The Littlest Cowgirls--A Clean Romance

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The Littlest Cowgirls--A Clean Romance Page 24

by Melinda Curtis


  “For Jeb and Letty. And Hope and Hazel. And for us.”

  What an ending. What a beginning.

  Wyatt kissed her again.

  Ashley couldn’t think because of all the crowd noise, but she could feel. And what she felt was the confidence of the right man at her side, one who was strong enough to stand alone or be in her shadow. One who believed in her, believed in himself, and believed that together they—and theirs—could reach for the stars.

  EPILOGUE

  One week later...

  IT WAS A SMALL ceremony on a gentle slope next to a freshly painted white church in Second Chance.

  There were two brides, two grooms and two very fragile babies, who were extremely lucky to have two very special dads.

  There were no tents for privacy. There were no black eyes or bridesmaids, other than one twelve-year-old junior bridesmaid whose job it was to hold the bridal bouquets during the ring portion of the ceremony.

  Two honeymoon suites had been prepared. One in an A-frame in the woods. One at the Lodgepole Inn, where plans were being made to expand the manager’s apartment up into the second floor, complete with soundproofing.

  There were few Monroes in attendance. Most had left town to return to their lives. Attendees were local friends and relatives. They were celebrating many things, not just this double wedding. Progress had been made on declaring some old buildings historical landmarks. There’d been a boost to the economy from the Old West Festival, an increase in tourism that continued a week later.

  And then the bear decided to make an appearance, giving them all something else to celebrate.

  “There she goes!” Roy announced, pointing across the river to the meadow where mama bear and her cubs were heading south.

  A cheer went up, followed by the sound of laughter.

  And two twin babies, who were new to the world, wondered to each other if every day outside the hospital was going to be so full of joy and laughter.

  News flash: It was.

  * * *

  There are more great romances in The Mountain Monroes miniseries available from Melinda Curtis and Harlequin Heartwarming... Visit www.Harlequin.com today!

  Kissed by the Country Doc

  Snowed in with the Single Dad

  Rescued by the Perfect Cowboy

  Lassoed by the Would-Be Rancher

  Enchanted by the Rodeo Queen

  Charmed by the Cook’s Kids

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A Valentine’s Proposal by Kim Findlay.

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  A Valentine’s Proposal

  by Kim Findlay

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE IDEAS WERE pinging nonstop. Fizzing with excitement, Mariah pulled into an empty parking lot, grabbing the tablet beside her and opening up the map app. With the limited parking here in Carter’s Crossing, they’d need to set something up with trains, or planes, to get larger parties here, or people without cars from cities like New York or Boston. Where was the closest train station? Airport? How would they convey people from there? Limo? Convertible in the summer? No, that would only be for the big budget events. Maybe a shuttle bus? They’d have to arrange for a van for luggage...

  Absorbed in her thoughts, her surroundings faded until a voice near the open car window broke through her concentration.

  It had an impatient edge, as if this wasn’t the first attempt to reach her.

  “Can I help you?”

  Mariah’s head snapped up, and she shrieked.

  The big head, the teeth, the tongue...it took her a moment to place the unexpected image.

  A Great Dane, drooling into her car. She backed farther into her seat before the big nose snuffled her ear.

  “He’s friendly.” It was the same voice, and Mariah finally caught sight of the man attached to the dog.

  He was at the other end of a leash. Tall, dark hair, wearing blue scrubs for some reason. He was also good-looking, but the smirk on his face canceled out most of the benefit of a strong chin and high cheekbones. The smirk annoyed her. She wasn’t afraid of dogs; she’d just been startled.

  “I’m sure he is. I’d still rather not wear his saliva.”

  Okay, maybe her voice was a little...curt, but this was an expensive suit and she already had some drool on her sleeve. Her pulse was racing from the shock.

  The dog’s head retreated as the man pulled on the leash.

  “Back off, Tiny.” He pushed the dog behind him and leaned toward her. “We didn’t mean to startle you. Just wanted to help you find your way.”

  Mariah’s fists clenched on the map. This man didn’t know her. He didn’t know her hot buttons, or the number of times she’d been offered unsolicited directions. He probably didn’t even realize the assumptions behind that offer. She had literally navigated around the globe, and she could certainly make her way around a town so small it had only one stoplight.

  She’d been questioned on that ability a few times too many.

  “I’m not lost.” She set down the tablet. She wasn’t lost. Planning was her forte. She knew exactly where she was and where she was going, and all she’d wanted was a few moments to work out the brainstorm she’d been hit with. This could be her best idea yet, and she wanted the chance to start working it out.

  “Just taking the scenic route?” he asked, still smirking.

  Oh, to be born with the confidence of those with a Y chromosome. He undoubtedly expected her to admit the map was just too much for her little ole brain and would gladly tell her where to go in that same smug tone...or maybe she was projecting, just a bit. Probably better not to leap to conclusions.

