Cowboy Brave
The Happy, Texas, Series
Toughest Cowboy in Texas
Long, Tall Cowboy Christmas
Luckiest Cowboy of All
The Lucky Penny Ranch Series
Wild Cowboy Ways
Hot Cowboy Nights
Merry Cowboy Christmas
Wicked Cowboy Charm
About the Author
Carolyn Brown is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling romance author and RITA® Finalist who has sold more than 5 million books. She presently writes both women’s fiction and cowboy romance. She has also written historical single title, historical series, contemporary single title, and contemporary series. She lives in southern Oklahoma with her husband, a former English teacher, who is not allowed to read her books until they are published. They have three children and enough grandchildren to keep them young. For a complete listing of her books (series in order) and to sign up for her newsletter, check out her website at www.carolynbrownbooks.com or catch her on Facebook/CarolynBrownBooks.
Keep reading for a preview of
CHRISTMAS WITH A COWBOY
Coming September 2019
Chapter One
Maverick Callahan was singing “Jingle Bells” when he opened the door to the bunkhouse, but the singing stopped the minute that he realized the lights were already on and the place was warm. The black hair on his neck stood straight up, giving testimony that there was someone there. Chills chased down his spine, and his feet were glued to the floor. For a moment everything was so quiet that it hurt his ears. Then he heard someone humming “Tulle Rose,” an Irish lullaby his grandmother used to sing to him and Paxton.
“Hello?” His voice came out raspy and barely a whisper. In a few long strides, he crossed the floor and peeked around the corner to find a woman with long red hair sitting in a rocking chair with a baby in her arms.
“Bridget?” he whispered.
“Sweet Jesus. I wasn’t expectin’ to see you until tomorrow,” she muttered when she turned. Her Irish lilt was even more pronounced than he remembered.
Her mossy green eyes looked up at him as if she wasn’t even surprised to see him. Then she eased out of the chair and carried the baby to a crib across the room.
“What? How? Why?” His eyes darted back and forth from the crib to Bridget.
“I might be askin’ you the same things.” She popped her hands on her hips. “Like how could you break my heart like you did? Why did you leave without saying goodbye? And what were you thinking?”
He leaned against the doorjamb and tried to get his bearings. When he’d left Ireland a year ago, he thought he’d never see Bridget again. What in the world was she doing in Texas? He wanted to take a closer look at the baby, but his boots felt like they were filled with concrete.
“I tried to call when I got back to Texas,” he said.
“I changed my number,” she admitted.
He folded his arms over his chest. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I was angry with you, and I still am. I’m here to get over you, Maverick Callahan, and the sooner the better,” she said. “My nana got very sick and her best friend, your grandmother, came to be with her those last days.” She wiped a tear away with the back of her hand.
“They knew each other?” Maverick raised an eyebrow. He wanted to take her into his arms.
“It was a surprise to me, too.” She sat down on the edge of the bed. “But I’m here, and I’m on a mission, so…” She shrugged. “And your grandmother is here, too.”
“Mam is here? What’s she doing here?” Maverick asked.
“She wanted to surprise you and Paxton.” Bridget sat down on the edge of the bed.
Maverick’s phone dinged, and he pulled it from his jacket pocket to find a message from his brother, telling him to put down his paintbrushes and come to the ranch house for a big surprise. Well, guess what? The bigger surprise was in the bunkhouse.
“How did…” he started.
She put up a palm. “We flew from Ireland together and she helped me with the baby on the trip.”
His mind whirled in circles. He’d never stopped thinking about Bridget or the amazing romance that he knew from the beginning could only last the few weeks he was in Ireland. He’d thought that he could come home to Texas, go right back to his old ways and move on, but he couldn’t. Every single moment he’d spent with her was like a chapter in a book that had already been written, could never be erased, and he kept reading it over and over again.
He couldn’t blame her, not after the way he’d left without even telling her goodbye. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “But…” He glanced toward the crib where the baby slept. “Is that…” His heartbeats pounded in his ears. Had those glorious nights in Ireland produced that wee babe with dark hair, so much like his?
Bridget’s eyes followed his. “I can see where you’d think she belonged to you. Her father was tall, dark and handsome, too. But I didn’t give birth to her. Do you remember Diedre, my friend who worked at the pub with me?”
Maverick nodded.
“That’s her daughter. She died when Laela was two months old. Automobile accident. Diedre didn’t have any family so she named me as Laela’s godmother at her christening. So, I became an instant mother.” Bridget paused.
Maverick breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry that you lost your friend and your grandmother both in such a short time.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Most of all, I’m sorry about what happened in Ireland.”
“Sorry isn’t enough, Maverick.”
The words cut straight to his heart. “Maybe someday you can forgive me,” he said. “You said you came here to get over me, so I’ll try to stay out of your way.” He picked up a plastic bag and shoved several little bottles of paint into it. Then he left through the back door and slammed it behind him.
And if you love Carolyn Brown’s small-town and sweet stories, we think you’ll like USA Today bestselling author Annie Rains too.
