The Cowboy's Autumn Fall (Grass Valley Cowboys Book 4)

by Shanna Hatfield

  Grass Valley Cowboys Book 4

  by

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  SHANNA HATFIELD

  The Cowboy’s Autumn Fall

  Copyright © 2012 by Shanna Hatfield

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  For permission requests, please contact the author, with a subject line of "permission request” at the email address below or through her website.

  Shanna Hatfield

  shanna@shannahatfield.com

  shannahatfield.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Praise for The Cowboy’s Autumn Fall

  “This is one of the best love story series I have read.”

  Amazon Reviewer

  “I love this series. All of the men are of course ideal. And the chemistry is great!”

  Amazon Reviewer

  “Shanna Hatfield has a way of bringing her stories to life that makes it hard to put the book down (or should I say hard to walk away from my PC).”

  Amazon Reviewer

  “Enjoyed every one of the Grass Valley Cowboy stories and this one is every bit as good.”

  Amazon Reviewer

  “I enjoyed following the lives of all the people in the story. Each book added to the lives of the previous books and kept all the characters in all the books.”

  Amazon Reviewer

  Sweet romance is the stuff of fairytales

  Or so one cowboy thinks until falls in love...

  Brice Morgan thought love at first sight was some ridiculous notion of school girls and old ladies who read too many romance novels. At least he does until he falls hard and fast for an intriguing and thoroughly perplexing woman at a friend’s wedding.

  Bailey Bishop attends her cousin’s wedding with no intention of extending her brief visit to Oregon. Married to her career as a paleontologist, Bailey tries to ignore her intense attraction to her cousin’s best friend, Brice. Ready to return home to Denver, Bailey instead accepts the opportunity to explore a new dig site not far from the family’s ranch in Grass Valley. Can she keep her feelings for Brice from derailing her plans for the future?

  ~*~

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  Shanna’s Newsletter

  Books by Shanna Hatfield

  FICTION

  HISTORICAL

  Dacey - Bride of North Carolina

  Baker City Brides

  Crumpets and Cowpies

  Thimbles and Thistles

  Pendleton Petticoats

  Aundy

  Caterina

  Ilsa

  Marnie

  Lacy

  Bertie

  Hardman Holidays

  The Christmas Bargain

  The Christmas Token

  The Christmas Calamity

  The Christmas Vow

  CONTEMPORARY

  Love at the 20-Yard Line

  The Coffee Girl

  The Christmas Crusade

  Learnin’ the Ropes

  QR Code Killer

  Rodeo Romance

  The Christmas Cowboy

  Wrestlin’ Christmas

  Capturing Christmas

  Grass Valley Cowboys

  The Cowboy’s Christmas Plan

  The Cowboy’s Spring Romance

  The Cowboy’s Summer Love

  The Cowboy’s Autumn Fall

  The Cowboy’s New Heart

  The Cowboy’s Last Goodbye

  The Women of Tenacity

  A Prelude (Short Story)

  Heart of Clay

  Country Boy vs. City Girl

  Not His Type

  NON-FICTION

  Farm Girl

  Fifty Dates with Captain Cavedweller

  Recipes of Love

  Savvy Entertaining Series

  Savvy Holiday Entertaining

  Savvy Spring Entertaining

  Savvy Summer Entertaining

  Savvy Autumn Entertaining

  To those brave enough to fall…

  may there always be

  loving arms to catch you.

  Chapter One

  “He who would not be idle, let him fall in love.”

  Ovid

  “Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting,” Brice Morgan muttered to himself as he made his way through the crowd gathered for Trent and Lindsay Thompson’s wedding reception.

  If he had to watch one more couple gazing dreamily at each other, Brice thought he might be sick. Enduring all the romance he could handle for one evening, he sat down next to his sister, Tess, at a large table beneath one of the white canopies. Leaning back in his chair, he shook his head in irritation and sighed.

  “Maybe you need to work some moves like that into your routine, man,” Travis Thompson said, leaning around Tess and thumping Brice on the shoulder. Travis and Brice, just days apart in age, had been best friends since they were old enough to push each other down.

  Following the direction of Tess’ pointing finger, Brice watched Travis’ adopted six-year-old niece, Cass, dance with the wild abandon of a happy child next to her uncle and his new bride. Arms flailing, red curls bouncing, the little girl spun around and around, giggling with giddy excitement.

  “That would definitely get you some attention,” Tess teased, offering Brice a sassy grin. “I’m sure all the girls would be lining up to dance with you.”

  “Definitely,” Travis said, nodding his head in agreement. “Anyone under the age of ten or over the age of seventy would be putty in your hands.”

  Before Brice could form a snappy comeback, Travis leaned over and whispered in Tess’ ear, making her blush.

  Rolling his eyes, he realized sitting next to Travis and Tess, basking in their newly declared love for one another, wasn’t the best choice if he was trying to get away from the love fest this wedding was turning out to be.

