Texas Daddy
Page 19
Happy was too tame. Joy might be closer, but still lacked something.
For the first time in her life, she might actually be in a state of euphoria. How cheesy was that? She couldn’t stop hugging people and smiling. Her left hand stayed firmly in Adrian’s grip.
He leaned in and whispered low. “How do we get out of here?”
“I don’t know. I think we’re stuck for now.”
A few more people joined them. More hugs and happy tears. Finally, people started drifting off. The bull riders were about to start.
Adrian cupped her neck and kissed the corner of her mouth. “How about next weekend?”
Her brain wasn’t working. “What’s next weekend?”
He smiled at her and she knew she’d agree to whatever he asked. “Let’s get married. We can go to the courthouse and get the license and I’m sure Pastor John can be available.”
“Next weekend?”
He tilted his head toward the group standing behind him. “If we give them too much time, they’ll have us releasing live doves.” His eyebrows wiggled. “We both love adventure. Why wait? Let’s jump.”
Glancing around, she saw her sisters and father talking with Mia and George. His parents and sisters were talking with her aunt. They were all smiles. He had a good point. Plus, she liked pushing herself to the limits. Why not? It was Adrian, and she trusted him with her life. More important, she trusted him with her heart.
“Okay.”
He hollered and everyone looked at them; even the horses looked as if they doubted his sanity. Hand in hand, they went and told their loved ones that they had a week to plan a wedding. She was marrying Adrian De La Cruz.
God was good, all the time.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this story,
look for these other books
by Jolene Navarro:
LONE STAR HOLIDAY
LONE STAR HERO
A TEXAS CHRISTMAS WISH
THE SOLDIER’S SURPRISE FAMILY
Keep reading for an excerpt from THEIR RANCH REUNION by Mindy Obenhaus.
Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!
Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards
http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010003
Dear Reader,
Thank you for taking a trip to Clear Water, Texas, with me. This small town has become my go-to place to visit and Adrian is one of my favorite guys in town. He has been there to help out since the first book and I wanted to see his happy ending. Each story I got to know him a little better and knew I would love spending time with him.
Nikki was new to me. I knew Adrian needed someone who would shake up his world and that’s what she did. It was important for me to get her story right for her ultimate gift of love. A story of redemption and forgiveness. We’ve all made mistakes or trusted the wrong people, but God’s love is bigger than anything that can harm us in this world. He uses it all for good. Family, healing and love are all wrapped tightly around this story. Coming from a family of three girls, I loved writing the sister scene. I hope you enjoy Adrian and Nikki’s adventure to everlasting love. Find me on Facebook at Jolene Navarro, Author.
Warm regards and blessings,
Jolene Navarro
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.
You believe hearts can heal. Love Inspired stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.
Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired every month!
Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
HarlequinBlog.com
Join Harlequin My Rewards & Instantly earn a FREE ebook of your choice.
Earn points for every Harlequin print and ebook you buy, wherever & whenever you shop.
Turn your points into FREE BOOKS.
Don’t miss out. Reward the book lover in you!
Register Today & Earn a FREE BOOK*
*New members who join before December 31st, 2017 will receive 2000 points redeemable for eligible titles.
Click here to register
Or visit us online to register at
http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010001
Their Ranch Reunion
by Mindy Obenhaus
Chapter One
If she had to look at one more spreadsheet, she’d go batty.
Overdue for a break, Carly Wagner pushed away from her laptop at the oak kitchen table, poured another cup of tea and wandered into the parlor of her Victorian home. The late morning sun filtered through the windows, bathing the somewhat formal though still cozy room in warmth. Taking a sip of her Cream Earl Grey, she glimpsed the photo of her great-grandmother on the mantel and smiled. Granger House was more than just her home. The bed-and-breakfast was a way of life.
She let go a sigh. If only she didn’t have to keep taking in these bookkeeping jobs to help build up her savings. But if she hoped to send her daughter, Megan, to college one day...
She was just about to sit in the powder-blue accent chair when something outside caught her attention. Easing toward the side window, she noticed a vehicle in the driveway next door. She fingered the lace curtain aside and peered through the antique glass pane.
That truck did not belong there.
Her neighbor, Olivia Monroe, Livie to everyone who knew her, had been dead for six months. Since then, no one had set foot in that house without Carly’s knowledge. Until now.
Narrowing her gaze on the ginormous black F-350, curiosity mingled with concern. After all, Livie’s house now belonged to her. Well, maybe not completely, but Lord willing, it would, just as soon as she convinced Livie’s grandson, Andrew, to sell her his half. That is, once she finally mustered the courage to call her old high school boyfriend. Then she would finally be able to act on her dream of expanding Granger House Inn and kiss bookkeeping goodbye.
