Tomas: Cowboy Homecoming

by Warren, Linda

“I hear them,” Cheyenne replied, kissing his shoulder. “I guess we better get up.”

  “Yep.” He reached for his robe.

  The early moonlight spilled through the window, and Tuf glanced around his horseshoe bedroom. Never in a million years did he ever think he’d have Cheyenne Wright in his bed, much less make love to her until after midnight. It seemed surreal at times, but wondrous and uplifting, too.

  So much had happened since Vegas. They were married that last night of the rodeo in a small chapel surrounded by the whole family.

  Once the ceremony was over, Sadie had asked the minister, “Are they married?”

  The man looked a little confused, but answered, “Yes.”

  “Is Tuf our daddy now?” Sadie had quizzed Cheyenne.

  “Yes, baby.” They did the twin-talk whispering thing, and from that moment on they called him Daddy. It sounded right and it felt right. In the New Year, he planned to hire a lawyer to adopt them. He and Cheyenne had talked about it. They would keep Sundell as their middle names.

  When they’d returned from Vegas, they’d stayed at the Wright house, but it was crowded. There was no place for his clothes in Cheyenne’s jewelry-supply-cluttered room. He slept there and ate there but showered and changed at his mom’s until Cheyenne could make room. He even looked at mobile homes to solve the problem, then his mother had stepped in. She wanted them to move into the house. She said they could have the upstairs because she never went up there unless she was forced to.

  Tuf wasn’t sure how the family would feel about that, so he called a family meeting. Ace said he and Flynn were happy at the McKinley place and he had no problem with the arrangement. Neither did Colt and Leah, who had house plans already drawn up and were starting construction soon. Beau had plans to fix up the foreman’s house for him and Sierra, and Duke and Angie had their own place. That left Dinah. She surprised them by saying she had no desire to live in her childhood home. She and Austin wanted to build a home one day either on the Wright property or at Thunder Ranch. Because of his mother’s heart condition, they all felt better that someone would be in the house with Sarah. No one had enough nerve to tell her that, though.

  So he, Cheyenne and the girls had moved in for now, but Tuf laid down some rules. His mother was not to be their maid. She would not cook for them, clean or pick up after them. So far it was working out.

  They had left the girls’ furniture at Buddy’s for when they visited. Cheyenne wanted the twins to have separate rooms, but so far that wasn’t working. They slept in Dinah’s old room. Cheyenne planned to do some redecorating after the first of the year, but now they intended to enjoy the holiday with the family.

  He flipped on the light and yanked the door wider. “What are you two doing?”

  The girls jumped back, their green eyes wide. “You scared us, Daddy,” Sammie said, and they flew into his arms. “It’s Christmas. It’s Christmas!”

  Cheyenne joined them in her green robe, yawning with a video camera in her hand. “What time is it?”

  “Five.”

  “Let’s go, Mommy. We have to see if Santa’s been here.” The girls darted down the stairs.

  “Wait a minute,” Cheyenne called. “We don’t want to wake Grandma Sarah.”

  They crept down the stairs through the foyer and started toward the great room when his mom and Buddy appeared from the kitchen.

  “Grandma Sarah’s awake,” Sadie shouted. “And Grandpa’s here, too.”

  “I wouldn’t miss my girls’ Christmas.” Buddy hugged his granddaughters.

  Tuf turned on the light, and the girls’ mouths formed big O’s at the brightly colored packages under the ten-foot spruce tree. Scents of pine, vanilla and cinnamon filled the room. A roaring fire in the fireplace enclosed them in cozy warmth. Snow silently fell outside the French doors.

  They sat on the sofa and watched as the girls tore into their gifts. Cheyenne filmed away, and they laughed at the girls’ excitement.

  Tuf scooted closer to his wife. “Happy?”

  “Yes.”

  He brushed her hair from her face. “I love you.”

  She nuzzled into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Mmm. I’ve never been this happy. Ever.”

