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A few of Carolyn Brown’s other Romances Available on Kindle:
An Old Love’s Shadow
Honky Tonk Angel
Red River Deep
Bride for a Day
How to Marry a Cowboy
The Cowboy’s Mail Order Bride
The Cowboy’s Christmas Baby
Billion Dollar Cowboy
Cowboy Seeks Bride
Just a Cowboy and His Baby
Mistletoe Cowboy
One Hot Cowboy Wedding
Darn Good Cowboy Christmas
Red’s Hot Cowboy
Love Drunk Cowboy
Honky Tonk Christmas
My Give a Damn’s Busted
Hell, Yeah
I Love This Bar
Getting Lucky
One Lucky Cowboy
Lucky in Love
The Ladies’ Room
Hidden Secrets
The Blue Ribbon Jalapeno Society Jubilee
The Red Hot Chili Cook Off
A Forever Thing
In Shining Whatever
Life After Wife
Sweet Romances, Spicy Cowboy Romances, Historical, Women’s Fiction…Carolyn Brown has something for everyone:
“This book will have you laughing so hard you'll develop a stitch in your side and then the next minute you'll be tearing up at how romantic something is. I found myself with a big smile on my face at the end of this book and I think you will too.”— Romance Studio
“Sit back, turn on the music of Watermelon Crawl by Tracy Byrd, and enjoy the fun new series by an author who brings the spark to the genre of Western Romance!”—Overstuffed Bookcase
“Love Drunk Cowboy roped me right into its pages, branded my heart, and busted my review-o-meter. Best Western Romance…I’ve ever read!”—Love Romance Passion
“An old-fashioned love story told well. This is an enjoyable read for a leisurely summer day…the basic love story is a delight. Do not pass this one up.” RT Magazine
“RED'S HOT COWBOY is filled with quirky, endearing characters, who made this reader want to visit Henrietta.” —Book Lover and Procrastinator
“Reading one of author Carolyn Brown’s books always gives me the feel of warmth, friendship and family.” —Mason Canyon
“Carolyn Brown's Darn Good Cowboy Christmas is a sizzler; like bacon on a burning hot frying pan. A darn good love story for the holiday season!”—Love Romance Passion
Coming Soon from Carolyn Brown:
The Burnt Boot Series
Cowboy Boots for Christmas (Cowboy Not Included), Oct. 2014
The Trouble with Texas Cowboys, Jan. 2015
One Cowboy Too Many, Summer 2015
The Cowboy's Christmas Miracle (working title), Oct. 2015
The Red Dirt Road Series
Long, Hot Texas Summer, Aug. 2014
Daisies in the Canyon, Dec. 2014
The Cadillac Texas Trilogy
The Yellow Rose Barbecue Ball, Apr. 2015
Available now:
The Blue Ribbon Jalapeno Society Jubilee
The Red-Hot Chili Cook-Off
The Third Wish
A Vintage Carolyn
Brown Romance Novel
By Carolyn Brown
Copyright © 2016, Carolyn Brown
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 ONE
My sister, Ashley was eighteen the summer that our mother took us to the beach in Pensacola, Florida. The trip was Ashley’s high school graduation present and we had a picnic on a quilt on her birthday. Just the three of us—Mama, Ashley and me—but there was pizza and a chocolate cake with candles. And we got to stay for a whole week. We swam, collected shells, fed the gulls and every night we watched the sun set over the water. I was eight that year and to me the whole time was dusted with some kind of miraculous fairy dust.
Ashley and I found the old bottle washed up on the beach the night of her birthday. It was most likely a tequila bottle but I was convinced that it was magic and that if we rubbed it hard, a genie would come out the top in a puff of smoke and grant us each three wishes. I shut my eyes and rubbed the bottle. Mama pretended that she saw the smoke and the genie told her that we could each have three wishes.
Ashley wished for college to be easy, for no rain the rest of our vacation and for a handsome prince to come into her life and sweep her away to live happily ever after. It took a few years but her wishes all came true.
Mama asked that her daughters, Ashley and Jessica—that would be me—would find happiness; that she would live long enough to see her grandchildren and for the three of us to always respect and love each other. Her wishes also came true. Ashley and I were both happy. Mama got to see two grandchildren and watch them grow up to be fine young men and we really did all three love each other.
I rubbed the bottle a few extra times because I wanted to really see the genie come out of the bottle but he wouldn’t show himself a second time. So I made my choices: the first one was that I wouldn’t always be the tallest kid in class. The second was that I would find a big, huge conch shell the next day. And the third wish was that I could see my father. The first of mine never did come true. I was always the tallest kid in class from kindergarten through high school. We had one boy who made it to six foot in our senior year but I topped him by one inch. I did find a conch shell the next day. It wasn’t big but it still sits on a shelf, along with the bottle, in my living room to remind me of the good times we had.
That was twenty years ago and my third wish still hadn’t come true. Then on a Thursday afternoon a deputy sheriff came to our real estate agency with the news that our mother had been killed in a car wreck south of Jefferson, Texas where we live. A semi driver had lost control and slammed into her little smart car that she whipped around town in. She and the driver were both gone before the ambulance arrived on the scene.
