She can save his ranch...
But can he forgive her?
Maya Burton knows she’s the last person rancher Caleb Dunne wants to see. After all, she survived the crash that killed his sister, and then left town. Now she has to convince the stubborn cowboy that she can help him save his ranch. But once she earns his trust—and his heart—will she be able to walk away?
“Why do I feel like we’re leaving for a date?”
Caleb laughed. “And your friends are the parents telling you to get home by ten?”
“Something like that. But I doubt they’ll ground me if I stay out after curfew.”
“That’s good to know.” His deep voice rippled over her skin, leaving warmth behind.
When they reached the makeshift dance floor and he pulled her in to move to the slow song the band was playing, Maya really did feel like it was a first date—butterflies, goose bumps and all.
For a moment Maya closed her eyes, breathing in Caleb’s salty, soapy scent, the heat that seemed to roll off him in waves. The way that heat seemed to permeate her and make her want him close like this, every day of her life.
His arms were so thick and strong around her back. What would it be like to finally give in?
Dear Reader,
Welcome to Shelter Creek!
Nestled in the rolling hills of Northern California, just inland from the Pacific Ocean, Shelter Creek is a quaint ranching town where locals care deeply about each other, their traditions and the land around them.
But sometimes even the most beautiful place doesn’t feel like home anymore. That’s how Caleb Dunne feels. He’s spent over a decade serving in the Marine Corps, and now he’s desperately trying to save his family ranch from debt and ruin.
Shelter Creek isn’t home for Maya Burton anymore, either. She left town right after high school, when a terrible tragedy destroyed the love she and Caleb shared. Now she’s a wildlife biologist, back in Shelter Creek to spend time with her grandmother and help ranchers like Caleb protect their livestock from predators. Only, sometimes the ranchers don’t really want her help!
I loved writing this emotional, complicated story. Maya and Caleb are strong and tough and used to taking care of themselves. Yet with the help of Maya’s grandmother, her Book Biddies book club, and a few other human and animal friends, Maya and Caleb learn to lean on others just a little more. In the process, they finally face their past and heal the hurt between them.
I hope you enjoy Reunited with the Cowboy. It’s the first book in my new series, Heroes of Shelter Creek. If you’d like to keep up with what I’m writing next, or just say hello, please look for me on the web at clairemcewen.com. I always love hearing from readers!
Claire McEwen
Reunited with the Cowboy
Claire McEwen
Claire McEwen writes stories about strong heroes and heroines who take big emotional journeys to find their happily-ever-afters. She lives by the ocean in Northern California with her family and a scruffy, mischievous terrier. When she’s not writing, Claire enjoys gardening, reading and discovering flea-market treasures. She loves to hear from readers! You can find her on most social media and at clairemcewen.com.
Books by Claire McEwen
Harlequin Superromance
A Ranch to Keep
More Than a Rancher
Convincing the Rancher
Wild Horses
Return to Marker Ranch
Home Free
His Last Rodeo
Visit the Author Profile page at www.Harlequin.com for more titles.
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This book is dedicated to my father.
He wouldn’t have enjoyed the romance much,
but I think he would have liked the cowboys.
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 FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
EXCERPT FROM THE LAWMAN’S BABY BY PATRICIA JOHNS
CHAPTER ONE
MAYA BURTON HAD always loved being alone in the wilderness. But after three hours of climbing through steep, dense, shadowy forest, it occurred to her that this nighttime hike through mountain lion territory might dim that love, just a bit.
It had felt like a good idea, back in Shelter Creek. The odds of meeting a mountain lion on the trail were low, and facing a lion seemed a lot less scary than facing the memories waiting in her hometown.
But Maya had forgotten that forests in this part of California were full of oak and bay trees that sent their branches arching right over the trail. And mountain lions loved to hang out on branches. Shining her flashlight to make sure she was safe still didn’t ease the prickly feeling on the back of her neck as she passed underneath.
When she finally reached the edge of the forest, stepping out onto the wide-open ridgetop was sheer relief. She loved studying mountain lions, but she was glad to be in a place where they couldn’t drop on her from above. Maya took in the full moon beaming in the sky, tinting the grassy meadows and scrubby slopes with silver. So much moonlight, she could put her flashlight away.
They were out here too though. Mountain lions, pumas, cougars, catamounts, ghost cats, panthers...maybe the big cats had so many names because they were so mysterious. Able to exist alongside people without anyone realizing they were even there.
Except lately the mountain lions in this area had been attacking livestock on local ranches. And people definitely noticed that.
That was why Maya was here, in the coastal hills surrounding her hometown of Shelter Creek, on a two-month assignment for the Department of Wildlife. She was going to try to find pumas. Photograph them. Count and classify them. Assess the population’s overall health and figure out why they were eating so many sheep.
