A Texas Chance
Page 1
The solution…or the problem?
After a scandal torches her career, hotelier Sophie Carlisle vows to rise from the ashes. She pours her all into turning a run-down house in Austin, Texas, into a fabulous boutique hotel. Now, with the opening mere weeks away, Sophie is running out of both time and money!
So when Cade MacAllister swoops in and offers to help, it seems like a godsend. And yet Sophie is leery. Why would Cade, a hotshot adventure photographer, want to spend his days swinging a hammer for her? Sophie has learned the hard way that everything has a price—especially trust. With so much on the line, can she risk her career—and her heart—on a wanderer with secrets?
“So…you going to show me around?”
Sophie stared at Cade. “Why?”
“So I can figure out what kind of shots you could use.”
“Look, I don’t want anything from you. I am no one’s charity case.” She wanted to say more but thought a retreat was smarter. “Besides, I hear my guys coming in, and I have a lot of work to do. Today’s not a good day. You should go.”
With one hand on her jumpy stomach and the other in a fist, she rapidly made her way out of the room.
It was a full hour before she realized that Cade hadn’t left. Instead he’d somehow acquired a pair of work gloves and was busy cleaning out underbrush.
With his shirt off.
Dear Reader,
Ever since the last of the five Deep in the Heart books was published in 2004, I’ve been hearing from many of you who fell in love with the Montalvo/MacAllister clan and wanted me to write Cade’s and Jenna’s stories. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but Jenna was too young and Cade was too mysterious. He was still a mystery when I started this book, but I’m happy to report that I fell hard for him, too, though I thought my heart belonged to Diego (okay, and Jesse and Zane and Vince and...). Actually, I think that, just like Sophie in this book, what I really fell in love with was this wonderful, loving family.
This April, in the second book of this trilogy, you’ll again encounter J. D. Cameron, the playboy detective from Most Wanted (Jesse and Delilah’s book), and then in June, Jenna will, at last, get her own story.
It’s always lovely to hear from you. You can reach me via my website, www.jeanbrashear.com, or through Harlequin’s website, www.Harlequin.com.
Very best wishes,
Jean Brashear
A Texas Chance
Jean Brashear
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Three RITA® Award nominations, an RT Book Reviews Series Storyteller of the Year award and numerous other awards have all been huge thrills for Jean, but hearing from readers is a special joy. She would not lay claim to being a true gardener, but her houseplants are thriving. She does play guitar, though, knows exactly how it feels to have the man you love craft a beautiful piece of furniture with his own hands…and has a special fondness for the scent of wood shavings.
Jean loves to hear from readers, via email at her website, www.jeanbrashear.com, via Harlequin’s website, www.Harlequin.com, or by postal mail at P.O. Box 3000 #79, Georgetown, TX 78627-3000.
Books by Jean Brashear
HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE
1071—WHAT THE HEART WANTS
1105—THE HEALER
1142—THE GOOD DAUGHTER
1190—A REAL HERO
1219—MOST WANTED
1251—COMING HOME
1267—FORGIVENESS
1339—SWEET MERCY
1413—RETURN TO WEST TEXAS
1465—THE VALENTINE GIFT
“Our Day”
1505—THE WAY HOME
1595—THE MAN SHE ONCE KNEW
SIGNATURE SELECT SAGA
MERCY
Other titles by this author available in ebook format
For all the lovely readers who kept asking me where Cade’s story was...better late than never, right?
And, as always, to Ercel, my own white knight
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to Amber Pearce for chatting about the lives of the thirtysomethings in Austin.
Thanks also to everyone at Rachel and Co.,
especially Emily Clear and Beth Ontiveros for her genius suggestion about Cade’s unattainable trip. Thanks also to the wonderful staff at
Koy Animal Clinic, especially Ted Koy, who’s cared so well for years’ worth of our pets, and
Christina Knape, who helped me figure out what Finn—er, Skeeter’s injury was.
Contents
PROLOGUE
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
CHAPTER NINETEEN
PROLOGUE
CADE MACALLISTER STOOD braced on the rock ledge right beneath the summit of the Andean peak. He knew the perfect shot would come once the cloud bank drifted a little more. The way the wind had suddenly gusted, it wouldn’t be long.
He leaned out, camera still tight against his eye, his core muscles locked, his weight balanced on a razor’s edge. Pebbles showered down the steep grade, and he shifted quickly to regain his equilibrium.
He was cold and tired and hungry.
But he was happy as hell.
It was shots like this that had made his career soar, the ones that required guts, steel nerves and a keen eye that saw beyond the expected to capture images that transported the viewer into the unimagined.
“Cade.”
“Yeah?” he said, never looking away from the viewfinder.
“I’ve got to climb to the east or my shadow will fall on your shot in a minute.”
