never hesitate to help her.
But there was no time.
In her haste, she had left her phone in her bunkhouse, or else she would have run a quick search on the internet for ideas. She had nothing. Nothing but the small body of her favorite little buddy dripping in her hands. He was dependent on her for his life and she was failing him.
A door slammed nearby and Shannon whirled to see who it was. Two doors down from the bunkhouse she called home, a tall man carried a bag into a staff house that had been empty for most of the last year. He had to be the head wrangler Rhett had recently hired. Shannon hadn’t met him yet and didn’t know anything about him, but at the moment he was her only hope.
Cradling Wing Crosby, Shannon rose and ran in the man’s direction. “Help! Please. Help me.”
He dropped the bag and jogged toward her.
“My goose. I need help.” Shannon held out Wing Crosby. “I don’t think he’s breathing.” Her voice broke. “I don’t know what to do.”
The man’s electric-blue eyes latched onto hers. He nodded once and ripped off the coat he was wearing. He wrapped the fabric around Wing Crosby’s body before gingerly lifting the goose from her arms and then he dropped to a knee, Wing Crosby in his lap. Opening up the jacket, he pressed his ear to Wing’s chest.
“Not breathing, but there’s a heartbeat.” He squinted. “It’s faint, but it’s there.” With a great amount of gentleness, the man opened Wing Crosby’s beak and swept the inside of the goose’s mouth with one of his fingers. “Did you see him choking on anything, or were you feeding him something when this happened?” The man kept his attention on Wing Crosby while he asked the question. His fingers combed over the bird’s white feathers for injuries.
“I don’t know what happened.” Her voice took on a desperate tone. “I found him in the wat
er. I didn’t see anything.”
He wrapped the jacket back around Wing and tucked the goose into the crook of his arm so the bird was snug against his body like a football. With his head tipped down, the man’s dark hair fell across his forehead. The stranger rolled his shoulders as he took a deep breath.
Shannon dropped down in front of him so their knees touched. She just wanted to be by Wing. “You know what you’re doing?”
The man glanced her way, the intensity of his blue eyes startling her again. He cocked an eyebrow. “You want me to save him, right?”
“Of course.”
He nodded and focused his attention back on the goose. He wrapped a finger over the holes in Wing Crosby’s bill, then put his mouth over the goose’s bill and blew into the bird’s mouth five times.
The man repeated the process three times before letting out a frustrated growl. “We’ve lost his heartbeat.”
“Wait.” Shannon laid a hand on the man’s arm. “He’s dead? Are you saying he’s dead?” Her voice pitched up.
A muscle in the man’s firm jaw ticked. “Not on my watch.” He tugged open the jacket. Using three fingers, he pressed down on Wing’s chest rapidly ten times. He followed that with five breaths and kept switching back and forth.
“I’ve had him since he hatched.” Tears slipped down Shannon’s cheek as she watched Wing being worked on. “He’s not even a year old yet, but he’s really important to me,” she said. “I can’t lose him.”
She had lost too much.
Too soon.
They had just passed the one-year anniversary of her father’s sudden death, and hitting that first milestone had left her feeling raw all over again. He had been hit by a car; the driver had been focused on their phone instead of the man in the crosswalk. But that wasn’t the only thing weighing her down. Her mother’s Alzheimer’s kept advancing, so every day it felt as if she was losing her all over again. Rhett had returned to the ranch exactly a year ago to claim his inheritance, but he had married right away and taken over the ranch house, which meant Shannon had been moved to a staff bunkhouse where she was living alone for the first time in her life. Her twin brother, Wade, who had been assumed dead for five years, had returned to the ranch last summer. Which was positive, but it had still been traumatic coming to terms with his betrayal, the fact he was still alive and forgiving him for letting them believe otherwise, only to find out he had cancer and they could lose him all over again. While Wade was considered cancer-free now, there was always a chance it could return. Being his sole support during that time had been stressful.
And then there had been Cord.
Who had gifted her the negative track of thoughts that played on repeat in her mind.
The boyfriend who had left bruises on her arms.
Scars on her heart.
At least the experience with Cord had broken Shannon of her childish daydreams about relationships and love. There wasn’t a perfect someone out there waiting for her. Maybe for others—people like her brothers and their wives—but not for her. She needed to pick herself up, be strong on her own and figure out what a life without anyone else in it looked like.
Because despite how much she loved being around people, loved connecting and had always wanted a family, alone might be what God had for her.
And she was determined to be okay with that.
No matter how much it hurt.
While breaking free of Cord had ultimately been a good thing, it had sent her world reeling. With her brothers busy in their new marriages and her mother no longer capable of being her confidante, Shannon had been entirely left out and alone. The only thing that had gotten her through the worst of it had been raising the little abandoned goose, because he had been completely dependent on her for survival. He had given her something to focus on.
He had needed her when no one else had. He had nestled up to her and gazed at her adoringly when her family had treated her as if she was weak, as if they expected her to fall apart. Whenever their eyes met hers, the pity they held was too clear to stomach.
For once she just wanted them to see her as strong. She wanted a reason for them to be proud of her. She would give anything to be seen as more in their eyes than the little sister they all had to watch out for, to constantly protect.
