Her Montana Cowboy

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Her Montana Cowboy Page 19

by Valerie Hansen


  Bullfighters closed in. The whistle blew.

  Ryan’s hand was now wedged in the rigging. His spur came loose when he lost consciousness, leaving him hanging like a rag doll.

  The bull kept lunging and spinning, trying to hook his senseless body with a horn to finish him off.

  Julie finally screamed, “No!” The man she loved was going to die right in front of her eyes and she was helpless to stop it.

  Without a thought for her own safety, she slid off the fence and dropped into the arena.

  A blur shot past at the edge of her vision, heading straight for the injured cowboy and the wild bull.

  “Dan! No!” She lunged for the trailing end of the leash and missed. This could not be happening.

  Running forward, she bit back sobs. She was going to lose them both!

  * * *

  Ryan was only slightly aware he was in trouble. Years of training and well-honed survival instincts urged him to try to get his feet under him before he was trampled.

  He heard Slammer bellow and the bullfighters start to curse. Then, suddenly, his hand was loose and he was being flung to the side.

  Landing in loose dirt, he lay there, stunned, wondering where his adversary was and how soon he’d be freight trained, the slang term for being run down and smashed flat by horns and hooves.

  A pickup horse passed close by at a gallop, its rider swinging a wide loop.

  Ryan raised on one elbow to see if the rider was going to be able to lasso the bull and guide him out of the arena. Dust burned his eyes and his head throbbed as if he had been hit by a train.

  Lights flashed. Men were yelling. A woman was screaming. A warm, wet tongue was licking his face. Huh?

  Ryan fought to sit up. Several pairs of strong hands held him down. He tried to focus.

  “Mmm,” he groaned. “Must be dreaming.”

  “I wish we both were,” Julie whispered, her lips only inches from his. “I thought I’d lost you before I had a chance to tell you.”

  Still groggy, Ryan was beginning to make sense of some of his current sensations. The only one that didn’t fit was Julie on her knees in the dirt of the rodeo arena.

  “Tell me what?” he mumbled.

  “This. I don’t care whether you like it or not or whether you stay or go. I’m crazy in love with you and I don’t care who hears me say it.”

  “You don’t mean that,” Ryan mustered the strength to argue, although not as forcefully as he’d intended.

  “I most certainly do.” There were unshed tears in Julie’s eyes as she cupped his cheeks, leaned closer and kissed him. “Are you conscious enough to appreciate that?”

  “I’m close,” Ryan said. “But you must have gotten butted in the head, too, if you think I’m going to ruin your life by admitting I’m in love with you.”

  “I think you just did.”

  He waved off the medics as they continued to try to assess his physical state. “I’m injured. Out of my mind. I can’t be held responsible for any idiotic babbling.”

  “Then I suppose you’re going to claim my dog didn’t just save your life.”

  “What?” He permitted the medics to help him sit up instead of transferring him to a backboard. If at all possible, he intended to leave the arena under his own steam. Right after he scolded Julie for coming anywhere near the inside when there was a bull present.

  One of the nearby bullfighters spoke up, clearly disgusted. “Stupid mutt almost got us all killed when he latched on to that bull’s nose with his teeth.”

  “Unbelievable,” Ryan said. “He’s supposed to be a heeler.”

  Julie rocked back, beaming and hugging her panting canine. “I guess Dan never read the sheepdog manual. When he saw you in trouble, he did what he had to do.”

  “Then I hope the mayor has a big checkbook,” Ryan said as he was helped to his feet. “The stock contractor who owns Slammer is not going to be a happy camper.”

  She slid an arm around Ryan’s waist while one of the medics supported him on the opposite side. They walked away, listening to a crescendo of applause and shouts from the crowd, with Dan trailing them.

  “Well, I am,” Julie told him. “Happy, I mean. I can’t believe we were going to go our separate ways without telling each other how we felt.”

  “My dad deserted my mother,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know the details before my last visit, but I’d always suspected he ran out on her. That’s the kind of dysfunctional family I come from.”

  “So? My father is a control freak who tends to abuse his power and try to run everything and everybody. Does that mean I’m like him?”

  Ryan managed a smile as he drawled, “Well…you did jump into the arena to try to save me when you knew how crazy it was. I can understand your dog doing something that stupid, but I thought you had better sense.”

  “How do you know I didn’t do it to rescue the dog?”

  “Because it was me you said you were in love with.”

  The sound of her ensuing laughter did a lot to heal his aches and pains. In the future, he knew it was going to be a sound he wanted to hear every single day for the rest of his life.

  “Then I guess I’ll have to marry you to keep you in line,” he gibed, knowing that would set her off again.

  “You sure will,” she told him lovingly, tenderly. “You can go to rodeos all over the lower forty-eight and beyond if you want to, but it’ll be with my ring on your finger.”

  “You are a bossy woman, Miss Peep.”

  She laughed lightly and kissed his dusty cheek. “Cowboy, when you’re right, you’re right.”

