Cowboy Lessons (Harlequin American Romance)

by Pamela Britton

  Amanda looked up. Her father stood holding the microphone, his hand waving as he caught sight of her looking up at him.

  “Unbelievable,” she said.

  “Go,” people were calling.

  Amanda went, slowly at first, someone coming forward to open the small gate near the center of the arena.

  “Unbelievable,” she said again, not even realizing she’d begun to cry again as Scott rode toward her, pulling his horse to a stop only when he was right in front of her. He lifted the face shield, and the sight of his green eyes, the sight of that small smile that tilted his lips and made his eyes crinkle at the corners had Amanda trying to swallow back a sob.

  “Hi, Amanda.”

  That was all he said. Such silly words, ones that she would remember for the rest of her life…ones with which she would regale her children, and then her grandchildren. But for now she looked up at him and said, “Scott Beringer, you are one crazy man.”

  “Crazy for you, Amanda Johnson…crazy for you.”

  That was when Amanda realized that it wasn’t some crazy dream. That he really was sitting atop a white horse, in what looked to be battle armor, while from the grandstands a band struck up a stirring rendition of “Cowboy, Take Me Away.”

  Unbelievable.

  Scott must have been practicing because how he dismounted wearing all that metal armor, she had no idea. But somehow he did it, sinking down on one knee once both feet hit the ground.

  One knee.

  “Oh, Scott.”

  He reached beneath his breastplate with a hand that was covered in a silver riding glove. Her laughter turned into a sob again when she saw the small black box he withdrew.

  He waved, and the crowd, the band and even the livestock went quiet as he said, “Amanda Johnson, I know we got off to a rocky start—”

  Amanda covered her mouth with a hand.

  “—I know you thought the two of us couldn’t possibly work things out. I blew it. Afraid to commit, just like you said.” He opened the box, where a diamond as big as her thumb winked up at her. “Afraid to commit until I met you.”

  He kneeled before her looking silly, ridiculous and more wonderful than she ever imagined. She had to all but curl her lips together to hold back her tears, as she heard him ask, “Will you marry me?”

  “You know I should tell you no just to teach you a lesson.”

  “What lesson?”

  “That you can’t convince me to marry you with a suit of armor and a white horse.”

  The sudden desperation in his eyes, the look of fear she glimpsed there made her heart flip in her chest.

  “What can I do to convince you?”

  “Kiss me,” she said softly. “Kiss me and never let me go, cowboy.”

  He stood with a squeak and a clatter that made Amanda laugh, and then he was kissing her and the crowd erupted into cheers as Scott used his hands to pull her up against him. And when he drew back a long while later, he said, “I take it that’s a yes?”

  “That depends,” she said softly.

  “On what?”

  “On whether or not you agree to put me first. I can’t live my life playing second string to a corporation.”

  “As for that—” he said, reaching beneath his breastplate again and revealing a manila envelope “—I have this to give to you.”

  She took the envelope, her hands shaking as she opened it, and when she did, she gasped yet again.

  Deed of Trust.

  Scott Beringer herein grants to Amanda Johnson that real property known as…

  “Oh, Scott,” she gasped, suddenly sobbing as he pulled her into his arms. “Does this mean—?”

  He nodded. “I promoted my right hand man to president seeing as how I won’t have time to run Global Dynamics anymore, not if we’re going to get your breeding farm off the ground.”

  Her breeding farm? What? She drew back in shock.

  “Your father told me,” he said gently, obviously reading the question in her eyes. “And I think it’s a great idea.” Then he smiled crookedly. “Will you let me help you?”

  She stared into his eyes, reading the seriousness there, knowing he was committing to her in a way he’d never committed to another person in his life. “Only if you’ll marry me first.”

  And then they laughed, the crowd still cheering, her father grinning at them from up in the booth, Chase and Stephanie smiling from the other side of the chutes. But in the arena, Scott and Amanda hardly noticed, they were too busy sealing their bargain with another kiss.

  Epilogue

  Ten months later

  “I can’t do it,” Scott cried as he raced out the door, hospital gown flaring at the back. “I just can’t do it.”

  “Scott,” Chase said, grabbing him by the gown’s tie strings on the way by. “Get a hold of yourself. It’s just a baby she’s having.”

  “Yeah,” Scott said as he came to an abrupt halt. “But have you seen a woman have a baby before?”

  “Scott,” Chase yelled, and when that didn’t work, he prepared to do what needed to be done, even though Chase’d always been told by his nana Rose never to hit a man with glasses. The slap rang out in the visiting room area with a snap that caused conversations to abruptly stop.