Allowing the curtain to fall back into place, she paced from the wooden floor to the large Persian rug in the center of the room and back again. What should she do? She hated to bother the police. Not that they had much to do in a quiet town like Ouray, Colorado. Then again, if it was nothing, she’d look like the nosy neighbor who worried over everything.
No, she needed to do a little investigation before calling the cops.
She headed back into the kitchen, depositing her cup on the butcher-block island before grabbing her trusty Louisville Slugger on her way out the back door. The cool air sent a shiver down her spine. At least, that’s what she told herself. Realistically, it was rather mild for the second day of March. Perhaps the sun would help rid them of what remained of their most recent snowfall.
Making herself as small as possible, she crept across the drive and around the back of Livie’s folk Victorian. Banging echoed from inside. Or was it her own heart slamming against her rib cage?
With Livie’s house key clenched in her sweaty palm, Carly drew in a bolstering breath and continued a few more feet. She soundlessly eased the metal storm door open just enough to insert her key into the lock of the old wooden door. Then, thanks to the ongoing hammering sound, she slipped inside undetected.
The seventies-era kitchen, complete with avocado-green appliances and gold countertops, looked the same as it had every other time she’d been there in recent weeks. Pathetic. She still couldn’t understand why Livie would do such a horrendous thing to this charming house. Carly could hardly wait to get rid of that ugly old stuff and replace it with a look that was truer to the home’s original character.
Carly jumped, sending her renovation ideas flying out the window. At least until she took care of whoever was in the parlor.
Raising the bat, she tiptoed into the short hallway, past the closet, until she could see who was making that racket.
She peered around the corner, nearly coming unglued when she spotted the male figure crouched beside the wall on the other side of the kitchen, using a hammer and a crowbar to remove the original trim moldings.
She slammed the tip of the bat onto the worn wooden floor with a crash. “What are you doing to my house?”
The man jumped. Jerking his head in her direction, he hustled to his feet until he towered over her.
Carly gasped. What is he doing here?
Eyes wide, she simply gaped. The perpetrator wasn’t just any man. Instead, Andrew Stephens, Livie’s grandson, stood before her, looking none too pleased.
Heat started in her belly, quickly rising to her cheeks. Though it had been nearly twenty years since they’d dated and she’d seen him a few times since, her mind failed to recall that the boy she once knew so well was now a man. A very tall, muscular man with thick, dark brown hair, penetrating brown eyes and a stubble beard that gave him a slightly dangerous, albeit very appealing, look.
His surprise morphed into irritation. “Your house?”
She struggled for composure, jutting her chin in the air while trying to ignore the scent of raw masculinity. “You heard me.” Aware she wasn’t acknowledging the complete truth, her courage suddenly waned. “Well, half of it anyway.”
Andrew eyed her bat. “I’m not sure where you’re getting your information, Carly, but this house belongs to me.” Shifting his tools from one hand to the other, he moved closer. “And I have a copy of my grandmother’s will that proves it.”
Oh, so he thought he could intimidate her, did he? Not to mention call her a liar?
She laid one hand over the other atop the bat. “That’s odd. Because I received a letter from Livie’s lawyer, along with a copy of her will, and it stated that the house passes equally to both you and me.” And while her plan was to offer to buy out his half, this probably wasn’t the best time to bring that up.
He cocked his head, his expression softening a notch. “Are you okay? You haven’t hit your head or something, have you?”
She sucked in a breath, indignation twisting her gut. Wasn’t it enough that he’d broken her young heart? Now he thought she was crazy. Well, she’d show him.
Resting the bat on her shoulder, she whirled and started for the back door.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll be right back.” She stormed out the door and marched over to her house, kicking at a dwindling pile of snow along the way. Did he really think she was going to let him plead ignorance when she had proof? That house was half hers and she refused to be bullied.
Once inside Granger House, Carly went straight to her bedroom, opened the small safe she kept tucked in the corner and pulled out the large manila envelope. Let Andrew argue with this.
Leaving her bat in her kitchen for fear she might actually be tempted to use it, she again made her way next door, irritation nipping at her heels. She would not let Andrew stand between her and her dream.
When she entered this time, he was in the kitchen, arms crossed, leaning against the peninsula that separated the eating space from the food-prep space, looking better than an ex-boyfriend should.
She removed the papers from the envelope and handed them to him. “Page three, last paragraph.”
She watched as he read, noting the lines carved deeply into his brow. So serious. Intense. And while he had never been the carefree type, it appeared the big city might have robbed him of whatever joy remained.
When he glanced her way, she quickly lowered her gaze. Just because she hadn’t seen him in forever didn’t give her the right to stare. No matter how intriguing the sight.
“I don’t get it.” He flipped back to the front page. “This will was drawn up only a year and a half ago.” He looked at her now. “The one I have is at least five years old. Meaning this—” he wiggled the papers—“supersedes that.”
