Rescuing the Cowboy

by Cathy McDavid

  Quinn didn’t fool himself. The road ahead was bumpy and laden with potholes. He was okay with that, as long as he traveled the road with Summer.

  “Are you going to call the assistant warden and accept the job offer?” she asked.

  “Tomorrow.”

  “First thing?”

  “Later. I have other plans, including breakfast with my girlfriend.”

  “Girlfriend?”

  He pressed a last kiss to her lips. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too. What do you say we not do this again?”

  Linking fingers, they rounded the corner of the horse stables. Teddy was there, waiting with Cara. The moment he spotted Summer and Quinn, he broke into an awkward run.

  “Kin, Kin.”

  It took him a moment to realize Teddy had called him by name. “Hey, son.”

  Teddy grabbed both Quinn and Summer’s wrist and met their gazes for a little longer than usual. The three of them stood there for some time before finally letting go.

  Only Corrine was missing from this otherwise perfect day. Soon enough, though, he’d see her, and she’d learn he was her father.

  Then his life would be complete and his future bright, none of which would have been possible without the incredible woman standing beside him.

  Epilogue

  Fourteen months later

  Raquel sat on the bench in the front courtyard, the one by the cactus garden where they’d spread her beloved August’s ashes on this day two years ago. It was where she felt closest to him and not because this was his final resting place. This bench was where they’d talked, argued, laughed and professed their love.

  “You would be proud of your sons,” she said in a soft voice.

  She frequently spoke to August, certain he could hear her, and more than once she’d been caught. Nathan and Kimberly’s confusion when she tried to explain herself was cute to watch. Gabe always got a sad look on his face.

  “No baby yet for Gabe and Reese. I suppose I shouldn’t worry, they haven’t been married long. And Reese wants to work a couple more years at the bank before starting a family. They’ll do what they will in their own time—all my fretting won’t make a difference.”

  Raquel sighed expansively and pulled her jacket collar tighter against a sudden breeze sweeping across the courtyard.

  “They weren’t happy at first when you left the three of them the ranch, let me tell you.” She shook her head and tsked. “But Gabe, Cole and Josh are real brothers now. They love and support each other as if they grew up together instead of two states apart. Gabe is living at the Small Change and running the ranch full-time. Poor Theo’s Parkinson’s is advancing and he’s almost entirely housebound. But I suppose you know that.”

  She felt her only son’s absence acutely, even though he was a ten-minute drive away. For years, it had been just her, Gabe and August. The three of them against the world.

  “He’s happy, though,” Raquel continued, smiling to herself, “and that is what counts. Josh runs Dos Estrellas and does a good job.” She chuckled. “Okay, you’re right. A great job. You wouldn’t believe the only cattle he’d seen before coming here were calves and steers at the rodeo. He and Cara have a baby boy. Oh, he looks just like Josh. Nathan and Kimberly adore him and tell everyone they meet they’re his big brother and big sister.”

  The sun slipped in and out of the wispy clouds, alternately casting Raquel in light and shadow.

  “The mustang sanctuary and therapy program are bigger than ever.” She gasped softly. “Did you see Cara on television last week? She won an award for her efforts to protect and promote wild horses in the southwest. I think that’s how they said it.” She placed a hand over heart. “She was beautiful and so humble when she accepted the award. I cried like a baby.

  “And speaking of babies.” Raquel sat up straighter. “Did you ever see a more beautiful one than Cole and Violet’s? That little girl is an angel sent straight from heaven. I don’t know when I’ve ever seen such a happy family. Well, except for us, my love. Violet decided to keep working part-time—she adores watching the baby. That makes Cole the official livestock manager. He seems to like horse training and putting on those roping clinics.”

  A low rumble in the distance drew Raquel’s attention, and she looked toward the east. The bus from the prison in Florence had arrived, making its way down the road to pick up the work crew and return them to Florence.

  “Prisoners on Dos Estrellas.” Raquel lifted one shoulder. “Who would have guessed?”

  She’d had her doubts in the beginning, even though Gabe staunchly supported the work release program. Well, she’d been wrong more than once in her life. The program was a booming success for both the ranch and the workers. One former prisoner who had been guilty of fraud was released last month after working six months for the Dempseys. He’d landed a job at a ranch in New Mexico as a result of the program. Raquel supposed everyone deserved a second chance.

  “That Quinn,” she continued. “You never met him, which is a shame. He might have been born here, the way he’s taken to this ranch and the cattle business. He and Summer just announced their engagement. About time is all I have to say. Teddy’s a regular fixture here.” Raquel’s heart melted. “He calls me Bella. That’s the closest he can come to saying Abuella.”

  She spent some part of most days watching one child or another. Often several at once. Nothing made her happier.

