by Holly Rayner
The Cowboy’s Surprise Baby
Holly Rayner
Contents
1. Marissa
2. Colt
3. Marissa
4. Marissa
5. Marissa
6. Colt
7. Colt
8. Marissa
9. Marissa
10. Colt
11. Marissa
12. Colt
13. Marissa
14. Colt
15. Colt
16. Marissa
17. Colt
18. Marissa
19. Colt
20. Marissa
Epilogue
Also by Holly Rayner
Copyright 2020 by Holly Rayner
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.
All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Marissa
I can’t wait to show Jen my new pair of jeans, Marissa Garvin thought as she eyed the parade of luggage cascading toward her on the baggage claim carousel. Her suitcase was purple, which would be easy to spot, and she was eager to grab it. She was already over an hour late—her flight from Kansas City to Austin, Texas, had been delayed—and she knew Jen would be getting impatient.
She smiled, thinking of her best friend since childhood. Jen was a high-energy woman who always pushed Marissa out of her comfort zone—which was why their annual get-together for a week in Austin was so much fun. Marissa always felt refreshed after a week with Jen and ready to return to her routines back home.
There, her bag! She swooped it up off of the conveyor belt and then turned and followed signs for ground transport.
As she stepped outside, the warm spring air was a welcome relief. It kissed her cheeks, and she breathed in with appreciation. She thought again with excitement about her new jeans.
It was with Jen and this week in Austin in mind that Marissa had picked out the pair of bejeweled jeans two months ago at a sale at the Dulcett mall. They were definitely not something she could wear to work as a teacher of first-graders. They were slacks of the “going out” variety—perfect for a night on the town with the girls.
Which is probably why I haven’t worn them yet, she thought. I haven’t had a girls’ night out in ages.
She pushed that thought aside and scanned the row of cars for Jen’s bright yellow SUV.
As she did so, her phone buzzed. It was Jen.
“Hey!” Marissa answered eagerly. “Are you here? I just stepped outside. I am so sorry; they held us on the plane for an hour in Kansas City. Apparently there was some kind of backup on the runway, and—”
“Hon, you didn’t get my messages, did you?” Jen said, cutting off Marissa.
Marissa furrowed her brow. Jen didn’t sound like her usual cheery self. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You sound congested. You didn’t come down with a cold or something, did you?”
“I tried to catch you before you left Dulcett,” Jen said. “I am so sorry… I thought you’d at least check your messages before getting on the plane.”
“I didn’t check,” Marissa said. “I was just so focused on getting to the airport, I guess. You know how I hate the whole parking-lot shuttle thing. What’s going on? You really don’t sound like yourself.”
“Mimi died,” Jen said, her voice cracking. For the first time, Marissa realized that Jen’s voice wasn’t congested because of a cold; she’d been crying.
“Oh, Jenny,” Marissa sighed. “I am so sorry.” As she said this, she stepped away from the curb and gave up looking for the SUV. It was clear that Jen wouldn’t be picking her up. She backed up, found an empty bench, and sat on it as she said, “You’ve been expecting this for a while, haven’t you? Was she in her nineties?”
“Yeah,” Jen said. There was a sniffling sound of her blowing her nose. “We all knew it was coming, but it really doesn’t make it any easier. Bobby and I are going to fly out tomorrow to Florida. Most of the family is already there.”
Marissa wished she could see Jen and give her a big hug. Though Marissa had never met Jen’s grandmother Mimi, she knew how much Jen’s entire family adored her.
Marissa sighed. “I am so, so sorry, Jen,” she said. “I am sending you the biggest over-the-phone hug I can manage.”
“Thanks,” Jen said. “I wish I caught you before you boarded the plane. You could have saved yourself the trip, and maybe they’d even give you a refund.”
Marissa let her gaze wander over the landscape before her. The noon-time Texas sky was bright with sunshine and a few puffy white clouds. Birds sang from nearby trees, cars whizzed past on a busy highway not far from where she sat, and the early spring air was warm and soft against her skin. Patches of green grass sprouted up everywhere that cement and pavement allowed, and vibrant flowers burst from the manicured garden beds. Her surroundings seemed to thrum with newness and excitement.
“It’s actually okay,” she said into the phone. “I’m happy to get out of Dulcett for a while. I think I need a change of pace.”
“You’re not still having problems with that awful principal, are you?” Jen asked.
“It’s not his fault,” Marissa said. “He’s dealing with pressure from the school board. To be honest, the whole state’s going through big changes. Work has been so stressful. I’m worn thin.” She thought of the long hours, the tense teacher’s union meetings, and the upset phone calls she’d been getting from parents of the first-grade students that she taught. It all seemed like one big nightmare.
“You’re losing weight, then?” Jen asked. “Maybe I should get a job as an overworked schoolteacher. I could stand to lose a few pounds. All the goodies at the restaurant have apparently made me a size twenty-four, according to the new jeans I bought for the trip.”
