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

by Linda Warren

  “Looks like Buck Owens Cash has a lady he’d like to impress this afternoon. Let’s see if he’s the last man sitting when the bull charges.” The announcer cranked up the Buck Owens music while Buck took the only empty chair at the table and sat with his back to the chute.

  “Ladies and gents, are you ready?”

  The crowd stomped their boots on the bleachers and chanted “Let Curly loose!”

  The gate opened and the bull walked into the arena as if he was out for a Sunday stroll. The fans hooted and hollered when a rodeo clown hopped over the rails and waved his hat in the bull’s face, hoping to ignite a fire under the animal’s hooves. Curly would have none of it. He meandered over to the table then bellowed at the poker players who held cards in their hands and pretended the bull was no threat.

  When Curly inched closer, all the players except Buck placed their cards facedown and sat forward in their chair prepared to sprint to safety.

  “It’s all part of the show,” Shannon said. “Curly won’t charge. P.T.’s granddaughter pretty much tamed him and now he won’t hurt a flea.”

  “Thank goodness,” Destiny said. She’d hate for Buck, Melba or Bernie to get hurt. She couldn’t care less about Mitchell.

  Shouts from the stands grew louder as Curly walked closer. None of players bolted, not even Melba. Then Curly changed directions and closed in on Mitchell. When Curly got within arm’s reach, the lawyer chickened out and ran for safety.

  Destiny expected Curly to give chase, but the bull only head-butted the vacated chair, tossing it into the air. The crowd jeered Mitchell, taunting him for being a coward—served the braggart right.

  “We got two cowboys and a cowgirl left,” the announcer said. “You might think Curly’s not a threat, but you can never tell when a bull gets it into his head to go on a rampage.”

  Curly walked over to Melba’s chair. Despite Shannon’s assurances that the bull wouldn’t harm anyone, Destiny held her breath along with everyone in the stands. When Curly stuck his head in Melba’s face she smacked his nose with her cards, and the bull backed up and bawled.

  “Would you look at that.” The announcer chuckled. “Not even a bull gets away with taunting a determined woman.”

  Applause and catcalls echoed through the air as Curly stood docile, swishing his tail. Destiny wondered if this would be the end of the poker game when the bull pawed the ground. Bernie’s mouth dropped open at the plume of dust rising into the air. Curly bent his head and that was all the encouragement Bernie needed—he shoved his chair back and ran for safety.

  “Down to two players, folks. Who’s it gonna be—the cowboy or the cowgirl?”

  The announcer had barely finished his spiel when Curly dropped his head and rammed the table, sending the poker cards sailing through the air. The crowd yelled encouragement—others, like Destiny, shouted warnings.

  “Run, Melba!” The motel owner was a tough bird, but she couldn’t hold her own against a bull—not even a friendly one.

  Melba leaned over and whispered into Buck’s ear then scurried away, her pink scarf forgotten. Buck and Curly faced off, the bull stomping his front hoof on the ground and snorting. Buck stared Curly down.

  “I think we got ourselves a winner, folks! Buck Owens Cash!”

  Destiny didn’t care that Buck won the poker challenge—she wanted him safe and the heck away from Curly.

  Buck waved his hat to the crowd then patted the bull on the rump and walked off, man’s best friend dogging his boot heels. Johnny met Buck at the gate, tossed a rope over Curly’s head then led the bull out of the arena and over to the cemetery, where Curly lay down in the shade beneath the hanging tree.

  “I hope all you ladies and gents enjoyed today’s rodeo,” the announcer said. “The Cowboy Rebels concert begins in an hour, so make sure you fill up on barbecue before you head over to the Flamingo Motel.”

  “I don’t know about you girls,” Shannon said, “but I’m sitting in one of the rocking chairs on the porch of that pastry shop until the food line dwindles.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Dixie said.

  “I better corral the boys before they get into trouble.” Isi walked off in search of Conway and the twins.

  “If I know Ryan and Will, they’re already in line for barbecue.” Marsha joined the crowd moving up the street to Lucille’s.