  “Me, neither.” Whatever they had to face down the road, he knew they could handle it. Cheyenne now went with him to see the counselor so she could learn more about helping him. He didn’t have a problem with that. Admitting he needed help was his first step in healing. He hadn’t had any more nightmares, but if he did, he was prepared to handle that, too—with Cheyenne. He wasn’t afraid to go to sleep, either. Finally, he had found his peace with the woman of his dreams.

  It wasn’t long before the family started arriving. Joshua and Jordan arrived first, quickly followed by Dinah, Austin and Bre. The others slowly trickled in. Colt and Leah were last because they had to pick up Evan. Sarah and Cheyenne had made enough food to feed an army, and everyone thoroughly enjoyed it. They did the white-elephant gift exchange, which caused a lot of laughter and family rivalry. The kids exchanged gifts, and the adults sat back and enjoyed Sarah’s spicy cider.

  After they sang Christmas carols, Sarah got to her feet. “I don’t want to give a long speech, but I have to say how proud I am of all of you. We accomplished an awful lot this year, not because of one person, but because we worked together as a team, as a family. There were times we all wanted to kill that black stallion, but he came through for us. We have the PRCA horse of the year and NFR horse of the year. Midnight’s breeder fee has gone up. Not only that, Bushwhacker placed second at the NFR. Another great accomplishment. Our breeder program continues to improve with great stock that will become champions, especially Midnight Heir. Our program is now recognized by everyone in the country. The Harts of the rodeo are in business and out of debt.” She reached for some papers on the coffee table. “Thanks to everyone’s effort, our note is now paid in full.”

  “Hot damn,” Colt said. “A happy ending.”

  “It’s not an ending, son,” his mother told him. “As Tuf once said, it’s the beginning. We’re almost booked solid for next year, and we have a long list of owners wanting to breed their mares to Midnight.”

  “It’s all good news, Mom,” Ace said.

  “And the lease on the three thousand acres is up for renewal next year. I’ve decided to take our land back and to continue to build our bucking program. We will have plenty of room to do that.” She turned and tossed the papers into the fireplace. Everyone clapped.

  “I just want to say one more thing. I’m so happy my youngest is home safe. For eight years I went to bed every night wondering if I’d ever see my son again.” Her voice cracked.

  No, Mom. Don’t do this.

  He got to his feet but she waved him back. “Of all the accomplishments this year, Tuf’s happiness has been at the forefront of my mind. I’m so grateful he and Cheyenne have found each other. My heart is full. I love you all.” She reached for her glass on the coffee table. “Let’s make a toast.”

  Duke and Beau got to their feet. “I…” they said together and then stopped when they realized the other was speaking.

  “Go ahead,” Duke said.

  “No. You go ahead,” Beau replied.

  “We’ll have to flip a coin.” Colt intervened, digging in his pocket. “Man, this is reminiscent of our childhood. You two doing everything at the same time.” He flipped a quarter in the air. “Call it.”

  “Heads,” Duke said before Beau could.

  Colt looked at the coin on the floor. “Heads it is. Duke, what do you have to say?”

  “Can I tell, Daddy?” Luke asked.

  “Sure, son.” Angie curved into Duke’s side, and Duke had a hand on Luke’s shoulder.

  “I’m gonna get a little baby brother or sister,” Luke said, his little chest puffed out.

  Everyone jumped up in joy.

  “Wait a minute,” Beau said. “I didn’t get my chance.”

  Everyone sat down ag
ain.

  “Sierra and I are expecting, too.”

  “You’re kidding.” Colt started laughing loudly. “You guys synchronize everything.”

  “Behave,” Leah said.

  “Wait. Wait. Duke, when’s the baby due?” Colt asked.

  “August tenth.”

  “Beau?”

  “August eighth.”

  “This is hilarious.” Leah gave Colt a narrow-eyed glance and he added quickly, “But great.”

  Everyone hugged and added their congratulations to the two couples.

  “Jordan, we’re going to have two more grandbabies in August,” Uncle Josh declared, beaming from ear to ear.

  “Yes, and Sierra didn’t mention a word.”

  Sierra hugged her aunt. “We wanted to surprise you.”

  “You certainly did that.”

