Harlequin American Romance May 2014 Bundle: One Night in TexasThe Cowboy's DestinyA Baby for the DoctorThe Bull Rider's Family

by Linda Warren

  “You’ve got a cracked hose.” She stepped back and unhooked the rod then let the hood drop into place. “The nearest mechanic with a tow truck—” her “—is a few miles up the road in Lizard Gulch. You want a lift there?”

  “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  She waited by the Harley while he closed the truck windows and locked his gear inside the cab. “Guess you’re going to miss your rodeo,” she said.

  “There’s always another one.” He eyed the bike. “This your motorcycle?”

  “You think I ditched my fiancé at the altar and then took off on his bike?”

  “Kind of looks that way.” He kept a straight face but his eyes sparkled.

  “Looks can be deceiving. Hop on.” Once he was situated, she jumped on the kick-starter and gunned the engine.

  His chest pressed into her back and sweat beaded between her breasts. She’d yet to come across a man who intimidated her, but there was something about the cowboy that put her off-balance. “Where should I hold on?”

  “Wherever you want.” She checked the mirrors then shot onto the highway. Once the tires gained traction, she shifted gears. When the hog jumped forward, his hands clasped her hips, his fingers squeezing until she felt the pressure against the bone.

  Her driving made him nervous. Good.

  She hit a straightaway and the hog’s speed edged toward eighty. She knew the road like the back of her hand—every pothole, bump and crack in the asphalt—and had complete control of the bike. The first time she’d given Daryl a ride on the Harley, he hadn’t been half as nervous as the cowboy.

  Speaking of Daryl... Funny how she’d forgotten the father of her baby the moment Buck had stepped from the truck. Maybe things had worked out for the best when Daryl had chickened out at the eleventh hour. Had they tied the knot, they’d probably have been divorced inside of a year.

  * * *

  BUCK FELT LIKE an extra in a Hollywood movie. He’d woken this morning ready to rodeo and now here he was, hitching a ride on a Harley with a runaway bride. He swatted the lace veil away from his face. Life sure had gotten interesting since his older brother Will had all but kicked him off the family pecan farm and told him to get the heck out of Dodge for a while. Buck was the first to admit he’d deserved the banishment.

  Will had learned for the first time this past June that he had a fourteen-year-old son. The mother had been a girl he’d taken to the prom his senior year. After Marsha Bugler graduated high school, she’d left Arizona to attend college in California. Buck had kept in touch with her through email and then one afternoon a year ago in March he’d surprised Marsha with a visit on the way home from a rodeo and had met her son for the first time—a teenager who’d looked suspiciously like Will.

  Marsha had confessed that Will was the boy’s father, then begged Buck not to tell him until she figured out the best way to break the news. He’d agreed to keep Marsha’s secret, believing she’d follow through on her promise. A month passed then another and another, and it wasn’t until a year and a half later that she wrote Will a letter, informing him that he was a father. Buck didn’t blame his brother for kicking him to the curb, and he’d left willingly while Marsha and Will sorted through the wreckage of their past and figured out their future as a family.

  Once in a while Buck checked in with his younger sister Dixie, but he never told her his whereabouts. Since leaving home in June, his brother Johnny and his wife, Shannon, had delivered a baby girl, named Addy in honor of Grandma Cash. And just last week Dixie had texted him the news that Will and Marsha had married.

  Almost daily Dixie begged Buck to come home, but he wasn’t ready. He couldn’t say for sure what kept him away from Stagecoach. He only knew that he didn’t want to go back to the same-old-same-old—a rodeo once a month and working on cars in Troy Winters’s garage. His brothers were moving on with their lives, and he wanted to move on, also—to where and to what was anyone’s guess.

