“How long do we have to wait after getting a marriage license? I want to start the new year as a family.”
A family. The words brought tears to her eyes. She wanted that more than anything.
“Would you mind if I adopted Lia?”
“Mind? No. You’re already her mother. We should make it legal.”
And that word made the tears spill over—mother. In that instant, a feeling of the purest peace flowed through her. Life had come full circle. Years ago, she had given up a baby for adoption. She knew now with utter certainty that she’d made the right decision. She’d given her child to a family who loved her as much as she, Kelly, loved little Lia.
The daughter of her heart.
Tanner kissed her again, and every thought went out of her head as he worked his magic on her. After a few moments she pulled back enough to tell him, “My teenage patient is going to move in with us for a few months. I hope you don’t mind.”
He laughed. “Anything you want, as long as I’ll have you. No matter what, I’ll love you forever.”
“I know.” That was the best part, she thought as she hugged him close. She did know.
Epilogue
Six years later...
At the sound of the doorbell, Lia raced down the stairs with her four-year-old brother, Dane, close on her heels. The legs of her jeans were just a little too short, Kelly noted. Again. Her hair was so blond it was almost white, while Dane had his father’s coloring.
“Annie’s here, Mommy. She’s here!”
Kelly walked—waddled—after them. Lia’s feelings were wonderfully uncomplicated. Although they’d met Annie only a few months ago, Lia thought of her as “big sister,” period.
Lia flung open the front door and launched herself at their guest. Dane, struck by a sudden fit of shyness, looped an arm around one of Kelly’s legs.
Annie hugged Lia and turned to Kelly with a smile. “Wow, you’re—”
“Huge?” Kelly supplied with a laugh. “Yes, and getting bigger every day. I’m due on January 9.”
“Less than three weeks to go.”
“You know it.”
The baby kicked. Kelly placed Annie’s hand on her baby bump so the younger woman could feel the movement. She couldn’t help remembering all those years ago, when she was young and so very frightened, feeling Annie move inside her.
While Lia’s feelings toward Annie were uncomplicated, Kelly’s were multilayered. Although she felt maternal toward the younger woman, she wasn’t her mom. Annie already had a mom. When Kelly looked at Annie, she was filled with love, wonder and maybe a hint of nostalgia for a time that never was. Mostly she felt gratitude that Annie had had such a happy childhood, and that she’d sought out her birth mother earlier that year. Annie and her parents had spent a week in Honeygrove in August. By the time they’d left, Sara seemed to have let go of the last of her reservations. She’d hugged Kelly fiercely when they said goodbye. This time, Annie had come alone, to spend the first few days of her break with them before going home for Christmas.
“I helped a cow give birth last week,” Annie said. “I did my large-animal rotation this semester.”
They heard a door close from the back of the house.
“Speaking of large animals...” Kelly said, then called out, “We’re in here!”
Tanner rounded the corner from the kitchen. He wore his typical work clothes—jeans, a dark blue button-down and heavy boots. He looked so handsome, her heart leaped. Even after six years together, seeing her husband was an instant mood boost. Especially when his whole face lit up every time he saw her, too.
The kids ran toward him, calling, “Daddy! Daddy!”
He smiled. She knew his latest project was stressful, but he didn’t bring any of that home. The moment he stepped through the door, his focus was on the family.
He and Annie greeted each other briefly; then he turned those Malone blue eyes toward Kelly. The baby kicked, but she was pretty sure that was a coincidence.
With one warm hand on her baby bump, he pressed a kiss on her lips, filled with promise for later. “Good day?”
“Very. I had two moms in labor in adjoining delivery rooms, but the babies cooperated by taking turns.”
“Sounds like you overdid it,” he said, guiding her toward the sofa.
She knew better than to argue. He’d been just as solicitous when she was pregnant with Dane, and just as stubborn about refusing to believe her when she said she felt fine.
“Annie, don’t let her move from this spot.” He lifted Kelly’s feet onto the sofa and covered her legs with a knitted blanket. She had to admit, it felt wonderful to rest. “Keep her company while the kids and I go grab some takeout.”
Annie met Kelly’s gaze, and both women suppressed smiles.
“Yes, sir,” Annie said.
As Tanner helped the kids into their winter coats, hats, and mittens, with the kids chattering all the while about the adventures they’d had today, Kelly leaned back her head. She let the sounds of her happy little family wash over her. She was blessed in every possible way.
* * * * *
Hold Me, Cowboy
Maisey Yates
Also by Maisey Yates
HQN Books
Shoulda Been a Cowboy (prequel novella)
Part Time Cowboy
Brokedown Cowboy
Bad News Cowboy
A Copper Ridge Christmas (ebook novella)
The Cowboy Way
Hometown Heartbreaker (ebook novella)
One Night Charmer
Tough Luck Hero
Last Chance Rebel
Slow Burn Cowboy
Down Home Cowboy
Wild Ride Cowboy
Christmastime Cowboy
Harlequin Desire
Take Me, Cowboy
Hold Me, Cowboy
Seduce Me, Cowboy
Claim Me, Cowboy
For more books by Maisey Yates, visit www.maiseyyates.com.