  It worked. The fear faded from Scott’s eyes. Not all of it, but enough. At least he wasn’t as white as the hospital’s walls and linoleum floors anymore. “Thanks,” Scott said, rubbing his right cheek.

  “Don’t thank me. Get back in there and watch your son being born.” A smile flickered on the edges of Chase’s lips as he tried not to laugh at the woebegone expression on the richest man in America’s face.

  “You’re right,” Scott said, straightening his glasses with his index finger. “I need to go back on…in,” he quickly corrected.

  Chase clutched Scott by the shoulders, turned him around, then gave him a shove toward the door. A second later, that door opened to emit Amanda’s exhausted huffing, the doctor’s calls to push and the Biddies murmurs of encouragement.

  “You think he’ll pass out?” Roy Johnson said from behind Chase as the gray door clicked closed with a sharp snick from its brushed aluminum handle and lock.

  “I doubt the Biddies will let him.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. Never met a bunch of bossier dames,” Roy Johnson said. “They’re constantly riding me about my health.”

  “It’s worked. You look better than I’ve ever seen you.”

  “Yeah, well, I wanted to be around to watch my grandchildren grow. ’Sides, I figured I owed it to Amanda to get my act together after all that’s happened.”

  Chase’s nod of approval stilled as the sound of Roy Johnson’s first grandchild rang out from the other side of the door. Actually, everything inside Chase quieted; he felt the oddest combination of awe and amazement as he listened to the exhausted cheers of those inside the room, felt, for just a moment, just the tiniest bit of envy.

  “Guess I have a grandson?” Roy said, and damn it, the old man’s eyes were misty.

  “Guess you do,” Chase answered, wiping at his own eyes. Furtively, of course.

  The door opened, and Scott emerged, his eyes wide behind his thick black glasses that were fogged as he said, “It’s a boy.”

  “Scott,” Chase said on a laugh. “We knew it would be a boy.”

  “Yeah, but you never know—”

  The door slammed closed. The two men started at it before erupting into chuckles.

  But an hour later, Chase got to see for himself that it was, indeed, a boy.

  “Thanks,” Scott said softly as he gingerly handed the newborn to Chase. “For you-know-what earlier.”

  “No problem,” Chase said, taking the boy, then studying what must be the world’s tiniest hands—and even more amazingly—fingernails. “Wow.”

  “If there’s ever anything I can do for you…” Scott let the words hang.

  Chase didn’t look up as he said, “Actually, there is.” The two men’
s gazes met over the sweet-smelling form of a sleeping child with an amazing amount of red hair. “My nana Rose died a few months back.”

  Scott’s look asked, “Yeah?”

  “Well, it seems she left me quite a few shares in a company you might have heard of.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Global Dynamics.”

  Chase had the rum-eyed pleasure of watching Scott Beringer’s eyes bulge. And he knew the exact moment when he put the two names together, too.

  “Rose Cavanaugh was your nana Rose?”

  “Guess you’ve heard of her?”

  “How could I not have heard of one of our biggest shareholders? I’d heard she died, but—” And then Scott’s eyes widened again. “Do you have any idea how much that stock is worth? It’s split ten times since she first invested.”

  “Few million, the attorney told me.”

  “Unbelievable,” Scott said, sitting back in his chair. “You’re a rich man, Chase Cavanaugh.”

  “So I hear.”

  “Any idea what you’re going to do with the money?”

  “Not a clue.”

  “Spend it,” a sleepy voice said from the bed. Both men turned to look at a doe-eyed Amanda, the baby stirring in his sleep as if he’d recognized his mama had spoken.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” Scott said tenderly.

  Chase hung back, not wanting to interfere with the tender moment. As he watched Scott gently wipe away a lock of Amanda’s long red hair, envy filled him again. Envy and happiness for his friends, and a whole host of other emotions he wasn’t quite sure what to do with.

  “Hey, Chase,” Amanda said, meeting his gaze. “I see you’ve met our son.”

  “He’s beautiful, Amanda,” Chase said as he gently handed him to her.

  “No, Chase, he’s handsome.” She looked up at Scott, smiling as she said, “Just like my husband, even though he’s got some sort of red mark on his face. What the heck happened?”

  Scott and Chase looked at each other, then they both burst out laughing, Amanda staring between them both like they’d gone crazy.

  “See, your husband here—”

  And when he finished there was laughter all around, a laughter that filled the room and the lives of all who witnessed it, and that never seemed to fade from the Beringer household, because it was a laughter born of happiness…and love.

  ISBN: 978-1-4603-6878-7

  COWBOY LESSONS

  Copyright © 2003 by Pamela Britton.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

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