Keep reading for the bonus novella:
A Wedding on Lavender Hill
New York Boston
Chapter One
Claire Donovan had a bit of a reputation in Sweetwater Springs. She loved to shop.
As an event planner, she was always looking for a special item to make the big day just a touch more special. Last week she’d found a clown costume for a purse-sized Chihuahua to wear to its owner’s eightieth birthday bash. It was a huge hit with the crowd; not so much with the little dog, who yapped, ran in circles, and tore at the shiny fabric.
The only shopping Claire would be doing this morning, however, was glancing in storefront windows on her way to meet with her newest client, Pearson Matthews. Claire’s reputation extended beyond shopping. In Sweetwater Springs, she was also known for being professional and punctual, and for putting on the best parties in town.
She passed Sophie’s Boutique and admired the window display, wishing she had more time to pop inside and say hello to the store owner—and try on one of those dresses that she absolutely didn’t need. Then she opened the neighboring door to the Sweetwater Café and stepped inside to a cool blast of air on her face. She was instantly accosted by the heavy scent of coffee brewing. Best aroma in the world!
“Good morning,” Emma St. James said from behind the counter. She had the smile of someone who’d been sniffing coffee and sugary treats since five a.m.
“Morning.” Claire glanced around the room, looking for Pearson. The only people seated in the coffee shop though were two twentysomething-year-old women and a man with his back toward her. Judging by his build, he was in his twenties or thirties and liked to work out. He wore a ball cap that shielded his face. Not that Claire needed to get a good look at him. If his face matched his body, then he was yummier than Emma’s honeybuns in the display case. Claire would do better to have one of those instead.
Pulling her gaze away from him, she walked up to the counter.
�
�Your usual?” Emma asked.
“You know me so well.”
Emma turned and started preparing a tall café latte with heavy cream and two raw sugars. “Your mom was here the other day,” she said a moment later as she slid the cup of coffee toward Claire.
Claire’s good mood immediately took a dive. She loved her mom, but she didn’t exactly like her. “Oh?” she said, her tone heavy with disinterest. “That’s nice.”
Emma tilted her head. “She asked about you.”
“Well, I hope you told her that I’m fine as long as she stays far away.”
“She said she’s going to AA now,” Emma told her as she rang up Claire’s items at the register.
Drinking had always been Claire’s father’s problem though. Nancy Donovan had so many other, more pressing issues to deal with, none of which Claire wanted to concern herself with right now. She paid Emma in cash, took her coffee and bagged honeybun, then turned and looked around the shop once more.
“Are you meeting someone here?” Emma asked.
“Pearson Matthews. I guess he’s running late,” Claire said, turning back.
Emma shrugged. “Not sure, but his son is over there.” She pointed at the man in the ball cap, and Claire nearly dropped her coffee.
What is Bo Matthews doing here? She didn’t have anything against his father, but the youngest Matthews son ranked as one of her least favorite people in Sweetwater Springs. Or he would have if he hadn’t left town last April.
Bo glanced over and offered a small wave.
“Maybe he knows where his father is,” Emma suggested.
A new customer walked in so Claire had no choice but to step away from the counter. She could either walk back out of the Sweetwater Café and text Pearson on the sidewalk or she could ask his son.
You hate him, she reminded herself as attraction stormed in her belly. She forced her feet to walk forward until she was standing at his table.
Hate him, double-hate him, triple-hate him.
But wow, she loved those blue-gray eyes of his, the color of a faded pair of blue jeans. The kind you wanted to shimmy inside of and never take off.
“What are you doing back in town?” she asked, pleased with the controlled level of irritation lining her voice.
He looked up. “I live in Sweetwater Springs, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“You left.” And good riddance.
“I had a job to do in Wild Blossom Bluffs. But now I’m home.”
Like two sides of a football stadium during a touchdown, half of her cheered while the other side booed and hissed. She was not on Team Bo anymore and never would be again. “Where is your father?”
“I’m afraid he couldn’t make it. He asked me to meet with you instead.”
Claire’s gaze flitted to the exit. Pearson Matthews was her biggest client right now. He was a businessman with money and influence, and she’d promised to do a good job for him and his fiancée, Rebecca Long. Claire also had her reputation to maintain. She took her responsibilities seriously and prided herself on going above and beyond the call of duty. Every time for every client.
And right now, her duty was to sit down and make nice with Bo Matthews.
* * *
Bo reached for his cup of black coffee and took a long sip as he listened to Claire do her best to be civil. If he had to guess, the conversation she really wanted to be having with him right now was anything but.
“The wedding is two months away,” she said, avoiding eye contact with him. “We’re on a time crunch, yes, but your father could’ve called and rescheduled the initial planning session.” Her gaze flicked to meet his. “It’s not really something you can do.”
Bo reached for his cup of coffee and took another sip, taking his time in responding. He could tell by the twitch of her cheek that it irritated her. She couldn’t wait to get out of that chair and create as much distance between them as possible. Regret festered up inside him. He couldn’t blame her for being upset. He’d handled things with her all wrong last year. “There’s a problem with the wedding.”