  Left alone, Destiny relaxed for the first time in hours. She liked Buck’s family, but she worried that they’d assume she and Buck were more than... What?

  Hoping to avoid an argument with herself, she left the bleachers and went in search of her cowboy.

  “Looking for me?” Grinning, Buck opened his arms and without any hesitation Destiny walked into them. Why did this have to feel so right? Why did Buck have to be the one who made her heart pound? A lump grew in her throat when she thought of never seeing him again.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  You have no idea. She skimmed her hand through his hair, knocking his hat to the ground then she lifted her mouth to his. Whistles rent the air, but Destiny didn’t hear them over the thumping of her heart and the whirring sound of blood racing through her veins. After she thoroughly kissed Buck and assured herself that he was okay, she released him. “Don’t you ever play bull poker again.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Buck grasped her hand and led her over to his brothers.

  Aside from Johnny, who had dark hair and blue eyes, the rest of the Cash brothers had brown eyes and brown hair with varying shades of blond and gold highlights.

  “What did you think of the rodeo, Destiny?” Mack asked.

  “It was great, and if your singing voice is anything like your talking voice then the concert will be pretty darn good, too.”

  Mack poked Buck in the shoulder. “Keep her. She’ll liven up things at the farm.”

  “Buck says you own a Wide Glide hog.” Porter flashed a smile that Destiny was positive had made hundreds of girls swoon.

  “I do.” The brothers exchanged glances. Then she caught Buck grinning. “I’m guessing all of you want to take my hog for a spin.”

  “Destiny,” Will said, “I wouldn’t trust anyone but me with your bike. I owned a Harley in high school and—”

  “It might have been a Harley but it was a piece of crap,” Buck said.

  “Crap or not, it was a Harley.” Will shoved Buck playfully.

  Destiny stood silent, amused by the brothers’ antics. This is what it’s like to be part of a big family. She hated the idea that her child would grow up lonely with just her for family. “All of you can take turns on my bike, but if I find one scratch or dent, then you’re buying me a new hog.” She tossed the keys to Buck before she walked off. She hadn’t even made it to the street when she heard one of the brothers speak.

  “Never in a million years would I have pictured you with a girl like Destiny.”

  She slowed her pace, but one of the bulls in the cemetery bawled, drowning out Buck’s response.

  Probably for the best.

  * * *

  “THAT WAS A decent rodeo,” Custer said, stepping outside of Lucille’s. Buck had invited the man to the rodeo and concert, hoping to convince him to embrace his idea to save the town and give both sides what they wanted.

  “P. T. Lewis has been in the rodeo production business for two decades,” Buck said. “He knows how to entertain folks.”

  “Where is everyone?” Custer asked.

  “At the Flamingo. The concert begins in a few minutes.”

  “Concert?” Custer’s eyebrows rose. “You thought of everything.”

  “Have you had time to consider my suggestion?” Buck asked.

  “It’s ballsy—I’ll give you that, Cash.”

  “Hey, I’ve been looking all over for you!” Mark Mitchell waved from the pastry shop steps. He shoved what was left of his doughnut into his mouth then hurried across the street. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  Buck ignored Mitchell and spoke to Custer. “If you keep the
town and build the resort next to it, you’ll have a unique attraction for your guests right in your backyard.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Mitchell gaped at Buck.

  Custer motioned for his sidekick to shut up. “Let the man speak.”

  “You’re out in the middle of nowhere.” Buck spread his arms wide. “After a few days of golf and spa treatments the guests will grow bored and want to leave. If you include Lizard Gulch as part of the resort, guests will have more to do. Kids can play miniature golf or swim in the motel pool. People can take ghost tours at night. If one of the guests’s vehicles breaks down, there’s an auto mechanic on-site.”

  Buck ignored Mitchell’s derisive grunt and continued his push. “The town might seem hokey to you, but this place is a Route 66 gem. It’s got character and characters who live here. If you want to make a big impression on your guests and have them spread the word about your resort, then you keep Lizard Gulch right where it is.”