“Thanks, man.” His friend and guide, Jaime, was the best for many reasons, but his ability to understand the needs of the shot was what made him indispensible. They’d first worked together nearly ten years ago, and Cade relied not only on Jaime’s climbing skills—which exceeded Cade’s own quite competent ones—but his ability to be present, always waiting to help without spoiling the mood Cade was caught in. Jaime understood Cade and his passion as few ever had.
If Jaime weren’t happily married and a father of three, Cade would never accept an assignment without him. But a life of constant travel, while perfectly suited to Cade, wasn’t for everyone, and definitely not for a man with a family.
“I’ve played out the rope a little,” Jaime said quietly. “Brace yourself, and I’ll be done in two minutes.”
He nodded, but Cade didn’t—couldn’t—let go of the camera or take his eye off the scene. He was close, so close.... He braced his legs. “Go,” he said to Jaime, only focused on the small rectangle of the viewfinder. Now…now…
There. He had it. One, two, four more shots in rapid succession, though he knew in his gut the first one was perfect—
Abruptly the wind roared, whipped him around, jerked him off balance.
The mountain rained stones down on him.
“Jaime—” But he knew what was happening—above him, Jaime must also be scrambling for balance. If he couldn’t hold on and hadn’t properly secured himself w
hen he moved, he could fall—and take Cade with him.
By instinct, Cade shoved his camera inside his jacket even as he grappled for a handhold. He didn’t need anyone to tell him the situation was bad. “Jaime!” His eyes teared against the bitter wind, and he blinked furiously, trying to make out his friend.
A muffled shout to his left. The thunder of rattling stones roaring louder and louder…then Cade watched in horror as Jaime tumbled like a slow-motion puppet, out of his reach. Cade stretched toward him, too late, too late—
Cade cursed as a savage gust knocked him off his feet, yet he fought to cross the distance even as Jaime vanished over the edge. “No!” he screamed as his world turned on end.
Pain exploded in his head.
Then…nothing.
A HAND LAY QUIETLY ON his arm. Voices murmured. Machines beeped.
Cade struggled upward through the thick tar of darkness. Cold trapped him, no light, no…
“Look,” a deep male voice said. “Did he just frown?”
Where was he? Who… “Uh…”
A gasp. “Sweetheart? Cade? Talk to us.” The hand stroked his skin. “You’re fine, honey. Just open your eyes.”
His lids were so heavy… His body weighted by concrete…
“Son, you’re safe. You’ve been hurt, but you’ll be okay.” The man’s voice was familiar in his bones, but worry crackled beneath the words.
He turned his head toward the voices until needle-sharp pain seized him.
“Don’t move, sweetheart. You’re all right. Just don’t… Please lie still.” The woman again, only now he could see her in his mind’s eye, the face of love.
“M…” His throat was dust-dry. He tried again. “Mom?” he croaked.
A cheer rose, several voices. “Yes, oh, sweetheart, yes—” His mother’s voice was thick with tears. “You’re in a hospital. You’ve been hurt, but you’re going to be all right.” Determination laced through her fear, and he tried to remember, but his thoughts darted away like silvery minnows.
“Rest easy, son,” said the man he realized was his father. A large hand on his shoulder, squeezing. “We’ve sent for the doctor to tell him you’re awake at last.” Gruff with emotion, his father’s voice pulled Cade through the unrelenting agony that threatened to suck him back down.
Cade forced his eyes open, blinked once…twice… Figures swam in and out of focus. Other men—his brothers, he realized, Zane, Diego and Jesse—and the fierce angel face of his sister, Jenna, crowded around the bed.
“What…happened?”
His mother put a straw to his lips, and the cool grace of water slid down his parched throat.
Then he realized that both his always-composed mother and his dad, the bulwark of a whole family, were crying.
“How bad is it?”
His mother’s lips pressed into a tight line, and his father’s eyes spoke of worry. “You’ll be fine. You had a climbing accident, but you’re going to make it, I swear. Thank God you’ve come back to us.”
But in that way of souls who’ve skimmed the edge of death, Cade knew it had been close.
And he wasn’t done yet.
“Tired…” He couldn’t keep his eyes from closing. Then he stirred. “Jaime—”
Oh, God. Grasping…searching…losing…failure. His fingers flexed weakly at the memory of watching his friend fall. “I have to…”
“Sleep, son,” his dad ordered. “We’re here. We won’t leave you.” Strong, reassuring fingers squeezed his shoulder.
Cade gave up the struggle and let sleep take him.
CHAPTER ONE
Davis Mountains, West Texas
Seven months later
CADE SLOUCHED IN A ROCKING chair on the porch of his brother’s log cabin as the sun crawled its way below the horizon. Beside him, Diego’s old dog, Lobo, shifted and groaned.