  The road curved and Destiny slowed the bike. Buck relaxed his grip on her slender hips as the faint scent of lilacs drifted up his nostrils. He didn’t know if the scent came from her skin or the red locks she’d pinned to the top of her head. He dropped his gaze to the bare shoulder in front of him. Crawling out from the edge of the sleeveless vest was a red, yellow and green lizard, its tongue extended toward a tiny tattooed fly. Despite her petite size, Destiny was solid muscle. Maybe she was a personal trainer at a fitness gym—that would explain her toned arms.

  One more mile and the bike slowed to a crawl then veered onto a dirt road badly in need of grading. It wasn’t until the bike crested a small mesa that he spotted the handful of buildings in the middle of the desert. Twin palm trees stood a hundred feet in the air above the buildings and looked out of place in the dusty barren landscape.

  His escort coasted into town—if the place even qualified as a town. He counted six structures. The towering palms guarded the entrance to the Flamingo Inn Resort—a seen-better-days motel that had been converted into a trailer park. A gas station with one repair bay and one pump sat at the end of—he read the street sign—Gulch Road. Carter Towing and Repair had been painted in red block lettering across the front of the whitewashed brick.

  The Florence Pastry Shoppe, a two-story Victorian-style home, faced the motel on the opposite side of the street. A giant-sized croissant twirled atop a pole mounted to the roof. Three white rockers sat on the front porch.

  Instead of driving to the garage, Destiny parked outside Lucille’s Smokehouse Grill and Saloon, which sat next to Dino-Land, a nine-hole miniature golf course whose entrance was guarded by giant plaster dinosaurs, their green paint faded and cracked.

  She cut the bike engine and Buck heard the faint sounds of piano music. “What’s going on?”

  “My wedding reception.”

  Uh-oh. Even though Destiny didn’t act upset, he doubted the jilted bride looked forward to informing her wedding guests there was nothing to celebrate. He caught her arm when she stepped past him. “If you want, I’ll tell them the wedding was called off.”

  For the first time since they’d met, she removed her sunglasses. Buck sucked in a quiet breath as he felt himself being dragged into the undertow of Caribbean blue waters. The eyes staring up at him were perfectly round and easily the largest feature on her freckled face. “Thanks, but it’s not a big deal.”

  Not a big deal? What kind of man had she been engaged to? She climbed the steps to the saloon and he couldn’t help but notice that the white leather pants fit her firm little fanny like a glove. The groom had a screw loose if he let a woman like this get away.

  “You’re welcome to come inside for food and drinks,” she said.

  The other businesses appeared deserted. The entire population of Lizard Gulch, including the mechanic, Buck guessed, waited inside the bar.

  “What’s it gonna be?” She tapped her boot heel against the wooden boardwalk. He took the steps two at a time then held the door open for her. As soon as she entered, the piano music switched to “Here Comes the Bride.” A group of geriatrics stared—mouths hanging open, their gazes swinging back and forth between Destiny and Buck.

  A barrel-chested man who wore his long gray hair in a ponytail eyed Buck suspiciously before speaking to Destiny. “I thought you were marrying Daryl? Where’d you find this guy?”

  “He’s a whole lot better-looking than Daryl.” A skinny man with gray sideburns and a receding hairline patted his chest beneath his cobalt-blue silk shirt.

  “This is...” Destiny sent Buck a blank look.

  Holy cow. She’d forgotten his name—that had never happened to him before. Not only was his moniker memorable, but most ladies thought his face was, too. “Buck Owens Cash.”

  “Buck Owens? Why Buck is one of my favorite country-and-western singers.” A blonde lady wearing a strapless rhinestone dress that pushed her wrinkled bosom up to her chin batted her eyelashes.

  “Heel, Sonja.”

  “Go soak your head
in a bucket, Ralph,” Sonja said.

  “Whoever thought to name their kid Buck Owens Cash must have been a dimwit.” A man closer in age to Buck moved to the front of the group. Dressed in a gray suit and red tie, he assessed Buck. “Is Cash your real surname or one you made up to go with your Vegas stage name?”

  Stage name? “All three names are for real, and I doubt my deceased mother would appreciate you calling her a dimwit,” Buck said.

