WILDERS OF WYATT COUNTY: Their hearts are as big as the wide-open Wyoming sky.
Letter to Reader
Title Page
Books by Janis Reams Hudson
JANIS REAMS HUDSON
The Wilders and the Randalls
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Copyright
WILDERS OF WYATT COUNTY:
Their hearts are as big as the
wide-open Wyoming sky.
Ace Wilder had always seemed so sure of himself.
But now he looked as though he needed someone to cradle and comfort him, and Belinda wished with all her heart that someone was she.
“Belinda, I...”
“Shh.” She pressed her fingertips to his lips, stilling whatever it was Ace had been about to say. Then she slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his shoulder. “Don’t say anything.”
He didn’t. Ace wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rested his cheek against the top of her head. His breath came out in a long, quiet sigh. It wasn’t the sigh so much as the quiet, trusting way he rested his cheek against her head that tore a hole through Belinda’s heart and left it gaping.
The truth rushed out and swamped her. She was in love with Ace!
Dear Reader,
This September, you may find yourself caught up in the hustle and bustle of a new school year. But as a sensational stress buster, we have an enticing fall lineup for you to pamper yourself with. Each month, we offer six brand-new romances about people just like you—trying to find the perfect balance between life, career, family and love
For starters, check out Their Other Mother by Jams Reams Hudson—a feisty THAT SPECIAL WOMAN! butts head with a gorgeous, ornery father of three. This also marks the debut of this author’s engaging new miniseries, WILDERS OF WATTY COUNTY.
Sherryl Woods continues her popular series AND BABY MAKERS THREE: THE NEXT VENERATION with an entertaining story about a rodeo champ who becomes victim to his matchmaking daughter in Suddenly, Annie’s Father And for those of you who treasure stories about best-friends-turned-lovers, don’t miss That First Special Kiss by Gina Wilkins, book two in her FAMILY FOUND. SONS AND DAUGHTERS series.
In Celebrate the Child by Amy Framer, a military man becomes an integral part of his precious little girl’s life—as well as that of her sweet-natured adopted mom. And when a secret agent takes on the role of daddy, he discovers the family of his dreams in Jane Toombs’s Designated Daddy. Finally, watch for A Cowboy’s Code by talented newcomer Alaina Starr, who spins a compelling love story set in the hard-driving West.
I hope you enjoy these six emotional romances created by women like you, for women like you!
Sincerely,
Karen Taylor Richman
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to;
Silhouette Reader Service
U S. 3010 Walden Ave., PO. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian PO. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
JANIS REAMS HUDSON
THEIR OTHER MOTHER
Books by Janis Reams Hudson
Silhouette Special Edition
Resist Me If You Can #1037
The Mother of His Son #1095
His Daughter’s Laughter #1105
Until You #1210
*Their Other Mother #1267
*Wilders of Wyatt County
JANIS REAMS HUDSON
was born in California, grew up in Colorado, lived in Texas for a few years and now calls central Oklahoma home. She is the author of more than twenty-five novels, both contemporary and historical romances. Her books have appeared on the Waldenbooks, B. Dalton and Bookrack bestseller lists and earned numerous awards, including the National Readers’ Choice Award and Reviewers’ Choice awards from Romantic Times Magazine. She is a three-time finalist for the coveted RITA Award from Romance Writers of America and is a past president of RWA.
The Wilders and the Randalls
WILDERS OF WYATT COUNTY—
Their hearts are as big as the wide-open Wyoming sky
Chapter One
Ace Wilder heard tires crunching on gravel outside the back door and wondered who would be pulling up to the house. Most people knew enough to park at the barn or the stables if they wanted somebody in the middle of the day.
Ace carried his sandwich to the back door to look out. Eating on the move with his entire meal in one hand had become a fact of life lately around the Flying Ace Ranch. Things had gone to hell in a hand-basket since Aunt Mary left. Maybe when Elaine got here later in the week things would smooth out some. His mother-in-law was a born caretaker. Just like Cathy had been.
The pain had eased during the past two years. He could think of his late wife now without feeling like his insides were being ripped out. He had even learned to say the phrase, “Cathy is dead,” without flinching.
Cathy’s mother was coming to take care of the boys while Ace looked around for a housekeeper to handle everything Aunt Mary used to do. Not that Ace had the slightest idea where he would find such a person in Wyatt County, Wyoming. Every woman he knew—at least the ones he would trust with his sons—had her own house to keep, her own children to raise or had already done those things and was too old to want to do them again for someone else.
It was a good thing Elaine was planning on staying the whole summer. Ace had a feeling it was going to take him at least that long to find someone who could handle his three little hellions, without bloodshed or permanent psychological damage on either side.
Someone who could cook, he thought, taking another bite of his stale sandwich.
Thinking more about his stomach than about why someone would be pulling up at the back of the house, Ace nudged open the screen door with his shoulder and stepped onto the back porch.
