Rescuing the Cowboy

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by Cathy McDavid




  WRONGED MAN. RIGHT WOMAN?

  After three years of wrongful imprisonment, Quinn Crenshaw is ready to rebuild his life and find the daughter he has never met. A job training horses at his cousin’s Arizona cattle ranch becomes something wonderful when Quinn meets Summer Goodwyn and her special-needs little boy. The single mother believes in him…and is raising this former rodeo champion’s spirits sky-high!

  The equine therapy program is helping Summer’s young son connect with others—including one super-attractive rancher determined to be a father to his own little girl. Despite the obstacles in their path, can she make Quinn see they have a future worth fighting for?

  Knowing it was wrong, he leaned in and lowered his head…

  The temptation to inhale her subtle fragrance and hear the slight intake of her breath was too hard to resist.

  “Quinn.” His name was a whisper on her lips. “I wish things were different.”

  “I do, too.”

  Kissing her would be a simple matter of capturing her mouth with his. He didn’t, though his gut told him she’d respond with an ardor she kept hidden.

  “I…um…” She hesitated.

  “Right.” Hadn’t he vowed mere minutes ago to avoid causing her trouble?

  Quinn retreated a step, then walked away. Mistakes were easy to make, and he’d committed too many already in his life.

  Dear Reader,

  I’m always a little sad to see a series end, especially when the last book is meaningful to me. Rescuing the Cowboy, like the three previous books in this Mustang Valley series, has a deeply emotional theme and characters dealing with overwhelming obstacles. It also features an ex-con hero, something I’ve been wanting to write for a long time.

  When planning the book, I tried to choose an unlikely heroine for my hero because, well, those make for the most interesting stories. Summer Goodwyn’s eight-year-old son is severely autistic. On top of that, she’s raising him mostly without help as her ex-husband is unable to cope with their son’s diagnosis. Summer secretly longs for romance but has no expectations, even after meeting Quinn Crenshaw. Wrongfully imprisoned for over two years, Quinn was recently released after new DNA evidence regarding his case surfaced. Despite being innocent, people still treat him like an ex-con. Everyone except Summer, that is. Her faith in him, however, doesn’t stop the onslaught of negative assumptions and false accusations hurled at him. Not long after Quinn arrives in Mustang Valley, his job at his cousins’ cattle ranch and his budding relationship with Summer are jeopardized.

  There’s a lot for Summer and Quinn to overcome in this story. Finding a way to give them a happy ending, while also wrapping up the series on an uplifting note, was both challenging and rewarding. I hope the magic of their relationship touches and inspires you as much as it did me.

  Warmest wishes,

  Cathy McDavid

  Facebook.com/cathy.mcdavid

  @CathyMcDavid

  cathymcdavid.com

  RESCUING

  THE COWBOY

  Cathy McDavid

  Since 2006, New York Times bestselling author Cathy McDavid has been happily penning contemporary Westerns for Harlequin. Every day, she gets to write about handsome cowboys riding the range or busting a bronc. It’s a tough job, but she’s willing to make the sacrifice. Cathy shares her Arizona home with her own real-life sweetheart and a trio of odd pets. Her grown twins have left to embark on lives of their own, and she couldn’t be prouder of their accomplishments.

  Books by Cathy McDavid

  Harlequin American Romance

  Mustang Valley

  Last Chance Cowboy

  Her Cowboy’s Christmas Wish

  Baby’s First Homecoming

  Cowboy for Keeps

  Her Holiday Rancher

  Come Home, Cowboy

  Having the Rancher’s Baby

  Sweetheart, Nevada

  The Rancher’s Homecoming

  His Christmas Sweetheart

  Most Eligible Sheriff

  Reckless, Arizona

  More Than a Cowboy

  Her Rodeo Man

  The Bull Rider’s Son

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Get rewarded every time you buy a Harlequin ebook!

  Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards

  http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010002

  To Mike, as always.

  What they say is true,

  it only takes a moment.

  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

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from The Cowboy Takes a Wife by Trish Milburn

  Chapter One

  Shopping in a small-town market shouldn’t be a nightmare. Four thousand square feet. Three aisles crammed with merchandise. A modest dairy and meat department. Fresh produce on Wednesdays: be sure and get there early before it’s all gone. A completely uneventful and uninteresting excursion for most people.

  But not for Summer Goodwyn. Yet, what choice did she have? She’d promised to bring homemade oatmeal cookies—without raisins—to the party later today at Dos Estrellas Ranch. After a thorough search of her pantry had netted only half the necessary ingredients, a trip to the market couldn’t be avoided.

  Oatmeal without raisins was the only kind of cookies her son, Teddy, ate. If she offered him something else, he might have a meltdown, and that would ruin the party.

  She glanced down at him, sitting in the shopping cart basket, shoulders hunched. His rhythmic back and forth motion could be a good thing. He often rocked for hours to soothe himself. Or it could be a warning sign of things to come.

