BACK TO THE BEGINNING
Aaron “Click” Hale is a reminder of Tandy Boone’s past and of the heartache they endured years ago. But the handsome horse trainer is back in Fort Kyle, Texas, raising a toddler on his own, and stirring up all the dreams—and emotions—he and Tandy once shared.
Click is reeling, and only partially because Tandy is back in his life. He discovered he was a father the same day he was given custody of his young daughter, Pearl. As Click adjusts to parenthood, Tandy is supportive and wonderful with the little girl. But they’re both still hurting. Can Tandy and Click find a way through their old pain to build a new family together?
“Tandy, there are things to be said—” Click took a shaky breath.
“No.” Her voice razor sharp, she threw up a hand.
“Tandy—”
“We’re not talking about the past.” The words were harsh.
He gritted his teeth. “Let me apologize.”
She shook her head, her eyes narrowing. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does, dammit,” he argued.
“You need to apologize so I need to listen?” She shook her head. “So you can feel better? Be able to let go and move on?”
He tore his gaze from hers, staring at the floor. If he thought she was happy, that she’d moved on, he’d let it go. But she hadn’t. And neither had he. Maybe together they could find a way back to living without bearing so much pain.
He sucked in another deep breath and stared at her.
“Have you?” He crossed the room, needing to be close to her. Yearning for her touch. “Because I can’t…and I don’t want to.”
Dear Reader,
I’m so excited to share Click and Tandy’s story with you. As a hopeless romantic, I like to believe that true love really does conquer all. Sometimes the obstacles are small. For Click and Tandy, that’s not the case.
With most of Tandy’s relatives falling in love and starting families, she’s reminded of everything she had—and lost. Instead of getting bogged down in grief, she jumps on a too-good-to-pass-up job offer and the change of scenery it brings. But her past followed her to the West Texas town—and so does the heartache.
Click Hale hadn’t planned on being a single father. But his daughter is all he has in the world, and he’s determined to do the best he can. If he can win back Tandy’s love, he’ll give his daughter the family he never had and make his dreams come true.
I hope you enjoy our first visit to Fort Kyle and the rugged beauty of West Texas. Be on the lookout for the next Boone book, and happy reading!
All the best,
Sasha Summers
COWBOY LULLABY
Sasha Summers
Sasha Summers grew up surrounded by books. Her passions have always been storytelling, romance and travel. Whether it’s an easy-on-the-eyes cowboy or a hero of truly mythic proportions, Sasha falls a little in love with each and every one of her heroes. She frequently gets lost with her characters in the worlds she creates, forgetting those everyday tasks like laundry and dishes. Luckily, her four brilliant children and hero-inspiring hubby are super understanding and helpful.
Books by Sasha Summers
Harlequin Western Romance
The Boones of Texas
A Cowboy’s Christmas Reunion
Twins for the Rebel Cowboy
Courted by the Cowboy
A Cowboy to Call Daddy
A Son for the Cowboy
Harlequin Blaze
Seducing the Best Man
Christmas in His Bed
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
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For Jolene Navarro
Thank you for your time, your mad plotting skills and your constant support.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Excerpt from Wrangling Cupid’s Cowboy by Amanda Renee
Chapter One
“Lynnie would be spitting nails if she knew everyone in town had been here with the house looking this way.” Tandy stood in the front parlor, surveying the room. Her massive dog, Banshee, sat at her side.
Most of the residents of Fort Kyle had already left, leaving casseroles, desserts and treats to cover Lynnie’s kitchen counters and tables. Not that there was anyone left to eat them. Still, it’s what folks did—bring food, visit, share memories that honored the recently deceased.
Tandy swallowed hard. It was difficult to accept Lynnie was gone. She’d been such a strong spirit, and Tandy couldn’t imagine life without her.
Walking into Lynnie Hale’s house was like stepping back in time. Any second now, she expected Lynnie to walk around the corner—wearing her favorite apron, with a welcoming smile on her face and stories to tell.
A wave of nostalgia rolled over Tandy. This had been the place she’d been happiest. Seeing it empty and quiet was plain wrong. She ran her fingers along the fine layer of dust on Lynnie’s upright piano, a sure sign the older woman hadn’t been home in some time. If she had, her piano would have stayed clean and neat. Lynnie Hale was—had been—fiercely and unapologetically house proud. To have the people of Fort Kyle here seeing her home and treasures in anything less than perfect condition would make Lynnie ashamed.
She hurried into the kitchen to find her cousins, Scarlett and Renata, covering food and storing it in the refrigerator.
“Anyone left?” Renata asked her.
“A few of her friends are still chatting in the living room. I think everyone else has cleared out,” she answered, offering them both a smile.
“Can we clean now?” Scarlett asked.
“Bothering you, too?” Tandy asked. “I kept imagining her, how mad she’d be.”
Renata nodded. “I only wish we could have set the place to rights before all of Fort Kyle came by.”
Tandy nodded. No point wishing what could have been. “We can fix it now,” she said, collecting a trash bag.