To KatieSauce, the sister I was always waiting for. What a joy it is to have you in my life.
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 1
“Creative photography,” Madison West muttered as she entered the security code on the box that contained the key to the cabin she would be staying in for the weekend.
She looked across the snowy landscape to see another home situated far too close to the place she would be inhabiting for the next couple of days. The photographs on the vacation-rental website hadn’t mentioned that she would be sharing the property with anyone else.
And obviously, the example pictures had been taken from inventive angles.
It didn’t matter. Nothing was going to change her plans. She just hoped the neighbors had earplugs. Because she was having sex this weekend. Nonstop sex.
Ten years celibate, and it was ending tonight. She had finally found the one. Not the one she was going to marry, obviously. Please. Love was for other people. People who hadn’t been tricked, manipulated and humiliated when they were seventeen.
No, she had no interest in love and marriage. But she had abundant interest in orgasms. So much interest. And she had found the perfect man to deliver them.
All day, all night, for the next forty-eight hours.
She was armed with a suitcase full of lingerie and four bottles of wine. Neighbors be damned. She’d been hoping for a little m
ore seclusion, but this was fine. It would be fine.
She unlocked the door and stepped inside, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw that the interior, at least, met with her expectations. But it was a little bit smaller than it had looked online, and she could only hope that wasn’t some sort of dark portent for the rest of her evening.
She shook her head; she was not going to introduce that concern into the mix, thank you very much. There was enough to worry about when you were thinking about breaking ten years of celibacy without adding such concerns.
Christopher was going to arrive soon, so she figured she’d better get upstairs and start setting a scene. She made her way to the bedroom, then opened her suitcase and took out the preselected bit of lace she had chosen for their first time. It was red, which looked very good on her, if a bit obvious. But she was aiming for obvious.
Christopher wasn’t her boyfriend. And he wasn’t going to be. He was a very nice equine-vitamin-supplement salesman she’d met a few weeks ago when he’d come by the West estate. She had bought some products for her horses, and they’d struck up a conversation, which had transitioned into a flirtation.
Typically, when things began to transition into flirtation, Maddy put a stop to them. But she hadn’t with him. Maybe because he was special. Maybe because ten years was just way too long. Either way, she had kept on flirting with him.
They’d gone out for drinks, and she’d allowed him to kiss her. Which had been a lot more than she’d allowed any other guy in recent years. It had reminded her how much she’d enjoyed that sort of thing once upon a time. And once she’d been reminded...well.
He’d asked for another date. She’d stopped him. Because wouldn’t a no-strings physical encounter be way better?
He’d of course agreed. Because he was a man.
But she hadn’t wanted to get involved with anyone in town. She didn’t need anyone seeing her at a hotel or his house or with his car parked at her little home on her parents’ property.
Thus, the cabin-weekend idea had been born.
She shimmied out of her clothes and wiggled into the skintight lace dress that barely covered her backside. Then she set to work fluffing her blond hair and applying some lipstick that matched the lingerie.
She was not answering the door in this outfit, however.
She put her long coat back on over the lingerie, then gave her reflection a critical look. It had been a long time since she had dressed to attract a man. Usually, she was more interested in keeping them at a distance.
“Not tonight,” she said. “Not tonight.”
She padded downstairs, peering out the window and seeing nothing beyond the truck parked at the small house across the way and a vast stretch of snow, falling harder and faster.
Typically, it didn’t snow in Copper Ridge, Oregon. You had to drive up to the mountains—as she’d done today—to get any of the white stuff. So, for her, this was a treat, albeit a chilly one. But that was perfect, since she planned to get her blood all heated and stuff.
She hummed, keeping an eye on the scene outside, waiting for Christopher to pull in. She wondered if she should have brought a condom downstairs with her. Decided that she should have.
She went back upstairs, taking them two at a time, grateful that she was by herself, since there was nothing sexy about her ascent. Then she rifled through her bag, found some protection and curled her fingers around it before heading back down the stairs as quickly as possible.
As soon as she entered the living area, the lights flickered, then died. Suddenly, everything in the house seemed unnaturally quiet, and even though it was probably her imagination, she felt the temperature drop several degrees.
“Are you kidding me?” she asked, into the darkness.
There was no answer. Nothing but a subtle creak from the house. Maybe it was all that heavy snow on the roof. Maybe it was going to collapse. That would figure.
A punishment for her thinking she could be normal and have sex.
A shiver worked its way down her spine, and she jolted.
Suddenly, she had gone from hopeful and buoyant to feeling a bit flat and tragic. That was definitely not the best sign.