But she’d rather not meet any big cats out here in the dark. “Okay, pumas,” she said to the shadowed spaces just past the moonlight. “If you’re out there, beat it. I’m coming into your territory and you are not allowed to bother me.”
She was being silly. Most big predators would prefer not to run into any humans. Usually people were a meal they didn’t have much appetite for, though once in a while...
Ugh. Don’t think about that.
What was wrong with her tonight? Maya spent weeks at a time living in remote wilderness, studying predators. She rarely worried about being attacked. But tonight she was nervous. Maybe because she was used to the Rocky Mountains, and the way mountain lions behaved when they lived in truly wild places.
Here in Northern California, the mountain lions’ habitat was broken up by ranches, towns, cities, roads, wineries and farms. Pumas with limited territory were less predictable and less afraid of people, and this knowledge made every rustle of grass blown by the breeze off the Pacific travel straight up Maya’s spine.
Or maybe she was jittery because this afternoon she’d come home for the first time in thirteen years. And promptly had a huge panic attack. That was enough to make a gal nervous. To make her decide that it would be better to jump straight into work than to sit in her grandmother’s house, bombarded by memories of the accident that had changed her life forever.
The night she’d lost control of her car and her boyfriend’s sister had been killed.
It had all come flooding back today, as Maya drove past the vintage clapboard buildings and flower-filled yards of Shelter Creek’s Main Street. Each memory was etched with vivid clarity, a high-definition slide in a tragic slideshow. The click of Julie’s seat belt as she freed herself in the back seat. Her drunken refusal when Maya told her to put it back on. Her final words, “No one wants to hear Nirvana,” as she flopped into the front seat to change the music. Her shriek of startled laughter as she lost her balance and fell onto Maya. Her weight, her flailing limbs knocking Maya’s hands off the steering wheel, blocking her view of the road ahead.
Memories of panic. Of slamming on the brakes, hitting them too hard, sending them into a skid. And one final image, the single strobe-like flash of trees looming in the headlights.
Pulled over by the side of the road today, bracing her weight on the old sign that read Welcome to Shelter Creek, Maya had gasped for breath and tried to remember what a long-ago therapist had taught her about panic attacks.
Notice what’s real. Notice what’s around you.
Maya had tried to focus on the bumpy gravel beneath her sneakers. The warm, dry air of the summer afternoon. The oily, metallic smell of her truck engine, hot after three days of driving west from her home in Boulder, Colorado. The scolding shriek of a Steller’s jay in a nearby tree.
She’d calmed herself down, but she was desperate to be alone. To have quiet. She was falling apart, and wilderness, solitude and work were the glue that could put her back together.
Luckily Grandma understood. When she’d opened her front door and found her granddaughter sitting on her front porch, stuffing scientific equipment into her backpack, she’d just given Maya a giant hug and gone to pack her some food. Grandma had accepted Maya’s quirks a long time ago.
Maya scanned the moonlit landscape one more time. No critters that she could see, though surely there were all kinds of nocturnal animals roaming these fields. “Ready or not, here I come!” she called, just to make some more noise, and started out across the ridgetop, trying to relax and finally enjoy the night.
At least being home gave her a chance to walk this trail again. She’d hiked these hills every chance she’d had when she was young. Peaceful, wild places had always called to her. Maybe because her early childhood had been filled with so much chaos before she’d come to live with Grandma in Shelter Creek. Maybe because, in wild places, things were simple. One foot in front of the other. Look, listen, think. Alone in the wilderness, other peoples’ decisions, their random acts of craziness, couldn’t affect you. Couldn’t turn your entire life upside down in an instant.
Maya shook her head, trying to shake off the memories, the feelings. Think about science, think about pumas, think about this trail and what you remember about it. At the other end of this meadow, there was a steep hill, thick with shrubs. It was the perfect place for pumas to hide while they waited for their favorite food, mule deer, to leave the safety of their thickets and venture out to graze.
That interface between shrubby hill and open grassland was where she’d set up the first motion-sensitive camera.
Hopefully she’d get a few cameras up and running tonight. They’d feed into her computer and give her a sense of the wildlife in the area. No one had surveyed these rugged hills for mountain lions in years. This would be one step toward figuring out how many of the big cats were living around here.
A swishing sound sent Maya’s pulse racing. She glanced over her shoulder. Not a lion. Just the shadowy shape of an owl, launching from the trees behind her. It soared out over the ridge and circled, eerily silent. Maya pulled in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the soothing scents of coyote brush and sage. The smell was pure memory, each inhalation bittersweet.
For so long she assumed she’d never breathe this air again. When she’d bought a one-way bus ticket to college, and what she’d prayed would be a fresh start, Maya swore she’d never look back.
But last month, when her boss at the Department of Wildlife in Boulder had mentioned this job, a short-term attempt to reduce mountain lion attacks on livestock in the area, it had felt almost serendipitous.