  Epilogue

  Julie held up her hand to let Mert admire the diamond in her engagement ring, then turned back to Ryan. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

  He laughed. “What? Buy the ring or marry you?”

  “Agree to be part of the Olde Tyme Wedding.”

  “I don’t see why not.” He bestowed a lopsided grin and arched an eyebrow. “Unless you’ve changed your mind and want to elope.”

  “I do and I don’t,” Julie said soberly. “I don’t want to disappoint all my family and friends, but I don’t want you to miss the finals in Vegas because of me, either.”

  “Not a problem. Really. I can catch it next fall as a spectator if I don’t go to enough rodeos to accumulate the points to enter. This year I want to be here to supervise the details of our new house.” His easy smile reflected pure contentment. “I’d always planned to buy a ranch of my own, I just never dreamed it would be so soon or that I’d end up raising sheep on it.”

  “Not exclusively,” Julie replied. “You already have enough horses to supply an old-fashioned posse.”

  “Hey, I like to ride. It’s a lot more fun than one of your dad’s ATVs.”

  “Maybe.” Over his shoulder she noticed rancher Jack McGuire joining them at the lunch counter. “That reminds me. Do you play baseball?” she asked Ryan.

  His brow furrowed. “Not since I was a kid. Why?”

  Julie leaned forward to peer past him and called, “Hey, Jack. I’d like you to meet Ryan Travers.”

  The men shook hands.

  “My pleasure,” McGuire said amiably.

  “You the pro ballplayer Julie told me about?”

  “I was going to turn pro,” Jack said. “My plans were changed for me a long time ago.”

  Julie was pleased to see that Ryan’s broad grin remained when he told Jack, “A guy’s original ideas can change for the better without him even realizing it at first. I know mine have. I’ve just made a down payment on my own spread.”

  “Congratulations.” McGuire leaned away and picked up his coffee mug. />
  Julie wasn’t deterred. “You should think about helping with the baseball tournament next month, Jack. You have a lot to offer and it might be fun for a change. Team practice would at least get you off that ranch of yours and back into civilization once in a while.”

  Although the rancher merely shrugged, Julie was pleased to note that he had not turned her down flat. Dad and the other members of the centennial planning committee would be delighted to hear that.

  As for her, she had other things on her mind. Slipping a hand around her fiancé’s arm, she leaned closer to him and sighed. The newest citizen of Jasper Gulch was the dearest to her heart and took up nearly all her thoughts, waking and dreaming.

  She could hardly wait for the big bash in October when she’d finally become Mrs. Ryan Travers. Good thing her wedding dress was going to be floor length like all the others. That way nobody would know she was shod in cowboy boots, and it could be a special surprise for her husband. It thrilled her to the core and gave her goose bumps to imagine his amazing laugh and the way his eyes would sparkle when he finally saw her feet.

  The way Julie viewed their future, the boots would be only one of the many surprises awaiting them, and she thanked God for bringing them together—from the bottom of her heart.

  * * * * *

  If you liked this BIG SKY CENTENNIAL novel, watch for the next book, HIS MONTANA SWEETHEART, by Ruth Logan Herne, available August 2014

  And don’t miss a single story in the

  BIG SKY CENTENNIAL miniseries:

  Book #1: HER MONTANA COWBOY

  by Valerie Hansen

  Book #2: HIS MONTANA SWEETHEART

  by Ruth Logan Herne

  Book #3: HER MONTANA TWINS

  by Carolyne Aarsen

  Book #4: HIS MONTANA BRIDE

  by Brenda Minton

  Book #5: HIS MONTANA HOMECOMING

  by Jenna Mindel

  Book #6: HER MONTANA CHRISTMAS

  by Arlene James

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE BACHELOR NEXT DOOR by Kathryn Springer.

  Dear Reader,

  As you may have noticed, I love small towns and rodeos. Cowboys don’t make bad heroes, either! Maybe the hat and the boots contribute, but I think it’s their character and quiet inner strength that makes many of them so special. Personally, I fell for the hat and six-guns. Never did get the horse!

  In this story, Ryan believes his mistake is unforgivable then learns otherwise after suffering needlessly. If you take nothing else away from this book, I pray you will understand that in God’s eyes, there is no sin that won’t be forgiven if you confess it and turn to the Lord.

  Blessings,

  Questions for Discussion

  Are you interested in the sport of rodeo? Did you think of it in those terms before reading this book?

  Does it seem natural to want to be on the road all the time or would you want a home base if you were a rider?

  How many times have you seen a parent or friend try to set up a romance? Was it embarrassing?

  Why was Julie so worried about Ryan’s faith, or the lack of it? Did that make sense to you?

  If Ryan had not found out how his mother felt about him and his brother, do you think he’d have been able to overcome his hang-ups and forgive himself the way God forgave him?

  Who could have stolen the time capsule? When and why?

