A DISTRACTION HE DOESN’T NEED!
Archer Boone’s whole life revolves around his work at his family’s ranch and horse refuge. Animals are just so much less complicated than people. But he needs to get the refuge’s financial paperwork in order so he can secure his funding. When Eden Caraway arrives to work on his books, Archer can’t afford to be distracted by the beautiful single mom and her two adorable daughters.
Eden Caraway is really Eden Monroe, and she is determined to earn her father’s respect. So if he wants to pull funding from Archer Boone’s horse refuge, she’ll make it happen. But Eden is falling for Archer, and she dreams of staying at Boone Ranch. How can she reveal her real reason for being there and risk losing her heart?
Miss Caraway’s eyes widened. “I appreciate your concern, Dr. Boone—”
“Good,” he said. “Let me make this clear. Unless I am with them, your daughters need to stay away from the horses. Especially Fester. Is that understood?”
She blinked but didn’t say a word. Ivy was frowning, tears welling up in her big eyes.
“He mad, Momma?” Ivy whispered.
“No, Ivy. He wants to keep you safe.” Eden’s voice was soft and soothing.
Archer didn’t miss the lethal glare Eden shot his way before she headed back to the minivan.
Her anger wasn’t important. He was her boss—his place, his rules. He glanced at Eden. Ivy stared back at him over her mother’s shoulder. Her golden curls danced on the breeze, her huge hazel eyes unblinking. He sighed. Ivy waved, her tiny fingers splayed wide even as her chin quivered. He was a jerk. But he’d never meant to make the little girl cry. A little girl who kept waving.
So he waved back.
Her smile was so bright, he had no choice but to smile in return.
Dear Reader,
Archer Boone has no interest in marriage, babies or anything that will interfere with his work. After years of building up the Boone horse refuge, he knows hard work and dedication are what keep the place running.
Eden Monroe is at the horse refuge to cut their funding and win her father’s approval. But seeing the refuge up close, meeting the man responsible for the good being done there and learning there’s far more to her father’s wishes than she thought changes Eden. Not only does she begin to question her father’s motivation, but she begins to question herself and what she wants in life—for herself and her precious baby girls.
I hope you enjoy seeing the prickliest of the Boone brothers fall in love. I know I had a great time writing this story.
I’m super excited to share that four more Boone books are in the works! Lots of cowboys, romance and family fun for pages to come. Anyone in particular you’d love to read about? I’d love to hear your thoughts on that, or any of the Boone books, at [email protected].
Thanks so much for reading!
Sasha
A COWBOY TO
CALL DADDY
Sasha Summers
Sasha Summers grew up surrounded by books. Her passions have always been storytelling, romance and travel. Whether it’s an easy-on-the-eyes cowboy or a hero of truly mythic proportions, Sasha falls a little in love with each and every one of her heroes. She frequently gets lost with her characters in the worlds she creates, forgetting those everyday tasks like laundry and dishes. Luckily, her four brilliant children and hero-inspiring hubby are super understanding and helpful.
Books by Sasha Summers
Harlequin Western Romance
The Boones of Texas
A Cowboy’s Christmas Reunion
Twins for the Rebel Cowboy
Courted by the Cowboy
Harlequin Blaze
Seducing the Best Man
Christmas in His Bed
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
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To all the cowboy lovers out there!
You know a real hero when you see (read) one!
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
Excerpt from Rodeo Rancher by Mary Sullivan
Chapter One
After a leisurely drive admiring wildflower-laden fields, open pastures, and acres of cattle and horses, Eden’s morning took a sharp U-turn back into Sucksville. Only this time she wasn’t trapped at work, she was stuck in unknown territory. Boone Ranch Refuge was far off the beaten track, smack-dab in the middle of the Texas Hill Country. Things had been looking up when she turned off the two-lane county road and driven through the impressive wood and stone archway that assured her she’d reached Boone Ranch.
Her sudden flare of nerves wasn’t surprising. She had a lot to do and a limited time to do it. And this time, she was determined to earn her father’s respect. Did she wish there was another way? Yes, definitely. Her mother’s support of Boone Ranch Refuge had been unwavering. And on paper, the work done here was worth funding. But her father insisted things weren’t as on the up-and-up as they seemed. So Eden was here—without her father’s blessing—to look deeper, review every scrap of paper, bill, invoice and ledger. Her father might believe that his word was enough to sway the board’s opinion, but Eden knew better. Before she left, she’d make sure her father and the board were satisfied.
Logically, she needed to start at the refuge. But dropping in on a grantee for a surprise audit was a first. Normally, she’d give her applicants a checklist of what she needed and time to get everything in order. But this was different. She had a job to do and not much time to do it. The infamously prickly Dr. Boone would have to deal with the inconvenience. Still, she suspected he wouldn’t be pleased. But dealing with Dr. Boone would be worth it if she left with information that made her father happy.