Carly rested her backside against the wood veneer table, her fingers gripping the edge. “So, are you saying you didn’t receive a letter from your grandmother’s lawyer?”
He shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”
This was her chance to make her move. Before she chickened out. “I’m sorry to hear that. However—” she shoved away from the table “—we can take care of this quite easily.” She lifted her chin. “I’d like to buy out your half. I’ve been looking for a way to expand my bed-and-breakfast, and this house is the perfect solution. Besides, you’re never in Ouray—”
“I love this house. Always have. You know that.”
While she knew that Andrew the boy had loved the house, she could count the times Andrew the man had set foot in Ouray since moving to Denver right after graduation. A move that was supposed to be the beginning of their future together. Instead, it had torn them apart.
Refusing to let the painful memories get the best of her, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Until today, when was the last time you were in this house?”
“After my grandmother’s funeral.”
“And the time before that?” She awaited a response.
After a long moment, he shoved the papers back at her. “This house has been in my family for four generations. And I’m not about to let that change anytime soon. Even for you.”
* * *
Andrew hadn’t been this bowled over since Crawford Construction, one of Denver’s largest commercial builders, offered to buy out his company, Pinnacle Construction. Even then, he hadn’t been totally unaware. He’d heard rumors. But this revelation about his grandmother’s house took him completely by surprise.
There was no way he was going to sell Carly half of the house that rightfully belonged to him. There had to be some mistake. He hadn’t even been notified of the change to Grandma’s will.
Watching out the kitchen window as Carly made her way back to Granger House, her blond curls bouncing with each determined step, he could think of only two explanations. His grandmother was crazy, or Carly had somehow coerced her into changing her will, giving his high school sweetheart half of the house that had been promised to him from the time he was a boy.
He continued his scrutiny, chuckling at the memory of Carly holding that baseball bat. Coming into the house, not knowing who was inside, took a lot of guts. Apparently the shy girl he’d once known no longer existed. Then again, that was a long time ago. She’d since become a wife, a mother, a widow... Not to mention one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.
Shaking off the unwanted observation, he waited for her to disappear inside her house before digging the keys out of his jeans pocket and heading out the door. He had to get to the bottom of this and fast. For months, he’d been looking forward to updating this old home to use as a rental property. Now, as he awaited the closing on his next business venture, he had eight weeks to do just that.
He climbed into his truck and fired up the diesel engine, daring a glance toward Granger House. With its sea foam green paint, intricate millwork and expansive front porch, the historic Victorian home looked much the way it would have when it was first built nearly one hundred twenty years ago. Today’s guests must feel as though they’re stepping back in time.
His gaze drifted to the swing at the far end of the porch. Back when he and Carly were dating, they spent many an evening there, holding hands, talking about their plans for the future. Plans he once thought would include her.
But that was then. This was now.
He threw the truck into gear and set off for his grandmother’s lawyer’s office, only to discover the ma
n was out of town for the week. Frustration burrowed deeper. He didn’t know what to do. Perhaps his father would have some insight.
Andrew’s shoulders slumped. Seeing his father meant a trip to the ranch. Something he hadn’t planned to do just yet.
If he wanted answers, though, it was his only option.
He maneuvered his truck onto Main Street, past the rows of colorful historic buildings, to continue north of town, beyond the walls of red sandstone, on to the open range. A few minutes later, he passed under the arched metal sign that read Abundant Blessings Ranch. Why his parents had named the place that, he’d never understand. Their lives were far from blessed, working their fingers to the bone with little to nothing to show for it.
He’d never live like that again.
Bumping up the gravel drive, he eyed the snow-capped mountains that stretched across the far edge of the property, beyond the river where they used to fish and swim.
A couple of horses watched him from the corral as he passed the stable. Red with white trim, it was the newest building on Stephens’ land. Apparently the trail rides his father and oldest brother Noah offered during the summer months had been successful. That, in addition to the riding lessons Noah taught, had likely funded the structure.
The old barn, however, was another story. Closer to the house, the rustic wooden outbuilding had seen better days. The roof sagged, the pens on the outside were missing most of their slats and the ancient shingles were in sore need of replacing. Better yet, someone should just bulldoze the thing and start fresh.
A task he could easily take care of once they were well into spring. But he’d be back in Denver by then, the proud owner of Magnum Custom Home Builders.
He pulled alongside his father’s beat-up dually, killed the engine and stepped outside to survey the single-story ranch house.
Though the sun was warm, a chill sifted through him. He wouldn’t have believed it possible, but the place looked even worse than it had six months ago when he was here for his grandmother’s funeral. The cedar siding was the darkest he’d ever seen it. The house, along with the large wooden deck that swept across one side, could use a good power-washing. Not that Dad, Noah or his younger brother, Jude, had the time. Before the cancer took its toll, the house had always been Mama’s domain. And with five sons eager to please her, she was never at a loss for help.