  “Knock it off, Mark. Buck’s pickup broke down near the chapel and I gave him a lift into town,” Destiny explained.

  “You look very...hot.” Sonja handed him a bottled water.

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Buck guzzled the drink.

  “Where’s Daryl?”

  “What happened?”

  “How come you’re late?”

  Questions were fired at Destiny from all directions, and she raised her hands in surrender. “Daryl was a no-show.”

  An elderly man with grizzled cheeks dressed in polyester slacks and a plaid dress shirt appeared at Destiny’s side. He tapped his finger against what appeared to be a toy sheriff’s badge pinned to his shirt. “Want me to bring him in?”

  Was this guy for real?

  “Thank you for your concern, everyone, but I’d rather Daryl have changed his mind about marrying me now than after we tied the knot.”

  The redhead didn’t act the least bit heartbroken, which Buck found hard to accept. Then again a woman who sported a lizard tattoo and biceps muscles was probably as tough on the inside as she appeared on the outside.

  “Violet.” Destiny removed her veil and handed it to a lady with blue hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to break the curse.”

  What curse?

  “Never mind, dear,” Violet said. “I shouldn’t have loaned it out. I probably passed my bad luck on to you.”

  “Good Lord, Violet.” A woman standing by the piano spoke. “That wedding veil has made a dozen trips down the aisle and not one of those marriages lasted more than a few years.”

  “Eleven, and none of the divorces were my fault.” Violet winked at Buck. “Can’t help it if I’m attracted to bad boys.”

  Buck felt his face heat up.

  Destiny came to his rescue. “No need to let all this food and drink go to waste.”

  “We never celebrated Destiny’s mayoral win,” the sheriff said. “We should turn this into a victory party.”

  The biker chick was the mayor of Lizard Gulch?

  “Three cheers for Destiny!”

  Hoots and hollers echoed through the bar then folks crowded the buffet table, loading their Chinet plates with every kind of casserole known to mankind.

  Someone pushed him toward the food line. “Go eat.”

  He did as he was told, then stood in the corner and watched Destiny make the rounds, chatting with her constituents and listening to their complaints and concerns as if she really cared.

  “Is this your first time in Lizard Gulch?” Mr. Suit-and-Tie held out his hand. “Mark Mitchell.”

  After he shook Mitchell’s hand, Buck said, “Until a few minutes ago I wasn’t aware the town existed.”

  “Lizard Gulch used to be a lively place in its day.”

  “And when was that?” A century ago?

  “Five decades of prosperity before the Interstate took all the traffic north of the town. Lizard Gulch was a popular overnight stop on the old Route 66.” He pointed to a lady a few feet away, whose shoulder-length black bob looked like a wig. “Melba’s parents ran the Flamingo Resort. Travelers stopped here on their way to California, because the motel had an outdoor pool and slide for kids.” Mitchell wiped his brow with a napkin. “Once they finished construction of the Interstate, people drove straight through to California.”

  “I’m surprised the town wasn’t abandoned.” How did anyone make a living? Then again, the average age in the saloon had to be sixtysomething. Maybe they were all retired.

  “The town sat vacant for years. When Melba’s husband died, she quit her job as a bank teller in Kingman, then took his insurance money and renovated the Flamingo. Turned the parking lot into a mobile home park and invited friends to visit. Her friends told their friends and before you knew it the place filled up with old farts.”

  Buck eyed the bride. Why would a young woman want to live with all these gray heads? “How long has Destiny lived here?”

  “About a year.”

  “Stop hogging the newcomer.” The guy wearing the disco shirt slipped his arm through Buck’s and squeezed his biceps. “We haven’t had a cowboy as handsome as you come through town in...forever.”

  “Enrick’s one of those homosexuals, but you probably already figured that out,” Mitchell said.

  Buck choked on a swallow of water.

  “It’s called being gay, Mark.” Enrick motioned to the big man with the ponytail. “Frank’s my partner. We met at a pastry competition in Phoenix and it was love at first sight.”