The sun poured into her small black rental car, so she kicked up the air-conditioning and drove on, bouncing over a cattle guard. The farther she drove, the more removed from the real world she felt. Ambling cows and a herd of red-and-white goats dotted the sprawling pastureland. It was peaceful and quiet, soothing to her frazzled nerves. She bounced across another cattle guard and dodged a wild-eyed roadrunner.
But her drive was cut short when the car’s engine sputtered. She coasted to a stop, staring at the dash. No lights. No beeping. No clicks. And no air-conditioning. Just dead. She opened the door, the heat immediately stifling in the small car, and sat there hoping something miraculous would happen. Like the car starting. She closed her eyes, rested her head on the headrest and tried to think.
But when she opened her eyes, she screamed, pressing herself back into the car seat to avoid the massive black horse that had shoved its head inside the tiny car, putting them eye to eye. And scaring the crap out of her.
Her scream made the horse skitter back, knocking its head on the door frame, sliding on the red dirt and sending rocks flying in its wake.
She pried her fingers off the steering wheel and covered her face. What was wrong with her? It was a horse. A hor
se. On a horse refuge.
Her fingers sought out the three turquoise stones on her braided leather bracelet. Three stones, three words. Take a breath. Krista, her counselor, said it was a centering phrase. Take a breath. Sometimes—like now—Eden substituted her own words. Keep it together.
Yes, having an immobile car was inconvenient. And her dead cell phone, which she’d been charging in the car, was no help. But she wasn’t the damsel-in-distress type. Was she thrilled about the two-plus-mile trek ahead of her? No. Not at all. She was irritated and hot, but none of this was earth-shattering.
That included an excessively inquisitive animal. She glanced out the door at the giant black horse. A horse that was already too close again, its thickly fringed eyes focused on her.
She met the animal’s unwavering gaze. “Would you please back up?”
The horse didn’t move.
She took a deep breath and slowly climbed out of the car.
The horse flicked its ears in her direction, the head rose, big brown eyes blinked. She stood, her back pressed against the hot metal of her car, and waited. But the horse didn’t move, so she did. And scraped her ankle against the side of a cactus.
“Damn it.” She pulled her leg back, stooping to examine the spot. Two sharp needles stuck out of her pale skin. Her sweat-slick fingers made pulling the thorns free a challenge. One she cursed through. By the time she was needle free, her skin stung. “Damn it.”
The horse snorted, loudly.
“My skin’s not as tough as yours,” she muttered, glaring at the glossy black face. You’re talking to a horse. Upside, it couldn’t argue, yell or demean her. Best conversation of her day so far. “It’s been a shit day,” she added, because there was no one to reprimand her for her unladylike language. Even stranded and overheated, there was something freeing about not having someone looking over her shoulder, criticizing her every word and deed.
She’d barely finished her morning cup of tea when she’d had her first fight of the day with her father. He resented her reminder to take his meds and avoid stress. Next, a fight with her brother about what the word deadline meant—a suggested timeline, Greg’s take, or an actual due date and cutoff, Eden’s perspective. His frustration toward her over his misunderstanding never failed to amaze her. But Greg always found a way to make everything her fault. By the time she’d hurried home to hand the girls off to her ex-husband, Clark, she was ready to cry. Considering how distracted and impatient Clark had been, Eden’s concern over her daughters’ first multi-night visit with their father escalated. And the girls...
She swallowed. Thinking about her baby girls right now wasn’t smart. They were with their father. For all his failings as a husband, he was trying to be a good father. But Eden knew the only reason she wasn’t hyperventilating over the separation was because Clara, her wonder nanny, was with them. Eden didn’t know how she’d ever survive without the older woman—not with the hours she kept and the stress she shouldered.
Stress. She could deal with stress. It was a constant in her life. Like now. Stuck here. Alone. With a black horse staring at her, invading her personal space—almost nose to nose.
“Is this some sort of horse greeting?” she asked, trying not to flinch as the horse sniffed her head and chest. It’s just a horse. Granted, it was a huge black horse, but what’s the worst it could do?
The horse made a strange sound, shaking its head and flipping its long, matted mane before clacking its teeth together.
What did that mean? Should she be worried?
No, she wasn’t going to worry. If she ignored it, it would leave her alone. She hoped.
She shaded her eyes and peered down the dirt-and-rock road. Since she hadn’t seen a car or truck in the last twenty minutes, she might as well start walking. She tugged her wheeled computer bag from the backseat and tucked her almost-empty water bottle into the side pocket. She had no other luggage. Because the last fight she’d had this morning was with the airline. For reasons unknown, they’d sent her suitcase to Arizona. But they’d happily offered to deliver it to the Lodge, the bed-and-breakfast housed on Boone Ranch where she’d be staying, as soon as it was located.
The cloudless blue sky was endless—no hint of any reprieve from the late-August afternoon heat. She twisted her hair, clipping it high on the back of her head, and set off down the red dirt road, dragging her wheeled briefcase behind her. She was not going to acknowledge the big black horse following directly behind her.
Take a breath.
