Texas Heartthrob

by Jean Brashear

  “In a hurry now?” Laughter followed him to the front door, where his father and mother stood greeting a guest.

  “Dad, Mom, I’m leaving in the morning for North Carolina. You’ll forgive me, right? I have to—”

  His parents stepped aside.

  Liam went mute.

  “I hope you haven’t bought your ticket yet, sweetheart,” his mother said, patting his arm as she and his father left the room.

  “Hi,” Raina said, her stance tentative. “Merry Christmas.”

  Liam couldn’t seem to find his voice.

  “I, uh—I know this is a family time, but—” She fell silent, her gaze filled with nerves.

  “You look different,” he finally managed. “But good, Raina. Really good.” Stronger somehow, not so desperate. Not starved or haunted. Her hair was past her ears, softly curling, and her face had filled out.

  His heart sank. She didn’t need him after all.

  “You look like a movie star.”

  Liam swore beneath his breath. “But it’s not who I am inside.” He paused to summon his arguments.

  “I only meant that…you’re more like your pictures in magazines or on the screen now. I’m not used to seeing you with blond hair.” Her hands clenched into fists, and she tucked them into her coat pockets.

  “It was always blond, except—” When you met me. Sorrow swept over him at the subterfuge that had hurt her. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I understand why you did it.”

  Silence fell between them once more. Liam hadn’t felt this awkward since junior high.

  He decided to go for broke. “I was coming to get you.”

  Her head rose. “What?”

  “I couldn’t wait any longer. I mean, I haven’t forgotten that I promised you, and God knows I can’t afford to be making any more mistakes where you’re concerned, but—” His gaze locked on hers. The room narrowed to her face and what her expression would reveal. His heartbeat drummed in his ears. “I thought that maybe you should hear that you might not need me, but—” He took a deep breath. “I need you, Raina.”

  Her eyes widened. “You—” She blinked and stared at him for endless seconds.

  Finally, she gave a faint, shaky laugh. “I was certain you’d forget me once you got back to your glamorous life. You’d be better off if you had.”

  “You’re wrong on both counts.”

  She frowned. “Charlie told me last week about all your calls. I’d wondered why Noah was helping me, so I asked him. He admitted that at first it was because of you, but—” She shook her head. “He said that he thought Gran would be proud of me after all.” Tears gathered on her thick, dark lashes.

  “Gran had no use for cowards, though. I’ve wanted to call you a thousand times, but—” Her voice grew hoarse. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me. It took a while to work up my nerve, but I had to say this in person.”

  Liam tensed as she squared her shoulders. “I’ve proven to myself that I can live without you, Liam, but…I miss you.” At his sudden stir, she held up a warning hand. “Not the movie star, but the guy with the blisters. The man who washed my hair and—” She drew in a deep breath. “Who taught me about passion. Who made me remember how to laugh.” One tear fell.

  “You miss me,” he repeated, just to be sure he wasn’t hearing things.

  She nodded.

  “Thank God.” Liam closed his eyes for a second in pure thanksgiving. “All I’ve wanted since the day I left was to hear from you.”

  He stepped forward and gathered her into his arms.

  When their bodies touched, they both sighed. Settled.

  Liam could finally breathe. “Let me be with you, Raina. I only have one more film I’m obligated to do, and then I’ll quit. You can go with me on location or I’ll come to you every day off,” he whispered fiercely into her hair. “I’ll live wherever you want, sweetheart, just don’t make me live without you anymore.”

  “I don’t want to,” she murmured, tightening her arms around his waist. Her head rose suddenly. “You’re all right?” She touched his waist. “The wound doesn’t hurt?”

  “The place that hurts is higher.” He lifted her hand and placed it over his heart. “And I think you’ve got the only remedy.”

  She worried at her lower lip. “I’ll always be an addict, Liam. There’s no cure for me. The gossip columns will have a heyday if my name gets linked to yours.”

