by Kim Redford
Like her aunt now, Lauren intended to enjoy a long life so she could be there for her family and friends. She had a lot of reasons to be grateful this evening. Hedy was already stronger and happier in just a matter of days. Hannah had blossomed like the early daffodils. And Kent had given her, as well as Hannah, unconditional love. She had a long list of folks who’d helped make her return a success, and she appreciated each and every one of them. For the moment, she simply stood with her hands on the white railing and enjoyed the beauty of the evening.
As she took a deep breath of the sweet-smelling air, she heard the front door open. She glanced around and felt her breath catch in her throat. Kent stood in front of the pink door, smiling at her and looking more handsome than ever. He wore a charcoal-gray Western suit with a crimson snap shirt and a turquoise thunderbird bolo tie with black cowboy boots.
“Miss me?” He gave her a dimpled grin along with a gleam in his bright hazel eyes.
“Were you gone?” she teased, knowing her gaze held the same gleam as his eyes. As much as she was enjoying the party and meeting folks, she really just wanted to be alone with her love.
He chuckled at her words, then walked over and looked across the balcony. “Good party, huh?”
“Wonderful. Your mom is just as amazing as I remember.”
“Good thing she took my house in hand and made sure it was presentable.”
Lauren laughed as she shook her head. “You never were the neatest boy in town.”
He laughed harder. “That’s an understatement.” He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. “But I’m willing to reform for you.”
“And Hannah. We don’t want her learning bad habits, and she’ll do exactly what you do.”
“I hadn’t even thought about how kids learn more from what we do than what we say.”
“And you never know what will strike their fancy and stick.”
“Lots of good stuff sticks in Wildcat Bluff, doesn’t it?”
“So true.” She wanted Hannah to learn from the best, so she’d definitely brought her daughter to the right place.
“Where’s the little minx?”
“She went off with Billye Jo and Hedy. They were laughing and whispering about some secret.” Lauren squeezed Kent’s arm as she looked up at him. “What is so wonderful is that my daughter feels perfectly safe and secure with them.”
“And she’s safe enough for you to let go a bit.”
Lauren nodded, thinking about it. “I didn’t want to let Hannah out of my sight in Houston. I felt more and more like a hovering helicopter mother. But I still wanted her to grow in strength and independence.”
“You couldn’t take a chance there.” He motioned toward the party. “We won’t take chances here either, but Hannah will grow up with a wide circle of supportive friends and relatives.”
“Just like we did.”
“Yep.”
She leaned into his warmth as she continued to watch the party from her vantage point. She saw Bert and Bert Two talking with three strangers as they moved closer to the house. “Who are those guys?” She nodded in their direction.
Kent took a look. “Mom invited them. They must be visiting the Holloways.”
“Do you know them?”
“Yeah.”
“And?” Lauren couldn’t help but appreciate the tall, good-looking guys around her age with dark hair and muscular bodies. They walked with a definite Texas swagger that spoke of confidence and power.
“They’re the Tarleton brothers out of East Texas.”
“Single? Married? Engaged?” She grew more curious at Kent’s reluctance to discuss them.
“Single. And they’ve got a rep with the ladies.”
“No wonder.” She leaned forward to get a better look. “Cowboys?”
“Ranchers. They’ve got a big family spread where they run cattle and horses. But they’re into oil and gas, too. Their great-granddaddy was a wildcatter and friends with Dad Joiner. You know Joiner brought in the Daisy Bradford gusher that started the East Texas oil field back in the thirties.”
“I didn’t know it, but that’s interesting.”
“Bottom line in dealing with the Tarletons is that they’re wildcatters at heart. And that includes their sister.”
“Is she here?”
“Doubt it. She’s got a popular Western line of clothes that keeps her busy.”
“Really?” Lauren grew more interested in the family all the time.
“What I wonder is why they’re so far afield,” Kent said thoughtfully. “Maybe they’ve got a business deal going with the Holloways.”
“That’d be good for the county, wouldn’t it?”
