Montana Hearts: Her Weekend Wrangler
Page 23
His son looked up at him and held his gaze. “Because we don’t have Bree.”
BREE’S CELL PHONE buzzed, alerting her she’d received a text. She glanced at the screen.
Sammy Jo. Did you see the video Rebecca sent Del?
She texted back. No.
A moment later, Sammy Jo forwarded it to her, and she pushed play. The first thing she saw was a fist coming straight toward her. Then the angle of the video shifted, flashed across Mr. Owens’s face, and Ryan went down.
Bree winced. Ooooh! That didn’t look good. But Ryan hadn’t been looking at him. Hadn’t been ready. He’d glanced at . . . Cody.
The film shook up and down as if someone had been running. Mr. Owens’s face came into view again. Then a blinding flash that made the screen go white. Another camera.
Bree strained to see what came next. More bobbling of the film back and forth, a lot of screaming, static, and commotion, as if the person filming went this way and that. Then a clear shot of Ryan punching Mr. Owens and . . . ooooh! . . . the mare clamping down on the older man with her teeth!
Sammy Jo texted again. What did you think?
Bree smirked as she texted Sammy Jo a reply. Looks like Ryan’s man-hating mare is going to need a little more work.
Then as she walked out the door of her house, she realized how wrong she’d been to let her fear of being hurt overshadow the truth. Ryan was a charmer, but he was also a man of his word. If nothing else, she could trust in that.
The sound of a truck rumbled up her driveway, and when she turned, she saw the Triple T emblem and that the vehicle pulled a horse trailer behind it. They were here. The truck stopped, and as soon as Ryan and Cody got out, a surge of excitement coursed through her at the sight of them.
“What’s this?” she asked, smiling as she pointed to the trailer.
Cody grinned. “We brought over your mare and filly.”
“Both?” She glanced at Ryan. “I thought your aunt was only giving me the filly.”
He gave her a direct look. “They’ve come a long way, but I don’t think they’re ready to be separated from each other just yet, do you?”
“No.” She stepped toward him and touched a finger to the dark bruise on his jaw. “Ryan, I know Mr. Owens set you up with the newspaper photo. I believe you were telling me the truth.”
He drew her hand away from his face and kissed it. “Then believe me when I say . . . I don’t want you to leave.”
“You aren’t going to New York, are you?” Cody demanded.
Bree smiled again and shook her head. “No, of course not. I told you I’d stay.”
Cody ran forward and hugged her. “See, Dad? Told you. She’s not going anywhere. You were wrong.”
“And I am so glad.” Ryan held her gaze, his expression soft. “I want us to be together, Bree.”
“Me, too.” But it had to be for the right reasons. “I do care for you and Cody,” she said, the back of her throat aching. “More than anything. And I trust you. I do. But . . . how will I really ever know I’m not just another girl to you?”
He flashed her that charming, mischievous grin that always set her heart aflutter. “Marry me.”
“What?” She stared at him, felt the ground tilt, and put a hand against his arm to steady herself. Did he just say what she thought she heard him say?
Ryan motioned to Cody, who smiled at her, his eyes sparkling like his father’s as he ran back to the truck and retrieved a bouquet of flowers. Cream-colored roses, like the bouquet Ryan had handed her on her first day back in town.
Then Ryan tipped his hat back on his head, and when he got down on one knee her heart thundered in her chest.
“Brianna Collins,” he said, taking her hand in his again and gazing up at her. “I love you. Not any of those other women, but you. Only you.”
She nearly burst with happiness as she imagined herself as Ryan’s wife. Cody’s mom. The three of them together as a real family.
Then she hesitated, afraid she must be dreaming.
“C’mon,” Bree choked out. “You don’t really mean it.”
He gave her hand a squeeze. “I do.”
She looked into his eyes and saw that he was serious!
The expression of pure adoration on his face left her breathless as Ryan rose to his feet. Then he drew her into his arms, and swung her down into a playful dip like he’d done the night of the dance.
