Fortune's Hero
Page 1
She didin’t even know his name…
It had been months since an unidentified rugged cowboy had saved Victoria Fortune from the rubble of the tornado—and she’d been haunted by his image ever since.
Garrett Stone knew her name, all right. Everyone in Red Rock knew the Fortunes. And now the pampered princess had shown up on his doorstep! The taciturn rancher braced himself for trouble. Victoria was too young, too spoiled—and way too tempting. She saw Garrett as some kind of hero. But he was just a man. A man with a shadowed past who didn’t deserve the glow he saw in her eyes,,,
Words of Praise for
Harlequin Special Edition
from New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling authors
“When I started writing for Special Edition, I was delighted by the length of the books, which allowed the freedom to create,
and develop more within each character and their romance. I have always been a fan of Special Edition! I hope to write for it for many years to come. Long live Special Edition!
—Diana Palmer
“My career began in Special Edition. I remember my excitement when the SEs were introduced, because the stories were so rich and different, and every month when the books came out I beat a path to the bookstore to get every one of them. Here’s to you, SE; live long, and prosper!”
—Linda Howard
“Congratulations, Special Edition,
on thirty years of publishing first-class romance!”
—Linda Lael Miller
“I owe a great deal to the Special Edition line for allowing me to grow as a writer. Special Edition did that, not only for me but for countless other authors over the past thirty years. It continues to offer compelling stories, with heroes and heroines readers love—and authors they’ve come to trust.”
—Debbie Macomber
“Special Edition books always touch my heart.
They are wonderful stories
with the perfect happy ending.”
—Susan Mallery
“How could I not love a series devoted to my favorite things—complex families and deep friendships? I’m so proud to have been a part of this wonderful tradition at Special Edition.”
—Sherryl Woods
Books by Susan Crosby
Harlequin Special Edition
*Husband for Hire #2118
*His Temporary Live-in Wife #2138
*Almost a Christmas Bride #2157
§§Fortune’s Hero #2181
Silhouette Special Edition
*The Bachelor’s Stand-In Wife #1912
††The Rancher’s Surprise Marriage #1922
*The Single Dad’s Virgin Wife #1930
*The Millionaire’s Christmas Wife #1936
†The Pregnant Bride Wore White #1995
†Love and the Single Dad #2019
§The Doctor’s Pregnant Bride? #2030
†At Long Last, a Bride #2043
‡Mendoza’s Return #2102
Silhouette Desire
**Christmas Bonus, Strings Attached #1554
**Private Indiscretions #1570
**Hot Contact #1590
**Rules of Attraction #1647
**Heart of the Raven #1653
**Secrets of Paternity #1659
The Forbidden Twin #1717
Forced to the Altar #1733
Bound by the Baby #1797
Harlequin Books
Special Edition Bonus Story: The Anniversary Party—Chapter Three
*Wives for Hire
†The McCoys of Chance City
**Behind Closed Doors
††Back in Business
§The Baby Chase
‡The Fortunes of Texas: Lost…and Found
§§The Fortunes of Texas: Whirlwind Romance
Other titles by this author available in ebook format.
SUSAN CROSBY
believes in the value of setting goals, but also in the magic of making wishes, which often do come true—as long as she works hard enough. Along life’s journey she’s done a lot of the usual things—married, had children, attended college a little later than the average coed and earned a B.A. in En-glish. Then she dove off the deep end into a full-time writing career, a wish come true.
Susan enjoys writing about people who take a chance on love, sometimes against all odds. She loves warm, strong heroes and good-hearted, self-reliant heroines, and she will always believe in happily-ever-after.
More can be learned about her at www.susancrosby.com.
Dear Reader,
Anniversary celebrations aren’t just for marriages. For example, Harlequin’s Special Edition line celebrates its 30th anniversary of publication this month—congratulations! And as I write this, I’m marking the anniversary of being offered my first book contract, eighteen years ago this month. Since then I’ve written thirty-six books. It still amazes me, every single day. The pleasure and privilege of creating a piece of work for others to read never fades.
Creating this particular book has been especially gratifying. Taking an independent Texas cowboy who’s much happier among stray dogs and horses, and pairing him with a society-born much younger woman was fun and challenging. I love that Garrett Stone is clear about what he wants and doesn’t want in life. Even more, I love how Victoria Fortune makes him change his very set mind.
I hope you enjoy taking their journey with them.
Susan Crosby
Susan Crosby
Fortune’s Hero
For Bobbie and Ernie, The Cowgirl and Her Prince.
You wrote your own romance,and you did it so well!
With love to you both.
