Pumpkins, Cowboys & Guitars

by Patti Ann Colt

  Robin laughed and then shrieked as Chad lifted her off her feet and swung her around and around amid the falling snowflakes.

  “Mommy?”

  Chad set Robin on her feet and they looked to the doorway. Boo and Lindy peeked around the storm door. The rest of the family stood on the porch, shamelessly eavesdropping.

  “You and Mr. Chad are getting all wet.” Lindy had her arm around Boo’s shoulder.

  “That’s Daddy to you.” Chad yelled, grinning. Their eyes went huge, their mouths rounded.

  “Do you mean it?” They both jumped on their toes.

  “Yes!” Robin shouted, laughing.

  Screaming, the girls shot through the falling snow like a sled on ice, throwing themselves at Chad and Robin. Huddled in a hug at the center of the driveway, the girls spread kisses over their faces.

  “The pumpkin magic really worked, huh?” Boo kissed Chad’s nose.

  “Yes, sweetheart. It surely did.”

  Chad caught Robin’s hand in his. They walked to the house. His father held the door open and Chad set Boo on her feet. Taking Lindy from Robin, he set her down and shooed them through the door.

  Lifting Robin into his arms, he carried her over the threshold.

  Robin stroked his cheek with her free hand. “I love you, Chad.”

  His heart soared. “Welcome to happily-ever-after, sweetheart,” he whispered before settling his lips on hers.

  ~~THE END~~

  ECHO FALLS, TEXAS SERIES

  WHAT’S NEXT

  CHRISTMAS MAGIC (SHORT STORY)

  THE SWEETHEART DANCE (FULL NOVEL)

  A WINTER ROMANCE (SHORT STORY)

  KISS ME GOODNIGHT (FULL NOVEL)

  BOO & LINDY’S MATCHMAKING ADVENTURE (NOVELLA)

  CANYON HEARTS (FULL NOVEL)

  COWBOY’S HEART

  BY

  PATTI ANN COLT

  EXCERPT

  Lights flashed on the windows and she got up to see who was coming to the house at this time of night.

  The truck pulled down the lane and when it came under the yard light, she sucked in a breath.

  Jess.

  She shoved her feet into her flip flops, rushed to the back door and out to the driveway, not taking time for a robe.

  Jess got out of his truck, his mouth opened in surprise.

  Their argument washed over her. She wanted to yell and scream at him, she wanted to hit him, she wanted….ohhhh.

  She launched herself at him and took his lips. She didn’t know how it was possible to be so damn mad, yet want him so bad.

  He did what he always did — softened his lips, smoothed a hand down her spine, calming her, gentling her, seducing her. Then he pressed into her with hungry tastes, pulled her against his solid length and tightened his hold.

  God, she was home.

  Breath mingled, sensation after sensation blasted through her. She stroked his back, the warmth of his body defying the shirt and spreading tingles into her hands. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I did. Why did you leave in the first place?” He lifted her nightgown and stroked the bare skin underneath.

  She bit her lip, sighing, wanting, wavering. She slipped her nose against his skin and absorbed the familiar spike of need. She didn’t have a prayer of stopping herself. She jumped up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, kissing away his surprise.

  “I missed you, baby.”

  DEDICATION

  To my daughter-in-law, Rebecca Razo Colt

  Because it’s wonderful to have gained another daughter who is also a friend

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Copper Canyon, Texas is a real place.

  The places, people and events I’ve depicted are not.

  That doesn’t make the sentiment and values any less real, inviting or true.

  Thank you, Texas! Twelve years ago, this small town Idaho girl moved to Dallas-Fort Worth and you made me welcome. Your men are gentlemen. Your women are sweethearts. Your values are strong. Your pride is admirable.

  You are the home of my woman’s heart.

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞

  CHAPTER ONE

  Jess O’Hare twirled his whiskey glass in the condensation on the table in front of him. He sat in the corner booth of The Low Down Saloon and Restaurant in Copper Canyon, Texas. He was expected at his parents for Thursday night dinner soon and yet he didn’t move.