  Did you worry about Lucy Shaw? Could you understand why a young woman would run away, particularly in 1926, when women had so few rights compared to today?

  Julie was actually an internet entrepreneur as well as a rancher. Do you know anyone else like that?

  Even things that are fun can be a business, like rodeo riding or raising sheep. How many people can you think of who are actually happy to go to work every day? (FYI, I happen to be one of them!)

  Jasper Gulch is a fictional town, yet true to life in many ways. Do you know of a place like that, where everybody knows just about everyone else and there are minor political and operational spats from time to time?

  The old bridge was no longer safe for traffic. Can you see why some would want to save it and others resist? Why would they care? Money? Memories? Prejudice against others who disagree?

  Many older towns lose track of their history as time goes by. Do you think it is something worth preserving?

  In the end, Ryan adopted Julie’s lifestyle, at least in part. Do you think she was wise to tell him he was also free to pursue his rodeo career?

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.

  You believe hearts can heal. Love Inspired stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.

  Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired every month!

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

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  Chapter One

  He didn’t have time for this.

  Brendan Kane followed the path of destruction down the hall to the living room, where tiny pieces of white foam scattered across the hardwood floor made it look as if an early snowfall had swept across Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. The trail wound between the coffee table and leather recliner and disappeared behind the sofa.

  Brendan knelt down for a better look. Sure enough, peering at him over a barricade of stolen goods was the perpetrator of the latest crime spree. A slightly overweight basset hound happily stripping the remaining leaves from the branch of a silk ficus his mother had rescued from the curb just moments before it was devoured by the steel jaws of the garbage truck.

  Because rescuing things was part of Sunni’s M.O., which was how Brendan had ended up with Missy, a troublesome canine who preferred leather shoes, artificial plants and, yes, even the occasional sofa pillow, over rawhide chews.

  “There are laws against vandalism, you know.” He scowled at the dog but she ignored him. It reminded Brendan of Sunni’s response when he’d told her that he was too busy to care for a pet.

  A few months ago, his mother had started volunteering at the local animal shelter, and it had become her personal mission to find homes for all the stray dogs and cats that came in on her watch. Sunni was gaining quite a reputation in Castle Falls for her ability to match an animal with just the right owner. But so far, when it came to her oldest son, she was 0 for 3.

  Brendan had been waiting for her to realize that he was the common denominator in all the failed relationships.

  “This is strike three, you know.” And he was out. “You’re going to have to chew someone else out of house and—” Brendan paused as his cell phone began to blast the theme song from Mission: Impossible, signaling an incoming call from his youngest brother.

  Brendan stabbed at the green circle on the screen. “What?”

  “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” Aiden’s low chuckle rattled in his ear. “Are you busy?”

  “I’m always busy.” Brendan narrowed his eyes at the basset hound. She’d dropped the ficus branch and was eyeing his shoelaces as if they were the next item on the buffet. “Don’t even think about it,” he muttered.

  “Don’t think about what?”

  “I wasn’t talking to you.”

  “Okay,” Aiden said mildly. “Then who are you talking to?”

  Busted.

  “No one.”

  “Disturbing. And proof you need to get out more.”

  “Fine. I was talking to…Missy.” Brendan was forced to be hone
st, although he hated giving his kid brother any ammunition that could potentially be used against him in the future.

  “Are you kidding?” Aiden hooted. Obviously forgetting the fact that he was four years younger, two inches shorter and had yet to beat Brendan in hand-to-hand sibling combat. “Liam and I didn’t think she’d last a week.”

  Brendan silently counted backward. “You were right.”

  The statement was followed by a whistle that threatened to pierce his left eardrum. “Have you broken the news to Mom?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Can I watch?”

  “Very funny.” Brendan swept up a handful of damp leaf debris. “I tried to tell her this was destined to fail.”

  Missy cast a reproachful look in his direction, took a few waddling steps forward and leaped onto the couch. No easy feat for an animal roughly the size and shape of the pillow she’d recently shredded.

  “You know Mom,” Aiden said. “She wants everyone to be happy.”

  “Then why isn’t she leaving dogs on your doorstep?”

  Brendan relocated an African violet from the windowsill to the stone ledge above the fireplace. Just in case.

  “Maybe she thinks you need the practice,” his brother said cheerfully.

  Brendan scowled. “What kind of practice?”

  “Uh…the commitment kind?”

  “I am committed.” To the business he’d poured his heart and soul into for the past fifteen years. At sixteen, Brendan had saved Castle Falls Outfitters from bankruptcy. Ten years later, he’d doubled its annual profit. And any day now, if everything went according to plan, he would be signing a contract with a large sporting-goods chain, making their custom-made canoes available throughout the Midwest.

  No one seemed to realize that kind of responsibility didn’t leave a whole lot of time for anything else. Not that Brendan was complaining. It would take a lifetime to repay the debt he owed Sunni Mason, a woman who’d taken in three aspiring juvenile delinquents when they’d had nowhere else to go.

 

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