  “If I’m not acting, I’m old news. They won’t care.” He stroked her cheek. “And your name is definitely getting linked with mine, if I have my way.”

  “You shouldn’t quit acting. You’re too talented.”

  “I already told my agent I’m taking a year off after the next film. I have enough money, and there are other things I can do. We’ll have time to think about the next step.”

  She looked troubled. “Caring about me has already cost you too much.”

  He tried for a jest. “Maybe I want to try something new. Get fat and bald.”

  A tiny smile curved her lips, but her eyes remained uneasy.

  “Are you happy in the mountains? Do you have plans that can’t include me?”

  “I…it’s lonely there, but it’s peaceful.” She chewed at her lip. “But I have to do something right with my life, Liam, more than just staying clean. I was thinking—” She faltered.

  “What?” He tilted up her chin.

  “There are other women like me, some of them in jail. They don’t have hope. They don’t believe they can win. I want to figure out a way to help them get a new start, but I’m not sure if I’m the right person.”

  Liam smiled at her. “You absolutely are.” He could see the doubts shimmering and redoubled his efforts. “I understand that you’ll always have to deal with battles I won’t, but I believe in you. You’ll make it—and I want to be with you all the way. Not because you can’t do it alone, but because…I love you, Raina Donovan.”

  Her eyes went wide. “How can you be sure?” she whispered. “We were only together for a matter of days. It’s too soon to make such a big commitment.”

  Liam’s heart sank, but he tried to keep in mind what Jilly had said. “Is it that you don’t have feelings for me? Or are you afraid you can’t trust me?”

  “No,” she said. “It’s not you. I—” She glanced away. Pressed her fingers to her mouth.

  Then she looked up at him, wet blue eyes searching. “I knew I loved you before you ever left, but—”

  “But what? I love you. You love me. What else matters?”

  Her voice was so soft he almost couldn’t hear her. “This…you…it’s too much like a dream. I’m afraid of dreams, Liam. They vanish just when you need them most.”

  “Not this one. We won’t let it. It’s too important, and we’re both too stubborn to let it slip away.” He held her securely within the circle of his arms. “Stay with me, Raina. Build a life with me—I don’t care where. I’ve got plenty of money and a knack for making more. Let me share it. Maybe we can do something for those women with it. And I’d like to pamper you, but I’ll live with kerosene lamps if that’s what you want…the with you part is all that’s important. I was happier chopping your wood than I’ve been since you sent me away.”

  “Being apart was miserable for me, too, but—”

  “No more buts.” He silenced her with gentle fingers. “Have Christmas with us. Spend time with my family and see if you like it here. If you don’t want to come with me on the next film, this would be a safe place to stay. My family and friends won’t let the media bother you.”

  “I couldn’t impose—”

  “Raina, I can’t lose you again. I want to marry you.” He focused on the blue eyes that would determine his future. “Please…give us a chance. Fight for us the way you’ve struggled to save yourself. You’re my hero, Raina Donovan.”

  “I’m not.” She lifted herself to tiptoe, clasping his collar. “You’ll never know what you did for me. How you broug
ht me hope. You’re the real hero.” She pressed her lips to his.

  “I don’t care about top billing,” he said, holding on for dear life. “As long as I get the girl.” He slanted his mouth over hers in a kiss as achingly sweet as it was powerful. “Say yes, Raina.”

  “I…” She hesitated.

  He held his breath.

  Then she smiled, bright and free of shadows. “Yes.”

  Liam let out a shout and kissed her hard, then picked her up and twirled her around, their shining eyes locked on each other.

  Behind them, the house erupted into cheers and fond laughter.

  ~THE END~

  Thank you for letting me share my stories with you!