Marissa couldn’t help but chuckle. Her friend always managed to turn conversations toward the circumference of her thighs, in one way or another. It was nice to hear Jen had also bought new jeans for the trip, even if she wouldn’t be joining or getting to show them off. Well, there was always next year.
“I don’t mean ‘worn thin’ literally,” Marissa said. “I mean emotionally, Jen. I’m exhausted. I’m working twelve- to fourteen-hour days consistently. The other day I attended a union meeting that went until ten o’clock at night, and—” She stopped herself short. “I won’t go into it,” she said. “I really need to stop thinking about work.”
“As usual,” Jen said.
“This is good,” Marissa said with a nod. “It’s going to be weird, being here without you, but I’m glad that I’m here. I’m going to miss you, though. Can I do anything to help?”
“Just have fun for me, okay?” Jen said. “Don’t think about work for once. And send me a few pictures. I really wish I was there with you.”
“I will,” Marissa promised. “Give my love to Bobby and the kids. Safe travels to Florida. And so sorry again about Momma Mimi. A big special hug for you, girlie.”
When they hung up, Marissa stood and once again approached the curb.
This time, instead of looking for the familiar SUV that had picked her up for
the past ten years—ever since she and Jen were both twenty and initiated the yearly tradition—she lifted her hand to hail a cab.
Soon, she was being whisked along the same busy highway that she’d been eyeing from the bench. The high-rises of Austin shimmered just ahead, and behind lay a flat expanse of land that stretched all the way back to the little town of Dulcett, Kansas, where she’d lived for the past two years working as a schoolteacher.
Dulcett was miles away now and getting farther by the second.
As her cab cruised into the shadows of the skyscrapers, she pondered the change of plans. It would certainly be odd not having Jen around for this next week. In all her years of being a single woman, Marissa had never been on vacation alone.
In fact, her yearly vacation since she reached adulthood had always been with Jen.
This will be good for me, Marissa thought, tilting her head up slightly, near the cab’s windowpane, so she could soak up some of the afternoon sunlight that flashed through gaps in the skyscrapers. A new experience.
I’m going to be just fine without Jen. I have the whole week ahead, with nothing but fun and relaxation on the agenda. She smiled, thinking of seven whole days without making one single lesson plan or grading one single homework assignment.
Within forty-five minutes, she was deposited in front of Skylark Suites.
After a hot shower, she wandered to the Skylark Suites Grill and had a leisurely lunch on the sunny outdoor patio. A few hours poolside followed, and then she returned to her hotel room with her evening plans in mind.
Each year, she and Jen attended the Southwestern Rodeo. It was the reason that they started coming to Austin in late March to begin with; Jen harbored a life-long love affair with horses, and Marissa was always happy to tag along to the event with her enthusiastic friend. The tickets to the rodeo cost a pretty penny, and Marissa hated the thought that hers would go to waste.
She felt hesitant about attending the event alone. The McFarlin Sports Arena was all the way across the city, and the scene there was always intense and high energy. Noise, lights, and a massive crowd of rodeo fans would greet her and keep her company for however long she chose to stay.
I could just stay in and read my book, she thought, eyeing the perfectly made hotel bed. The cuff of her new jeans poked out of her open suitcase, which was on a chair just to the left of the bed.
She eyed the jeans.
They begged to be worn.
“Oh, all right,” she whispered to herself, as if the jeans might hear her. “I’ll go out.” She tugged the jeans free and then rummaged through her suitcase for the snug black tank top that she had purchased along with the jeans.
With country music blaring from the little bedside clock radio, she dressed and then spent longer than usual putting on makeup: dark eyeliner and mascara to enhance her espresso-colored eyes, a shimmery bronzer to her cheeks, and shimmering lip gloss. At work, she always wore her shoulder-length brown hair back in a tight bun, so it felt fun to have the chance to wear it down loose around her face. She braided a small section on one side and swept the braid back into a half ponytail, then surveyed her appearance, turning this way and that in front of the bathroom mirror.
Pleased with what she saw, she grinned.
Even if the evening at the rodeo was a bust, it would be worth it just because it gave her the opportunity to get gussied up.
I should really do this more often, she thought, as she packed a black clutch with a few belongings, including her rodeo ticket.
So what if I don’t know anyone in Dulcett yet? If I start going out once in a while, I’ll get to know people.
I have to stop being so caught up with work. I really need to unwind more often—it’s not healthy to be so stressed all the time.
I’m going to have more fun. Starting tonight.
She slipped on a pair of black thong sandals and headed for the door.
The cab ride to the arena went by quickly, despite the heavy traffic around the McFarlin Sports Arena. The driver was friendly and full of advice about things to do in the city.
“Have fun, darlin’,” the cabbie said with a wink after accepting his payment.
“I’m going to do my best,” Marissa promised. She stepped out of the cab, and when he drove away, she felt instantly lonely.
There were so many people around, yet she didn’t know a single soul.