We couldn’t go through her personal things until the shock wore off but last week we decided that it had to be done. That’s when we found the letters, tied up with a faded red ribbon. They were from some guy named Edward Rollin and Ashley didn’t think we should read them but I disagreed. I’d never heard Mama mention that name and some of the letters had little red kiss stickers on the back side. He had to be an old boyfriend and I’d always been the nosy sister. Ashley said she’d have no part of snooping into Mama’s mail and stormed off to clean out her dresser drawers. I figured that she was getting into things even more personal than I was and I sat in the middle of her bed, sorted them according to the dates on the outside and began to read.
Three hours later, with big drops of tears still dripping from my cheek bones, I had read every one of them at least once and that last one that had never been mailed, three times. My head hurt from sobbing and my eyes were blood red. My father was Edward Rollin and he’d written half the letters I’d read; the other half mama had sent to him. They talked about what each other said on t
he phone so evidently they’d had a hot and heavy romance for about three or four months.
Ashley had long since forsaken me and gone home so I sat there alone in Mama’s bedroom and felt her pain when she’d gotten the last letter from him—in a box along with all the ones that she had written. No wonder she’d always evaded my questions about him. He’d thrown her away for another woman and there was a possibility I had a half-sister or brother somewhere in the panhandle of Florida. And now I could understand why she refused to tell me anything. I would have begged to go meet my sister or brother. I would have cried to see him. It was easier to say nothing than it would have been to deal with my whining.
It was late that Friday night when I dried my eyes and made my decision. I was leaving on Monday morning to go see Edward Rollin. I might not ever speak to him but I was going to lay eyes on the man who broke my mama’s heart.
Two days later, on the third Monday morning in August, all those letters were tucked into my tote bag and I was packed to go to Panama City Beach, Florida. Ashley, in her usual bossy mode, was standing between me and the front door of my small house a couple of blocks from our agency. Her arms were crossed over her chest, blue eyes flashed anger and her delicate little mouth was set in a firm line.
“You are bat shit crazy,” she said through clenched teeth. “It’s been twenty-eight years. He may have moved. He may be dead. Or he’s probably still married with another kid. I can tell you right now he won’t greet you with open arms and a big happy welcome. Think, sister! Mama knew what she was doing when she protected you against ever knowing him.”
“I’m not stupid.” I tossed two bikinis into the suitcase, planning to spend lots of hours on the beach even if I didn’t get to meet or see my father. “I don’t know what I expect. Do you know what I always envied in other children? Everyone had a father but me—even you. Even if your Daddy was dead, at least you had one. I never did even know his name or what he did or where he lived. I didn’t know for sure if he was a bum or a millionaire.”
“What makes you think you’ll be any further ahead if you do have one?” Ashley asked.
“I don’t, but when I get back it’ll be finished.” I zipped the suitcase and crossed the room in my usual long strides to bend down and hug my sister. At just over six feet, I tower above Ashley. If our birth certificates didn’t say that we had the same mother, even we wouldn’t believe that we are sisters. She’s a short, dark haired, blue eyed brunette just like Mama was. I’m a tall, blonde with brown eyes. She’s the bossy one. I’m the nosy one. The one thing that we really had in common was our mother, Linda. Well, that and the real estate agency that our family had run for forty or more years.
“Why don’t you take a few days and go out to the farm? Think about it instead of going off in a tizzy like this. The farmhouse is so peaceful and you like it there,” Ashley pleaded.
“Take care of Peeta for me and don’t forget to water the ferns while I’m gone.” She wasn’t going to talk me out of the trip. I needed to see the man for myself, not just read about how much my mama loved him. Sure he was probably married. The last letter he sent along with all the ones that she’d mailed to him said that his girlfriend of seven years was pregnant and he was going to do the right thing and marry her.
“Promise me you won’t come dragging a broken heart back here,” Ashley wasn’t going to give up easily.
“I promise,” I hugged her one more time. “I’ll call when I check into the motel. I want to be so close to the water I can smell the salt. See you in a couple of weeks. And keep the special cat treats out of sight or Peeta will meow until you want to wring his pretty black neck.”
The sun was a sliver in the east when I left Jefferson that morning. I arrived ten hours later at the Sugar Sands just east of Panama City Beach and stepped out onto the deck off my condo that led straight to the beach. A brilliant array of colors from a gorgeous sunset reflected back into the water. Lazy waves lapped up on the sand and then retreated back. Birds hurriedly pecked through the sand and then rushed away from the water as it returned. The salty smell and the sound took me back to the last time I’d been in Florida. Maybe I’d find another bottle and make wishes that would be more likely to come true.
I was leaning on the railing when the ring tone on my phone said that James, my best friend, since kindergarten was calling. I hit the button to answer but before I could say a word, he started on one of his rants.
