A Bull Rider's Pride

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A Bull Rider's Pride Page 17

by Amanda Renee


  Brady studied her in the setting sun. There was more to the story and he hadn’t ridden all the way over just to be dismissed. Brady draped an arm around Blue’s neck and whispered into his ear. “I think she’s still into me. What do you think?” The mule snorted. “Thanks a lot, bud.” Brady patted the mule’s withers. “I could have ridden one of my own horses over here, but I chose Blue for a reason. Mules have a long symbolic history. Some say that they represent the most stubborn and inflexible of creatures. I can relate to that. Others say if you dream about them, you’re working through a problem in a relationship.”

  “We don’t have a relationship, Brady.” Sheila folded her arms.

  “I don’t agree. I believe we have a very complicated relationship. But maybe this will change your mind.” Brady looked Blue in the eyes. “Let me show you how it’s done.” He knelt on one knee before her, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. “I know that you still want to strangle me, but I love you, Sheila Lindstrom. You drive me crazy and sober me up all in the same breath. I’ve tried living without you and the sun doesn’t shine as bright. I don’t want to ruin your career, but if you’re willing to accept me as I am, bull riding and all, I’m willing to wait as long as it takes for you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

  Sheila covered her face with her hands. Brady didn’t know whether she was happy or upset with him. She held out her hands to him, urging him to rise. “I never should have asked you to give up your hopes and dreams for me. I love you too much to ever do that to you again. I was the one who was stubborn as a mule. I allowed my fears to get in the way.”

  Brady lifted her chin with his finger, realizing for the first time how much his hands were shaking. “I want a life with you and my son. If I’ve learned anything over the past few months, it’s that life is precious. We’ve wasted so much time apart, I don’t want to spend another day without you. So what do you say...will you marry me?”

  “Brady I would be honored to share the rest of my life with you.”

  She lifted her mouth to his, and their lips brushed. He’d dreamed of kissing her again since the night they’d spent in each other’s arms. No amount of physical recovery compared to the way she made him feel. It had been a long year, but it was finally coming together.

  * * *

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING Sheila knocked on Dr. Mangone’s office door.

  “Do you have a minute?”

  Dr. Mangone hung his head and sighed. “What is it, Dr. Lindstrom?”

  She closed the door behind her and approached his desk.

  “What is the policy for marrying former patients?” She sucked her lips inward.

  Dr. Mangone tossed his pen and glasses onto the desk. “Two months ago you wanted nothing to do with Brady Sawyer—we are talking about Brady Sawyer, right?”

  “Of course we are.” Sheila frowned. It’s wasn’t like she’d made a habit out of dating her patients.

  “Sheila, you were always my rock. The one I could count on to play by the rules and never give me any trouble. Now you give me heartburn.” He poked at his chest.

  “Definitely not my intention.” Sheila tucked her hair behind her ears and sat on the edge of the chair. “We can wait to get married however long the hospital feels is appropriate. But we would really like to get married on Thanksgiving Eve if it’s approved.” Sheila clasped her hands in front of her face. “Please approve it.”

  Dr. Mangone pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know that’s not my decision. I will bring it to the chief and the hospital board since a wedding would make your relationship public. You know that very thing I asked you not to do? You went and did it. Hopefully if I explain the entire situation they will overlook your indiscretion, but I can’t promise anything.” He opened his desk drawer and rummaged through it. “Where are my antacids?”

  “When do you think you might—”

  “Out!” Dr. Mangone ordered. “I will let you know when I know. Now go.”

  Sheila ran to the door before he changed his mind. “Thank you!”

  “Sheila!”

  “Sir?” She turned to face him.

  “You better invite me to the wedding.”

  “Of course.” She closed the door behind her and jumped up and down. It was happening. She was really marrying Brady Sawyer.

  * * *

  A WEEK LATER Brady knocked on Gunner’s open bedroom door. “Hey, champ. Come on out here. Your mom and I need to talk to you about something.”

  Alice and Brady had decided to break the news to Gunner at her apartment. Since Sheila had severed the doctor-patient relationship months prior to their engagement, the hospital board was willing to overlook any perceived indiscretion, providing they were all invited to the wedding.

  “Am I in trouble?” Gunner asked.

  “Of course not, honey,” Alice said. “Your dad and I need to talk to you about our expanding family.”

  “Am I getting a brother or sister?” Gunner’s eyes grew large with excitement.

  “No, champ, no brother or sister. At least not yet.” Brady lifted him onto his lap. “How would you feel about Sheila joining our family?”

  “You mean Doc?”