Music, pumped out from the stadium, thrummed through the air. A family—complete with screaming kids—hurried past, followed by a large cluster of Texas University students.
Marissa wasn’t sure what to do first. The event had been going on all day, but she knew that the biggest crowd-pleasers weren’t due to start for another hour, at eight. The area outside the arena was filled with vendors of all things rodeo-related, and she decided to browse the offerings before going inside.
A tent with a black awning, just about ten feet in front of her, caught her eye. Hickman Ranch Bourbon was written in white, curvy script across the top of it. The vendor, a man in his late sixties with a bushy white mustache, was perched on a stool, chatting with a gaggle of women in cowboy hats who were tipping back shots of amber liquid.
A drink sounds nice, thought Marissa, as she watched the women delight in the taste of their drinks and then disperse in one big, giddy pack. The tent was now empty, and the vendor caught Marissa’s eye. “Care for a sample?” he called out. “I have a variety of single barrel picks from my distillery up north—Hickman Ranch. You heard of it?”
Marissa approached the tent. “No, I haven’t,” she admitted. “I’m actually not from around here. I’m sure it’s good, though.”
As she neared the tent, a man approached from another direction. “Oh, it’s good all right. Best whiskey in Texas,” he said, in a deep southern drawl.
The man wore a Stetson, cowboy boots, jeans, and a plaid top, just like most of the other men Marissa had seen that night. However, he was hardly like the other men. He stood apart thanks to his good looks, which were so stunning that butterflies stirred in her stomach at the mere sight of him. He had an athletic, lean build, complete with narrow hips, a strong chest, and broad shoulders. His jaw was square and strong, his nose classic, and the faintest bit of blond stubble that shadowed his jaw matched the blond hair that emerged from beneath his hat.
She felt giddy and slightly faint as he stepped under the tent top and joined her. Now I really need a drink, she thought, as her knees went a bit wobbly.
“Well, I’ll be darned!” the vendor said, standing up off of his stool and reaching both arms out toward the handsome man. “Colt! Long time, my man, long time. What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be inside, in some fancy VIP clubhouse or somethin’?”
Colt chuckled. “I’ve been in there all afternoon. Needed a little fresh air.” He leaned forward and hugged the vendor. They slapped each other’s backs a few times and then broke apart. Colt turned to Marissa. “This really is the best bourbon whiskey in Texas. Don’t let his down-home looks fool you—this guy makes liquor fit for royalty.”
“Let me pour you both a drink,” the man said. “You two are here together? Colt, does this mean you finally have a woman on your arm?”
Marissa blushed. “Oh—no, no,” she said. “We’re not—” She glanced at the tall, muscular cowboy at her side. He looked down at her, a playful smile on his lips. She wanted him to jump in and help her explain things to the nice vendor, but he refused.
“We’re not together,” she managed. “I’m in town on my own. We just happened to arrive here at the same time.”
The vendor had two little wooden trays in front of him, each with four glasses on top. He finished pouring out a dash of liquid into the glasses, and then pushed the trays across the table.
“Well, that’s a shame,” he said. “You make a good-looking couple. Now—you know the saying. The most important thing about whiskey is the company you keep while you taste it. That makes all the difference.”
He
winked at Marissa and then pointed to the drinks. “I’ve got a four-year-old beauty here on the end—creamy, nutty, all-around delicious. That’s followed by a five-year that we had in the darkest corner of the barn, my favorite, to tell the truth. These two are from two years back. This one’s fruity—you’re gonna taste fig—and this one’s smoky. Enjoy.”
A trio of twenty-somethings approached, laughing boisterously. “We hear you’re giving out samples!” one said, smacking the table. “Hit us with your best shot.”
“Whoa, now,” the vendor said. “I’ve got to check your IDs first.”
As he went about checking that the three newcomers were of age, Marissa eyed the four glasses in front of her. The liquid in each was slightly different colors, but she couldn’t remember which drink went with which description.
As if he was reading her mind, Colt motioned to the glass at the far edge of her lineup. “We’ll start with this one,” he said gently.
We? A shiver ran down her spine. Did he just say “we”? It was one thing to hear the vendor refer to her and Colt keeping each other company, but it was quite another to have Colt himself insinuate the same thing.
Did he really want to drink with her?
Was he also at the rodeo alone?
As she nervously lifted the little glass, part of her waited for a woman to hurry over and push her way between them. There was no way a guy as good-looking as Colt was here at the event alone.
But the vendor did say something about Colt finally having a woman on his arm, didn’t he?
“Cheers,” Colt said, holding his glass out.
Marissa did the same, clinking her glass against his and then lifting it to her lips, all the while barely looking at him. He was just so handsome. Looking at him made her feel completely tongue-tied.
The whiskey was smooth and delicious—not at all like the burning fire-fuel that she remembered taking shots of as a college student. She licked her lips and warmth spread through her. Finally, thanks to the slight bit of liquid courage that the drink provided, she chanced a look at Colt.