“How else can I convince you?” he whispered.
She smiled, already knowing the answer. “Kiss me?”
“Darlin’,” he said, breaking into a wide grin that promised she was about to receive the best kiss of her entire life, “all you had to do was ask.”
Acknowledgments
I WOULD LIKE to thank my agent, Nicole; my editors May, Chelsey, and Elle; and all the wonderful people I work with at Avon Impulse who help put this book together. I thank God, with whom all things are possible. And I thank my friends, fellow writers, critique partners, my husband, children, and especially my tech-savvy daughter, Samantha. I value your support more than you know.
About the Author
DARLENE PANZERA writes sweet, fun-loving romance, and is a member of Romance Writers of America and the Northwest Christian Writers. Her career launched when her novella “The Bet” was picked by Avon Books and New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber to be published within Debbie’s own novel, Family Affair. Darlene says, “I love writing stories that help inspire people to laugh, value relationships, and pursue their dreams.”
Born and raised in New Jersey, Darlene is now a resident of the Pacific Northwest, where she lives with her husband and three children. When not writing she enjoys spending time with her family and her horse, and loves camping, hiking, photography, and lazy days at the lake.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
By Darlene Panzera
The Montana Hearts series
Montana Hearts: Her Weekend Wrangler
The Cupcake Diaries series
The Cupcake Diaries: Sweet On You
The Cupcake Diaries: Recipe for Love
The Cupcake Diaries: Taste of Romance
The Cupcake Diaries: Spoonful of Christmas
The Cupcake Diaries: Sprinkled with Kisses
Other Novels
Bet You’ll Marry Me
Give in to your Impulses . . .
Continue reading for excerpts from
our newest Avon Impulse books.
Available now wherever e-books are sold.
THE BRIDE WORE RED BOOTS
A SEVEN BRIDES FOR SEVEN COWBOYS NOVEL
By Lizbeth Selvig
RESCUED BY THE RANGER
By Dixie Lee Brown
ONE SCANDALOUS KISS
AN ACCIDENTAL HEIRS NOVEL
By Christy Carlyle
DIRTY TALK
A MECHANICS OF LOVE NOVEL
By Megan Erickson
An Excerpt from
THE BRIDE WORE RED BOOTS
A Seven Brides for Seven Cowboys Novel
by Lizbeth Selvig
Amelia Crockett’s life was going exactly the way she had always planned—until one day, it wasn’t.
When Mia’s career plans are shattered, the always-in-control surgeon has no choice but to head home to Paradise Ranch and her five younger sisters, cowboy boots in tow, to figure out how to get her life back on track. The appearance of a frustrating, but oh-so-sexy, former soldier, however, turns into exactly the kind of distraction she can’t afford.
He studied her as if assessing how blunt he could be. With a wry little lift of his lip, he closed his eyes and lay all the way back onto the blanket, hands behind his head. “Honestly? You were just so much fun to get a rise out of. You’d turn all hot under the collar, lik
e you couldn’t figure out how anyone could dare counter you—the big-city doc coming to Hicksville with the answers.”
The teasing tone of his voice was clear, but the words stung nonetheless. Funny. They wouldn’t have bothered her at all a week ago, she thought. Now it hurt that he would ever think of her that way. She hadn’t been that awful—she’d only wanted to put order to the chaos and bring a little rationality to the haywire emotions after her mother and sister’s awful accident.
“Hey.” She turned at the sound of his voice to find him sitting upright beside her again. “Amelia, I know better now. I know you. I’m not judging you—then or now.”
Pricks of miniscule teardrops stung her eyes, the result of extreme embarrassment—and profound relief. She had no idea what to make of the reaction. It was neither logical nor something she ever remembered experiencing.
“I know.”