  Still, it wouldn’t hurt for him to learn to take a hint. If she needed help, she was perfectly capable of asking for it.

  So she smiled through gritted teeth and repeated, “I’m not lost, but I wouldn’t mind if you were.”

  She held the smile as the penny dropped and he lost his smirk.

  He backed off, hands in the air, Drooly backing up with him. To his credit, he didn’t call her a name, defend his niceness or tell her she was cute when she was sassy.

  Maybe she’d gone too far.

  “I’m gone. Good luck finding where you’re going.”

  She could do without the sarcasm, too. Yeah, she didn’t need to feel sorry for him, or his healthy ego.

  He turned to the building at the back of the small parking lot where she’d pulled in. The falling penny this time was for her. He was in scrubs, with a dog, and the sign on the building read Carter’s Crossing Animal Hospital.

  Okay, first meeting with a local didn’t go well. For a moment she considered apologizing.

  She checked the time. No, she needed to get going. She didn’t have time for him to explain how he hadn’t meant anything by it.

  Shoving the incident, and the tablet, behind her, she put the car in gear and turned left.

  This was an incredible opportunity. She was going to blow the socks off everyone, and then she’d have achieved her dream, all on her own. She was at the helm, and she was kicking butt and taking names.

  Fortunately, none of her plans required the assistance of the local vet.

  * * *

  NELSON CARTER WATCHED the car pull out of his parking lot. His empty parking lot.

  It was a Sunday afternoon, and the clinic wasn’t open. There were no other cars in the lot; just his clinic van. He was here because he’d been called in to help Tiny, the Great Dane.

  Great Danes were known to suffer from gastric torsion, as Tiny’s owner had read on the internet. Every time Tiny ate something he shouldn’t, w
hich he did frequently, Nelson got a call in case Tiny was about to bloat and torque his digestive tract. To date, Tiny’s digestive tract was cast iron, but Nelson always responded.

  Tiny’s owner, Mavis Grisham, was a good friend of his grandmother’s, and devoted to her pet, who probably outweighed her by a good thirty pounds. Tiny was a happy, good-natured goof. After checking the dog out thoroughly, he’d taken Tiny for a walk, making sure the guy would survive his first taste of habanero sauce. Nelson was more worried about what would happen when that worked its way through Tiny than he was with what was going to happen while it was still inside the big dog, but he was due for dinner at his grandmother’s. Mavis would have to handle that.

  He also wondered why Mavis was using habanero sauce but was probably better off not knowing.

  Nelson had been about to return Tiny to Mavis when he’d noticed the out-of-state car in the clinic parking lot.

  Carter’s Crossing was a small town. It wasn’t on the way to anywhere else of any consequence, so few people other than locals were likely to drive through. Nelson knew all the locals. He’d grown up in Carter’s Crossing. Now that he was back, his practice covered more than just the town. Almost everyone here had an animal, either for business or pleasure. He’d quickly caught up on any new arrivals since he’d left.

  In Carter’s Crossing there weren’t any strangers.

  He’d guessed the driver of the out-of-state car was lost, and the map open on her tablet confirmed that she’d gotten confused on the back roads.

  His first impression had been good. She was pretty, with dark, shiny hair, a straight nose; her brow crinkled as she stared at the map like it was her best friend. He’d offered to help, thinking it would be a pleasant interlude to wrap up his day.

  She hadn’t been nice. Sure, Tiny’s face could be startling up close, so the yelp she’d made had been perfectly understandable, but that was no excuse to tell him to get lost. He’d only been trying to help.

  He’d learned the hard way not to push ideas or advice on anyone else, so he let her go. She’d find her way, or she’d ask someone else for assistance. As far as he was concerned, she could drive around in circles if she wanted.

  In fact, that would be a kind of poetic justice.

  He tugged Tiny toward the clinic van. He’d drop the drool monster off to his anxious owner, and then get himself cleaned up for dinner. His grandmother had requested his company because she had something she wished to discuss with him.

  His mood improved as he thought of Abigail Carter. She took her position as head of the Carter family, the family for whom the town was named, seriously. It had been a blow to her and to the town when she’d had to close the mill. Since then, she’d been trying to find a way to inject life and money into the local economy.

  Nelson had no idea how she’d accomplish that, but if anyone could, it would be his grandmother. He’d carefully avoided any involvement himself. He wasn’t going to be that guy anymore, the one who made plans and moved heaven and earth to get them done.

  He was happy as things were, handling the care of the animal population of Carter’s Crossing and surrounds. He had his horses to fill up his spare time and energy. He had his grandmother for dinners and nagging, and friends to keep him company. He was good.

  He wasn’t going to hurt anyone again trying to get what he wanted. Even if all he wanted was to give someone directions to wherever they were going.

  Copyright © 2021 by Kim Findlay

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  ISBN-13: 9781488074448

  The Littlest Cowgirls

  Copyright © 2021 by Melinda Wooten

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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