by Ellie Hall
Her Football Star Billionaire Groom
Bachelor Second Chance Cowboy Romances
Ellie Hall
To everyone who's been given a second chance in love, life, and spirit.
Acknowledgments
I'm grateful for the amazing team of writers who brought the Kelly brothers into all their alpha guy glory, along with our intrepid leader Taylor Hart. Much appreciation, as always my husband, but this time for the football insight and to my kids for their festive suggestions. Thank you for reading. Have a merry, merry Christmas!
Copyright
All rights reserved.
© 2019 Ellie Hall
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews. The reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form whether electronic, mechanical or other means, known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written consent of the publisher and/or author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This edition is published by ArchStone Ink LLC.
First eBook Edition: 2019
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the creation of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Foreword by Taylor Hart
Holy Cow I love this author so much! Working with her the past couple of months and getting a chance to read this book has BLOWN my mind!
Don’t miss this book!
I love the way Ellie makes you unwrap the love story between Ryan and Rachel like a slow, sticky chocolate truffle that you never want to end!
Seriously—Ryan is the boy from the past that broke her heart. And Rachel is the only girl he wants.
It’s magical!
Settle in; forget the laundry, dishes, housework and focus on this book—you won’t regret it!
Hugs-
Taylor Hart
Author of the best-selling, Her Country Star Country Billionaire: Bachelor Second Chance Cowboy Romances
Contents
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
Her Horse Racing Groom by Rachael Eliker
Also by Ellie Hall
About the Author
Chapter 1
Christmas carols played merrily on the radio of the truck as the tires crunched over the icy driveway. Ordinarily, Ryan would’ve hummed along. Instead, he concentrated on pushing away the welling of emotion brought on by the sight of the Kelly Brother Ranch in all its sprawling, custom-crafted glory. He knew one thing and one thing only. The house was as empty as he felt inside.
It had been a year since Ryan Kelly had been home to the family ranch in Colorado. Before that, it had been four years since he’d returned home and five years had passed since he’d let himself think about his mother along with everything else that he’d run away from.
As he entered the great room with high ceilings and exposed beams, everything looked the same. Yet his life had changed so much.
Hanging over the stone hearth was the family portrait, featuring his father, John Kelly—the larger-than-life oil magnate, rancher, and a guy with a heart of gold. His arm was draped loving over Mom’s shoulders. Ryan and his four brothers—JJ, Seth, Clark, and Parker—gathered around for the shot. They were all bright-eyed and innocent. A soft chuckle escaped. Well, innocent aside from the regular brotherly shenanigans.
The image of them all together, smiling and happy caused his chest to tighten. He recalled the photographer trying to get them all to look at the camera and smile at the same time. Meanwhile, Parker was forcing himself not to crack up because he’d frozen all the doughnuts and muffins Mom had planned for brunch. Later, JJ had gotten back at him by swapping out his deodorant for cream cheese. Their mother called them her five little rascals—though there was nothing little about the Kelly men.
He missed the sound of Mom’s soothing voice. The laughter in the house. The good times. They were as close as a family could be and once had meant everything to Ryan. They still did, but it had been easier to stay away.
That was because only five people in the photograph were left.
His footfalls were heavy as he walked through the house. The familiarity pricked something inside of him.
Mom had all the trophies and medals the boys had collected over the years on display. But she’d missed his Super Bowl wins. Most people would say achieving the level of success on the field that he had was not at all an easy feat, but Ryan had his own ideas of what was simple or difficult. Being back home definitely fit into the second category.
Everything in the house was nearly as he remembered it or as he’d expect it to be upon his homecoming.
As it had every year since he was a boy, the Christmas tree stood grandly in front of the large glass windows opening to a vista of the rolling hills surrounding the ranch and the mountains beyond. But there was a certain emptiness that he didn’t want to feel and had avoided for years. It crept into his heart then, tugged at the corners of his eyes, and made his chin tremble.
He glanced back up at the family portrait and pushed the feelings down and away. There wasn’t time for being soft. He was back at the ranch for one reason only: to keep his charity funded by the Kelly Foundation.
Ryan wandered into his old room. Much like the family portrait, the space was like a snapshot, frozen in time.
The sports action figures lined up on the bookshelf revealed him as a boy, the stack of sports magazines as a teenager, and the jerseys left over from his college days playing ball, as a young man. Mostly, the décor revealed a guy passionate about football—the green wallpaper border of a football field was the biggest giveaway. Mom had indulged all of her sons’ interests with love and fervor—she was practically a saint.