  Next up is Liam’s brother Rafe’s story, TEXAS HEALER:

  Brilliant and driven cardiac surgeon Diana Morgan’s whole life centers around her career, now threatened by an injury that may prove insurmountable. She is desperate enough to accept a forced sabbatical to the Davis Mountains of West Texas, where she meets Rafael Sandoval, a former Special Forces medic who understands exactly how it feels to have the life you planned taken from you. After losing his men and nearly losing his life, Rafe has returned home and found a measure of peace combining his Western medical training with the curanderismo or folk healing traditions of his Latino heritage.

  Diana desperately needs the healing Rafe is dedicated to providing, but his hard-won peace is threatened by the growing attachment neither welcomes. Too many people in his valley count on him for the only medical help available for many miles, and too many lives back in her world—one he once wanted with everything in him—will be lost if she cannot regain her skills. But healing her means losing her, for she can’t stay in his world…and he can’t leave.

  Start reading TEXAS HEALER today!

  If you enjoyed TEXAS HEARTTHROB, I would be very grateful if you would help others find this book by recommending it to your friends on Goodreads or by writing a review. If you would like to be informed of new releases and be eligible for subscriber-only special discounts, please sign up for my newsletter here. You can also follow me on BookBub here.

  I love hearing from you, so please contact me through any of the options at the end of this book.

  Thanks!

  Jean

  Please enjoy an excerpt from TEXAS HEALER:

  In the distance, she saw a big man on an Appaloosa stallion, the two strong and sure and beautiful in the crisp morning light. Mesmerized, she hadn’t realized how still she’d become until she jolted when the old woman spoke.

  “On horseback, Rafael forgets the ghosts that haunt him. When he rides is the only time he is whole and young again.”

  Rafael? The caretaker Rafe? Is that what he told you? she remembered the old woman asking. Who was this man who fixed pipes, who studied herbal medicine, who rode as though born to it?

  “Mrs. Sandoval,” she began.

  “Rosaria, please.”

  Diana nodded. “Rosaria, what did you mean? He said he was the caretaker. They told me there would be—”

  Rosaria smiled. “Did he say those words or did he simply let you believe them?”

  She’d been made a fool. “What do you mean?”

  The small brown hand came to rest on her shoulder and once again, Diana felt the unusual warmth and comfort. “The cabin belongs to Rafael, as does the land bordering mine. On occasion he leases the cabin, More often, it shelters friends in need of retreat.”

  She’d ordered him around and tried to give him a tip last night, then wondered at his brusque refusal. Her cheeks burned. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

  The ancient hand soothed up and down her arm. “My grandson has his own battles to fight.”

  “What kind of battles?” As soon as she said it, Diana knew the man she’d met wouldn’t appreciate her prying.

  “He almost died, but he would not let death take him.” Sharp, proud eyes turned to hers. “Rafael was in the Special Forces.”

  “Special Forces? But they’re—” Warriors, she thought. Deadly ones. She tried to picture the man she’d met as a warrior and found that she had little trouble.

  “He is retired now, after a serious injury. They said he would never walk again, but my Rafael has always been proud and stubborn. He proved them wrong.”

  The limp. Diana remembered now the faint limp that had seemed so out of place in the tall, striking man. She’d been too tired to notice much, but she remembered his unusual light eyes, so at odds with the black hair and sharp-bladed, copper-skinned face. “How did he get those eyes?” she mused, unaware that she’d said the words aloud.

  “Rafael is half Anglo on his mother’s side. It has always been a battle for both him and his brother Alejandro—this feeling of being caught in two worlds.” Then she frowned. “He helps me with my patients, but he does not yet believe in the role he will play.”

  Patients? Diana was just about to ask more, when the hoofbeats grew louder, commanding her attention.

  With the previous night’s exhaustion now vanquished, Diana took a new look at him as he dismounted and tied the reins to Rosaria’s fence. He stood several inches taller than her, slightly too gaunt for his big frame, deep lines carved in a face suited to a painting of Aztec warriors standing their ground against invading conquistadors. He even had the long black hair.

  The only thing that didn’t match was those eyes—not gray, not blue, so light they seemed to see more deeply than most. The eyes of a mage, of a sorcerer, irises banded by a dark ring, framed by heavy brows and sooty, thick lashes.

