It Started with a Cowboy

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It Started with a Cowboy Page 1

by Jennie Marts




  Also by Jennie Marts

  Cowboys of Creedence

  Caught Up in a Cowboy

  You Had Me at Cowboy

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  Books. Change. Lives.

  Copyright © 2019 by Jennie Marts

  Cover and internal design © 2019 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover design by Dawn Adams/Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover image © Rob Lang Photography

  Emoticons © popicon/Shutterstock

  Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Sourcebooks, Inc., is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.

  Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410

  (630) 961-3900

  sourcebooks.com

  Contents

  Front Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Excerpt from Caught Up in a Cowboy

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Back Cover

  This book is dedicated to my sons:

  Tyler & Nick

  There aren’t enough words to express

  How much I love you both

  —Never give up on your dreams—

  Chapter 1

  Fluffy flakes of snow swirled against the window as Chloe Bishop raced into the kitchen and grabbed the travel mug of coffee she’d set to autobrew at exactly 7:00 a.m. Several inches had already accumulated, but it was too late for the school district to call a snow day. A few of her students would most likely be absent or late today, but dealing with snow and cold was a normal part of life in the small mountain town of Creedence, Colorado.

  “Fudge nuggets,” she swore as a bit of coffee splashed over the edge of the mug and splattered across the counter. She didn’t have time for this, but she grabbed a paper towel and quickly swabbed at the mess anyway. Nothing in her DNA would allow her to leave the house in disarray—even if she was running late.

  Which she also did not do. Not usually. And this morning, she should have had plenty of time, had she not stepped out of bed and into a squishy pile of cat vomit. Hauling out the steam cleaner and dealing with the disaster had eaten away twenty minutes of valuable currency in the measured moments of her morning routine.

  She tossed the soiled paper towel into the trash, then poured a perfectly measured scoop of kibble into a bowl for Agatha, the carpet-contaminating culprit. Stuffing her feet into her snow boots, Chloe caught a glimpse of red out the window.

  Rubbing at the thin layer of frost, she peered through the pane and sighed, her heart breaking as she saw Madison Johnson, one of her third-grade students, standing ankle-deep in the snow and awkwardly brandishing a broom as she tried to clean the snow off her mother’s car. Her scuffed sneakers had to be soaked through, and Chloe recognized the thin winter coat as the same one Maddie’s brother had worn a few years before. Her blond hair was pulled up on either side of her head in uneven ponytails.

  Chloe leaned out the front door, her cheeks tingling with the bracing cold as she called to the girl, “Just leave it, Maddie. I’ll give you a ride to school.”

  “I got it, Teach,” Tina Johnson, her neighbor and Maddie’s mom, yelled, her voice carrying the slightest slur as she stumbled out onto her front porch.

  That hint of a slur hit Chloe like a punch to the gut, taking her back in time to the sound of her father’s voice. She gripped the doorjamb for support.

  Stop it. Those days were over. She wasn’t a child anymore. And her father was gone. He couldn’t hurt her anymore.

  She let out her breath, and it shimmered in the air as a shiver coursed down her back.

  It was freezing out here, and Tina wasn’t dressed much warmer than her daughter in a denim jean jacket over a pair of mismatched flannel pajamas. At least she had on a tattered pair of snow boots. And maybe it wasn’t a slur. Maybe Tina had just woken up, and her tone was still tinged with sleepiness. Chloe hated to judge, but she wasn’t taking a chance on Maddie getting in the car with her mom if she’d been drinking.

  “It’s okay, Tina,” Chloe called back. “It’s no bother for me to take her. I’m going to the school anyway.”

  The woman yawned and nodded. “Okay, if you’re sure. If not, I can take her,” she said, but she was already turning and heading back into the house.

  “I’m sure,” Chloe said to Tina’s retreating back as she waved Madison up to her porch. “Come on in, honey. I just need to grab my bag, then we can go.”

  The girl dropped the broom and scrambled through the snow-covered front lawn, a smile spread across her rosy-cheeked face. “Thanks, Ms. Bishop,” she said, stomping her feet on the mat before clambering inside.

  “Where’s your scarf?”

  Maddie’s smile fell as her shoulders shrank inward. “I think I left it at school,” she mumbled as she bent down to pet Agatha, who had meandered out from under the sofa to grace them with her presence.

  Chloe made it a point to knit each of her students a scarf every year, knowing that for some, it would be the only winter gear they would have. And there was a deep, inner part of her heart that knew the reason she took such good care of her students was because she worried she’d never have children of her own. She was missing the key ingredient, and going after that ingredient took guts and the kind of courage she didn’t possess.