  Travis’ older brother Trent was goofy in love with his bride of a few hours. If that wasn’t bad enough, Travis’ oldest brother Trey and his wife Cady were sitting across the table from him whispering sweet nothings to each other and looking more in love than a couple wed eight months had a right to.

  Brice sighed again and swiped a hand over his face. All this talk of love and romance was ridiculous. It was the stuff that kept school girls twittering and old ladies and love-starved women buying romance novels. In his opinion, it was a bunch of mush perpetuated by florists, candy companies, and sappy-minded idiots.

  “You okay, BB?” Tess asked, using the nickname she’d given him when she first learned to talk. Less than a year apart in age, Tess couldn’t quite say “baby” so her brother was stuck bearing her version of the term.

  “Just great,” Brice said, trying to hide his annoyance as Trey stood and took Cady’s hand in his, kissing her fingers.

  “Cady, darlin’, will you please dance with me?” Trey turned on his charm. He gave his wife a pleading look, one that everyone knew inspired Cady to do whatever Trey wanted. “I know you’re pooped and you shucked off your shoes half an hour ago, so you can waltz out there b
arefoot for all I care, but come dance with me. Please?”

  “I’d be honored, boss-man,” Cady said, getting up from the table and stuffing her tired feet back into her high heels, letting Trey pull her toward the dance-floor.

  Swallowing down another sigh, Brice supposed he should be used to the Thompson brothers and their romantic tendencies by now. It was practically legendary in their small community of Grass Valley, Oregon.

  Growing up nearby, Brice, Tess, and their brother Ben spent as much time here at the Triple T Ranch with the three Thompson boys as they did at home on the Running M Ranch. That was before Trey, Trent, and Travis were all love struck.

  Sitting back in his chair and looking around, he had never seen the Triple T look quite so nice, especially in mid-August. From the fresh coats of paint on the outbuildings to the flowers blooming profusely in every available corner, the ranch looked like it could be featured in a home and garden magazine.

  The big yard was set up like a fairyland with billowing tents, enough white lights to line the landing strips at PDX, and a portable dance floor where he could see Trey drop Cady into a dip while Trent twirled Lindsay in his arms.

  The only reason Tess and Travis weren’t out on the dance floor was due to the pair of torn hamstrings Travis received the previous month when he rescued a little boy windsurfing. Only able to walk for short stretches without crutches, dancing wasn’t on Travis’ current list of activities approved by his physical therapist, who also happened to be Tess.

  “I hate for you to miss all the dancing, honeybee,” Travis said, rubbing his hand across Tess’ shoulders. “Why don’t the two of you go show them how it’s done?”

  Tess kissed Travis’ cheek and gently patted his leg. “The only guy I want to dance with is you, Trav. I’m fine sitting on the sidelines tonight.”

  “Give me a break,” Brice muttered under his breath, again rolling his eyes. If those two kept this up, he might even regret the extensive efforts he made all summer to get them together.

  “I heard that,” Tess said, leaning closer to Brice and smacking his arm. “What’s gotten into you tonight, grumpy britches? You’re usually the life of the party.”

  Brice shrugged. His sister was right. Usually the first one on the dance floor and the last one to leave, Brice loved to have fun, be the center of attention, and keep everyone entertained. Tonight, he just wasn’t interested. Maybe it was because he was here all alone. After spending weeks getting rid of the last little twit who’d sunk her claws into him, Brice was tired of playing games, tired of the meaningless relationships, tired of looking for someone special.

  “Excuse me,” a soft voice said next to Brice and he turned to look into the face of a lovely girl. Petite with golden-blond curls cascading down her back and sparkling blue eyes, a dimple popped out in her cheek when she smiled at him. “Would you like to dance?”

  “Absolutely,” Brice said, getting to his feet and taking her hand as she walked toward the dance floor.

  “You must be related to Travis’ girlfriend,” the girl said as they settled into the rhythm of a moderately fast dance. “You look a lot alike.”

  “Tess is my sister,” Brice said, smiling at his dance partner, admiring her well-shaped form and beautiful face. “How do you know Travis?”

  “He’s my cousin,” the girl said, bringing her dimple back out of hiding with a big smile. “I’m Sierra Bishop. My mom and Denni Thompson are sisters.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Brice Morgan and I’ve known the whole Thompson clan since I was born,” Brice said, admiring the way Sierra moved on the dance floor while casting teasing glances his direction. She was not only a very good dancer, but also an accomplished flirt. He had met a few of the Thompson boys’ cousins, but obviously they’d been holding out on him with this branch of the family tree.

  Deciding the evening had just gotten a lot more interesting, Brice asked Sierra for the next dance and they both grinned when Travis limped onto the dance floor, pulling Tess behind him.