  Brady laughed. “Yes, I mean Doc. Would you be all right with Daddy marrying her?”

  “I like her. She gives me cookies and takes me to see fireworks.”

  “Oh, that’s the secret to your heart. Cookies and explosives.” Alice tickled his belly.

  “And what about you?” Brady asked Alice. He wouldn’t feel comfortable bringing another woman into Gunner’s life without her blessing. “You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember. Are you okay with this wedding?”

  Alice rested her head on Brady’s shoulder. “Of course I am. I’m flattered that you asked my opinion, though. I think you two make a great couple and I want you to be happy.”

  “Then I have a wedding to plan.” Brady gave them both a family-size hug. “Why don’t I start right now with you two? Gunner, how do you feel about being our ring bearer? All you need to do is hold on to the wedding rings. Can you do that?”

  Gunner nodded eagerly.

  “What about you, Alice?”

  “What about me?” She furrowed her brow.

  Brady adored the look of confusion across her face. “How would you like to be my best woman?” he asked.

  “You mean stand up for you? How would Sheila feel about that?”

  “We’ve already discussed it and she’s fine with it.” Brady wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You’ve always been a part of my family, Alice. I’d like you to be a part of my wedding too. It would mean a lot to me.”

  “Does that mean I get to plan a bachelor party?” She playfully jabbed him with her elbow.

  “On second thought...”

  She punched his arm. “Hey, now.”

  Brady kissed the top of her head. “Will you do it?”

  “I’d be honored to be your best woman.”

  Their little family unit was far from conventional, but it worked. If he was asked, he’d be honored to return the favor and stand up for Alice when she found her Mr. Right.

  “That’s all I need—my two besties standing up there with me.”

  Epilogue

  A month and a half later, on Thanksgiving Eve, Sheila stood at the entrance of the church in a sleeveless white lace and satin wedding gown. She’d never considered herself traditional, but she’d always dreamed of a country church wedding.

  The doors opened wide as the wedding march began to play. Steadying her nerves, she slid her hand into the crook of her father’s arm as he led her down the aisle. Brady stood at the altar with Alice and Gunner. She counted each step in her head, willing herself not to cry until after the ceremony. If anyone had told Sheila she would marr
y a man who had once lain on her operating table, she would have admitted them for head trauma.

  It had been three and a half months since Brady had last used his cane. He’d accomplished everything he’d set out to do and then some. She couldn’t have been more proud of the man standing before her. Her father gave her a kiss on the cheek and shook Brady’s hand. She handed her bouquet to Gracie—her matron of honor—and joined hands with Brady.

  The butterflies had settled. She had no reason for nerves any longer.

  This is it. This is our moment.

  “Dearly beloved,” the preacher began. “Sometimes people come into our lives at the most unexpected times, as did Brady when he ended up in Sheila’s emergency room. And in his hour of need, she became his angel of mercy, along with the rest of her trauma team at the hospital. Brady and Sheila’s love survived against all odds. They had everything stacked against them from the beginning. But they survived to stand here before you and before God to be joined together in holy matrimony.”

  Brady lightly squeezed her hand, causing a slight shiver of anticipation to travel up her spine.

  “Sheila Lindstrom, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, and especially in Brady’s case, to bandage him up whenever the need may arise for as long as you both shall live?” Hushed laughter spread throughout the congregation.

  “I do.”

  “And do you, Brady Sawyer, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health and, for the love of all things holy, to stay out of her operating room for as long as you both shall live?”

  “I don’t know if I can promise that last part,” Brady teased.

  Sheila squeezed his hand tighter. “You just remember, I put you back together, so I know how to take you apart.”

  “I do, I do.” Brady eagerly agreed. “Can I kiss her now?”

  “Keep your britches on,” the preacher scolded. “A wedding takes more than eight seconds.” After exchanging rings with Gunner’s assistance, the preacher continued. “By the power vested in me by the state of Texas, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

  Seven and a half months ago, Sheila had fought to save Brady’s life. Today he completed hers. He had taught her how to love and experience passion so intensely she couldn’t imagine a world without him in it. She’d done everything she’d said she wouldn’t—she’d married her bull riding patient and become a stepmother. But she wouldn’t change a thing. She smiled up at her husband as his lips joined hers. After all, what was eight seconds here and there in exchange for a lifetime of happiness?

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from TEXAS REBELS: PHOENIX by Linda Warren.