Claire’s stiff facial features twisted. “What? Pearson and Rebecca called the wedding off?”
“No, unfortunately,” he said, although that would’ve made him happy. Bo had been certain his dad would eventually come to his senses about marrying a woman half his age. Then, a few months ago, the lovebirds had announced they were pregnant.
“If the wedding is still a go, then what’s the problem?” Claire lifted her cup of coffee and took a sip.
Naturally that brought his focus to her heart-shaped lips. He’d kissed those lips once—okay, more than once—and he wouldn’t mind doing it again. Clearing his throat, he looked down at the table. “Rebecca is in preterm labor. The doctor put her on hospital bed rest over the weekend. She’s not leaving there until the baby is born. Not for long at least.”
From his peripheral vision, he saw Claire lift her hand to cover that pretty pink mouth. “That’s awful.”
He nodded and looked back up. “She wants to be married before little Junior arrives, which could be a couple days to a couple of weeks from now, if we’re lucky.”
Women weren’t supposed to be beautiful when they frowned, but Claire wore it well. “So the wedding is postponed?” she asked. “Is that why Pearson sent you here to talk to me?”
“Not exactly. Dad and Rebecca want to speed things up a bit. Rebecca can get approval to leave the hospital, but only for a couple hours.”
“Speed things up how much?”
Bo grimaced. This was a lot to ask, but his dad was used to getting things done his way. Pearson Matthews demanded excellence, which was one of the reasons Bo guessed he’d hired Claire in the first place. “They want the wedding to happen this weekend.”
“What?” Claire nearly shouted.
“No expense spared. Dad’s words, not mine.”
She shook her head and started rattling off rapid-fire thoughts. “I don’t even know what they like or what they want. I haven’t met with Rebecca for planning yet. She’s the bride; it’s her wedding. Today is Thursday. That only gives me—”
“—three days,” he said, cutting her off. “They want to marry on Saturday evening.”
Claire’s face was flushed against her strawberry locks. Her green eyes were wide like a woman going into complete panic mode. He’d seen her in this mode when she’d woken up beside him in bed last spring, and that had been his fault as well.
She pulled a small notebook and pen out of her purse and started writing. “I guess I could meet with Rebecca in her hospital room to discuss colors and themes.”
Bo cleared his throat, signaling for Claire to look up. “About that. Dad doesn’t want Rebecca involved. No stress, per doctor’s orders. Dad wants you and me to plan it.”
Claire’s mouth pinched shut.
Yeah, he wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea either. He had other things to do than plan a shotgun wedding that he didn’t even want to happen. For one, he had architectural plans to finish by Friday for a potential client. Having just returned to town, he knew it was important to reestablish his place as the preferred architect in Sweetwater Springs.
“You and me?” She folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t think so.”
He shrugged. “Dad said he’d double your fee for the trouble.”
That pretty, heart-shaped mouth fell open. After a moment, she narrowed her eyes. “What’s in it for you? Aren’t you busy?”
“Very. But despite his poor sense in the love arena, Dad has always been there for me. He even bailed me out of jail once.”
Her gaze flicked away for a moment. Claire had told him about her family history during their night together last spring. Not that he hadn’t already heard the rumors. Her dad was a drunk, now serving time for a DWI. Claire’s mom couldn’t hold down a job and had a bad habit of sleeping with other women’s husbands. Most notably was her mom’s affair with the previous mayor of Sweetwater Springs. That
had ensured that the Donovan family’s dirty laundry was aired for everyone to talk about.
Claire was cut from a different cloth though, and she did her best to make sure everyone saw that.
“Why am I not surprised that you would’ve spent the night in jail?” she asked with a shake of her head. The subtle movement made her red hair scrape along her bare shoulders.
“I guess because you have low expectations for me.”
She pinned him with a look that spoke volumes. “How about no expectations?”
Maybe that was another reason Bo had agreed to help with this farce of a wedding. Claire might never forgive him, but maybe she’d stop being angry at him one day. For a reason he didn’t want to explore too deeply, he hoped that was true.
* * *
Saying yes to this request would be insane.
Claire lifted her coffee to her mouth, wishing it had a splash of something stronger in it right now. “Okay, I’ll do it.” She’d never bailed on a job, and she wasn’t about to start now.
Even if the wedding was in three days. And she had to plan it with Bo Matthews. And… “Oh no.”
“What?” he asked.
“There aren’t going to be any venues available. You can’t book a place three days out. Everywhere in town will be taken. I wouldn’t even be able to empty out a McDonald’s for them to get married in with this short a notice.”
Claire’s hands were shaking. The best and nothing less was her personal motto. But she wasn’t going to be able to deliver this time. There was no way. Her eyes stung with the realization.
“What about the Mayflower?” Bo asked.
That was a popular restaurant that she sometimes reserved for less formal events. “It’ll be booked.”
“The community center?”
Claire rolled her eyes. “Such a male thing to say. No woman dreams of getting married at the local community center.” Claire dropped her head into her hands. Think, think, think.
Cowboy Rebel--Includes a bonus short story Page 27