  Sully Johnson, his cousin and owner of this fine establishment, wiped glasses and checked bottles behind the bar. The long, glossy oak bar was said to have been bought at a Hollywood auction off an old western movie set. He knew that couldn’t be true, but Sully’s blarney made it seem possible.

  Jess closed his eyes. The aroma of cooking beef made his stomach growl and yet he sat. He’d blame his inertia on the deep comfort of the black leather booth seat, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth.

  “You still moping?” Sully drawled close to his ear.

  Jess opened his eyes and swiped at him like a pesky fly. He missed, then casually spread his arms to the back of the booth. “I’m not moping.”

  “Right.” Sully lifted the glass and wiped the table.

  He thought maybe he’d get lucky and his cousin would leave it alone, but it was a hope not in keeping with years of family nosiness.

  “You should just go after her.” Sully slid into the opposite seat.

  He groaned. “Don’t start.”

  “Well, you’ve been acting like a lovesick cow ever since Amy Rose left two weeks ago. Whole family’s tired of tippy-toeing around you. Amy Rose is probably tired of waiting for your sorry ass.”

  “You’ve talked to her?” He snapped his mouth shut.

  Sully snorted and pointed a finger at him. “See, you’re so hung up, a pair of scissors couldn’t cut you free. What’d you two break up for anyway?”

  Jess stiffened. “Don’t think that’s anybody’s business.”

  “Figured it was about time somebody made it their business.” Sully screwed up his mouth, ready to launch into the topic like a minister delivering a sermon.

  He downed the rest of his drink and shoved his empty glass across the table. Sully caught it as only a good bartender could. The action derailed the lecture.

  For a half-second.

  “She’s been your girl for three years, Jess. You’ve been stuck on her since high school. From the looks of things, she’s stuck on you, too.

  “I just love all this sweet advice from a guy who frequently spouts off that he isn’t getting married.” He swallowed, fighting the sarcastic tongue that hinted at the frustration boiling over in his gut.

  She’d left! Left! Yes, their last argument had been devastating. They’d both been angry and said things they didn’t mean. But didn’t that crazy girl know that he loved her?

  Sully interrupted Jess’s usual-of-late spiral into the morass of hurt and pissed. “My life isn’t the discussion topic here, cow chaser. Besides, your mama is gonna kill you when she finds out you missed Thursday night dinner because you were sitting here and then she’ll call her sister —my mama —and I’ll never hear the end of it. Git.”

  “I’m not going to dinner. Don’t want to deal with the same conversation. Have you heard from Amy Rose?” He sing-songed the question in his mother’s high pitch.

  “Can’t blame Aunt Ladonna. She took Amy Rose into the family from the first. This fight hurt more than just you.”

  Jess leaned over the table, tempted to punch his cousin. “You think I did that on purpose?” Hurting his mama and daddy, his brother and the rest of the family who loved Amy Rose too hadn’t been his intention. Having her leave hadn’t been his intention at all!

  Sully rose. “Nope. Not on purpose. But might work better if you hunted her down, got on your sorry knees and begged. Give your mama a hug for me.” He sauntered off, stopping at the juke box.

  Jess let his head roll onto the back of the upholstered seat. He knew he’d been worse than a fool that night with Amy
Rose. He’d been dead tired and dirty, hot and sticky, and just plain grumpy. She’d already been over-emotional for the last couple of weeks and impatient.

  Then the taboo subject of her law degree came up. She was ready to take the bar exam for a career she didn’t want, only to make her father happy, and Jess thought it was way past time to draw a line and say no.

  He was a simple rancher, never pretended to be otherwise and thought Amy Rose was okay with that. But she wouldn’t make a choice. She wouldn’t look at him and say “I want to be with you.” She just kept going off on all these tangents to please her father. It scared him to death.

  He needed her to make a decision.

  His road or her father’s?

  She couldn’t do both to his way of thinking. If she got sucked into the law firm, she’d be at the office all the time, and eventually would give in to her father’s hatred of all things rural and Jess in particular. This wasn’t a new argument. When they’d started dating, Amy Rose had just started law school. She hated it, but kept at it. They’d had a version of this same damned “discussion” since day one.