No. She wasn’t doing this. She wasn’t sinking into self-pity and tragedy. Been there, done that for ten years, thank you.
Madison didn’t believe in signs. So there. She believed in fuses blowing in bad weather when overtaxed heaters had to work too hard in ancient houses. Yes, that she believed in. She also believed that she would have to wait for Christopher to arrive to fix the problem.
She sighed and then made her way over to the kitchen counter and grabbed hold of her purse as she deposited the two condoms on the counter. She pulled her phone out and grimaced when she saw that she had no signal.
Too late, she remembered that she had thought the lack of cell service might be an attraction to a place like this. That it would be nice if both she and Christopher could be cut off from the outside world while they indulged themselves.
That notion seemed really freaking stupid right now. Since she couldn’t use the phone in the house thanks to the outage, and that left her cut off from the outside world all alone.
“Oh no,” she said, “I’m the first five minutes of a crime show. I’m going to get ax-murdered. And I’m going to die a born-again virgin.”
She scowled, looking back out at the resolutely blank landscape. Christopher still wasn’t here. But it looked like the house across the way had power.
She pressed her lips together, not happy about the idea of interrupting her neighbor. Or of meeting her neighbor, since the whole point of going out of town was so they could remain anonymous and not see people.
She tightened the belt on her coat and made her way slowly out the front door, bracing herself against the arctic wind.
She muttered darkly about the cold as she made her way across the space between the houses. She paused for a moment in front of the larger cabin, lit up and looking all warm and toasty. Clearly, this was the premium accommodation. While hers was likely beset by rodents that had chewed through relevant cords.
She huffed, clutching her coat tightly as she knocked on the door. She waited, bouncing in place to try to keep her blood flowing. She just needed to call Christopher and find out when he would be arriving and, if he was still a ways out, possibly beg her neighbor for help getting the power going. Or at least help getting a fire started.
The front door swung open and Madison’s heart stopped. The man standing there was large, so tall that she only just came up to the middle of his chest. He was broad, his shoulders well muscled, his waist trim. He had the kind of body that came not from working out but from hard physical labor.
Then she looked up. Straight nose, square jaw, short brown hair and dark eyes that were even harder than his muscles. And far too familiar.
“What are you doing here?”
* * *
Sam McCormack gritted his teeth against the sharp tug of irritation that assaulted him when Madison West asked the question that had been on his own lips.
“I rented the place,” he responded, not inviting her in. “Though I could ask you the same question.”
She continued to do a little bounce in place, her arms folded tight against her body, her hands clasped beneath her chin. “And you’d get the same answer,” she said. “I’m across the driveway.”
“Then you’re at the wrong door.” He made a move to shut said door, and she reached out, stopping him.
“Sam. Do you always have to be this unpleasant?”
It was a question that had been asked of him more than once. And he gave his standard answer. “Yes.”
“Sam,” she said, sounding exasperated. “The power went out, and I’m freezing to death. Can I come in?”
He let out a long-suffering
sigh and stepped to the side. He didn’t like Madison West. He never had. Not from the moment he had been hired on as a farrier for the West estate eight years earlier. In all the years since he’d first met Madison, since he’d first started shoeing her horses, he’d never received one polite word from her.
But then, he’d never given one either.
She was sleek, blonde and freezing cold—and he didn’t mean because she had just come in from the storm. The woman carried her own little snow cloud right above her head at all times, and he wasn’t a fan of ice princesses. Still, something about her had always been like a burr beneath his skin that he couldn’t get at.
“Thank you,” she said crisply, stepping over the threshold.
“You’re rich and pretty,” he said, shutting the door tight behind her. “And I’m poor. And kind of an ass. It wouldn’t do for me to let you die out there in a snowdrift. I would probably end up getting hung.”
Madison sniffed, making a show of brushing snowflakes from the shoulders of her jacket. “I highly doubt you’re poor,” she said drily.
She wasn’t wrong. A lot had changed since he’d gone to work for the Wests eight years ago. Hell, a lot had changed in the past year.
The strangest thing was that his art had taken off, and along with it the metalwork and blacksmithing business he ran with his brother, Chase.
But now he was busier coming up with actual fine-art pieces than he was doing daily grunt work. One sale on a piece like that could set them up for the entire quarter. Strange, and not where he’d seen his life going, but true.
He still had trouble defining himself as an artist. In his mind, he was just a blacksmith cowboy. Most at home on the family ranch, most proficient at pounding metal into another shape. It just so happened that for some reason people wanted to spend a lot of money on that metal.
“Well,” he said, “perception is everything.”
She looked up at him, those blue eyes hitting him hard, like a punch in the gut. That was the other obnoxious thing about Madison West. She was pretty. She was more than pretty. She was the kind of pretty that kept a man up all night, hard and aching, with fantasies about her swirling in his head.
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