With a gentle pat to the many heads surrounding him, he strode toward the gate. He must have recognized her car long before she emerged, manila envelope in hand. What was he thinking? Was his heart beating a mile a minute like hers, or were hurt and anger ruling his emotions?
“Hi.” The carefully guarded expression on his face revealed nothing.
“I, um...Sage and Gavin said it was okay. I’m not disturbing you, am I?”
“Just playing cowboy.”
“You don’t play at it, Conner. You’re talented. You have every reason to be proud of your accomplishments.”
A small smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“You are?” Were his reasons the same as hers?
“Gavin got a call this morning from the Scottsdale police.”
“They found the person who shot the mare!”
“He came forward.”
Dallas was glad—and furious. “I hope they throw the book at him. He deserves it.”
“Actually, according to the officer who called, he’ll probably only be charged with a misdemeanor.”
“That’s all?”
“He claimed it was an accident. And there are no witnesses.”
“Accident, my foot!”
“He did come forward. He could have kept quiet.”
“Hmm.” She wasn’t satisfied.
“He also offered to make a donation to the mustang sanctuary.”
Dallas was somewhat mollified when Conner named the amount. “Still, it wasn’t right. He should have reported shooting the mare when it happened.”
“Yeah, she was injured. But she and Pito are fine now. And a lot of positive attention came from all the media coverage.”
“True.” Something Conner had said suddenly occurred to Dallas. “Pito? Is that what you named the colt?”
“It’s short for Principito.”
“Little Prince. I like it.”
“By the way—” his smile grew “—what brings you by?”
“This.” Dallas held out the envelope.
Conner took it and removed one print, then another. “Not what I expected.”
“You don’t like them?” Her spirits sank.
“I do. They’re great. I just don’t see myself as an advertisement for a car dealership.”
“Exploring the Southwest in your brand-new truck,” she explained. “Wide-open spaces. Modern-day cowboy.”
“If you say so.”
“It’s a gimmick. A way to entice customers to the dealership.”
“And an effective one. I think I’ll buy a new truck from this place. Maybe they’ll give me a smoking deal.”
“Sure. I can see you in one.” Someday. When he was back on his feet financially. “But I like your old truck. It has character. Been though some tough times and keeps running.”
Like its owner.
“Can’t continue driving this junker to my new job.”
“New job?”
His small smile transformed into a full-blown grin. “Infinity Renewable Energy Systems. I start on Monday.”
“When... What... How long have you known?”
“I interviewed with them this morning. They offered me the position on the spot. You’re the first person I’ve told. I wanted a little time to myself to let it sink in.”
Before she quite realized what had happened, she was in his arms.
He caught her, swinging her off her feet. They both laughed.
“I’m so happy for you.” As he set her down, she cradled his face in her hands and kissed him full on the mouth. “Did you find the job online?”
“Richard told me about it.”
“Richard? No way!”
“He came by to see me yesterday. We talked. Things between us are better.”
“I can’t believe he helped you land a job.”
“Sure you can. He’s not a bad guy.”
“He’s not. Actually, he’s a sweetheart, and I’m lucky to have him for my baby’s father.”
Conner filled her in on the details about the job. There was more potential than immediate reward, but it was perfect for him.
“I’ll have to work a lot of hours the first year or two.”
“Being afraid of hard work isn’t one of your faults.”
“I won’t have as much time for the horses.”
“Are you okay with that?”
“I am. I have other interests closer to home.”
“Such as?”
His reply was to take her in his arms again and kiss her senseless.
Oh, my goodness!
She needed several seconds afterward to catch her breath. “I’m sorry about the other day. I wasn’t—”
“Shut up.”
“What?”
“We both made mistakes. Said things we shouldn’t have, out of anger and hurt. It happens with couples. We’ll talk it out, learn from it and move on. Then we’ll be better, stronger, more in love than we were before.”
“Are we in love?” She was and had been since the dinner with Sage and Gavin, when he’d tenderly held Milo.
“Crazy. Wildly. Enough in love that I’m not letting you leave here without agreeing to marry me.”
“M-marry you?”
“I’ve never proposed before. Should I get on bended knee?” He started to lower himself.
“Stop!” She tugged him to his feet.
“You’re turning me down?” He looked devastated.
“No. I mean yes, I will marry you.” Her words came out in a jumbled rush. “Just don’t go down on one knee.”
“What should I do?”
“Kiss me. Buy me a ring. Take my parents to dinner and tell them over champagne.”