  She was his bright shining light. He needed her and yet instead of understanding her perspective, he’d felt like he was losing her and he’d opened his mouth and made it happen. Shit.

  The juke box started playing Darius Rucker’s “Come Back Song” and Jess groaned.

  Sully gave him an evil grin from behind the bar.

  Jess grabbed his cowboy hat and strode through the saloon doors, flipping his cousin off as he left. He fitted the beige hat to his head and stood on the porch for several long moments. The traffic flow on the street was crowded and noisy, and he was at war with himself. It was going to be a fight through traffic either way, but go home or swing by his parents as expected?

  His spankin’ pretty, hardly-driven red truck was two slots down from the double-wide restaurant doors. He bought the piece of cowboy flash about a year ago in an attempt to impress upon Amy Rose and her family that he could clean up and look decent.

  She hadn’t really noticed, telling him volumes about who she was. And the new truck didn’t drive near as well his ten-year-old, beat up, black work truck. Even coupling the shiny vehicle with his new jeans and a new cowboy hat didn’t change the dirt under his nails.

  Why the hell he put the duds on after coming in off the dry and dusty range, he didn’t know. Maybe some fleeting idea of driving to Dallas and dragging Miss Amy Rose back home where she belonged.

  Boot steps sounded on the plank and Jess turned to see who it was, then wished he hadn’t.

  “O’Hare.”

  Amy Rose’s father stopped at his side. He didn’t offer his hand and neither did Jess.

  The man’s blue striped suit cost more than his brother’s custom made bronc riding gear. “Pretty far away from work aren’t you?”

  “Client and friend in Flower Mound.”

  That explained it. Business.

  Flower Mound, Texas was just up the road a piece. Even though Copper Canyon was surrounded by many such upper middle class, moneyed towns, Edgar Adams never came to this area without a damn good reason anymore. His family roots had been established here a long time before suburbia and money had shined up the area, before many well-to-do owners had taken over dozens of the ranches. No, Mr. Adams had shaken Copper Canyon off his shoes when it was a simple rural area. He’d gone on to build a successful law practice. He’d eventually bought a home in an area of Dallas renowned for famous people. The man resented Amy Rose living here, hated her attachment to the family’s homestead, hated visiting. Jess’s middle class family was just icing on the hate cake.

  Edgar glanced at his watch. “Glad you took my earlier advice and sent her home. She needs to prepare for her future, not hang around here.”

  Jess clenched his teeth. “I take it she made it safely to your house?” It galled him to have to ask, but she wasn’t answering her phone and damned if he’d worry about that any more.

  “Yes, she did.”

  Jess nodded at the man and started down the steps.

  “She’s doing what needs to be done, son.”

  Jess turned, temper simmering. “I’m not your son, sir. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t refer to me that way.”

  Mr. Adams lifted his hands, a small smirk on his face. “No offense intended. Just appreciate having my daughter and heir to my law firm back.”

  Jess tightened his hand around his keys, desperately wanting to wipe the smirk from Edgar’s face. But during the argument with Amy Rose, he had said some petty, awful things. Regret was a bitter thing to be riding a man. Mouthing off to her father wouldn’t change that.

  He tipped his hat. “Good night, sir.” He walked to the red truck, wishing mightily that he hadn’t succumbed to being something he wasn’t just to impress Edgar Grayson Adams. He drove away, mulling over and discarding several ways to try to see Amy Rose without her mother slamming the door in his face. Or worse still, telling security not to let him through the gates.

  Not wanting to add to the mess of the situation, he drove to Thursday night dinner at his parents as usual. He pulled down the long driveway, examining the white fence line on either side and stalling. If he thought he could get away with it, he’d take to the barn and spend some time with the horses.

  But his daddy would come hunting him and the lecture about keeping supper waiting wouldn’t be worth it.