To her horror, the roughness of her emotions shone through her voice, and Gabriel peered at her, his face a study in surprise. “Are you crying? Amelia, I’m sorry—I was just giving you grief, I wasn’t—”
“I’m not crying.” Her insistence held no power even though it wasn’t a lie. No water fell from her eyes; it just welled behind the lids. “I’m not upset. I’m . . . relieved. I . . . it was nice, what you . . . said.” She clamped her mouth closed before something truly stupid emerged and looked down at the blanket, picking at a pill in the wool’s plaid pile.
A touch beneath her chin drew her gaze back up. Gabriel’s eyes were mere inches from hers, shining with that beautiful caramel brown that suddenly looked like it could liquefy into pure sweetness and sex. Every masculine pore of his skin caught her attention and made her fingers itch to stroke the texture of his cheek. The scent of wind-blown skin and chocolate tantalized her.
“Don’t be anything but what and who you are, Amelia Crockett.”
His kiss brushed her mouth with the weightlessness of a Monarch on a flower petal. Soft, ethereal, tender, it promised nothing but a taste of pleasure and asked for nothing in return. Yet, as subtle as it was, it drove a punch of desire deep into Mia’s core and then set her stomach fluttering with anticipation.
He pulled back but his fingers remained on her chin. “I’m sorry. That was probably uncalled for.”
When his fingers, too, began to slide from her skin, she reacted without thinking and grabbed his hand. “No. It’s . . . It was . . . Gah—” Frustrated by her constant, unfamiliar loss for words, she leaned forward rather than let mortification set in and pressed a kiss against his lips this time, foregoing light and airy for the chance to taste him fully. Beneath the pressure, his lips curved into a smile. She couldn’t help it then, her mouth mimicked his and they clashed in a gentle tangle of lips, teeth, and soft, surprised chuckles.
“Crazy,” he said in a whisper, as he encircled her shoulders and pulled her closer.
“Yeah,” she agreed and opened her mouth to invite his tongue to meet hers.
First kisses in Mia’s experience were usually fraught with uncertainty and awkwardness about what should come next, but not this one. Kissing Gabriel seemed as natural and pleasurable as walking along a stunning stream full of rapids and eddies and satisfying things to explore. She explored them all and let him taste and enjoy right back. When at last they let each other go, her head continued to spin with surprise, and every nerve ending sparkled with desire.
An Excerpt from
RESCUED BY THE RANGER
by Dixie Lee Brown
Army Ranger Garrett Harding is new in town—but not necessarily welcome. The only thing Rachel Maguire wants is to send this muscled military man packing. But when the stalker who destroyed her life ten years ago reappears, Rachel hits the road hoping to lure danger away from those she loves. Garrett won’t let this sexy spitfire face trouble alone. He’ll do anything to protect her. Even if it means risking his life—and his heart.
Pressed tight to the wall, Garrett waited. As she burst from cover, looking over her right shoulder and away from him, he stepped toward her. Catching her around the middle, he swung her off her feet and up against his body, holding her tightly with both arms. “It’s me, Rach. Take it easy. I just want to talk.”
She stopped struggling, so he loosened his hold as he set her back on her feet. Mistake number one. She dug her fingernails into his forearm, scratching until she drew blood. As soon as he leaned over her shoulder to grab her hand, she whacked his jaw with the back of her head, hard enough to send him stumbling back a step. He shook his head to clear the stars in time to see her swing that black bag.
“Wait a minute, Rachel!” Garrett tried to duck, but her shorter height gave her the advantage. She caught him across the side of the head, and there was apparently something heavy and damn hard in her bag. He staggered, lost his balance, and went down.
She looked surprised for a second before determination steeled her expression. “I told you not to look for me. What didn’t you understand about that?” Shifting her bag onto her shoulder, she turned, and started running down the alley.
“Well, shit.” Garrett glanced at Cowboy and damned if it didn’t look like he was laughing. “Okay, already. You were right. Saddle up, Cowboy.”
The dog took off, his long strides closing the distance to Rachel’s retreating back easily. Garrett stood, brushing the dirt off and taking a moment to stretch the ache from the wound in his back. Then he jogged after the girl and the dog. He’d seriously underestimated Rachel today. Cowboy had his instructions to stop her, but keeping her there would require a whole different set of commands—ones that Garrett would never utter where Rachel was concerned.