Fortune’s Hero
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
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter One
“Keep away from those cowboys, they’re ramblin’ men…”
The lyrics to the country song popped into her head the moment she saw the tall, blue-eyed man striding past her in the terminal of the small and private, but busy, Red Rock, Texas, airport.
He caught her staring, hesitated a second, then winked. Definitely the rambling type and one to stay away from. He touched a finger to his black Stetson and just like that he was gone, the moment over.
Then the tornado hit. That black hat was the last thing she saw before the roof was ripped from above her, the roar of air sucking everything within, including her, pulling her, dragging her. Around her, wood and metal flew and crashed, ricocheted and bounced.
Pain hit first, then panic. She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t fill her lungs enough to scream. Noise. So much noise. Then suddenly no sound at all.
The quiet was almost as frightening. Gradually she heard crying, someone screaming, others calling out.
Her face was pressed against the co
ld concrete floor. She tried to move but couldn’t. The sound of someone running toward her crept into her awareness. A man flattened himself next to her, his face in shadows—her hero, whoever he was.
“You okay?” he asked.
“My legs hurt,” she managed to say, wiggling her toes and feeling them move inside her high-heeled boots, the rubble preventing leg movement.
He sprang up.
She grabbed for him, caught thin air. “Don’t leave me. Please, don’t—”
But he didn’t leave. Weight was lifted from her, twisted metal, lumber and laminate.
“Can you drag yourself out?” he asked, this giant of a man who’d single-handedly raised the wreckage. “Hurry. There’s not much time. You can do it, sweetheart. Try.”
There was nothing to grab. Her useless polished fingernails dug but found no traction. She caught her breath against the unexpected pain of moving and exerted herself a little more, tried to belly crawl like a solider. Just when she thought she was going to be stuck there forever, he gripped her arm and yanked her from under the debris. Her feet cleared the mess a second before it came tumbling down. He scooped her into his strong arms and rushed away as the whole building creaked and moaned.
Panic set in. “My family…?” she asked.
He angled his head. “Over there.”
She’d just started identifying relatives when part of the building they’d left crumbled with a final whoomph. If he’d been a minute later, she’d have been buried alive. She clenched him tighter, too shocked to say anything.
“I’ve got you,” the stranger said. “You’re safe.”
The cowboy, she realized finally. The man who’d winked at her. She hadn’t recognized him without his hat.
“Help will come soon,” he said, his voice comforting.
She looked up as he set her down. An eerily calm sky replaced portions of the roof of the two-story structure. She’d been sitting on the other side of the room. How far had she been pulled—or thrown?
“You think you can stand on your own?” he asked.
“I think so.” Her eyes were level with his chest. She focused hypnotically on the bolo tie he wore, silver and onyx, before looking up at him.
“You’ll be okay,” he said, releasing her, understanding in his eyes.
Before he could abandon her, she grabbed him by his bolo and tugged him down for a quick, hard, thank-you-for-saving-me kiss, over as soon as it started. Her heart lodged in her throat, damming up the words trapped inside. She couldn’t even ask his name—or tell him hers.
He cupped her shoulders and moved back. For an instant his eyes met hers, then he was running away from her. Paralyzed, she didn’t budge for a minute, then she finally focused on her surroundings. It looked like a war zone. Some of her family were sitting in shock; some were running around. Suitcases were scattered everywhere. What had once been a small plane lay nose-down not twenty feet from where she’d been sitting before the tornado hit.
When she turned back to the terminal she saw no sign of the cowboy. Transfixed, she moved toward the luggage, thinking to stack it all together, needing something to do. Then she heard sirens approach and she staggered toward the sound, waving—
Victoria Fortune jerked awake, sweating, her sheets tangled, her long, dark hair stuck to her skin. She’d had the dream again, the same vivid but increasingly detailed dream. The tornado had struck on December 30 in Red Rock, Texas. She’d been headed home after being a bridesmaid in her cousin Wendy’s wedding. Now, three months later, Victoria was safe in her own bed, in her own condo, in her hometown of Atlanta, Georgia. Three months, and she was still dreaming about it.
And him. She didn’t even know his name, never even thanked him, the man who could’ve died with her that day but who’d rescued her without regard to his own safety.
She was sick of it, physically ill from the constant nightmares and loss of sleep. Even during the day she was assaulted by visions of the destruction and the surreal feel of the tornado sweeping her across the floor.
Maybe it’d been even worse this time because she’d talked to her cousin Jordana last night, who’d suffered her own traumas, and they’d agreed Victoria should go to Red Rock so they could deal with their problems together. Support each other. Be there for each other.
Victoria glanced at the clock then threw off the covers, realizing she needed to start packing for her late-morning flight. She was going to face the past and deal with her near-death experience. She also needed to thank her hero, which was long overdue.