  “I was thinking you might want to wear your new blue shirt today.” Blue was his favorite color.

  Teddy didn’t answer. Rather, he stared at nothing in particular, his eyes barely visible beneath an unruly fringe of reddish-blond hair. Teddy hated going to the barber shop, although the elderly gentleman who cut his hair was very understanding.

  Maybe she should call and beg off the party. On second thought, that wasn’t an option. The Dempseys were good to Summer. Really good. Without them, there’d be no equine therapy program for Teddy and other children like him. Plus, the party was special: a welcome to Mustang Valley for Josh and Cole’s cousin who’d arrived a few days ago. The brothers were excited to see their cousin again and hoped he’d stay, offering him a job at the ranch.

  The party was also a celebration of sorts for the entire family. After months and months of financial and emotional struggle in the wake of former patriarch August Dempsey’s death, the ranch was finally on the road to recovery. Not to mention Cole and Violet’s recent elopement and Josh and Cara’s engagement. Gabe and Reese were likely headed for the altar as well, though no formal announcement had yet been made.

  For those reasons and more, Summer felt obligated to attend. She briefly considered leaving Teddy at home with his regular sitter. The party was scheduled to start at six—she could leave by eight, no problem. But the Dempsey brothers, along with Gabe’s mother, Raquel, the family’s well-loved matriarch, had insisted Summer bring Teddy.
Besides, Josh’s two children were also going to be there.

  Summer had relented, of course, though other children at the party would make no difference. Teddy didn’t socialize. With anyone. Children or adults or even his own mother.

  A man appeared behind Summer, materializing in her peripheral vision. She assessed him instantly, something she’d learned to do out of necessity. He was young, maybe early thirties. Possibly a ranch hand, given his clothes, though, he didn’t look familiar and Summer knew, or knew of, most everyone in their small community.

  Whoever he was, he seemed concerned about nothing more than finding the correct aisle for whatever purchases he was making and promptly wandered off. Good thing, because Teddy had started humming, something he did to calm himself when he became nervous or agitated.

  “Well, big guy.” Summer smiled down at him. “Let’s find the vanilla extract and get out of here.”

  The other ingredients were already nestled in Teddy’s lap. He’d insisted on holding them.

  Summer pushed her cart forward, being exceedingly careful not to touch Teddy. He tolerated contact better now than he used to, thanks to the learning center he was enrolled in and his weekly equine therapy sessions. Still, he picked and chose his moments. Summer could never be sure.

  Suddenly two grandmotherly women rounded the corner and started down the aisle toward Summer and Teddy. She froze, halting the cart in midstep. The women were also strangers, likely passing through Mustang Valley on their way to or from Payson. Travelers regularly stopped at the market for refreshments.

  Don’t talk to us, please. The words were a mantra inside Summer’s head.

  Stare. Make judgments. Gossip about us later in your car. I don’t care. Just please, please, please don’t talk to us.

  The woman on the left smiled and nodded. In another minute, possibly less, they would be upon Summer and Teddy and want to pass by.

  Summer’s grip on the cart handle tightened until her fingers cramped and her knuckles turned white.

  Turn around now. Leave us alone.

  Surrendering to the pressure building inside her, she started walking backward, taking the cart with her. Hopefully, Teddy hadn’t seen the women. They were behind him, after all.

  No such luck. His humming grew louder, and he started banging the heels of his sneakers on the bottom of the cart basket, a sure indicator he’d noticed the women.

  Summer moved faster. Glancing back over her shoulder, she spotted Dennis, the store manager. He’d be no help, and besides, Teddy made him uncomfortable.

  “I think the vanilla extract’s in the next aisle,” she said cheerfully, knowing full well it wasn’t.

  All at once, the two women increased their strides, reaching Summer and Teddy before they made good on their escape.

  The smiling one said, “Do you by chance know where the aspirin is?”

  “Front of the store,” Summer said. Go away.

  Sweat dampened her palms and collected between her breasts. She could feel rivulets forming at her temples.

  “Thank you.” It looked as if the two women might turn around.

  Before Summer could release even the tiniest sigh of relief, the one on the left stepped to the side of Summer’s cart and looked directly at Teddy.

  “Hi there, young man. How are you today?”

  He averted his face and cringed, his rocking and humming gaining momentum. The tune wasn’t distinct, rather he repeated the same five notes over and over.

  Bang, bang, bang. His heels hit the cart basket harder and harder.

  “He’s kind of old to ride in a cart, isn’t he?” The woman’s tone left no doubt of her opinion. “What are you, son? Eight? Nine?”

  “Have a good day.” Summer resumed walking backward, intent only on getting to the one open register and escaping the store before Teddy lost control.

  “I’m sorry. My sister didn’t mean anything.” The first woman caught up with Summer, her expression going from concern to suspicion. “Are you okay, young man? Is something the matter?”

  Before Summer reached the end of the aisle, what she’d been dreading most happened. The woman reached out and touched Teddy, her hand resting on his shoulder.