All of a sudden, Wing made a horrible half honk, half gasping sound and his whole body trembled. In one swift motion the man set the goose down, grabbed Shannon’s arm and hauled her to her feet a few steps away.
“If you’re right in their face sometimes they’ll bite when they come to,” he said. His gaze fell to where he gripped her arm and he immediately let go of her. “Even people they know. Their body goes into a mode. Thinking something is latched onto them—that’s usually the behavior of a predator, not someone trying to save them.” He shoved a hand into his almost black hair and let out a long, loud breath. “And geese have shockingly painful bites.” His laugh was soft and self-conscious.
Wing Crosby’s eye blinked open and drooped shut, then flew open again. The goose tried to lift his head but set it back down again. He opened his bill and wheezed a few times.
He was alive.
Shannon squealed and threw her arms around the man. “You saved him. I don’t know how to thank you. I can’t believe you were able to save him.” She hugged him tightly. He was so much taller than her. His chest was solid, his shoulders wide, and he smelled of something delightfully spicy. She was breathing deeply when she realized he wasn’t hugging back.
In fact, upon contact, the man’s body had gone completely rigid.
Shannon was so used to the freedom of hugging her brothers, she hadn’t stopped to think before tossing herself at the poor guy. Then again, she never nuzzled for extra whiffs of her brothers, either.
She extricated her arms from around his torso. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” His lips tilted into something that looked like it wanted to be a smile when it grew up. He scooped his coat off the ground and offered it to her. “You’ve been shuddering the whole time. It’s a little wet from him, but it’ll be better than nothing. I’m guessing I won’t be able to convince you to leave him to go change.”
Wing gave a loud snuffle as he finally sat up.
Shannon slipped on the man’s coat right before she picked up Wing.
The man leaned closer to the goose. “I’d call your vet and get him looked at. They often need to be intubated after something like this.” He tentatively petted Wing’s head. “You’ve got a beautiful bird there. Looks like a pilgrim gander.”
So not only did the man know his goose breeds, but the correct term for a male goose, as well. Not to mention knowing how to do CPR on one.
She opened her mouth to say something but wasn’t quite sure where to start.
“He needs to be warmed up while you wait for the doctor,” the man continued. “If you have a heating pad they work great. Just put a towel over it and put it in a carrier so he’s contained and on top of the warmth source. You’ll want to minimize any stress for him.”
“I will.” Shannon offered him a smile. “I’m Shannon, by the way.” And between charging into the pond and crying, she probably looked a wreck, but thankfully, the man was treating her as if this had all been a normal, everyday interaction.
“Carter Kelly. New head wrangler.” He thumbed toward the large barn situated at the front of the property.
“And apparently goose saver,” Shannon said. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
He shook his head. “Don’t mention it. It was nothing. Seriously.”
Shannon hadn’t been paying much attention to the man’s looks while she was worried about Wing Crosby, but now that she was looking at Carter he was hard to glance away from. Dark, almost black hair and blue eyes that matched Wing Crosby’s. In his boots, jeans and white T-shirt, Carter Kelly could have been the imag
e that popped up on an internet search titled World’s Handsomest Cowboy. A few jagged scars along his neck and jawline only added to his appeal.
“You should call the vet,” Carter repeated.
His voice snapped her back to normal behavior. First she had hugged the guy and now she was very obviously gawking at him. Great first impression.
Shannon nodded and stepped backward. Her arms tightened around Wing Crosby as he tucked his head onto her shoulder. “I’m going to. Right now.” She took another step back. “What are you going to do?”
“Me?” Carter chuckled. “Probably go gargle antibacterial hand soap a few times. Birds are germ magnets.” He shrugged. “Then finish unpacking.” He pointed at her as he backed away. “But let me know what the doc says, okay?”
“I will,” she said and then rushed Wing Crosby into her bunkhouse to warm him up, change into something dry and wait for Dr. Spira to arrive. While she waited, she tried to think of an appropriate way to thank Carter Kelly. The man had saved her pet. She had to do something to thank him.
Seeing his blue eyes and chiseled jaw again had nothing to do with it.
It didn’t.
Because Shannon Jarrett was done with men.
For now, certainly, but maybe for good, as well.
“Well, except for you, of course.” Shannon patted Wing’s head and he honked quietly from his perch on the blanket-covered heating pad. His eyes closed again.
She no longer trusted her heart when it came to these things, so the fact that she found Carter attractive meant nothing. Her heart only ever got her into trouble. So it had been demoted. Every choice from here on would be logical. Thought through. No emotions. No heartache.
But it was logical to thank someone.
* * *
Living a life without roots meant Carter Kelly had never owned much, but the generous bunkhouse he had been given as one of the perks of his new job at Red Dog Ranch dwarfed his meager possessions even more than usual. It was almost embarrassing, but it would be the biggest place he had lived in since his stepdad had tossed him out on his ear all those years ago. At least the place had come furnished. If it hadn’t, his new home would have looked really pathetic with nothing in it.
The Wrangler's Last Chance (Red Dog Ranch Book 3) Page 1