“Remains to be seen.” Kent squeezed her hand. “They’re volunteer firefighters, so maybe they’re giving Bert and Bert Two some pointers about protecting their property.”
Lauren chuckled as a funny thought struck her. “Are you saying they’re wildcatter cowboy firefighters or just cowboy wildcatters or—”
“Nope.” Kent sighed and glanced down at her. “Guess I’m feeling territorial. Fact of the matter, they’re Cherokee to our Comanche. Now will you let it go?”
She chuckled at his jealous frown. “Give me a kiss and I’ll forget all about them.”
He caught her face between his hands and slowly leaned toward her while he traced her face with his gaze as if he would memorize her features to carry with him for always. When his hot mouth touched her lips, she felt an instant sizzle that spread outward to engulf her entire body with flames.
When he raised his head, his eyes were lit with a fire that rivaled the setting sun in brilliance. “Lauren,” he said in a voice thick with emotion as he put his right hand in his pocket. “There’s something I want—”
“All right, folks!” Morning Glory hollered as the band went silent. “We’ve got somebody who wants to say a few words.” She gestured toward the side of the farmhouse.
“What’s going on?” Lauren asked as she leaned over the railing and looked where Morning Glory had pointed with her tambourine.
Three equestrians dressed in bright Western outfits emerged from the long shadow cast by the house. As they walked their horses toward the center of the party, revelers fell back and then surrounded them until the riders were the center of attention.
“Oh my,” Lauren whispered as her eyes filled with tears at the sight of Hedy, Hannah, and Billye Jo on horseback.
Kent glanced down at her and grinned big enough to show his dimples.
“You knew?”
“Mom and Dad planned it with them.” He clasped her hand and entwined their fingers. “We all wanted to surprise you.”
“Me?”
“Just wait.” He pointed toward Hedy. “She’s wearing Morning Glory’s soaring eagle necklace that I finally got around to giving her.”
“Looks perfect.” Lauren clasped her own macramé necklace, smiling at the thought that pretty soon everybody would be wearing one.
Hedy raised her bright-red cowgirl hat and waved it around in a circle over her head. “It’s yeehaw time!” She pointed around the group with a hand in a showy red leather-fringed glove. “Let’s hear it!”
As a wave of yeehaws washed over the party, up on the balcony, and around the ranch, Lauren put a hand over her heart, feeling an upsurge of love and appreciation for the folks of Wildcat Bluff.
Hedy put her hat back on her head and the crowd grew quiet in anticipation. “I guess y’all are seeing a sight you never thought you’d see again—namely me riding a horse!”
Again, a wave of yeehaws floated across Cougar Ranch.
“I owe it all to my niece Lauren Sheridan for equine-assisted therapy.” She pointed toward Lauren.
Still with her hand over her heart, Lauren bowed her head to the audience, feeling almost overcome with emot
ion.
“As well as to this magnificent horse named Chancy Boy who received special training from none other than Sure-Shot’s famous horse trainer Billye Jo Simmons.” She made a wide gesture toward the horsewoman with one hand while the other remained clutching the pommel.
Billye Jo bowed in her saddle as the crowd went even wilder with enthusiastic yeehaws.
“I’d be remiss if I didn’t include my very own grand-niece, Hannah Sheridan, who encourages me as she learns to ride her first pony.”
Hannah raised her pink cowgirl hat with a sparkling rhinestone tiara in place of a hatband and grinned from ear to ear.
“We’re here tonight,” Hedy continued, “to ask your help in funding a center for equine-assisted therapy right here in Wildcat Bluff County. I’m living proof that it works. And we’re perfectly positioned in the middle of horse and cattle country to provide the best of the best for those in special need.”
Again, a round of yeehaws filled the party with wild clapping and nodding of heads in agreement.
“We’re gonna pass the hat, folks, so be generous.”
Bert stepped out of the crowd and up to Hedy, grinning big as you please. “If you’ll allow me, I’ll be pleased to pass my hat and be the first to donate to this excellent cause.”
