by Jeannie Watt
A bigger challenge than she expected!
Shae McArthur once had it all. Perfect job, perfect fiancé. And when she lost everything, it was her own fault. Now she’s starting from scratch with one last project—turning the Bryan Ranch around. If she succeeds, maybe she can pick up the pieces of her former life.
The only problem is the ranch’s stubborn—and captivating—owner, Jordan Bryan. He’s fighting Shae on every change. What gives? True, his scars prove Shae’s not the only one starting over. Still, shouldn’t he, of all people, be able to see beyond the surface? Because she thinks maybe they could be each other’s perfect new beginning….
Jordan stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of her
No. Way.
The rodeo queen? Something else he’d held in his brain without realizing it. The memory of high and mighty Shae McArthur’s face—living proof that beauty was only skin deep. There’d never been one thing about her that he’d liked during the years they’d been on the rodeo team together…except for maybe that time she’d come on to him. He’d enjoyed her utterly shocked expression when he turned her down cold. She’d needed to be knocked off her high horse and he’d been glad to do the job. Literally, in fact.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
Shae blinked as he spoke, letting her hands drop a few inches. He could see when recognition kicked in, followed almost immediately by a look of horror. Of course. Beauty and the Beast. Face-to-face. As he recalled, Shae wasn’t too fond of the imperfect. Nothing but the best for her.
“Good to see you, too, Jordan,” she said huskily.
Dear Reader,
In the first installment of The Montana Way series, Once a Champion (Harlequin Superromance, June 2013), I created a monster—a Bridezilla, to be exact. In that book, Shae McArthur was an overachiever who’d been spoiled by her widowed father and stepmother. She was utterly self-absorbed and clueless as to the effect her actions had on other people.
I must be honest—it’s a lot of fun writing clueless and self-absorbed people, and I had a ball creating Shae. The only problem was that Bridezilla Shae was to be the heroine of the third book in the series—this book—so I had to figure out a way to redeem her. The best course of action seemed to be to destroy her world as she knows it (sorry, Shae, but it’s for your own good) and to force her to take a long, hard look at herself. So in a blink of an eye, Shae no longer has a fiancé or a job. She’s struggling to pay wedding bills and fighting to convince her boss to hire her back. Things are no longer coming easily to Shae, and it’s an eye opener.
Enter the hero. Jordan Bryan just wants to be left alone to heal. The survivor of a bombing while serving in the military, he’s dealing with physical and emotional scars. He retreats to the Montana ranch he inherited during his convalescence, only to discover perfection-loving Shae McArthur working there. Well, he’s not so perfect anymore, but neither is Shae, and he starts to feel a connection with the woman he’d written off as beautiful but superficial years ago…and he’s not certain what to do about that.
I like writing characters with issues, and Shae and Jordan gave me a lot to work with. These two have ended up being some of my favorite characters ever. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them. For more information about me and my books, or to contact me, please visit my website at www.jeanniewatt.com.
Take care and happy reading,
Jeannie Watt
JEANNIE
WATT
All for a Cowboy
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jeannie Watt lives in rural Nevada with her husband, horses and ponies, and she teaches high school in a small combined school close to the Nevada-Oregon border. When she’s not teaching or writing, Jeannie enjoys sewing retro fashions and reports on her new projects regularly in her blog, Retro Sewing Romance Writer. She also makes mosaic mirrors, ignores housework as much as possible and is thrilled to be married to a man who cooks.
Books by Jeannie Watt
HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE
1379—A DIFFICULT WOMAN
1444—THE HORSEMAN’S SECRET
1474—THE BROTHER RETURNS
1520—COP ON LOAN
1543—A COWBOY’S REDEMPTION
1576—COWBOY COMES BACK
1628—ALWAYS A TEMP
1647—ONCE AND FOR ALL
1690—MADDIE INHERITS A COWBOY
1749—THE BABY TRUCE*
1755—UNDERCOVER COOK*
1761—JUST DESSERTS*
1821—CROSSING NEVADA
1857—ONCE A CHAMPION**
1899—COWGIRL IN HIGH HEELS**
*Too Many Cooks?
**The Montana Way
Other titles by this author available in ebook format.
To my editor, Piya Campana.
I liked The Montana Way stories when I turned them in. I loved them after you shared your insights and helped me tweak, edit and overhaul. Thank you so very much!
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 FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EPILOGUE
EXCERPT
CHAPTER ONE
WAS THERE ANY way she could wear sunglasses all day?