“I think I can handle all that.”
“I do have one request.” She turned pleading eyes on him. “Make time for the horses. You’re a smart and gifted businessman. But you’re also a cowboy, with traditional values and beliefs. That’s exactly the kind of role model I want for my child. Our child.”
“Richard’s the father.”
“And you’ll be the stepfather. There every day helping me. Whether I like admitting it or not, Hank played a big role in shaping me into the person I am.”
“Remind me to thank him.”
“You can. At the wedding, when he walks me down the aisle.”
Conner gave her that kiss she’d asked for. “Marry me, Dallas. Love me always.”
“Yes to both. Forever and ever.”
They drove back to Powell Ranch in Conner’s old truck, to share the news with their friends. Dallas was definitely going to talk him into keeping it. If anything, as a reminder of where’d they been and how far they’d come.
It had taken her a while, but she finally understood the lesson her mother had tried to teach her. Everyone must choose their own path to happiness, not the one others think they should.
Dallas was utterly certain her path to happiness included Conner, their respective careers and the family they would create together.
Epilogue
Five months later
Conner stood outside Dallas’s hospital door, holding a bouquet of freshly cut flowers. He’d been about to go in, and hesitated when he spotted Richard standing over the bassinet and gazing fondly at his daughter, Grace Marina. She was named for both her grandmothers, who’d been there for the birth and only left within the past hour.
Co
nner thought Richard had left, too.
He didn’t barge in. Instead he gave Richard and Dallas a few minutes of privacy. Conner would have to get used to that. They were Grace’s parents and, as such, there’d be times when Conner would have to watch silently from the sidelines.
He was okay with that. Just as Richard would be okay watching silently from the sidelines when it came to Conner and Dallas.
They’d done pretty well so far, handling potentially awkward and difficult situations with calm and reason. Such as the holidays, Conner and Dallas’s wedding two months ago and Grace’s birth late last night. When Conner would have remained outside in the waiting room, Richard had agreed to Dallas’s request that he be allowed to stay during the delivery.
Conner had held her hand. It was Richard, however, who got to hold baby Grace first, after Dallas.
Next time, when Conner and Dallas gave Grace a younger brother or sister, he would hold Dallas’s hand and the baby.
“Hey, come on in.”
He looked up to find Richard smiling foolishly—like a man who’d just become a father for the first time—and motioning him in the room.
Dallas reached out a hand. When he neared the bed, she drew him down for a light peck on the lips. “Baby’s sleeping. Mommy wants to sleep, too.”
None of them had rested more than a few hours after the 1:27 a.m. birth. Conner’s Z’s were courtesy of the painfully uncomfortable chair beside Dallas’s bed.
“Better hurry,” he told her. “I think you’re being released in a few hours.”
“Are these for me?” She took the flowers. “They’re lovely.”
“I’m heading home.” Richard stretched and yawned. “Call me if you need anything.” He came over and kissed Dallas on the forehead.
“I will. Thank you, Richard.”
There was affection in their voices, that of two friends and two people committed to being wonderful parents to their daughter.
“Do you mind if I stop by tomorrow after work to visit Gracie? I won’t stay long.”
“That would be fine.”
“I’ll bring dinner if you can stand eating takeout.” Richard extended his hand to Conner.
They weren’t going to be one big, happy family. But they would manage well enough.
After Richard left, Conner went over to the bassinet and took in his fill of sleeping Grace. Unable to resist, he slipped his index finger into her tiny, delicate hand and was rewarded with a light squeeze.
“Sleep tight, beautiful girl.”
She was beautiful, a combination of the best traits from both her parents.
Conner would have some influence on her, too. If he had anything to say about it, she’d grow up to be the roughest, toughest cowgirl in Mustang Valley. About the time she was ready for her first horse, Pito would be trained and gentled.
The tradition of wild mustangs and the cowfolk who rode them would continue for another generation.
He returned to the bed. Dallas was almost asleep, her eyelids drifting shut, the bouquet of flowers in her hand.
There were several other floral arrangements in the room, one from Infinity. Conner’s job had turned out to be harder than he’d anticipated, and came with demanding hours.
He loved every minute and couldn’t wait to go to work in the mornings.
The only thing he loved more was coming home in the evenings to Dallas.
He bent and nuzzled her cheek. “I love you.”
She mumbled her love in return before drifting off again.
Conner thought about lying down next to her, but then little Gracie started making anxious mewling sounds. He went over and instinctively rested a hand on her tummy to comfort her. She didn’t stop.