  “Did I tell you I decided to move into the guest suite? This house is too big and too empty for just me. Josh, Cara and the three children are moving in. They keep insisting they don’t want to kick me out, as Cara says, and I keep insisting I want them to have the house. Really, I think I’ll be fine in the guest suite. And, besides, it’s time for the next generation of Dempseys to take over Dos Estrellas.”

  The sun emerged from behind another cloud, bathing Raquel in vivid sunlight. In the distance, cattle lowed, a horse whinnied and starlings chirped.

  All was right and as it should be, she decided. What August hadn’t accomplished in life, he’d accomplished in the two years since his passing. The ranch was thriving and would pass on to a fifth generation, old wounds were healed, and the Dempsey brothers and Quinn had become a close-knit and loving family, bound by not just blood, but adversity.

  Raquel was confident they would endure always, an integral part of this valley community and the people in it.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE COWBOY TAKES A WIFE by Trish Milburn.

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  The Cowboy Takes a Wife

  by Trish Milburn

  Chapter One

  Devon Newberry placed the skein of bright orange yarn and a dozen vanilla-scented candles in the paper bag and handed it across the counter to Merline Teague.

  “Thanks so much,” Devon said as she smiled at the older woman, the mom of local sheriff Simon Teague and his two brothers.

  “No, thank you, dear. Your candles keep the gallery smelling wonderful.”

  “I’m glad. I need to get by there soon. I haven’t been in a while.”

  “Oh, you should come by next week. We’re having an opening for a new exhibit of art created by students at the high school. I’m just in awe of the talent they have.”

  “That sounds wonderful. I’ll try to find some time to see it.”

  “Speaking of, I better run. I still have a lot of work to do to prepare. Thanks again,” Merline said as she lifted her bag and headed toward the door of Devon’s shop, A Good Yarn.

  Devon sank onto the stool behind the cash register, grateful to get off her feet for a moment. The shop had been busy all afternoon, which was wonderful but also tiring. And she still had to prep the daily deposit and attend a meeting at the Blue Falls Tourist Bureau about the new Arts and Crafts Trail. But she wasn’t going to complain about having a rush of customers, not when the fear of being an abject failure was as fresh now as it’d been when she’d opened her shop on Blue Falls’ Main Street. Not when her mother’s assertion that she was making a stupid mistake still echoed in her mind if she let it.

  No, she was beyond thankful that the turning of the seasons to autumn put people in the mood to buy knitting supplies, hand-dipped candles and the various other homey touches Devon offered, even though the temperatures were still in the upper eighties during the day.

  She let her gaze drift over the variety of displays she’d taken great care to create in order to best showcase both the products she made herself and those she chose from other sources. A well of pride rose within her. She was closing in on the two-year anniversary for A Good Yarn and felt like celebrating. She needed to plan a special event to bring loads of people into the shop that day.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised by how late it was. Planning for her own event would have to wait until after the meeting about the one already in the works. As she stood, she thought maybe it could even wait until tomorrow. After the Arts and Crafts Trail meeting, she just might have a date with a luxurious bath and a good book.

  She was in the midst of completing the day’s tally and mentally picking out what book she wanted to read during her bath when her cell phone rang. When she saw the display, her good mood evaporated. And then she felt guilty about her immediate reaction. She shouldn’t feel dread when faced with having to talk to her mother. But then, most people probably didn’t anticipate disapproval every time they talked to their moms, either.

  Not wanting to be late for the meeting, she ignored the call and let it go to voice mail. With the bank deposit in hand, she blew out the pumpkin-spice candle and headed out the door, locking it behind her.

  After a quick zip to the bank to make the deposit, she walked down the street to the Tourist Bureau office. The parking lot was full of vehicles, and several people were still making their way inside. Looked like a nice turnout, which was good since the self-guided trail that was to lead tourists from one artist’s or craftsperson’s gallery or shop to the next throughout the county was set to launch in mid-October, just in time for holiday shoppers. From the moment Gina Tolbert, executive director of the Tourist Bureau, had floated the idea to Devon, she’d known she wanted A Good Yarn to be a part of the trail. She was all for anything that brought attention to local artists and people who created products through sustainable means.

  She said hello to Ella Garcia and her fiancé, Austin Bryant, as she made her way into the crowded entryway. As she scooted past a knot of people who’d paused to chat, she bumped into someone.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said as she turned to see whom she’d nearly bowled over. And had to look up, right into the bright blue eyes of Cole Davis.

  She swallowed as her brain chose that moment to forget its job.

  “Are you okay?”

  Huh? Did he say something? Oh good grief, you’re acting like an idiot, like an awkward teenager with a crush on the high school quarterback. Yes, she’d been that awkward teen, but Cole hadn’t been the quarterback. No, he’d been the star of the school’s rodeo team, and then he’d ridden his way onto the pro circuit.