It wasn’t the fancy red sports car with Colorado tags that had every muscle in his body suddenly tightening in protest, it was the woman climbing out of it. Ye gods and little fishes. The Wicked Witch of the West—in the flesh. Nice flesh, he admitted. But then, he’d been told that a porcupine had nice flesh, too, underneath all those quills.
Just the sight of this woman tightened his gut and made him groan.
Belinda Randall was as sleek and long-legged as any woman had a right to be, and then some, but he wouldn’t say she was restful on the eyes. There was nothing restful about her. Her short black hair might be ordinary enough, but the sun struck fiery streaks through it that spoke of heat, of sheer energy. Her gray eyes were as changeable as the weather, dark as thunderheads one minute, soft as morning fog the next. And that lower lip of hers could smile or pout in the blink of an eye. She was all perpetual motion, restless energy, fire. And, Cathy’s sister or not, she was a royal pain in the backside.
“Tell me you’re lost,” he said to her, making every effort to keep from grinding his teeth. “Please, tell me you’re lost.”
“In your dreams, Wilder.” She shook her head slowly and smirked. “I’m here on purpose.”
Ace let out a breath. “A nightmare, then.”
“You got that right.” She slammed the car door and propped her hands on her hips. “My nightmare.”
Ace leaned against the porch post “You’re too late. We finished castrating last week. But then, we only castrate calves around here, anyway, so maybe you wouldn’t have enjoyed it.”
She gave one sharp nod of her head. “The war’s still on, then. Battle lines d
rawn. Suits me just fine, cowboy—”
“That’s ‘rancher’ to you.”
“—but you might get tired of it before I do. I’m here for the duration.”
“What duration?” With a whole new regard for how the passengers on the Titanic must have felt upon being told the ship was sinking, Ace straightened away from the porch post. “Why are you here?”
Oh, she did enjoy that wary look on his face, Belinda decided. If she had to put herself in his vicinity for the next several weeks, she wanted him just as miserable and irritated as she was.
She was already over that first hard jolt that struck her each time she saw him again on one of her infrequent visits to this big, empty corner of the world. She didn’t like that nasty jolt, didn’t like him, but both were facts of life.
No man should be allowed to look like Ace Wilder. No face that rugged should be considered handsome. He had a slight bump on the bridge of his nose, deep grooves bracketing a mouth that was usually set in a hard, unforgiving line, white lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes, with a crescent-shaped scar beside the right one. But handsome he was. Breathtakingly so. She’d always wondered why that fact irritated her so much.
Belinda could easily imagine her younger sister taking one look at this six-foot package of lean male muscle, with those Wilder blue eyes and coal-black hair just long enough to intrigue, and tumbling headfirst into love with him. Which was exactly what Cathy had done.
Cathy had been naive that way.
Belinda wasn’t. She didn’t like Ace Wilder, not one little bit. No man should be that cocksure of himself. But she was here, and there was no getting around it.
“I’m here because my mother blackmailed me, and I’m here for the summer or until you hire someone to take care of my nephews, whichever comes first.”
Ace eyed her like a man eyeing a rattler coiled to strike. “The hell you say. Where’s Elaine?”
A wild whoop from the corner of the house cut off her answer. “Aunt Binda! Hey, guys, it’s Aunt Binda!”
Belinda turned and braced herself just in time to keep from being knocked flat by the high-speed impact of four sturdy young bodies—three boys and a scruffy yellow mutt the size of a small sofa. They were loud, they were dirty, and they smelled suspiciously like something a person should scrape off the bottom of a shoe before stepping indoors. And Belinda loved them so much—the boys, at least, the verdict was still out on the dog—that she ached with it. They were the sweetest, dearest beings on earth. Despite the elbows and knees jabbing her more-tender places, she hugged them close.
“Oh, my.” With a huge grin, she stared down at the three most adorable faces on the planet. Adorable despite being the spitting image of their father, whom she utterly detested. “Who are you guys? What have you done with my nephews?”
“Aw, Aunt Binda.” Jason, the oldest at six, grinned and socked her in the arm.
“Jason,” Ace said tersely. “What’s the rule?”
“Uh-oh.” Four-year-old Clay grinned at Jason.
“Aw, Dad,” Jason whined. “It was just a little one.”
“What’s the rule?” Ace repeated.
Jason heaved a sigh. “Boys don’t hit girls.”
“What’s the rest of it?” Ace demanded quietly.
Jason sighed again. “Ever. Boys don’t hit girls, ever. I’m sorry, Aunt Binda. I forgot. I didn’t mean to hit you.”
Belinda wanted to protest. It had been just a friendly tap on the arm from a six-year-old, for heaven’s sake. It wasn’t as if he’d tried to hurt her. But the look on Ace’s face made her think better of interfering with the way he disciplined his own children. It really wasn’t her place to criticize. At least not yet, and not in front of the boys.
“Apology accepted,” she told Jason. Then she grinned again. “But I’d still like to know what you’ve done with my nephews. Where are they?”
“Aw, gee,” Jason said, his good humor restored. “You know it’s us.”
“Nope.” Belinda shook her head. “You look like Jason, but you’re too big.”
“I grew!”