  “What a wonderful Christmas,” his mom said. “Any more exciting news?” She glanced around the room.

  “Don’t look at us, Mom,” Colt said. “We have four kids, and one of them has four legs.”

  “You’re hopeless.” Leah kissed Colt’s cheek.

  “Same goes for us.” Ace put his arm around Flynn. “We have one and that’s enough for now.”

  Dinah sat in Austin’s lap. “Our baby is finally sleeping through the night, so don’t even think of looking our way.”

  “And we just got married.” Tuf made that clear, but he couldn’t imagine anything making him happier than having a child with Cheyenne.

  “Get your glasses,” his mom said. “I want to make another toast.”

  When everyone had a glass, Sarah raised hers. “To wise decisions, Midnight and the rodeo. May the Harts and the Adamses continue to prosper and grow—as a family in Roundup, Montana.”

  Tuf wrapped his arm around Cheyenne and whispered, “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  At the love in her eyes, he knew he had what he’d been fighting for—freedom to live again with a girl he’d loved since he was a boy.

  He was finally home.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt of The Cowboy Soldier’s Sons by Tina Leonard!

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  Chapter One

  We are such stuff as dreams are made on.

  —Shakespeare’s The Tempest

  Shaman Phillips wasn’t expecting a blonde bombshell to show up at the front door of the Dark Diablo farmhouse, but one glance at her shapely legs, long silky hair and beautiful face made him believe tonight might be a lucky night for a lone wolf. “Hello,” he said. “Can I help you?”

  “Hi.”

  Shaman decided the voice of an angel went with her amazing looks. She was way out of his league—and yet even a man with scars liked to gaze at beautiful things.

  “I’m looking for Chelsea Myers.”

  “Ah. The Chelsea Myers who married my brother Gage in July. She’s Chelsea Phillips now.” Shaman leaned forward, out of the doorway, planting his well-worn boots on the porch. “They live at the Callahan place, Rancho Diablo, in Diablo.”

  The goddess stepped closer, her high fire-engine-red heels clicking on the wood porch. “My name is Tempest Thornbury. I met Chelsea and Cat in July, before I returned to Italy.” She held up a small Louis Vuitton bag, complete with tufts of tissue paper coming out the top. Shaman knew what Louis Vuitton was; his sister, Kendall, was a huge fan. “I brought this for Cat. Is there a possibility you could give it to her?”

  “Come on in,” Shaman said, tamping down the wolflike tendencies fighting inside him. “I’ll get their address and you can send it to her. It’d probably be quicker. I never know when I’ll see them, now that the school year has started.”

  Tempest smiled. “Thank you.”

  Shaman went to get the address, and she followed him into the house. He handed her a piece of paper. “Cat started school in the middle of August in Diablo. She’s real happy there.”

  “I’m so glad.”

  He decided his visitor was even more beautiful close up. The hot-red suit fit her curves to perfection. She didn’t wear a wedding ring or jewelry, just some gold hoop earrings that kissed her cheeks.

  “She’s a sweet girl,” Tempest added.

  Shaman nodded, suddenly uncomfortable and not sure why. His first thought was to seduce this angel—what man could resist?—but she was too perfect for him. How dumb was that?

  Ten years in the military, most of them spent in Iraq and Afghanistan, might have left him hungry for female companionship, but it had also left him with scars on his back, a chunk missing from his shoulder and a red slash across his sun-browned cheek. He was lucky those were his only visible scars. Many of his buddies hadn’t fared so well.

  A little less perfection in a woman would suit him better. “Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

  Tempest smiled and turned on her heel. “I was hoping to see Cat and Chelsea, but I suppose they won’t be back until the semester is over?”

  “Can’t say.” He wasn’t familiar with Cat’s routine. “Chelsea and Gage just announced that they’re expecting a baby, so I don’t know how often Chelsea will be out here.”

  Tempest glanced back at him, looking pleased. “That’s wonderful! I’m glad to hear it.” She opened the front door before he could do so. “I didn’t get your name?”