  “Uh, yeah,” she said, her brain finally remembering she was supposed to say something. “Fine.” She glanced around the room, pretending that she wasn’t flustered. “Crowded in here.”

  “Devon, honey, good to see you.” Barbara Davis stepped up beside her son, all smiles as usual. She looked like the perfect grandmother, only without the grandchildren.

  “You, too.”

  Barbara motioned toward a row of chairs about halfway back the meeting room. “I found us some seats.”

  Devon saw that there were three empty chairs midway down the row and realized Barbara meant for Devon to join them. Since she couldn’t come up with a polite way to refuse, she headed for the designated spot, intending to take the farthest chair so she’d have Barbara between her and Cole. Her plan was foiled a moment after Devon stepped past the first people in the row to reach her seat.

  “You go next, Cole,” Barbara said. “If you sit in the other chair, poor Ella won’t be able to see anything but your back.”

  Devon looked at the row behind her and noticed that Ella and Austin had indeed found seats there. Too late to make a change now without looking like a flake. Oh well, she’d just concentrate on what Gina had to say and start brainstorming ideas for her anniversary celebration.

  But when Cole sank onto the chair next to her a few seconds later, she realized that if she left this meeting knowing one word Gina or anyone else said, it would be a miracle worthy of the name.

  Never had she found concentrating so difficult. She focused all her attention on Gina and the report of how many participants were signed up to take part in the trail—currently fifteen—but then Cole shifted beside her. He rubbed his large, tanned, powerful-looking hand down his jean-clad thigh, and she could swear she gulped loud enough to be heard in Oklahoma.

  That thigh had gripped the side of countless mean bulls during his years on the pro rodeo circuit. She remembered happening upon a competition on TV once. She’d nearly brought blood to her lip from biting it as he rode. When he’d been tossed through the air as if he weighed no more than a gnat and slammed into the dirt of the arena, she’d actually cried out, startling her cat so much that Honeysuckle had fled into the next room.

  Devon dragged her attention back to what Gina was saying, something about how the trail was going to be laid out. Doing her best to ignore the man beside her, Devon made a point of taking notes on a small notepad. But she would swear she could feel Cole’s body heat. Or was that her own body temperature going whacko? It was as if he was giving off a megadose of pheromones. And for a guy who worked on a ranch, around cows and horses, he sure did smell good. Like he’d just stepped out from a shower and dried off with a fresh towel straight from the dryer.

  She mentally rolled her eyes. Honestly, it wasn’t as if she never saw the man. Granted, that was usually from a safe distance.

  She dragged her thoughts back to the presentation again, raising her hand when Gina asked who all
was willing to do a prize giveaway on the inaugural trail weekend. Out of the corner of her eye, Devon noticed Barbara raise her hand, as well. Whoever won one of Barbara’s handmade quilts would be one lucky duck. The woman was very skilled with needle and thread and with coming up with original designs.

  Devon was confused, however, when Barbara tapped her son’s hand, indicating he should raise his, as well. Did that mean Barbara was going to do two giveaways? That was beyond supportive of the town’s new venture. When Cole started to say something, Barbara shushed him as if he were still a little boy. He obediently raised his hand.

  Not wanting to show how humorous she found the entire mother-son exchange, Devon pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. How cute was a guy who still minded his mama.

  Stop thinking about how cute he is. Think of something else, anything else!

  Like how his high school girlfriend and eventual wife, Amy Frost, had been a complete witch to Devon back when the three of them had attended Blue Falls High. Those interactions were proof that it didn’t matter how much money you had. If someone didn’t think you dressed the right way, liked the right things, befriended the right classmates, they could make your life miserable.

  Of course, thinking about Amy led to a memory of Cole during that same period, a memory that had taken on enormous importance to her teenage self. Maybe it still held more than it should.

  “I swear, Devon, you were born into the wrong family,” Amy had said as she sat nearly glued to Cole’s side at their lunch table. She made a dismissive gesture toward Devon’s loose cotton boho pants and oversize sweater. “You have the money to buy great clothes and you come to school looking like you picked through the donation bin at church.”

  Devon swallowed hard, trying not to cry. Could she stop Amy’s barbs if she’d just wear the things her mother constantly brought home to her from Austin or San Antonio? No, she just couldn’t do it, and not only because the outfits were totally not her style. Her mother was also oblivious to the fact that they weren’t even the right size. The pants and dresses and stylish tops were made for a person three sizes smaller than Devon. It made her want to scream every time a new shopping bag showed up on her bed. What was ironic was a lot of those items ended up at the same church clothes’ closet Amy accused her of frequenting as a recipient.