  “I’d have to put money into the town. Spruce it up a bit,” Custer said, eyeing the unpaved street.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Mitchell frowned. “You’re not considering his stupid idea, are you? The people here are crazy. They’ll scare the resort guests away.”

  “Watch your mouth, Mitchell. The old folks are eccentric but they’re harmless.” Buck pointed to the two towering palm trees guarding the entrance to the motel and the neon sign in the shape of a giant flamingo. “The Flamingo has historic value. If word spreads that you’re trying to save a Route 66 landmark, people will want to give you their business. If they find out you want to destroy a part of America’s history, then they’ll boycott your resort and spend their money elsewhere.”

  “What’s in it for you, Cash?” Custer asked. “Why do you care what happens to this desert dump?”

  “He cares because he’s sleeping with the town mechanic,” Mitchell said.

  Buck cared because he identified with these people. A kid didn’t grow up the son of a vamp and carry the moniker of Buck Owens Cash without having experienced his share of mockery and teasing. “The people who call Lizard Gulch home might be society misfits in your eyes, but they’re a family.” An odd family, but a family nonetheless. “You bulldoze this town and they’ll scatter to the four corners. At their age they might never see each other again.”

  “He’s crazy, Jack.” Mitchell stomped his foot like a little boy. “You offer the old farts money to relocate their trailers and they’ll be out of your hair in less than twenty-four hours.”

  “That plan won’t work after today’s fund-raiser,” Buck said.

  “Fund-raiser for what?” Custer asked.

  “To raise money to retain a lawyer to represent Lizard Gulch in a counter lawsuit against Wyndell Resorts.”

  “You don’t say?” Custer grinned.

  “What the hell is so funny?” Mitchell asked.

  “I’ve never been sued by a town before.”

  “Don’t underestimate Destiny,” Buck said. “She’s a fighter and she’ll go down swinging.”

  “Who cares, as long as she goes down,” Mitchell said.

  “If Destiny fails—” Buck stuck his face into Mitchell’s “—you can bet you’ll fail, too.”

  “Is that a threat, Cash?” Mitchell asked.

  “A warning. Word travels fast in the desert, and rural people stick together. If you swindle these people, your reputation as a lawyer will be ruined.”

  Seconds ticked by, then Custer said, “I’ll speak to my team about your idea.”

  “Don’t take too long. The lawyer representing Lizard Gulch isn’t being paid to twiddle his thumbs.” Buck kept a straight face when he told the lie. Custer and Mitchell didn’t need to know Destiny hadn’t hired a lawyer yet.

  “Don’t worry. I got your message loud and clear.” Custer turned to his henchman. “I’m not ready to take a town vote to sell out just yet, so you’ll have to stick around here until I decide what my next move will be.”

  The three men crossed the street just as Destiny walked through the motel parking lot. When she spotted Buck, her eyes rounded with shock.

  Worried that she’d misinterpreted his chat with Custer and Mitchell, he hurried toward her. “Destiny, wait!” She turned her back and disappeared into the crowd.

  “Buck, wait up!”

  He stopped when Dixie called out his name. Custer and Mitchell continued to the motel without him. Irritated that he lost sight of Destiny, he grumbled, “I can’t talk right now.”

  “You’re grouchy,” Dixie said. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. Where’s Nate?” He wasn’t used to seeing his sister without his nephew in her arms.

  “Gavin’s watching him.”

  Buck resumed walking toward the motel. He ought to be able to spot Destiny—her red locks would stand out among all the blond-haired rodeo groupies.

  “What’s the hurry?” Dixie hustled along with him.

  Buck slowed his steps. “What do you want, Dix?”

  “I wanted to tell you we approve of Destiny.”

  He scanned the sea of heads. “Who’s we?”

  “Me and the other Cash wives.”

  “Since when does the woman I date need an endorsement from all the females in the family?”

  “Destiny’s on the quiet side and didn’t talk about her family, but that doesn’t matter.”

  “That’s good to know.” What would his sister and sisters-in-law think of Destiny if they knew she’d been raised in truck stops by a mother who turned tricks for a living?