Not wanting the cries to wake Dallas, Conner lifted Grace out of the bassinet, adjusted her blanket and held her against his chest. “Shhh.”
“Bring her here,” Dallas said sleepily, and set the flowers on the nightstand.
She’d woken up anyway, despite his efforts. He supposed mothers were keenly attuned to their babies’ every noise and movement. Especially new ones.
Carrying Grace, he laid her in Dallas’s outstretched arms. She scooted over and patted the mattress beside her.
While she held their baby, Conner held her—and kept holding her long after she fell asleep.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Rancher’s Son by Leigh Duncan!
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Chapter One
Sarah Magarity rose to her tiptoes on the stepladder. The large silver star atop the Christmas tree wobbled when her fingers brushed against it. As she wrestled the heavy ornament from the center post, it tipped, threatening to throw her off balance. For a second, Sarah saw herself lying on the floor, alone and injured, through the long holiday weekend. Normally hectic on a Thursday afternoon, the Department of Children and Family Services in Fort Pierce, Florida, had slowly emptied once the tech guys shut down the computers for a system-wide upgrade. Now only a tree that smelled more like plastic than pine stood between her and a much-needed two weeks out from under a crushing workload.
Two weeks of white, sandy beaches and a cell phone that didn’t buzz with a new crisis every ten minutes. Two weeks of gathering plants for her growing collection of tropical flowers. Sarah took a deep breath and braced herself against the wall. She could almost smell Hawaiian orchids and plumeria.
Dreaming of ukuleles and fruity concoctions decorated with tiny umbrellas, she whistled a slightly off-key version of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” Carefully, she toted the star down the ladder. Her foot had barely touched the worn carpet when one of the doors at the main entrance swung open. Sounds of heavy traffic on U.S. Highway 1 blared into the office before the door swished closed. Silence, broken only by the noisy hum of an air conditioner, once more filled the room.
“C’mon, Jimmy.” A voice whined over the warren of empty cubicles. “We hav’ta find someone pronto. It’s late.”
Late for what?
Sarah swallowed a groan. Whoever had arrived at four-thirty on Christmas Eve, they were late, all right. The holiday party for kids in foster care had ended at two.
“Can I help you?” Sarah prayed the curvy brunette rounding the last of the partitions wanted nothing more than grocery money. A couple of ten-dollar gift cards, and not much else, remained in the emergency fund.
“This is Jimmy Parker.” The woman’s plunging neckline dipped perilously low as she placed her hand square on the back of the little boy at her side and shoved. The child stumbled forward. “His mom asked me to drop him off.”
Sarah mustered a smile for the pair of sad brown eyes that peered up from beneath a thatch of sandy-blond hair. The boy’s hollow gaze met hers only briefly before he looked away. When hi
s focus dropped to a pair of tattered sneakers, Sarah hiked an eyebrow. She skimmed over high-water jeans, frowned at a shirt Goodwill would reject. Fighting a protective nature that made her want to wrap the little boy in her arms and make everything right in his world, Sarah stiffened her spine.
The brutal truth was, a dozen kids just like this one walked into the DCF offices each month. She had a hundred more open cases in her file cabinet. She couldn’t give every child assigned to her the attention they deserved. Not and still keep her sanity. The situation was far from her idealistic dream of how things ought to work. But there were too many at-risk kids, too few dollars to go around and too few workers to do the job.
Letting her eyes narrow, she faced the older of her guests head-on. “You’re too late.” She grimaced when a little more vehemence than usual crept into her voice. “The party was hours ago. You should have been here then.”
Despite herself, Sarah glanced across the room at a whimsical mural of a sleigh propelled by eight flying porpoises. Were there any presents left? Not a chance. Every gift from Santa’s bag had been distributed into the eager hands of other kids who were just as needy as this one.
“Party?” The latecomer’s dark eyebrows lifted. “Who said anything about a party?” The brunette chewed a wad of gum and swallowed. “I promised to deliver the kid, and here he is.”
An uneasy feeling settled in Sarah’s chest when her visitor dropped a worn duffel bag to the floor.
“Hold on a sec,” she ordered. “Maybe you’d better start at the beginning and tell me exactly what brought you here. I’m Sarah Magarity, the senior caseworker.” She paused for a look around. With no husband or children of her own to rush home to, she’d offered to keep the office open until closing time. A skeleton staff would report in on Monday and man the offices through the New Year. For tonight, though, she was it. “And you are?”
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