They cleared away the used dishes, stopping to chat with Lynnie’s closest friends now and then. When the dishes were gone, Tandy pulled out a duster, wood polish and an old rag and got to work. Banshee trailed after her, her constant shadow. Renata was sweeping, and Scarlett took the trash out.
Grief sat heavy on her chest, but Tandy fought it. Lynnie wouldn’t want tears or despair, she’d want laughter. Better to think about the dozens of homemade cookies, muffins, pies and breads they’d made in Lynnie’s kitchen, the sticky-sweet jams or veggies they’d canned, or the hours upon hours Tandy and her cousins had spent playing the piano and singing at the top of their lungs. Lynnie wasn’t kin, but she’d welcomed Tandy and her cousins into her home as if they were. Whenever they wandered onto her property—which was often—she’d gone out of her way to
carve out time for them. So much love. And laughter. And music. Always music.
Lynnie’s place was comfort and love, laughter and songs, and family.
Tandy surveyed her work, satisfied.
She turned her attention to the framed photos decorating the wall behind the piano. She ran the feather duster around each frame, each image a familiar glimpse at the woman they’d lost. Lynnie, tall and thin, in a handful of committees and board photos. Lynnie with her prized preserves, judging livestock shows and riding drag rider at the rear of a cattle drive. There were pictures of those Lynnie loved there, too. Tandy’s picture was there, young and smiling, with Scarlett and Renata.
And Click. She studied his smile. Those blue-green eyes had made the world a better place. But that had been a long time ago.
Aaron “Click” Hale was part of her past. That’s where he needed to stay. Her cheeks grew hot, her chest heavy. He’d turn up soon. Of course he would. For Lynnie. They were kin, through thick and thin.
I can do this.
Tandy headed back into the kitchen to stow her cleaning supplies. Inside her well-organized pantry hung Lynnie’s collection of aprons. Some she’d made, some she’d bought and some were gifts. A rainbow of colors and shapes. Some were practical, the ones Lynnie wore daily. Others were pure silliness—with ruffles and sparkles and silly sayings. Still, Lynnie had held on to them.
Lynnie’s favorite, blue calico and patched so many times the original fabric was suspect, hung aside. Tandy stroked the soft fabric, drawing in an unsteady breath. I will miss you so, Lynnie.
“Tandy?” Scarlett called out. “I’m putting on a pot of coffee for Widow Riley. Want some?”
Tandy closed the pantry, shutting away the memories and sadness that followed. “Sure.”
“Think she’d be satisfied?” Renata asked, hanging the broom on its hook by the back door. Her blue eyes scrutinized their hurried cleaning efforts.
Tandy giggled. “I can hear her now. ‘Dust is just a country accent.’ Wasn’t that it?”
Scarlett and Renata laughed. It was true. In West Texas, dust was part of the decorating. Best you could do was keep it to a minimum. They’d done that.
“Banshee,” she said to the Anatolian shepherd. “Go outside for now.” She rubbed him behind the ear as he passed, looking insulted by his banishment. “It won’t take long,” she promised.
Scarlett carried a tray with coffee into the dining room. Renata followed with a plate of cookies. If Lynnie’s friends needed to stay a bit longer, they’d do what they could to be hospitable. It’s what Lynnie would have wanted. They served coffee, cleared more plates and moved into the parlor.
“You should play something.” Scarlett nodded at the now dust-free instrument.
She stared at the piano. “I can’t,” she confessed. “I don’t want to embarrass her, crying on her keyboard.”
Scarlett draped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry this happened now. Not saying there’s a better time for...” She broke off and shook her head. “You just moved here, is all I mean. To lose Lynnie now, when you’re back, it’s not fair.”
Tandy nodded. Lynnie had played a huge part in her decision to move to Fort Kyle. She swallowed.
“Lynnie would be glad you were back, Tandy,” Renata said. “And glad we set the place to rights.”
Tandy nodded, her gaze sweeping the parlor and the small group of white-haired ladies chatting away. Lynnie didn’t have family to come and tidy up her place. Other than some second cousin in the city—which city had never been specified—Lynnie didn’t have much.
Except for Click.
Tandy swallowed the razor-sharp lump in her throat, painful all the way down. Her attention wandered, but there was still no sign of Lynnie’s great-nephew. He’d be hurting, too. Lynnie was his rock, the only family that treated him like he was more than a nuisance and mistake.
“How old were we?” Renata asked, studying the wall of pictures she’d dusted earlier.
She glanced at the photo of them. “Young.” That girl hadn’t imagined her future like this. That girl had believed in the promise of a future full of everything she’d never had.
“You okay?” Renata asked, nudging her.
“We don’t have to be here.” Scarlett took her hand.
“Of course we do,” Tandy argued. “We all loved Lynnie. He might not even be here—”
“He’s not,” Scarlett said. “Not yet. Dad’s been on the lookout for him.”
Tandy looked at her. “Why? If I remember correctly, Uncle Woodrow was never very fond of Click.”