  Buck barely heard Enrick drone on about his partner—Destiny had caught his attention. She’d taken the pins out of her hair and long fiery locks cascaded down the back of her white leather vest. She was nothing like the women he normally dated. Maybe that weekend rodeo in Flagstaff wasn’t so important after all.

  “Where are you from?” Mitchell asked.

  “Stagecoach. Small town southeast of Yuma.”

  Enrick leaned in and sniffed Buck’s neck. “You smell good. What cologne are you wearing?”

  Buck inched sideways, inserting an extra foot of space between himself and lover boy. “I can’t remember.”

  “I’ve never cheated on Frank—” Enrick sighed dramatically “—but right now I really wish I was single.”

  Frank made his way through the crowd toward Enrick and Buck. “Quit pestering the guest,” he said as he turned Enrick toward the buffet table. “Go eat. You’re too skinny.”

  “I just love how you worry about me.” Enrich stood on tiptoe and kissed Frank’s cheek then was off to join a group of gossiping women.

  “Sorry about that,” Frank said. “He comes on a bit strong.”

  No kidding.

  “You’re not gay, but watch yourself with Enrick. He has a way of making a man think twice about his sexuality.” Frank walked off, leaving Buck shaking his head not knowing what to think.

  The sheriff wheeled a cart carrying a wedding cake across the floor and everyone oohed and ahhed over the green frosting lizards crawling up the white monstrosity. A plastic bride and groom riding a motorcycle sat on the top tier.

  “This is beautiful, Frank.” Destiny hugged the pastry chef.

  “The lizards were my idea.” Enrick beamed.

  Frank wielded the knife. “Who wants a piece?”

  After all the guests were served, Destiny brought Buck a slice. “Wild bunch, aren’t they?” She smiled fondly at the group.

  He kept his opinion to himself and sampled the cake. “Hey, this is good.” When he finished the dessert, he asked, “Is the town mechanic here?”

  “No.”

  “I’d better head to the garage and talk to him about my truck. Thanks again for the lift.” Buck handed Destiny his empty cake plate then left the bar. As he walked down the middle of the street he noticed a cemetery tucked behind the miniature golf course. Three marked graves occupied the plot. A sign on the gate read Ghost Tours Daily at Dusk.

  A shiver racked his body when he stopped and looked back at the saloon. The people in there hadn’t been ghosts, had they? Shaking his head, he continued to the garage, wondering if he’d just landed in The Twilight Zone.

  Copyright © 2014 by Brenda Smith-Beagley

  ISBN-13: 9781460331897

  ONE NIGHT IN TEXAS

  Copyright © 2014 by Linda Warren

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  IT WAS FATE…

  Destiny Saunders is tough, but being left at the altar makes even the toughest gals do some strange things. When she stumbles upon a stranded cowboy—Buck Owens Cash, the best thing to arrive in Lizard Gulch, Arizona, in a long time—she arranges things so they can have a little fun before he rides off into the sunset. The sexy, shapely auto mechanic is just one surprise after another, so Buck plays along to see what will happen.

  What happens is love…the kind that makes a man want to prove himself. Then Buck discovers Destiny’s secret—one that will tie her to another man for the rest of her life. Betrayed, he returns to the rodeo circuit determined to forget Destiny…but fate has other plans!

  “Buck, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  The despondent tone in Destiny’s voice sent up a warning flag in Buck’s head. Was she ready to come clean about the broken axle? Well, he wasn’t ready to hear her confession—not after their kiss in the desert. “Go upstairs and rest. We’ll talk later.”

  “But—”

  He pressed his finger to her lips and swore he saw a spark in her blue eyes. There was definitely something happening between them, whether either of them were ready to admit it or not. She gave in and climbed the fire escape to the apartment above the garage. At the door she glanced over her shoulder, and the longing in her gaze stole the air from his lungs. Then she disappeared from view.