  It was one thing to dream of getting married and creating a family; it was another thing entirely to step out of the safety of her comfort zone and go about making it a reality.

  An image of the blond cowboy she’d met that summer filled her mind, but she shoved that thought away as she pushed the door closed against the cold. Colt James was so far out of her league, they weren’t even in the same ballpark. Sure, he’d been nice
to her the few times they’d met, but he was nice to everyone, even slightly overweight grade-school teachers with mousy-brown hair.

  She let out a sigh. She didn’t have time for maudlin daydreams about cute cowboys—not when she had actual kids to take care of and a class to teach. Grabbing her down parka from the hook on the wall, she quickly pulled it on, then drew her pink scarf from her pocket and wrapped it around the small girl’s neck. “You can borrow mine for now.” She tugged the matching hat and mittens onto the girl’s head and hands. There was nothing Chloe could do about Maddie’s feet for now. There was no way her boots would fit the girl, but she added “snow boots for Maddie” to her mental list of things to look for the next time she was in the local thrift store.

  A quick glance at the wall clock told Chloe she didn’t have time to rummage for a hat and gloves for herself, but she had an extra set at school. She’d make do until she got there. Her school bag sat prepared on the bench by the door, and she hoisted it and her purse onto her shoulder.

  “Let’s go,” she said, pulling the door shut behind her and shepherding Maddie toward her car. The silver sedan had belonged to her dad. It and the house full of stuff were the only things of value she’d inherited when he’d passed away a few years back.

  She helped Maddie climb into the back seat and buckle her seat belt. Chloe had taught second grade the year before but had been moved to third grade this year, so she had several students who had remained in her class, even though they were now a year older. Maddie was one of them, and she was thankful the girl had grown enough over the summer to not have to use a booster seat.

  Grabbing the snow scraper from the back seat, she gave the car a quick brushing as she plodded back around to her side.

  She dropped the scraper in the back as she got in and rubbed her hands together before starting the car. The radio blared out a heavy metal song, the thump of the bass rumbling through the car.

  Maddie’s eyes went wide and then she cracked up. “This song is in my brother’s video game,” she said, completely oblivious to the irony of her bashful teacher jamming out to metal as she lifted her hands and did a decent air-guitar impression.

  Chloe laughed with her, doing her own head-banging impression as she switched on the wipers and defroster. The music might be out of character, and she didn’t always listen to it, but something about the powerful, thunderous rhythm could give her a boost when she needed a shot of courage. She thought herself quite clever for using a little metal when she needed a little mettle.

  Squinting through the frosty front window, she knew she should get out and completely clear the windshield of ice and snow, but the wipers had swished most of it off. She could see well enough, and besides, they were going to be even later.

  With the radio blaring and the defroster whirring at full blast, she put the car into gear, looked over her shoulder as she pulled out into the road, and crashed right into the snowplow that had just turned onto the street behind her.

  * * *

  Colton James swore as the silver car pulled out in front of him. He hit the brake, but there was nothing he could do. The car crashed right into the thick snowplow blade affixed to the front of his truck with a sickening thud.

  Well, shit. He wasn’t even supposed to be on this street. He’d been called out early this morning to help plow the school parking lot. But spending time at the school had him thinking about a certain cute, curly-haired third-grade teacher, and he’d figured as long as he was out, he could swing by her street and make sure it was plowed as well. It seemed like the neighborly thing to do.

  Not that they were neighbors. She lived in a house in town, and he lived in a cabin in the country on ranchland that his family owned. The Triple J Ranch had been in his family for years, and he, his mom, his brothers, and a slew of ranch hands ran it.

  Speaking of his brothers, Rock and Mason were going to give him a ration of crap for this debacle. Even if it wasn’t his fault. He’d been helping out the city by plowing roads for years now and hadn’t ever had an accident.

  But his mind hadn’t usually been preoccupied with a woman. A woman who’d so far only offered him bashful smiles and a few kind words.

  He swore again as he peered through the side window of the car that had hit him and saw that same woman behind the wheel. And from the frustrated look on her face, it didn’t seem like she was saying any kind words now.

  He cut the engine and grabbed his gloves as he climbed from the truck. The frigid air stung his cheeks, and he pulled up the front of his scarf and dipped his cowboy hat to protect his face from the biting wind.

  The edge of the plow was smashed into the driver’s side door, so he scrambled to the other side and yanked open the passenger door. “You guys okay?”