Ryan plopped onto the bed. He traced the small footballs on the blanket with his finger like he’d done when he was a kid, counting them like points to win a game.
A framed photo of Ryan and a beautiful redhead, taken after one of his high school games, sat dusty on the bedside table. In the shot, he was sweaty and his pants slick with mud. She was wearing a sundress and looking radiant and gorgeous as usual. They smiled at each other, hearts intact.
He sighed.
It had been five years since Ryan let himself feel the weight of loss. First his mother. Then his father. Because of how difficult it was for him after his mother had tragically died, he’d also lost his high school sweetheart. She was somewhere in Florida, probably living her best life.
It had been five years since he’d let himself love.
Five years since he’d seen Rachel Moore.
Five years of playing football, building his career, and avoiding his family.
A dusty box wrapped in Christmas paper with cats wearing Santa hats and tied with a red ribbon sat in the corner of Ryan’s old desk. He picked it up, recalling the contents a
nd his intention.
“Ry-man,” a familiar deep voice called from the doorway.
Ryan startled, nearly dropping the box then tossed it from hand to hand to play off his surprise. He wouldn’t let his brother, JJ, see that being back home made him uncomfortable.
JJ entered the room and took a deep breath. “I made sure everything was kept the same, but feel free to clear out all this clutter while you’re home. It’ll save me the hassle.” He chuckled and gently knocked Ryan on the upper arm with his fist. “Hey, no need to freak out.”
Ryan tucked his chin. “What do you mean? I’m not freaking out.”
The corner of JJ’s eyes crinkled with laughter. “You’re totally freaking out.” As the oldest of five boys and likely having to change a diaper or two when they were younger, he always had the ability to see right to the core of his brothers.
“I’m not freaking out. I’m just standing here.” Ryan’s tone was more defensive than he’d have liked.
JJ nodded. “Mmhmm. I know what it looks like when Ryan Kelly freaks out. He gets really quiet and still and...”
At that, Ryan resumed tossing the box between his hands like he would a football.
“...And he retreats into his thoughts.”
JJ was mostly right, but what he’d said wasn’t entirely true. No, when things got tough, Ryan ran—literally—to avoid his racing thoughts. He’d tie on his sneakers and bolt, getting as far from his feelings as possible.
“I’m going to hit the trails soon,” Ryan said.
“You’re back for less than an hour and already out the door.” JJ sighed. “Anyway, I have these documents for you from Niles. There’s just one you’ll need to sign.” He set a large envelope on Ryan’s desk.
The contents were yet another thing Ryan wanted to get away from. He wasn’t lazy or immature or selfish. Quite the opposite in most ways.
Two minutes left in the quarter, third down? He’d score for the team.
Buy a house, pay bills, and make appointments? He could adult all day.
Present him with a charity that needed funding? He was on it.
But the stipulation in his father’s will? He wanted to rip the paper in half and toss it in the fireplace.
“It’s what Dad wanted,” JJ said as though once more reading his brother’s mind.
Ryan shoved the box that he’d wrapped five years previous into JJ’s hands and brushed past him.
“Where are you going?” his brother called.
“For a run.”
“Remember, eventually whatever you’re running from will catch up with you.” JJ’s tone was calm, patient. His words were the truth.
Ryan knew he was right, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing his phone, popping on music, and heading for the trails he and his father had cleared on the property so he could train.
A layer of snow covered the sloping lawns and landscaping surrounding the dream house his father had built for the love of his life, Susan. The woman who went on to raise five sons under that roof.
He was eager to put distance between himself and all the memories as he jogged away.
The clouds hanging low in the sky and white tipped mountains in the distance suggested more snow was on the way. Ryan was used to the weather in Boston where he primarily lived during the winter months. He forced himself to run outside to remain accustomed to the feel of cold air in his lungs, but it was nothing like the crisp winters and altitude of his home state of Colorado. He also made sure to keep in good form running on uneven and slippery surfaces so returning to the trails was no sweat. But as the strains of a song that usually got him pumped filtered through his air pods, his feelings hardened and transformed. Anger and frustration rose to the surface.
As he approached the first mile, marked with blue and gold ribbons, his breath caught in his chest. Blue and gold were his high school’s team colors and reminded him of someone he couldn’t afford to think about—the girl who used to keep pace with him. Other emotions battled for center field. But he couldn’t think about them when he already felt so heavy.
He pushed himself uphill, digging into the terrain to keep his footing. He forced his breath in and out, but it was thin—probably because of the altitude.