“It’s really us, Aunt Binda.” Clay jumped up and down on Belinda’s toes. “Honest!”
Belinda squinted down at him. “Oh, yeah? Well, then, you must be Clayton. But who’s this fellow?” She hoisted two-year-old Grant onto her hip. Surely a two-year-old wouldn’t notice that her hands were suddenly shaking. He was the child who shouldn’t have been. The child her sister gave her life for. Because of that, maybe Belinda loved him just a little bit extra.
Oh, how he’d grown! She’d seen him a mere six months ago, but he’d changed so much. They all had. Her throat tightened with emotion at how much of his life—of all their lives—she had missed.
“That’s Grant,” Jason said, laughing.
“He was just a baby last time you saw us,” Clay told her.
The boy on her hip nodded. “I Grant. I used to be a baby, but I’s big now.”
“You sure are,” Belinda told him.
“Did you come to stay with us?” Jason asked. “Did Grandma come with you?”
“Yes,” Belinda said, “and no.”
“Huh?”
Belinda laughed. “Yes, I came to stay with you, but no, Grandma didn’t come with me. She got sick and couldn’t come, but she sends her love.”
Jason looked up at her with a sober expression. “Did she die, like our mother?”
That fast, Belinda’s eyes stung. A giant fist squeezed her heart. “Oh, no, honey.” She dropped to her knees and hugged him, then pulled all three boys into her embrace. “No, Grandma didn’t die. She just got a nasty ol’ case of pneumonia, that’s all. The doctors gave her medicine and she’s getting all better. She just has to stay home and rest, and pretty soon she’ll be as good as new, I promise.”
“Can we send her a get-well card?” Clay asked cheerfully.
Leave it to Clay. Nothing could squash his spirit for long. “She would like that very much.”
“Will you help us make it?” Jason, too, was now smiling again.
“You betcha,” Belinda told him. “We can even e-mail her some virtual flowers.”
The boys’ eyes rounded.
“Grandma’s got e-mail?” Jason breathed. “Really?”
“Really.”
“What’s virgil fowlers?” Clay wanted to know.
Belinda chuckled. “It’s virtual flowers, and I’ll show you later.”
Ace sauntered over and stood beside them. It irritated Belinda to no end that he couldn’t just walk, like a normal man. He sauntered. There was no other word to describe that slow, deliberate, long-legged movement that probably sent the hearts of weakwilled women—which Belinda definitely was not— fluttering all over Wyoming. No other word but saunter. Unless it was mosey. Or maybe strut.
“Okay, boys,” he said to his sons. “Weren’t you going to clean out the chicken house today?”
“Aw, Dad.” Clay grinned. Clay grinned at everything.
Jason’s eyes twinkled, but his smile barely curved his lips. “Aw, Dad.”
“Aw, Dad,” Grant mimicked.
“Go on, now, so I can talk to Aunt Belinda. And try to make it back to the house with a few eggs this time, will ya?” Ace ruffled the hair on the two tallest boys and winked at Grant.
“We always make it back with eggs,” Jason protested. “Lots of eggs.”
“And most of them are broken by the time you get them to the house,” Ace reminded. “They’re food, not ammunition.”
“Aw, Dad,” Jason said, his grin spreading wider. “You take all the fun out of everything.”
“I’ll take all the fun out of you,” Ace said in a mock treat
With a shriek of giggles, all three boys unlatched themselves from Belinda’s legs and dashed out of sight around the corner of the house, the dog barking excitedly as he raced after them.
Ace watched them go, his gaze lingering until they disappeared. The instant they were out of ear
shot, he folded his arms across his chest and turned back to Belinda. “Elaine was fine when I talked to her last week.”
“She wasn’t fine. She’s been sick for weeks and lying to all of us because she wanted to come here and spend the summer with her grandsons.” Belinda stopped, then frowned. “Don’t you think the boys are a little young to be taking on ranch chores?”
Ace counted slowly to ten. Then he started over and did it again before he trusted himself to speak. “No, I don’t think they’re too young to have what amounts to an Easter egg hunt every day. And that’s the last time I ever want to hear you question how I raise my sons. What do you mean she’s been sick for weeks?”
“Just what I said. Do you have hay in your ears?”
“To blazes with this.”
“Manure, more likely.”
“If I want a straight answer, I guess I’ll have to call her myself.” He turned to go, aiming to get away from this woman who had the rare ability to make him tense, irritable, and downright angry. He was usually none of those things. Only with Belinda.
Long, elegant fingers with short, unpolished nails latched on to his wrist like a steel handcuff. “Don’t you dare call her. She needs her rest. She just got out of the hospital yesterday.”
Ace stopped and eyed his sister-in-law over his shoulder. “She really had pneumonia?”
“Yes.” She didn’t so much let go of his arm as toss it away. “She kept saying it was just a cold, that she’d be over it before she came up here. She must have known it was worse than that, because she wouldn’t even agree to see a doctor until I promised her I would come up here and take care of the boys if she wasn’t able.”
Their Other Mother Page 1