  “Good morning, m’ijito,” the old woman said. “Did you come for breakfast?”

  Diana snapped out of thoughts she could only call fanciful, totally uncharacteristic of her.

  Rafe met her gaze, his own scrutiny intense and unwelcome. Then he turned to his grandmother, his harsh features breaking into a smile of deep affection. “If I had, I’d be at least two hours late, wouldn’t I?”

  Rosaria smiled. “Another meal would not hurt you. You need more meat on your bones.”

  “You’d feed me until I looked like Dulcita.” He grinned, turning to Diana. “I see you and my grandmother have met already.”

  “She was—” Diana gestured toward the garden. “She showed me her plants.”

  “Diana is a good audience for an old woman’s chattering,” Rosaria said. “We are about to have tea. Would you like to join us?”

  “I should go,” Diana interjected. “I need to finish my run.”

  “Perhaps you should not try it again so soon after losing your balance,” Rosaria murmured.

  The pale eyes sharpened on her. “You were running?”

  She didn’t like his tone. “I’ve run every morning for years. I know what I’m doing.”

  “You got light-headed, right?”

  She shrugged. “After my accident, I had to stop until recently. I’ll get back in shape soon.” Not that it’s any of your business, she didn’t add.

  “You’re here from Dallas?”

  She nodded.

  “You’ve come nearly five thousand feet in altitude. Give your body a chance to acclimatize before you try running again.”

  “How long?” Good grief. She should have thought of that herself.

  “Ease up the rest of the week. Walk instead of run, drink plenty of water and rest more often. By the weekend, your body should have adjusted, but work up to your normal running distance in stages for another few days after that.”

  To deny his expertise would be uncharitable. “I guess you learn about physical conditioning in the Special Forces.”

  His gaze shot to his grandmother’s. “Someone’s been talking out of school.”

  Rosaria only smiled serenely, placing one hand on his arm. “My Rafael es un médico. He cared for all the members of his team.”

  “Médico? You were a medic?”

  Rafael nodded and looked away, a muscle in his jaw jumping.

  “My grandson is a healer, just as I am.” />
  Diana frowned. “Are there no doctors nearby?”

  Rosaria shook her head. “The nearest medical facility is one hundred thirty-five miles away.”

  “What sort of equipment do you have?” she asked him.

  Rosaria answered first. “Our ways do not require medical instruments or machines.”

  “But how can you possibly—”

  “Abuelita—” He intervened, respect and affection softening his tone. “Dr. Morgan said she must go.”

  Rosaria’s gaze took in her grandson’s obvious discomfort. Shaking her head, she lifted wise eyes to Diana. “If you will wait a moment, I will bring you the tea we discussed. Please avoid caffeine and drink it, instead.” She aimed a pointed glance at Diana’s hand. “It will be a good first step on your road to healing.” After a gentle pat on Diana’s shoulder, she turned toward her house.

  With her went all warmth. Rafe shifted his weight, and Diana remembered his injury.

  “Would you like to sit down?”

  “No.” He crossed his arms over his chest. Silence clogged the air around them.

  “You don’t have to wait with me,” she said. “I’m sure you’re very busy—”

  He didn’t let her finish. “My grandmother has delivered babies, healed the sick, comforted the dying for many years before I was born. The people here respect her and love her. What she does may not conform to the training either of us received, but it works for them. They are not stupid or ignorant, only poor. She is not a quack. Whatever your opinion of the medical value of what she does,” he said, “I would appreciate it if you would use some restraint in letting your cynicism show. She has no bias against doctors and often refers patients when needed, but most of them cannot pay for expensive medical care. Her way is ancient and honored, no matter that you believe it to be primitive.” His jaw flexed again. “The scalpel, Dr. Morgan, does not cure all ills.”

  That stung. “I meant no disrespect to your grandmother. I think she’s a very kind and compassionate woman.”