“Where are you? I’ve been worried all day. Why weren’t you answering your phone calls? Ashley told me about this fool stunt. Why didn’t you tell me? I’ll tell you why. You didn’t want me to talk you out of it. This is the craziest stunt you ever pulled. If your father had wanted to see you, he’d have found you. You are giving up your whole vacation to chase an illusive dream. You don’t act like this, Jessie. You’ve always had a good head sitting on your shoulders and you’re too young to be going through mid life crisis. You don’t go off chasing butterflies.” He finally ran out of air.
I latched on to the chance to talk and said, “I’m here and it’s just like I remembered only better and the sun is setting and you’d love it. You should catch a plane and fly down for two weeks. I didn’t answer your calls because I didn’t want to listen to you have a hissy like you just did.” I stopped to catch my breath.
“I’m too mad to talk to you so I’m hanging up before we both say things we’ll be sorry for.” He was gone without so much as a goodbye which was fine by me.
I changed into a bikini, threw a T-shirt over the top and tucked the room key card into my tote bag. It was too late for sun tanning but I could at least feel the sand on my toes. I spread out my tie-dyed beach towel on the sand to enjoy the sound of the waves splashing up on the shore and kept an eye out for another bottle that might wash up. If I did find one, I might ask for a knight in shining armor to carry me away on a pretty white horse.
At first I had my knees pulled up under my chin but then I wanted to feel the surf on my toes. The timing could not have been worse. Just as I stretched out my long legs, a jogger tripped over them and went flying out into the edge of the water face first. He came up sputtering with fire in his blue eyes and his black hair dripping water into his eyes.
“Why did you trip me? Are you crazy? My MP3 Player is ruined.” He sent a mist of water over my T-shirt when he flipped his hair back. His chest was broad and muscles rippled through a white tank top but those blue eyes were sure enough angry. My heart did a little quiver but I ignored it. Besides I didn’t like his smart-ass attitude.
“Why don’t you open your eyes and watch where you are going and take those things out of your ears? Enjoy the sound of the ocean instead of listening to loud music. Maybe then you wouldn’t nearly break a woman’s leg with your big feet.” I shot back. Tomorrow I’d have a bruise on my leg where his big foot slammed against it. Thank goodness he was barefoot or he could have cracked the bone with those huge feet of his.
He glared at me for a moment, then took off in a semi-jog, his wet clothing sticking to him and his bare feet slapping against the hard sand. I watched him until he was nothing but a tiny moving dot against the setting sun and then I got up and started back to my little condo. It had everything I needed for a two week visit—queen sized bed, small stove, refrigerator, big screen television, sofa, table and four chairs, free Wi-Fi and my own personal space on the deck.
The cool air hit me like a blast from the North Pole when I opened the door and goose bumps popped up on my body. I hurriedly turned down the air, and flipped the shower on. That’s when I remembered I was supposed to call Ashley.
I hit the speed dial and Ashley answered on the first ring. “James called and said you were already there and I tried ten times to call you and you didn’t pick up. I was about to send out the troops.”
“I left my phone in the room and enjoyed the beach until some jogger tripped over my leg and fell into the water. He was pretty angry but he should have been watching where he was goi
ng rather than listening to whatever music came through those ear buds.”
“I’d love to be there. Remember when we went to the beach for my high school graduation trip?”
“Being here brought back all the memories. I have to admit, I even looked for a bottle at the edge of the water but I couldn’t find one. Come on down here.”
“You really think this agency can run itself for two whole weeks? Get real,” she fussed.
I carried my toiletry kit into the bathroom and set it on the vanity. “I knew you were just whistling in the wind. You or Momma either one couldn’t shut the business for more than a day at a time.”
“My sister and co-owner of the business took a trip so I have to stay home and make a living. I can’t chase off for two weeks to the ocean on a lark.” Ashley’s tone turned chilly. The memory might have been a happy one but she was still angry with me. “Have you been to see him, yet?”
“No, I’m waiting until morning. I wanted a little thinking and breathing time first. After that nine hour drive, I’m pretty exhausted. I’m in room 101 and there’s a chair and a bench right outside my door on the deck. Tomorrow morning I’m going to drive down town and look at the building where his mortgage company is located. According to the yellow pages, it’s Rollin, Smith and Rycroft. Sounds like three stuffy, old men who smoke cigars and sit in a big conference room deciding who gets a fancy loan and who doesn’t. Is Peeta missing me?”
“That rotten cat doesn’t even know you’re gone. He got out of the carrier and claimed the piano stool in front of the bay window. Trey feeds him a morsel at a time out of the palm of his hands,” Ashley said.
“Trey’s a good kid. Always trust a fellow who knows how to treat a cat,” I told her. “I’ll call tomorrow evening and let you know how it went.”
“Don’t hang up,” Ashley said hurriedly. “I saw James at Braums. He was grabbing a salad for lunch. He’s still pretty mad at you. Said he was going to dinner tonight with one of the secretaries at the court house. What is her name? She’s the one with short, dark hair and wears glasses.”
Small Town Romance Collection: Four Complete Romances & A New Novella Page 55