  A small girl blinked at him from the back seat. He recognized her as a girl in his nephew Max’s class. “We’re okay, but Ms. Bishop said a curse word.”

  “I most certainly did not,” Chloe said, leaning her head on her hands, which still clutched the steering wheel.

  “You said ‘son of a beach chair.’”

  “Which is not technically a swear word.” Chloe’s face was still buried against her fingers.

  “Then can I say it?”

  “No, you probably shouldn’t.” She pushed her bangs from her eyes as she leaned toward him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even see you.”

  “It’s okay. No harm done to me. But your car isn’t going anywhere.” He pulled the scarf down from his mouth. “But I’d be happy to give you all a ride to school.”

  Her eyes went wide as she looked up at him. “Oh, son of a nutcracker. It’s you.”

  “You did it again,” the girl helpfully pointed out.

  He tried to keep the grin from cracking his face, somehow knowing that breaking into laughter would not help the current situation. “Let’s get you out of there and into my truck. I’ve got the heat on, and it’s colder than a witch’s t—teeth out here.”

  Chloe arched an eyebrow. “Good save.” She nodded to the girl. “This is Maddie. She lives next door and is in my class. I was giving her a ride to school.”

  “Nice to meet you, Maddie. I’m Colt. I’m a friend of your teacher.” He looked down at her sneakered feet, then at the new accumulation of snow. “You’re going to get your feet even more soaked trying to walk to my truck. Why don’t you put your arms around my neck, and I’ll carry you?”

  The girl scrambled over the seat and into his arms, and Colt carried her to his truck. She weighed less than a bale of hay. “Stay right here, and don’t touch anything,” he instructed the girl. “I’ll be right back with your teacher.”

  He trekked back through the snow to where Chloe was trying to climb over the center console and into the passenger seat.

  “Son of a bacon bit. My foot is stuck,” she gasped, her body spread halfway across the seat.

  Colt leaned into the car, intent on helping, but was instead struck dizzy by the nearness of her and the honeysuckle scent of her hair. She had on black pants, which were tucked into her boots, and her coat and pink sweater had ridden up to her waist. He had the sudden urge to reach out and run his hand along the perfect curve of her butt.

  Dang. What was wrong with him? Was he looking to get slapped? He shook his head and tried to focus. He could see the problem—the heel of her boot was wedged between the crumpled door and her seat. He reached his arm out, acutely aware of how close he was to her body, and tried to tug on the top of the boot.

  “Ouch.”

  He snatched his hand back as if he’d touched a hot surface. Double dang. Now he was thinking about her body as a hot surface. “Sorry. You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine, I just can’t twist my foot in the boot.”

  “No, I think your boot’s good and stuck. Can you just pull your foot out?”

  She yanked her leg up, then fell agai
nst him, her head knocking into his chin as her foot popped free of the trapped boot.

  His arms automatically went around her, the slight bump to his chin ignored with the warm press of her body. “I got ya.”

  She held on to him for a second, then straightened up in the seat. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?” Her cheeks went as pink as her sweater.

  “No, darlin’. You did not hurt me,” he said with a light chuckle. “I’m a lot tougher than that. But you look half froze.” He guessed by the oversize accessories Maddie had on that Chloe had given the girl her scarf, hat, and mittens. His cowboy hat might not warm her head, but he could at least offer something to warm up her face and hands. He pulled his scarf free from under his coat and wrapped it around her neck. “There, that should help a little. Now you better put your arms around my neck like Maddie did so I can get you to school.”

  She sat frozen, blinking at him, her cheeks partially covered as the color drained from her face. “Oh, no. I couldn’t.”

  “Sure you can. I won’t drop you.”

  She shook her head, her eyes wide and round.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Now, Chloe, we can sit here and debate this for another ten minutes, but you’ve met my mother, and you know Vivienne James would tan my hide if I let you walk through foot-deep snow in your stocking feet, or foot, or sock, or whatever.” Now he felt his cheeks heating. His efforts at sounding cool and convincing were coming out as full-on dorkster. But he still wasn’t about to let her walk through the snow without a boot. He needed to appeal to her more rational side. “Besides that, the longer we fret about it, the later you’re going to be to school, so come on, woman, just let me carry you to the truck.”

  “Valid point.” She sighed, then slid her arms around his neck and let him lift her from the car. “Sorry about all the potty-mouth talk before. I don’t usually use such inappropriate language, and especially not around kids.”

  A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “It was pretty bad, but I can take it,” he teased. And he was pretty sure that growing up with three older brothers, Maddie had heard much worse as well.

 

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