Maya was in a lull between research projects, and she’d been worried about her grandmother, who still lived in Shelter Creek. This past year Grandma Lillian had stopped coming out to Colorado to visit Maya, saying she was tired of traveling. She’d even stayed home for Christmas and skipped their annual spring break adventure.
Clearly Grandma was slowing down. This job could be Maya’s chance to check on her, to make sure she was still able to live on her own and care for herself.
And maybe it was time to do what her grandmother had been telling her she needed to do for years. To finally face the memories that waited for her in Shelter Creek.
That part hadn’t gone so well, so far. Maya would have to be stronger, or she’d never survive the next two months.
The terrain around the trail was changing. The brush was thicker here, providing good cover for various animals. She’d catch coyotes on her cameras for sure. She’d heard a few of them yipping and yowling in the woods about a mile back. She’d probably see plenty of skunks, raccoons and foxes on the feed too. And with good camera placement and a lot of luck, she might get footage of mountain lions.
A sharp sound cut through her thoughts. Maya froze, heart hammering, listening so hard that the silence felt loud. The sound was gone now. But there had been something. The crack of a stick underfoot. Something.
Another noise—closer this time. A rustling in the bushes. Whatever it was, it was big. Normally a mountain lion wouldn’t be this noisy, but what else could it be? Stray cattle, maybe?
The crisp snap of a branch shattered her fragile composure. Maya whirled to face the threat. A shadow loomed up from the brush. With a shriek, Maya leaped back and stumbled on the raised grass that edged the trail. Arms flailing, feet staggering, she fought for balance as her backpack pulled her down.
Oomph. Air shot from her lungs as she hit the dirt hard. She lay on her back like a stranded turtle, arms and legs useless as her pack held her down.
Clawing her way out of the confining straps, Maya jumped to her feet, groped for her safety whistle and blew hard. The shrill sound sliced open the night.
Pepper spray. It was in her belt. Wrenching it from the holster, Maya held out the can and slowly backed away from the dark shadow emerging from the bushes.
“Hang on! It’s okay!”
The unexpected voice stopped her in an instant. It wasn’t a mountain lion. It was a man.
“Who are you?” Her voice quavered, weak and thin. But she couldn’t be weak here, alone on a trail. She drew herself up to her full five-foot-one frame and gripped her pepper spray a little tighter, her pulse pounding in her ears.
The man stepped slowly onto the trail from some low bushes, where he must have been hiding. In the dim moonlight he was a dark shadow. Maya could see the outline of his cowboy hat, but not much else about him. Except in one hand, he held...a rifle.
Maya froze—the gun changing everything.
“It’s okay.” The man’s voice was low and steady, like he was trying to be reassuring. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”
Maya’s heart wouldn’t slow. Her breath wouldn’t fill her lungs. She needed to calm down, to get back in control.
But it was a strange man. With a gun. On a hiking trail. At night.
This wasn’t good. Worse than a lion. Her thoughts sped,
frantic. This trail wasn’t that far from the highway. Was he some kind of homeless wanderer? A serial killer?
She had to get a grip. She’d spent her entire adult life in the wilderness. Had never met a problem she couldn’t handle. But that wilderness had been remote and isolated. Not like this area, so close to cities and towns. And people.
She tried to put authority in her shaking tone. “I’m with the Department of Wildlife. Lower your weapon.”
He lowered it to his side and pointed it toward the ground.
“Is it loaded?”
“Yes.”
Maya’s blood chilled when she heard the safety click. He’d been ready to shoot. Could so easily have ended her life with just a twitch of a finger. The knowledge rippled down her spine, and one of her knees started shaking like it had a mind of its own.
The man spoke quietly. “Did you get hurt when you fell? Do you want some light?”
Her flashlight. She should have reached for it right away. Maya grabbed it now and directed its beam straight at his face.
“Hey!” He tilted his head down and brought a forearm across his eyes. “Can you shine that somewhere else?”
“Not until you put the gun on the ground.” She shoved every ounce of confidence she’d ever felt into her voice.
“Not easy to do when you’re blinding me.”
“Just put it down.” Her heart was going to pound right through her ribs if he didn’t get rid of that gun.
“Okay! Hang on.” He walked a few steps backward and slowly bent to set the gun on the ground. As he straightened, he tilted his hat back and looked right at her, squinting to protect his eyes. “Can you move the light now?”
She couldn’t move the light. Didn’t know if she’d ever move anything again, because now she could see his face, and it was Caleb. Caleb Dunne.
A metallic taste coated her tongue, and she swallowed hard. Both of her knees were shaking now, and the flashlight beam quivered with her trembling hand as if her entire body was rebelling at the sight of him. Rebelling against this homecoming, which was already turning into the disaster she’d always assumed it would be.
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