  “Young man?”

  His reaction was instantaneous and, at this point, unstoppable. Ear-splitting shrieks erupted and filled the small market. His rocking turned into thrashing. One by one, he threw the items from his lap onto the floor.

  Summer reacted without thinking, having experienced this same outburst countless times and as recently as last week. Reaching the open area near the front of the market, she swiveled the cart one hundred and eighty degrees and ran it toward the entrance. The double doors swooshed open in the nick of time. She and Teddy burst outside into the bright July sunshine.

  “Miss! Miss.” The woman ran after them.

  Summer hurried. Very little time remained before Teddy passed the point of no return and hurt himself or Summer.

  The cart bumped wildly as she ran it over the uneven asphalt. Fumbling for her purse at her side, she dug her keys out and pressed the button on the fob that unlocked the car.

  As Teddy’s screeching escalated—she hadn’t thought it possible—she wrenched open the rear passenger door. Keeping one eye glued on him, she grabbed a large black cowboy hat off the floor. So far, so good. He wasn’t trying to climb out of the cart.

  Anticipating what lay ahead, she drew in a deep breath, steeled her resolve and took hold of Teddy by the waist. Lifting him out of the cart, she quickly deposited him in the booster car seat.

  He lost all control, screaming, kicking the back of the driver’s seat and clawing at her. Trying to contain him with one arm, she plunked the hat on his head. At first, he pushed it off but allowed her second attempt. When the brim fell over his eyes and shrouded him in darkness, he began to quiet.

  “Miss? Can I help?”

  “We’re all right. Thank you,” Summer said firmly. She didn’t look at the woman and focused her attention entirely on Teddy.

  “Is there someone I can call?”

  Like 9-1-1 to report her for abusing her child? It had happened before.

  Teddy’s shrieks and thrashing resumed.

  “We’re okay. Really.” Summer tried reasoning with the woman. “My son is easily upset by strangers.”

  Can you not see he’s special-needs? Do I have to say autistic?

  “Okay,” the woman muttered. “If you’re sure.”

  She left—thank God. Summer lowered her head until it was level with Teddy’s and began singing a childhood rhyme in a soft voice.

  “The eensie, weensie spider went up the water spout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out.”

  He hummed and rocked in rhythm to the melody.

  “Up came the sun, and it dried up all the rain. And the eensie, weensie spider went up the spout again.”

  Two more times she sang the song. Then, taking a chance, she inched a hand closer and buckled him into his booster seat. Next, she slipped away and started the car, turning the air-conditioning on high. July in Arizona could be counted on for hundred-plus degree temperatures. Teddy, however, seemed impervious to the heat.

  In colder weather, she used a quilt to calm her son. He preferred the weight and volume over the lightness of a cowboy hat, but in this heat, he’d smother, so she improvised.

  “Better now, sweetie pie?” She returned to her position next to him, careful to avoid contact.

  He shook his head, the oversize hat flopping. But he seemed to have relaxed so she decided he must be improved.

  “Excuse me, ma’am.” A deep male voice interrupted her. “You left your groceries.”

  She rose and pivoted, emitting a small gasp at the sight of the cowboy from the market standing so close to her.
He held out a plastic grocery sack.

  “Wh-what?”

  “Your groceries. You forgot them.”

  She shook her head in confusion. “I didn’t buy them.”

  “It’s okay.” He shrugged.

  “Did you pay for these?”

  Behind Summer, Teddy shifted. He could hear the man even if he couldn’t see him from under the hat’s wide brim. She prayed that he didn’t have another meltdown.

  “Don’t worry about it,” the man said. “I could see you were...in a hurry.” Not a trace of reproach or disapproval or shock colored his deep voice.

  She blinked, then stared. Who was he?

  “Look,” she began to explain. “It’s not what you think.”

  “I don’t think anything, ma’am. It’s none of my business.”

  Still, she felt the need to explain. The man had been kind, unlike the women who’d been curious and interfering. “My son is autistic and struggles in social situations.”

  In her support group, she was encouraged not to make excuses for her son. If people didn’t understand, or if they poked fun at her and Teddy, well, that was their problem. Not hers. Still, it wasn’t easy.

  “I understand. I struggle myself at times.” There was an honesty in his statement that took her momentarily aback.

  He was handsome. Handsome enough that if Summer wasn’t preoccupied with her son, she’d be intrigued. Brown eyes with flecks of gold studied her intently. Broad shoulders and muscled arms emphasized the snug fit of his black T-shirt. Scuffed cowboy boots added an inch to his already impressive height. Stubble darkened his strong jawline. That, along with a noticeable scar beside his left eye, lent a mysterious, if not dangerous, element to his looks.

  “Let me pay you.” Summer reached for her purse, which she’d left on the ground.

  “It’s not necessary.”

  “Yes, it is,” she insisted as she handed him several bills.

  He hesitated before accepting. Stuffing the money in his jeans pocket, he tugged on the brim of his hat.

 

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