At the top of a rise, a fence post, with more ribbons tied around it, marked mile two. Ryan’s feet hit the paved road that looped the property before he met up with the trail again. He was still angry as he pounded on the old route that he ran every day when he was in high school. His breathing turned heavy and he channeled all his emotions into his feet, running faster and faster.
He crossed the road back onto the trail, marking mile three. His thoughts folded into his father’s will and how each of the brothers had to marry by Christmas or they’d lose their inheritance and funding from the Kelly Foundation for the charities Dad had helped them each start.
In addition to being of service to his family, country, and God, the old man believed in true love.
Not only that, but the brothers couldn’t tell anyone about the stipulations. The reality of the situation refused to vanish into the surrounding silence as Ryan continued his run. He wanted the hills, the earth, or the sky to absorb it all. He was frustrated because everything was so complicated and secretive. Everything was locked up like the emotions he couldn’t let loose.
Dad knew Ryan blew his chance at true love when he’d run away from Rachel. His father Jack didn’t speak the words, but Ryan was certain he saw the disappointment in his father’s eyes just before he left that last time. Ryan ran away from all the things he couldn’t say and wouldn’t let himself feel. If only Mom weren’t gone, he’d have had someone to talk to about how to fix it.
He filtered through a mental list of people he could talk to.
The guys on the team? They didn’t quite understand.
His brothers? Ryan had been slow to heal after losing his mother but had come around the year previous and connected with JJ. However, the news about their father’s death and the contents of the will was like a setback. It threw him off and he felt like he was right back where he’d started.
No one would understand him except his mother. She was the only one who’d never judged. She never made him feel embarrassed about his feelings. She was a great listener and always asked just the right question that led him to discover his own answer to whatever bothered him.
At mile four, snow started to fall and melted away some of Ryan’s anger—or maybe the memories of Mom had mellowed him. As he continued, he called up memories like a slide show, ones that had been tough to grapple with. When he was younger, he’d run and train then return home, huffing and puffing. Mom always had water and a snack waiting for him. She would sing while she did housework. She loved flowers and sunshine. She was devout and led the family in daily prayer. She was a wonderful woman. But she was gone.
Ryan slowed, taking in the landscape as it gradually disappeared beneath the fresh layer of falling snow. For a moment he found himself lost in wonderment, at the breathtaking beauty surrounding him, of his home. He found a deep breath filling his lungs and a gust of wind blew the snow around his ankles. He’d never tell anyone, but at that moment he felt his mother’s loving presence.
He’d hardly been able to breathe deep like that since he’d left abruptly so many years ago. If only he could leave all his feelings there, buried under a white blanket. Then JJ’s comment about things eventually catching up to him echoed in his mind. The snow would eventually thaw, revealing whatever he’d hidden.
Ryan continued on, feeling foolish about his emotional moment. By the time he hit mile five, his thoughts finally quieted. He’d hit his stride. There was only the sound of his heart hammering in his chest and the rhythm of his inhalations and exhalations. He felt like he was coming home to that peace inside when he forgot his thoughts and how complicated everything was.
His arms pumped. His legs knew what to do. He felt light as though he was floating. He’d escaped into that place of ease,
where the endorphins kicked in and his thoughts ceased.
Ryan rounded a corner and approached the old oak tree by the pond at the top of a small hill. The swing for two hung from a low branch. He imagined the letters he’d carved on the bark was still there. His memories flashed with romantic summers and starry nights spent with Rachel.
As he thundered up the hill, he blinked a few times, wondering if he was imagining things. A woman was crouched under the tree, tying her shoe. Her shiny auburn hair was tied into a ponytail.
The way she moved was with grace and confidence, reminding him of Rachel. More memories dropped into his mind like the snow from the sky. He kept running, intending to breeze by the stranger who still had her back to him.
The trail narrowed at the top of the hill, taking him under the tree and closer to her. He kept his eyes on the terrain ahead, focused on keeping his footing because a thin layer of snow covered the trail.
As he passed her, she stood and then slipped on a piece of ice hidden under the snow. He reached out, managing to grab her arm and waist before she hit the ground.
He met her eyes. Her big brown eyes. They were as beautiful as he’d remembered but laced with sadness he’d never before seen.
It was Rachel.
Chapter 2
Rachel Moore froze on top of the hill by the oak tree and not because it was cold outside, though it was. Deep in the mountains of Colorado, cold was a relative term. There was brisk, chilly, and cold. Then there was frigid, subzero, and forget about going outside.