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  SHEILA’S SUGAR COOKIE RECIPE

  Ingredients:

  1 pound unsalted butter, softened

  4 cups white granulated sugar

  4 large eggs

  2 tablespoons almond extract

  1 teaspoon baking powder

  8 cups all-purpose flour

  Directions:

  Cream butter, sugar, eggs and almond extract together with a mixer. Add baking powder and blend well. Gradually incorporate flour, one cup at a time, into the sugar mixture until the dough forms large pea-sized pieces or until you’ve added 7 cups of flour. Press dough into a ball with your hands. If the dough sticks to your fingers, continue adding remaining flour, one tablespoon at a time until the ball is soft and is no longer sticky. Wrap tightly in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 1 hour.

  Remove cookie dough from the refrigerator and divide into four equal portions. Sprinkle pastry board or a clean countertop with flour and roll dough to a ¼-inch thickness.

  Cut cookie shapes with desired cookie cutters and place on a parchment-paper-lined cookie sheet. Once you have formed a complete layer, add another sheet of parchment paper and continue layering your cookies. When you’ve reached 5 layers, start a new cookie sheet.

  Freeze unbaked cookies for a minimum of 30 minutes, but preferably overnight for more intricate designs. Freezing helps the cookies retain their shape.

  Preheat oven to 350˚F.

  Bake cookies in a single layer on parchment-lined cookie sheets, leaving at least a ½ inch of space between cookies. Baking times will vary from 10 to 14 minutes, depending on the size of your cookies. Cookies should be a pale golden color when ready. Do not allow them to brown.

  Note:

  This recipe can be halved easily. You can change the flavor of your cookies by changing your extract flavor. If using peppermint extract, use slightly less. Yielded number of cookies will vary depending on the size and thickness of your cookies.

  SHEILA’S ROYAL ICING RECIPE

  Ingredients:

  8 tablespoons water

  3 tablespoons meringue powder

  2 pounds powdered sugar

  Gel food coloring in various colors

  Lemon juice

  Directions:

  Add water to bowl. Stir in meringue powder. Add two cups of powdered sugar and mix with a mixer on low. Continue to add more sugar, 1 cup at a time until consistency is very thick and holds its shape. Do not overmix. You want the icing to be stiff, not whipped.

  Spoon out desired amount into a separate bowl and gradually incorporate the gel food coloring until the desired color is reached. Add 5 to 10 drops of lemon juice to thin the icing. You’ll know the consistency is right when you drag a knife through the icing and it heals itself in less than 7 seconds. Spoon icing into pastry bag and begin decorating.

  Notes:

  Sheila recommends pastry tip size #2 for piping the outline of the cookie and for flooding the outlined area with icing. The amount of moisture in the air will widely affect the amount of powdered sugar and lemon juice needed for each batch of icing. Always perform the knife test.

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  Texas Rebels: Phoenix

  by Linda Warren

  Prologue

  My name is Kate Rebel. I married John Rebel when I was eighteen years old and then bore him seven sons. We worked the family ranch,
which John later inherited. We put everything we had into buying more land so our sons would have a legacy. We didn’t have much, but we had love.

  The McCray Ranch borders Rebel Ranch on the east and the McCrays have forever been a thorn in my family’s side. They’ve cut our fences, dammed up creeks to limit our water supply and shot one of our prize bulls. Ezra McCray threatened to shoot our sons if he caught them jumping his fences again. We tried to keep our boys away, but they are boys—young and wild.

  One day Jude and Phoenix, two of our youngest, were out riding together. When John heard shots, he immediately went to find his boys. They lay on the ground, blood oozing from their heads. Ezra McCray was astride a horse twenty yards away with a rifle in his hand. John drew his gun and fired, killing Ezra instantly. Both boys survived with only minor wounds. Since my husband was protecting his children, he didn’t spend even one night in jail. This escalated the feud that still goes on today.

  The man I knew as my husband died that day. He couldn’t live with what he’d done and started to drink heavily. I had to take over the ranch and the raising of our boys. John died ten years later. We’ve all been affected by the tragedy, especially my sons.

  They are grown men now and deal in different ways with the pain of losing their father. One day I pray my boys will be able to put this behind them and live healthy, normal lives with women who will love them the way I loved their father.

  Chapter One

  Phoenix: the youngest son—the fun-loving one.

  The cowboy’s last ride.

  Phoenix Rebel had been called a lot of things, but he’d never been called daddy. Yet the lady sitting on his mother’s leather sectional with the grim reaper-like expression and thick wire-rimmed glasses seemed determined to pin that label on him.

  He scooted forward in his chair, trying to pay attention and look like a mature adult because his mother was sitting right there staring at him. If there was anything he hated, it was having to account to his mother for his misdeeds.

 

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