Hedy grinned back at him. “Bert Holloway, you’re making this county proud.”
Bert quickly took off his silver-gray cowboy hat and held it over his heart. “If you’ll allow me to show you my bluebird collection, I’ll be the happiest man in the county.”
Hedy laughed at his words, nodding her head. “I may just have to take you up on that offer.”
“It’d be my honor.”
She winked at him before she looked back at the crowd. “Okay, folks! Bert is bringing around his ten-gallon hat, so fill it up for a good cause.”
Lauren could hardly believe her eyes, and yet nothing could have made her happier than to see her aunt and daughter together. She looked up at Kent. “Thank you. I want to tell your mom and dad how much this means to me.”
“There’ll be plenty of time later.” He glanced toward the pink door. “Right now I want you to come inside.”
“And leave the party?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d just as soon the whole county didn’t see me down on my knees.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Not one bit.” He clasped her fingers in a tight grasp, tugged her across the porch’s wooden floor, and shut the door behind them.
“This better be good,” she said, wondering what had gotten into him. “I want to congratulate our riders before they take their horses back to the barn. I know Hedy and Hannah can’t stay on horseback long at this stage of their training, so I need to hurry back.”
“They’re fine. Billye Jo is watching over them.” Kent put his hand in his pocket, dropped to his knee, and looked up at her with a mischievous smile.
“What are you—”
“Lauren, I love you more than ever. I love Hannah as if she were my very own daughter.”
Tears of happiness filled Lauren’s eyes as she looked down at the man who’d held her heart since she was sweet sixteen.
“Will you marry me?”
“Oh, yes—a million times yes.”
He held up his closed hand and opened it to reveal a shiny ring nestled in the center of his palm. “I’ve kept this ring for you these past thirteen years. It’s got a little diamond, but it’s all I could afford back then.”
“Oh, Kent, I love you so much. And I’d love nothing more than to be your wife and for you to be Hannah’s Cowboy Daddy.” She put her hands on his shoulders and urged him to stand up. When he did, she held out her left hand, palm down.
“I’ll get you something big and shiny, if you want, but in my heart this one has always been yours.” He slipped the ring onto her third finger.
“Only this ring will do,” she said, smiling happily, “because it represents our love that will last a lifetime.”
Acknowledgments
I’d like to extend my appreciation to Jane Archer for her excellent Native American history and mythology book, Texas Indian Myths and Legends, for the Comanche information and myths used in writing Blazing Hot Cowboy.
Special thanks go to Donna, Darmond, Christina, Brandon, and Buckley for our inspirational research trip deep into the Kiamichi Mountains to visit legendary Medicine Springs and see Gilbert Jones’s famous mustangs.
About the Author
Kim Redford is an acclaimed author of Western romance novels. She grew up in Texas with cowboys, cowgirls, horses, cattle, and rodeos for inspiration. She divides her time between homes in Texas and Oklahoma, where she’s a rescue cat wrangler and horseback rider—when she takes a break from her keyboard. Visit her at kimredford.com.
Please enjoy this excerpt from bestselling author Kari Lynn Dell’s
Chapter 1
Delon Sanchez woke up pissed off at the world. No different from every other morning in the past four months. But for Delon—proud owner of the fan-voted Best Smile in Pro Rodeo—it was like being trapped inside someone else’s skin. And that guy was turning out to be an asshole.
He made a fist and beat on his pillow, as if he could pound the dreams out of it. Those stupid, pointless dreams where he hadn’t been hurt right at the end of the best rodeo season of his life, and didn’t feel his shot at a world title disintegrate along with the ligaments in his knee. The dreams where he went on to the National Finals Rodeo and walked away with the gold buckle, heavy and warm and so damn real he could still feel the shape of it when he woke up.
Empty-handed.
He jammed his fist into the pillow again. His subconscious was a cruel bastard, and a whiner on top of it. An injury yanked the trapdoor out from under some cowboy’s gold buckle dream every year. That was rodeo. Hell, that was life. Delon was no special flower that fate had singled out to trample.