  A usual Thursday night dinner would have another family member, a neighbor or a church friend at the table. Please let it be so today. Anyone to keep the social niceties in place and keep him from getting grilled about Amy Rose. He pulled up and parked behind his father’s truck and mourned. His brother was a fireman now, having given up bronc-riding for some vague, non-specific reason. He had a shift tonight, damn him. There were no extra cars in the driveway. No uncles or aunts, no cousins, no babies to cuddle, no friends. Which meant three for dinner and no buffer.

  “Hell!” His stomach rolled, appetite scattering like dust in a Texas breeze.

  He got out of his truck just as his mother stepped onto the front porch.

  Ladonna O’Hare’s gray hair was piled on her head. Her pale lavender floral dress was one of her favorites along with the white apron tied around her hips. She lifted a hand to shade blue eyes that could dance with pleasure or laser her displeasure. “Why are you driving pretty red?”

  He walked toward the porch, took the steps with more pep than he felt and kissed his mother’s cheek. “Just needed driving.”

  “And your church clothes?”

  Jess shook his head. Some days he wished his mother would miss a few tricks. “Thought I’d dress up for you, Mama.”

  “Liar.” She slapped his arm, but there was no denying the pleasure in her eyes or the quick look to the other side of the truck. Hope shimmered like a tiny ember in her eyes. He smothered the guilt and gave her a hug that lifted her off her feet.

  “I cooked all your favorites.” She dropped to her feet and wrapped an arm around his waist.

  Jess did an imaginary swipe of the sweat off his brow. Damn good thing he hadn’t skipped out like he’d wanted to. “What did daddy have to say about that?”

  “Well, he likes a good steak, too. And I was hoping you being here would make him eat his vegetables.”

  Jess opened the door for her, followed her into the kitchen, and put his hat on the hook. “I hate to break this to you, Mom, but Dad hates vegetables.”

  “Hope springs eternal. Your Dad is out on the patio grilling the steaks. Why don’t you go check on him while I take my pie out of the oven?”

  The kitchen smelled of roasting potatoes and peach pie. Jess drew a deep breath and felt his appetite trickle back. “I think I’ll do that.”

  He ventured down the side hall and out the back door. Chase O’Hare stood on the edge of the stone patio staring at the sunset across the back lawn, brown from lack of rain and water. Another casualty of the heat and drought.

  The st
eaks sizzled on the gas barbeque near him. The sound and the smell of the roasting beef made Jess’s stomach growl. A byproduct of moping and working too hard was that he never took time for regular meals and his stomach was damning him for it. He paused and enjoyed the orange sun’s slide toward the horizon.

  When Jess had been a little boy, he used to run to his father and wait to be swung up and lifted onto his shoulders. He had probably walked most of the ranch at one time or another on the man’s shoulders. Now Jess topped his father by two inches and hadn’t been on his shoulders in two decades. And yet he depended on his father’s stability, his wisdom and his sense of humor like no other person on earth.

  Jess joined his father and stood in an exact mirror of his hands behind the back posture.

  Chase spoke before Jess could. “I used to swing you up on my shoulders right here and watch the sun go down.”

  Jess snorted. “Was just thinking that.”

  “Watch out for your mother. She side-stepped four people who wanted to come to dinner tonight.”

  Jess drew in a sharp breath.

  “She’s determined to talk some sense into you.”

  Jess walked to the barbeque and lifted the lid, sucking in the aroma of cooking beef, as if the smell would satisfy his hungry stomach. He picked up the barbeque fork and shifted the steaks on the grill. “Amy Rose is the one that left, Dad. Why do I need some sense talked into me?”

  “You didn’t go after her, did you? And get out of my steaks.” His father lifted the fork out of Jess’s hand and turned the meat with focused care.

  Jess shifted out of his way. “We both need some time.”

  Chase’s face screwed up in disgust. “Is that the best you got?”

  Jess hung his head. “Yeah. I’m on a gimpy horse plodding down a long dusty road with no help in sight.”

  “Well, no wonder Amy Rose left. You gotta fight for your woman, Jess.” He closed the lid.