Renata snorted. “Understatement of the year.”
“But, now that Lynnie’s gone, what will happen to her property?” Scarlett asked.
Tandy frowned. “The land?” She sighed. “Lynnie’s been gone, what, three days? Uncle Woodrow’s already worrying over her land?” Of course he was. That was the way he worked.
Scarlett wrinkled her nose. “If Mr. Wallace bought this place, Dad would have a heart attack.”
Knowing her uncle Woodrow, that was probably true. Woodrow Boone, Scarlett’s father, was...prickly. He excelled at voicing his opinion loudly and being contrary. Still, Tandy respected her uncle. What he lacked in charm he made up for with determination. If he was determined to keep Lynnie’s place from falling into Vic Wallace’s possession, nothing would get in his way.
Apparently, that was something that hadn’t changed in Fort Kyle: Woodrow Boone v. Vic Wallace feud. The patriarchs of the two largest West Texas ranching families kept things civil in public—barely. The two men disagreed on everything. From cattle—Wallace’s Angus versus Uncle Woodrow’s Hereford—to fences—Wallace’s stone versus Boone’s traditional wood and wire—if they could find a way to disagree, they did.
Tandy had always thought Lynnie’s place the prettiest in the region. The natural spring that bubbled up cold and clean was a huge bonus in the dry, arid landscape. But there was more to it than access to water. Lynnie’s property was wedged between the Boones’ and Wallaces’—a hot and arid Texas Switzerland between two warring families. And since Lynnie had outlived three husbands with no children to pass the land on to—
“Click will inherit,” Tandy whispered, that realization making the tight grip on her control slip.
“Poor Click,” Renata whispered.
“That’s what Dad’s waiting on.” Scarlett shrugged.
Tandy leaned against the piano. Would he sell or stay? This place had been special to them all once, but now...
Renata glanced at Tandy with unfiltered sympathy. “I guess Click selling is what we want? I’d think having him around would be challenging.”
Renata’s words cut her deep. “I want him to be happy.” That hadn’t changed. But, yes, having him around would be challenging. Especially since she’d planned on making Fort Kyle home for a while.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Scarlett asked. “If he shows up, I mean?”
Tandy forced a smile. “I’m fine. Completely and totally.” Which was a complete and total lie. Neither of them knew the extent of the damage between her and Click, and she intended to keep it that way. No point dragging that nightmare out into the open for everyone to suffer through.
“As long as you’re sure.” But Scarlett didn’t look convinced.
“We’re here for Lynnie.” Tandy looked at them both, hoping her voice didn’t give away just how hard it was to say his name. “Click is your friend. I don’t want that to change because of me. He’ll need friends right now, so you should be there for him.” She meant it.
She saw the doubtful look Scarlett and Renata exchanged.
“Tandy, Lynnie loved my pineapple upside-down cake,” Miss Francis, Lynnie’s dearest friend, said. “Had to bring some. You mind cutting some old ladies a piece?”
Tandy smiled, l
eading Miss Francis into the kitchen. “Not at all. Not that I see any old ladies around.”
“Don’t know what we’ll do without her. She knew how to keep things organized—and the menfolk in line.” The woman sniffed, pressing a hankie to her nose.
“She had plenty of practice with that,” a deep voice said from the doorway. “Keeping the menfolk in line.”
Tandy didn’t have to look to know who was talking. She knew. Her reaction to him was the same. Her heart kicked into overdrive, and every inch of her seemed to tighten. Until the cold set in, soaking up everything until she was numb. It was easier that way.
“As I live and breathe, Click, look at you,” the woman gushed. “Does an old heart like mine good to see you here today.”
“Good to see you, too, Miss Francis.”
Tandy sliced into the pineapple upside-down cake, putting pieces on the flowered dessert plates she’d pulled from Lynnie’s china cabinet. Her hands were shaking, but there was nothing she could do about it. If she looked at him, it would be worse. So much worse. She wiped her palms on a kitchen towel and put the plates on a serving tray.
Any minute now he’d say something to her and she’d have to acknowledge him. She’d have to look at him, smile and act like seeing him didn’t drag her straight back into the hell she’d been living in for the last two years. The hell she’d only just managed to bottle up and bury deep inside.
The silence in the kitchen grew thick and heavy, pressing in until she almost bolted from the kitchen. No more running. She swallowed, picked up the tray of cake slices and headed for the door.
“Click,” she said, as close as she could come to a greeting. She slipped through the kitchen door, holding her breath when she brushed past him. Her lungs were aching by the time she reached the parlor and Lynnie’s waiting guests. Even as she said his name, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She was stronger now, but not that strong.
* * *
CLICK WANTED TO punch something. Over and over. Until the pain in his hand overshadowed the pain in his chest. Which would never happen. He wasn’t sure he could do this. Hell, he’d arrived here feeling that way, barely treading water. That was before he’d known Tandy was here.
Cowboy Lullaby (The Boones 0f Texas Book 6) Page 1