Keep it together.
It was hot. Her black jacket, black pencil skirt and heels were soaking up the heat like a well-wrung sponge. She tugged off her blazer and tucked it over the strap of her wheeled briefcase. Her white camisole was much cooler. She could only hope her SPF 35 sunscreen would save her from getting too burned.
It was rugged country, with rock outcrops, twisted oaks, brightly colored wildflowers and needle-heavy cacti. But it was gorgeous in a wild, untamed way. The chirp of songbirds, the whir and hiss of the cicadas, and the rhythmic clip-clop of her traveling companion’s hooves offered a complementary soundscape.
Her heel caught between two rocks, so she paused, tugging her shoe free. What she wouldn’t give for her tennis shoes right about now. The horse, however, didn’t stop. When she had her shoe back on and she was on two feet again, the horse...hugged her. His massive head rested on her shoulder, offering her what she could only consider an embrace—minus the arms.
She laughed; she couldn’t help it. “You’re a charmer, aren’t you? Let’s keep going.”
The horse swished its tangled black tail, brown eyes fixed on her and ears perked up.
Eden set off again, stopping only when her shoes were too full of rocks or dirt to walk comfortably. And every time she stopped, so did the horse.
By the time she reached the refuge, she was overheated, dripping sweat and thoroughly exhausted. But even dehydration and throbbing feet didn’t diminish the fact that Boone Ranch Refuge was impressive. Too bad her phone wasn’t working; she could take a few pictures of the place her father was hell-bent on closing down. A place her mother had always championed.
Something large and solid bumped her between the shoulders, almost knocking her off her feet. She glanced back at the horse, tentatively rubbing her hand along its thick neck. “I’m assuming that’s home.” She kept her voice low, the same soothing tone she used when her daughters were sick or upset.
The horse snorted, pushing his nose into her chest.
“I’m going, I’m going.” She smiled at the horse before hobbling forward, her briefcase bouncing along, rattling loudly.
When she walked under the arched Boone Ranch Refuge sign, she breathed a sigh of relief. First order of business, kicking off her shoes. The sooner, the better.
Several men formed a sea of cowboy hats. They stopped to stare at her as she headed toward the steps of the building with the small sign that read Refuge Office and Education Center. A building she hoped would house a bathroom. And ice-cold air-conditioning. And a comfy chair.
“You’ve got a shadow,” one of the cowboys said, hurrying to take the handle of her bag. “Let me help.” He smiled, pushing his hat back on his forehead.
“I’ve got it, thanks.” She glanced back, the black horse still tracking her. “He’s determined.”
“He been following you for long?” the man asked, his megawatt smile a little too phony for her. Clark had a similar smile. She’d never fall for that again.
“My car broke down past the second cattle guard. He’s been with me ever since.”
“He pulled a Houdini this morning—doesn’t like being fenced in. Always seems to find his way home around dinnertime.” He laughed, shaking his head. He was very handsome. “Count yourself lucky. Fester’s been known to bite the hand that feeds him more than once.”
She glanced at the horse, gra
teful Fester deemed her un-bite-able. Maybe the horse didn’t like megawatt smiles, either. She fanned herself, hot, tired and out of patience. “I’m looking for Dr. Archer Boone?”
“Well, that’s a shame. I’m his cousin, Toben Boone.” His demeanor grew a little too friendly for her liking. So she leveled him with her most professional—and most icy—stare. His eyebrows kicked high on his forehead, but his smile didn’t dim. “Fair warning. Fester might be on his best behavior, but my cousin’s in one hell of a bad mood.” He shrugged, calling out, “Archer, there’s someone to see you.”
She didn’t miss the head-to-toe sweep Toben Boone gave her. Or the way it ratcheted up her irritation. Please, God, don’t let Archer Boone be anything like his cousin.
The glass door opened slowly. A tall man with sandy blond hair stepped onto the porch, his attention riveted on the papers he held. This was the Dr. Archer Boone? With all the degrees, special certifications, awards and recommendations? He looked...like a cowboy. Jeans, plaid shirt, boots. Younger than she’d thought. Fit. And strikingly handsome.
His pale blue eyes barely looked her way, the slightly confused and disinterested expression a stark contrast to Toben’s openly appreciative assessment.
She waited.
Archer looked up, his gaze narrowing. “There’s Fester.” He rested a hand on his hip, nodding at her horse companion. “Think you can put him in a pen that’ll hold him this time?”
She didn’t miss the “this time.” Or the way Toben Boone’s smile dimmed.
Archer looked at her again, as if only realizing there was someone else on the porch. His expression went from confused to openly hostile.
“You’re late.” Disapproval was clear in his voice. “Follow me.” He disappeared inside without another word.
She stared after the man, in shock. Late for what? No one knew she was coming.
“That’s Archer,” Toben said. “I’d tell you he’s a son of a bitch, but it’s not right to talk about family like that.” He winked at her. “Good luck.”
A Cowboy to Call Daddy Page 1