Ahead of him, the dog ran circles around her, making the circle smaller each time. When she finally stopped, keeping a wary eye on the animal, Cowboy dropped to a walk, his tail wagging as he angled toward her. Though she didn’t move, her body, tense and ready, said she was on high alert. Garrett picked up his pace to reach them.
Rachel looked over her shoulder, obviously noted the diminishing distance between them, and grabbed for her satchel. The next thing he knew, the damn hard object she’d hit him with—a small revolver—was in her hand and she was pointing it at Cowboy.
“You need to stay where you are, Garrett, and call your dog or . . . I’ll shoot him.”
“Cowboy, chill.” The dog dropped to the ground, watching Garrett carefully. “This is what it’s come to then? You want to get away from me so bad you’re willing to shoot my dog?”
She shook her head dejectedly. “That’s not what I want, but I will if I have to.”
“I don’t believe you, Rach. That dog’s just following orders. My orders. Shoot me if you want to hurt somebody.” Garrett moved a few steps closer.
Rachel laughed scornfully. “Did you miss the part where I tried to leave without anybody getting hurt?”
“No. I get that you’re worried about Peg, Jonathan, and the rest of the people at the lodge, but damn it, Rachel, they love you. They want to understand. They want to help if they can, because that’s what people do when they love someone. They don’t sneak off in the night, leaving their family to wonder what happened.”
“I can’t—” She lowered the weapon until her hand hung at her side. Her eyes closed for a second, then she sat abruptly amidst the grass that bordered the alley.
Garrett walked up to her and knelt down. Prying the gun from her fingers, he placed it back in her bag and zipped it up. “Yes, you can. I’ll help you.” He tilted her chin up so he could see the sheen of her expressive green eyes. “Give me a chance, Rachel. What have you got to lose?”
An Excerpt from
ONE SCANDALOUS KISS
An Accidental Heirs Novel
by Christy Carlyle
When a desperate Jessamin Wright bursts into an aristocratic party and shocks the entire ton, she believes it’s the only way to save her failing bookstore. The challenge sounded easy when issued, but the one thing she never ex
pected was to enjoy the outrageous embrace she shares with a serious viscount.
For the hundredth time, Jess called herself a fool for agreeing to Kitty Adderly’s ridiculous plan for revenge against Viscount Grimsby. Kissing a viscount for one hundred pounds sounded questionable at the time Kitty had suggested it. Now Jess thought perhaps the jilted heiress had put something in her tea.
Initially she made her way into the crowded art gallery unnoticed, but then a woman dripping in diamonds and green silk had questioned her. When the lady’s round husband stepped in, it all turned to chaos before she’d even done what she’d come to do. The deed itself shouldn’t take long. A quick peck on the mouth—Kitty had insisted that she kiss the man on the lips—and it would all be over. She’d already handed the money over to Mr. Briggs at the bank. Turning back now simply wasn’t an option.
She recognized Lord Grimsby from the gossip rag Kitty had shown her. The newspaper etching hadn’t done him justice. In it, he’d been portrayed as dark and forbidding, his mouth a sharp slash, his black brows so large they overtook his eyes, and his long Roman nose dominating an altogether unappealing face. But in the flesh every part of his appearance harmonized into a striking whole. He was the sort of man she would have noticed in a crowd, even if she hadn’t been seeking him, intent on causing him scandal and taking unimaginable liberties with his person.
He was there at the end of the gallery, as far from the entrance as he could possibly be. Jess continued through the gamut and a man snatched at her arm. Unthinking, she stepped on his foot, and he spluttered and cursed but released her.
Lord Grimsby saw her now. She noticed his dark head—and far too many others—turned her way. He was tall and broad shouldered, towering over the man and woman beside him. And he did look grim, as cold and disagreeable as Kitty had described.