  Dixie snagged his shirtsleeve. “How serious are things between you two?”

  Pretty damn serious—at least in Buck’s mind. “I’m not sharing any pillow talk stories with you, Dix.” He squirmed beneath her sharp stare.

  “There’s trouble in paradise, isn’t there?” she said.

  Possibly. He’d promised Destiny he wouldn’t get involved in the town’s problems, but he’d interfered anyway. He wouldn’t be much of a man if he’d stood by and watched Custer and Mitchell work Destiny over like a prizefighter’s punching bag. “We’re fine.”

  “Then invite Destiny to the farm. Bring her to Stagecoach in two weeks and we’ll plan a family picnic.”

  The last thing he wanted to do was parade Destiny in front of his family without knowing where things stood between them. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Good. Now go find your Juliet. I’m going to look for my Romeo.” Dixie walked off.

  Buck pushed through the mass of people and made his way to the pool, where a stage had been set up next to the deep end. Mack and his bandmates were tuning their guitars and testing the sound system. Already a group of pretty girls had gathered by the stage, flirting with the Cowboy Rebels. He wondered if any of the girls were aware that the only single cowboy in the band was Mack.

  “Hey, where have you been?” Johnny asked, approaching with the rest of Buck’s brothers.

  “I had some business to take care of,” he said. “How’d you all manage to ditch your kids?”

  “The twins are taking a nap and Isi’s resting with them.” Conway frowned. “She’s been tired and cranky lately. Don’t know what’s gotten into her.”

  “Shannon’s worried the music will hurt Addy’s ears so she’s going to sit in the truck bed in the parking lot and listen to the concert.” Johnny shrugged. “Can’t figure that woman out. She doesn’t want our daughter’s hearing damaged, but she’s already planning out Addy’s mutton bustin’ career.”

  “Ryan’s old enough to hang out by himself.” Will motioned to his teen son, talking to a man wearing a beret, plaid shorts and a tank top. “Did you know that old guy was a research scientist for Procter & Gamble?”

  “Really?” Buck said.

  “Ryan’s asking him about grad programs.” Will frowned. “If I let him, he’d head off to college right now.”

  Buck hurt for Will. His brother had missed out on the first fourteen years of his
son’s life, and he doubted Will wanted Ryan to leave home any day soon.

  “Who’s watching Bandit while you guys are up here?” The black Lab had been left behind.

  “Troy’s got him out at his place,” Conway said. “By the way, Troy keeps bugging me about when you’re coming back. He said if you don’t show up soon, he’s going to replace you.”

  “I’ll call him in a few days.” Buck’s first priority was making sure Destiny didn’t think he’d betrayed her. If he couldn’t convince her that he’d had the town’s best interests at heart when he’d contacted Custer, then he might be asking Troy for his old job back.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Howdy, folks.” Mack Cash tipped his cowboy hat to the crowd gathered around the pool and spilling into the motel parking lot. “I want to thank everyone for driving out to Lizard Gulch today and showing your support for this town.”

  Shouts, whistles and applause rippled through the evening air.

  “For those of you who don’t know us...we’re the Cowboy Rebels.” He played a few notes on his guitar, and the rodeo groupies danced in front of the stage.

  Buck shared an amused look with Johnny. The girls sure loved their brother’s deep voice. The band members were introduced and each cowboy played a solo, then Mack asked, “We got any line dancers here tonight?”

  Several people raised their hands.

  “I’m counting on you pretty girls up front to teach the others—” he strummed his guitar “—‘Honky Tonk Badonkadonk’!” The band kicked off the song by Trace Adkins, and the ladies formed a line alongside the pool and strutted their stuff. Before long the locals and other guests joined in.

  Buck searched for Destiny among the dancers but saw no sign of her. Maybe she’d gone back to the garage. He weaved through the bodies and almost made it to the parking lot when Mitchell stepped into his path.

  The former mayor was getting on his nerves. “What do you want?” he shouted over the music.

  Mitchell poked Buck’s chest with his finger. “Mind your own business.”