But first she called her parents to tell them she wouldn’t be attending the requisite family Sunday brunch.
“The pew was mostly empty this morning,” her father, James Marshall Fortune, said when he answered the phone.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I overslept.”
“You party too much,” he said gruffly but softly. As the youngest child and only daughter, Victoria got away with more than her four brothers could. Occasionally she used that to her advantage.
“What constitutes ‘too much’?” Victoria asked sweetly, making an effort with her beloved father. Even he had been openly worried about her.
“Ha! We’ll wait for you. Your brothers aren’t all here yet, either. Only Shane.”
Victoria wandered onto the balcony off her bedroom. She was on the fifteenth floor. “I’m not coming at all, Daddy. I’m heading to Red Rock in a couple of hours.”
“I thought you’d decided to skip that party.”
“I did skip it. The party was last night, but Jordana and Emily are still at Wendy’s house. We’re going to have a little girl time, just us four cousins. Well, plus Wendy’s new husband and baby. Please tell Shane I’m taking a few days of vacation, all right?”
“Your brother is your boss. If you need time off, you need to square it with him yourself. And I’m sure your mother will have something to say.”
“Yes, sir.” Her father made it sound like she was a sixteen-year-old kid instead of a twenty-four-year-old college graduate who lived alone and held down a good job—if she could hold on to it. She hadn’t been pulling her own weight for a while now.
“Shane overheard and says that’s good news,” her mother said, coming onto the line. “What’s going on, honey?”
Victoria repeated what she’d said to her father.
“You’re still having bad dreams,” her mother said.
“Yes, ma’am. They’re not going away on their own.”
“What about that man—that cowboy who rescued you? Are you going to see him?”
“I need to thank him. It’s been haunting me that I haven’t. I think that’s part of my problem.”
“I can see where it could help. Are you taking the company jet?”
Victoria closed her eyes. “I’d have to land at Red Rock Airport, and I’m not ready for that. I’ll fly into San Antonio and rent a car.”
“Call me if you need me. I think it’s good you’re doing this, sugar. Important. You’ve looked so tired.”
“Thanks, Mom.” But it was more than good, Victoria thought. It was necessary. She hadn’t been able to deal with molehills lately, much less mountains.
Hours later she drove into downtown Red Rock, then pulled up in front of Marcos and Wendy Mendoza’s pretty three-bedroom house. Wendy had been working her magic on the place, transforming it from bachelor pad to family home, a fun mix of contemporary and cottage styles. She’d been gardening, too, Victoria could tell. What had been barren at the time of the wedding in December now bloomed with welcoming spring beauty.
Wendy burst onto the front porch. At twenty-two, she was two years younger than Victoria, and she sported the same long brown hair and eyes. She was more openly bubbly than Victoria, but as first cousins, they’d been as clos
e as sisters. So were Jordana and Emily, Wendy’s sisters.
“Where’s the star of this show?” Victoria asked, hugging Wendy.
“Sleeping. Finally,” Wendy answered. “Marcos is working.”
“And your sisters?” Victoria asked as they stepped into the house.
“Emily went for a walk. Jordana left.”
Victoria stopped. “She left? When? Why? I talked to her just last night. She said she would wait for me.”
“I don’t know what happened. She took off right after lunch. Honestly, Vicki, Jordana was acting weird the whole time she was here. Em noticed it, too. We’re worried about her. Did she tell you what’s going on?”
She had, but Victoria couldn’t tell Jordana’s secrets. Victoria made a noncommittal sound as she checked her cell phone for messages, finding none from Jordana.
“You can bunk with Em instead of at the hotel now that Jordana’s gone. Would you like some tea?” Wendy asked. “We could sit on the sunporch for a while.”
“Yes, fine,” Victoria said, trying to drum up some enthusiasm for Wendy’s sake.
“Meet you on the porch in a minute.” She laid a hand on Victoria’s arm. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Just fine. Why is everyone asking me that?” She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. “I’m sorry, Wendy. I really am. I don’t know if I’m all right. I know I haven’t been myself. I’m hoping this trip will be the vacation I need.”
Victoria carried her suitcase into the guest room. How could Jordana leave without a word to her? They needed each other.
And she needed the name of her rescuer. Needed to see him, thank him. She wasn’t in the mood for idle chitchat, but she knew good manners indicated she should spend time with her hostess first.
Victoria peeked into the baby’s room, caught a glimpse of a tiny pink bundle in the bassinet, then tiptoed out, afraid of waking six-week-old MaryAnne.
“I’m surprised that Emily is still here,” Victoria said to Wendy as they sat in the glassed-in sunporch. “She’s been staying with you for weeks. How long can she stay away from work?”