  “Shaman Phillips.” He held the door for her, and as she walked out, caught a tease of a light flowery perfume. “You staying in Tempest, Tempest?” He grinned. “I didn’t realize you were named after the town.”

  She leaned into him, catching him off guard. “It’s a stage name. My real name is Zola Cupertino.”

  His brain tried to process that information, along with the distracting fact that she was dangerously close to him. And he didn’t think it was an accident. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she—

  “Soldier...” Tempest murmured.

  “Yes, ma’am?” he said, out of habit. She must have seen his military bag, and his combat boots in the living room.

  “I just got off a plane from Italy,” she announced. “I wonder if you might be interested in taking me out to dinner?”

  He blinked. “Certainly,” he said, trying to be chivalrous and not sound as surprised as he was by her unexpected invitation.

  She smiled at him, a sweet, slow, sexy smile, her angelic eyes free of artifice, but holding a silent plea. Maybe he didn’t want to see it. But she was still standing oh-so-close to him, and the next thing he knew, he’d taken the statuesque blonde in his arms and was kissing her like a dying man.

  She kissed him back hungrily.

  “Wait a second,” Shaman said. He was a lucky guy, but not this lucky. Angels didn’t just drop from the sky into his hard-edged world. “How did you say you know Gage and Chelsea?”

  “Met them this summer. Don’t stop what you’re doing, soldier.”

  He kissed her again, his mind trying to find the hook in the sweet deal she seemed to be offering him. She could have any guy in the world. Why would she choose him, instead of running from the sight of his scar-streaked face?

  What the hell. A man didn’t get too many gifts in life, and if this angel wanted to fly into his arms, he needed to quit acting like a skittish horse. “Hey, you want that dinner or not?” he asked, giving her one last chance to back away.

  “Aft
er,” she murmured, melting into him.

  He carried her to his bedroom, taking his sweet time, being careful with the soft suit and delicate white camisole. Her bra and panties were angel-wing white and breathlessly lacy, the kind that didn’t do much for support but everything for a man’s libido. Keeping the lights low, he whispered to her in soothing tones, expecting at any moment for her to tell him she wanted out of his bed. But she let him do whatever he wanted to her, and she was sweet like he’d never tasted sweet before.

  And when he finally entered her, Shaman thought he’d died and gone to some magical place he’d never known existed. In all the dirty, lonely nights he’d been scared out of his wits—and he’d been plenty scared, tough guy or not—he’d fantasized about a woman. Any woman. A soft, sweet woman to take away the pain.

  This woman was a velvet-soft gift from the gods, and whatever he’d done to deserve this time with her, Shaman wanted the moment to last forever.

  Tempest cried his name, and he lost himself in her. She grabbed at his shoulders, and he didn’t even think about his wounds or his scars. He held her and kissed her, savoring her like a treasure.

  Then they slept—maybe for an hour; he wasn’t certain. A glance out the window showed a moon that was huge and high in the sky. Getting out of bed, he said, “Let me shower. I’ll take you for that dinner.”

  She smiled at him in the moonlight. “Thanks, soldier.”

  Afraid to keep the lady waiting, he took the world’s fastest shower, dressing like a madman. Yet he wasn’t all that surprised when he came out and all that was left on the bed was the little Louis Vuitton bag, and a note that read, “Just remembered I have a meeting in town. Rain check for the dinner? Tempest.”

  He grunted. She’d signed the note as if it was an autograph for a book or a photo. “A meeting,” he muttered. Shaman glanced at the note again, massively disappointed. Rain check.

  I’ll just bet.

  * * *

  “WHO IS HE?” Tempest asked her dearest friends, Shinny and Blanche Tuck, after they’d hugged each other. It was so good to be here, in the Ice Cream Shoppe where she’d spent so many happy hours. The couple had been parents of sorts, shepherding her through difficult times as a child. Shinny could always be counted on to give her one of his delicious “specials,” a frothy chocolate milkshake she’d adored as a kid. Now she knew he’d simply been trying to put meat on her scrawny bones, but back then she’d thought she was the luckiest girl in the world when he gave her the scrumptious treats.