“I don’t know which of us is more pathetic, fella. You at least have old age to blame.” Cade’s head sank back against the rocker, and he pushed it into motion with an impatient shove of his heel. A rocking chair, he thought in disgust, fingers drumming. I’m thirty-nine years old, and I’ve been in this spot for two hours. He wanted to run, but he could barely walk. Wanted to race halfway across the world…but had no reason to leave and nowhere to go.
Even if anyone in his family would let him move an inch without hovering.
“Cade, honey?” called his mother from inside. “Do you need something?” Grace MacAllister appeared at the screen door.
Cade glanced up at the woman who never seemed to age. At sixty-six, Grace’s hair was still more blond than silver, her back straight, her figure slender. At six foot four, he towered over her—as did all her four sons and her husband—but pure steel ran through her spine.
He adored her. They all did. She was their queen, gracious and every inch the lady, strong and loving and cherished.
But if she didn’t stop treating him like an invalid… His hand clenched on the rocker’s arm.
“I’m fine, Mom.”
She meant well, he reminded himself. He hadn’t come home often as an adult, not because he didn’t miss and love his family—he did. But he’d needed solitude since he was small, and he was accustomed to that life now. He’d spent the past twenty years as an adventure photographer, roaming the globe with a camera in his hand, never settling, never resting. He’d been a wanderer since he’d first learned to walk, to the dismay of his parents. He’d always needed to see what was over there. Whatever there meant at the time.
But nearly dying in the Andes had a way of changing things.
And watching his friend and guide die…
He still hadn’t figured out how to handle that.
So when his mother placed a hand on his forehead, testing him for fever as she had when he was little, Cade forced himself not to tense. Instead, he clasped her hand and squeezed it in his. “Thanks, Mom. You’ve taken good care of me.”
Grace was no fool, however, and her smile was wry when she responded. “You’re restless.” Not a question; she knew him well. “Itchy for a camera in your hands?”
God, no. He couldn’t even look at his cameras, hadn’t been able to touch one without seeing his friend’s broken body. He couldn’t speak to anyone of the panic that kept him awake at night, how his fingers shook when he simply picked up a camera, knowing that his obsession with the perfect shot, the one that required risk and nerves to obtain, had cost a good man his life. He’d lain there on the mountain after he’d crawled toward Jaime, waiting for death to take him, too, and somewhere during that endless night he’d lost his eye for the story behind the frame, the gift of making an image tell far more than a thousand words.
Even if he recovered fully from the injuries he’d suffered in the fall, the one thing that had made his life matter was gone. He’d lost the thirst that had driven his life.
Besides, what did his career matter in the face of three children left fatherless?
But he couldn’t tell his mother any of that. “Soon,” he said instead, mustering a smile for her even as he saw worry shimmer in her eyes.
She, in turn, stroked his hair as if he were still small, then bent and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “It’ll get better,” she murmured. “Just be patient. You’ll be back on the road before you know it.”
He wished he still had that small boy’s faith in his mother’s reassurance. He’d like to believe that he’d have another spread in National Geographic or Smithsonian soon.
But something essential inside him remained broken after his bones had healed, and he didn’t know what to do or where to go. Solitude had always been his refuge, yet right now he couldn’t stand being with himself. He was dodging his agent’s calls because he had no idea how he was supposed to organ
ize the photo collection his publisher had paid him a sizable advance on.
It’ll get better. He hoped with all his heart his mother was right.
He could never settle for taking average photos, and if he wasn’t able to spend his life wandering the planet and documenting nature’s beauty and heartache for those not free to roam, what on earth would he do? He was nothing without a camera in his hands and frame after frame blooming in his mind.
Cade shoved to his feet and started down the steps. He’d taken to sneaking out at night and walking to build up the strength his family didn’t want him to tax yet. Sitting still only made him crazier.
“Hal,” called his mother to Cade’s dad. “Come walk with Cade.”
“No.” Cade turned. “I’m going alone, Mom.”
“Honey, I only…” She pressed her lips together and nodded just as his father came through the door. She placed a hand on his dad’s arm to restrain him. “All right, just…be careful, sweetheart.”
Cade looked from one concerned parent to the other. They’d never understood his need to be alone, but they’d been supportive all these years, despite the many important family occasions he’d missed.
He owed them better than this.
But he was going out of his freaking mind. “I won’t go far, I promise,” he said, trying not to feel he was five.
“You go ahead, son,” boomed the man who’d first put a camera in his hand and given him a way to relate to the world. “We’ll be here when you return.”
They would be, he knew. They always had been. Emotion crowded his throat when he nodded back. “Thank you.”
He wasn’t good with words, only with photographs. He’d spent years attempting to show his parents what they meant to him by giving them the gift of places they’d never travel to because they were so rooted in home. And now…
Cade made his way slowly down the slope to the cabin he’d moved to last week, one Diego kept for family and friends to use on visits.