  The band played Blake Shelton’s Honey Bee, thanks to Trent and Trey’s prompting, drawing the interest of all the guests. Most everyone knew the song was the inspiration behind Travis’ nickname for Tess. As the crowd clapped and cheered, Tess’ cheeks turned bright red, but she buried her face against Travis’ chest and kept on dancing.

  “Do you think there’ll be another wedding soon?” Sierra asked, eying the couple as they became much more involved in sharing loving glances than dancing.

  “Probably,” Brice commented, glad to see both Tess and Travis so deliriously happy, even if it was a little nauseating.

  As the song ended, Brice walked Sierra over to the refreshment table and handed her a glass of sweet tea. They were standing there talking when a young woman came up beside Sierra and whispered something to her before pouring herself a cup of punch.

  Studying the two of them, Brice could see a resemblance although the girls didn’t seem to share much in common. Where Sierra was short and bubbly, the other girl was older and taller with an aura of self-confidence. Her rich honey-gold hair fell in short curls above her shoulders and Brice would have guessed her to be about five eight or so if she’d kick off her incredibly high heels.

  Turning to look at him with eyes the same brilliant turquoise shade of blue as Trey Thompson’s, Brice thought he’d been struck by lightning when an electrifying jolt shook him from the top of his head right down to the toes of his polished cowboy boots.

  Half expecting smoke to billow around him, Brice forced himself to stand still.

  “Brice Morgan, this is my sister, Bailey,” Sierra said, putting a hand on the arm of the woman Brice decided in the last dozen seconds he was going to one day marry.

  Brice leaned forward and offered his hand which Bailey took in hers. Ignoring the snap of heat that shot up her arm at his touch, Bailey studied the tall, muscled man before her and liked what she saw.

  “A pleasure to meet you Mr. Morgan,” Bailey said in a smooth voice that made Brice think of something silky and rich. Her hand in his felt soft and so right, he hated to let it go.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Bishop,” Brice said, reaching to doff a hat he forgot he wasn’t wearing. Quickly recovering, he gave her his most charming smile. “May I ask you for a dance?”

  “You may,” she said, handing her cup of punch to Sierra and placing her hand back in Brice’s as he led her to the dance floor. Bailey glanced over her shoulder and caught the look of surprise on her sister’s pretty face. This was the first time any member of the male species chose Bailey over the perfectly perky Sierra.

  Looking into the bottomless depths of her eyes, Brice realized he had never, in his twenty-five years of living, felt this way about another person. While his heart pounded wildly, the rest of the world suddenly disappeared, leaving him with his attention completely focused on Bailey.

  Trying to maintain his composure, Brice was glad the dance was a slow one. It gave him time to start a conversation with the woman in his arms.

  “Welcome to Grass Valley, Miss Bishop,” Brice said, maintaining the formal tone of their introduction.

  “Thank you, Mr. Morgan. We’ve been here a few times over the years, but it’s always fun to visit,” Bailey said, glancing up at Brice. Even with her heels on, she had to tip her head back slightly to study his face. Lush brown hair was cut short and styled with a spiky wave in the front. Eyes the color of root beer held a spark of mischief and his teeth gleamed white when he smiled. Deciding he was definitely handsome, she smiled back at him. “Please, call me Bailey.”

  “Bailey,” Brice repeated, liking the sound of her name on his lips. What he’d like even more was the taste of her lips on his. He supposed that was pushing things a bit since they’d just met a few minutes ago.

  Carrying on a conversation about generalities, they were oblivious that the tempo changed as they continued to dance the next three dances in each other’s arms. Finally, Brice asked Bailey if she’d l
ike something to drink and escorted her back to the refreshment tent. Sierra was long gone, so Brice poured Bailey another cup of punch and fished a bottle of water out of an ice-filled tub for himself.

  Bailey finished her punch in a few swallows and refilled it while Brice was looking around for an empty table where they could sit and chat.

  Taking her elbow, he walked her to a table where her aunt sat visiting with his parents.

  “Bailey, honey, I see you met our Brice,” Denni Thompson said when Bailey sat down beside her. “This is Mike and Michele Morgan, Brice’s parents.”

  “How lovely to meet you both,” Bailey said, suddenly feeling a little light headed. She probably needed to eat something, since she’d missed eating her dinner, distracted by some work details she’d received. Sierra told her to put away her phone and enjoy the reception, so she of course ignored her sister and responded to three text messages. By that time, her plate had disappeared and she was left watching Sierra work her charm on the single male population attending the wedding.

  Denni put her arm around Bailey and gave her a hug as they all visited for a while. Bailey felt oddly detached from herself, being chatty and carefree. Normally quiet and reserved, Bailey much preferred to sit back and analyze the conversations going on around her than actively participate. She assumed her behavior was due to the fact they had flown in from Denver that afternoon and she was a little punchy from the excitement of the wedding.

  “Brice, why don’t you get us all some cake,” Michele said, looking at her son as he gazed adoringly at Denni’s niece.