He flopped onto his back. A spider sneered at him from the corner of the ceiling, lounging on its web. He was tempted to reach down, grab a boot, and fling it. The way his luck was running he’d just miss, and it’d bounce off and black his eye. He stuffed his hands behind his head with a gloomy sigh. They should have drawn a chalk outline in the arena where he’d fallen, because the man who’d climbed down into the bucking chute that night was nowhere to be found.
He’d disappeared in the twenty-two seconds from the nod of his head to the moment of impact.
Twenty-two seconds.
He’d timed it on the video out of morbid curiosity. Less than a minute before the paramedics jammed a tube down his throat and reinflated the lung that’d been punctured when the horse trampled him, wiping out his knee and busting two ribs.
In that short time, his entire world had disintegrated.
Either that or it had been an illusion all along. But that was his fault. He’d let himself want too much, dream too big. Other people could reach up, grab the world by the throat, and make demands. Every time Delon tried, he got kicked in the teeth.
Whiner.
He flipped the spider the bird, kicked off the blankets, and got up. Time to dress for another of the increasingly frustrating therapy sessions that only emphasized his lack of progress. He had plateaued, his therapist kept saying, trying to make it sound like a temporary setback. And now she’d gotten married and run off—to Missouri, of all the damn places, as if there were no good men left in Texas—forcing him to absorb yet another in a barrage of unwelcome changes.
But hey, maybe this new therapist had the magic touch that would give him back his life. Or at least his career.
He slipped down the back stairs, escaping his apartment above the shop at Sanchez Trucking without seeing a soul, but had to stop at the Kwicky Mart for gas. With only two thousand people in Earnest, Texas, the face at the next pump was bound to be familiar.
And it would have to be Hank. At nineteen, the kid was a worse gossip than the old men down at the Corral Café. He hopped out of the family ranch pickup, so nimble Delon wanted to kick him. “Hey, Delon. How’s the knee feelin’?”
“Fine.” Delon turned his back, hunching his shoulders against the bitter January breeze as he jammed the gas nozzle into the tank of what his big brother jeeringly called his mom car. Well, screw Gil. If the elder Sanchez had paid more attention to safety ratings, he wouldn’t have thrown away the brilliant, God-given talent most cowboys—including Delon—could only dream of.
Hank lounged against the side of his dad’s one-ton dually while it guzzled four-dollar diesel like sweet tea. “Looks like it’s gettin’ pretty serious between Violet and Joe. Think they’ll get married?”
Delon made a noncommittal noise and mashed harder on the gas nozzle. Short answer? Nope. Joe Cassidy would be gone when the shine wore off, back to Oregon. Bad enough he’d leave Violet in pieces, but there’d be one brokenhearted little boy, too. Delon’s boy. Until now, Delon had just shrugged and laughed at Violet’s dating disasters. She couldn’t seem to help herself, so he might as well just let her get it out of her system—but she’d never brought her disasters home to their son before.
Beni worshipped Joe. So did every bull rider in the pro ranks—for good reason. As a bullfighter, Joe’s job was to save them from getting stomped, and he was damn good at it. Playing the hero made him hugely popular with the buckle bunnies, and it was no secret that Joe had accepted plenty of what the rodeo groupies offered. So, no. Delon didn’t think Joe was the marrying kind.
A red Grand Am whipped around the corner and the little blonde Didsworth girl—Mary Kate?—distracted Hank with a smile and a finger wave. He returned it with a cocky grin. “I hear she’s got a thing for bullfighters.”
“Don’t they all?” Delon muttered.
Even Violet. And she should know better, being a stock contractor’s daughter. What was it with women, lusting after men dumb enough to throw their bodies in front of large, pissed-off farm animals? Sure, it was exciting, but the long-term career prospects were not great. Said the guy who got a knee reconstruction for his twenty-ninth birthday.