Shae McArthur tipped the dark glasses down and tilted the rearview mirror so she could see her eyes. Dreadful. As if she’d been crying all night. More like crying for a week, to the point that even if she wanted to cry again, she’d have no tears left. The last registry had been canceled, the last deposit surrendered, all the many details involved in calling off a wedding dealt with—to a degree. There was still the matter of informing friends and extended family.
And the embarrassment. No, make that the flat-out humiliation.
Shae lowered her head to the steering wheel, summoning strength. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and shut out the world for...oh...ever, but she had a huge presentation that day, which she would give with swollen eyes. In an effort to distract, she’d slicked her long dark hair into a barrette at the back of her neck and worn a bright red dress and chunky jewelry, hoping to draw the eye away from her puffy face.
Shae pushed the sunglasses back into place and opened the Audi door. At least she could wear them until she got to her cubicle. Forcing her lips into a semismile, she crossed the parking lot and pushed through the front door of Cedar Creek Enterprises: Guest Ranch Division—not to be confused with Cedar Creek Enterprises: Real Estate Division one door over.
“Way to take surprise vacation days,” Gerald Bruffett muttered as he crossed in front of her carrying a presentation board.
“It couldn’t be helped,” Shae replied.
“Floral emergency?” he called back to her as he disappeared into the conference room. Shae ignored him and walked on. Her part of the presentation had been completed before she’d left for her sister’s wedding—and the worst day of her life—exactly one week ago. She was prepared. Sort of. The fine-tuning she’d hoped to do the past week hadn’t been done, but if there was one thing Shae was good at, it was winging it. Heaven knew she’d done it enough over the past year.
“What happened
to you?” Melinda Brody asked as soon as Shae walked around the cubicle wall. So much for red dresses and chunky jewelry—or sunglasses, for that matter—distracting anyone.
“Allergies.”
“Since when have you had allergies?”
“Last Sunday,” Shae said darkly as she shoved her purse into the bottom drawer of her desk. Mel had known her for far too long to be fooled by a lame excuse. She’d also been her only friend to decline the invitation to become a bridesmaid, because she spent every moment of her free time studying for a law degree. Shae sat and pulled off the sunglasses, surprised at how shaky she was—she who breezed through situations ordinary people hung back from.
She who had to tell her colleagues that the wedding was off.
“Allergies, my ass,” Mel muttered as she returned to her keyboard. Shae swiveled her chair toward her friend, who was now focused intently on the screen in front of her, and moistened her lips.
“Mel?”
“Yeah?” her friend asked, still studying the screen.
Reed called off the wedding.
The words stuck in her throat. She was gearing up to try again when Gerald stuck his balding head around the wall, somehow looking both harried and smug. “Wallace wants to see you,” he said.
Mel, who answered directly to the division manager, started to get up, but Gerald shook his head. “He wants to see Shae.”
“Thanks,” Shae said with a frown and Gerald disappeared again.
“Any idea?” Shae asked Mel. She hated going in blind if there was something she needed to know.
Mel shook her head, her eyebrows drawn together in a faintly perplexed expression. “Not a clue.”
Risa Lewis, Wallace’s associate, who, as usual, was wearing way too much makeup, smirked at Shae as she walked by. Risa always smirked at her, so that was no big deal, but this smirk seemed particularly self-satisfied, making Shae’s stomach tighten as she approached the open door of Wallace’s office. Something about this felt off, and when the division manager glanced up at her, all business, Shae’s midsection tightened even more.
“Close the door, Shae, and have a seat.”
Shae smiled, hoping it actually looked like a smile. “Thank you, Wallace.” She sat on the other side of the cluttered oak desk, smoothing her skirt.
“Shae, there’s no easy way to do this, so I’m just going to lay it out. We have to let you go.”
For a moment Shae simply stared at him, very much as she’d stared at her ex-fiancé less than a week ago, trying to wrap her mind around what he’d just said. This had to be a joke, something he’d cooked up to drive home the point that she’d taken vacation days at an inopportune time for the company.
“I have a marketing presentation today for the new acquisition,” she blankly.
Wallace gave his gray head a firm shake. “Risa has a marketing presentation today.”
Shae’s eyebrows shot upward. “You gave her my part of the project?”
“No. You did that.”
“I don’t understand.” And the numbness spreading through her insides as she realized just how serious Wallace was about firing her was making it hard to breathe.
“For the past eight months your mind has not been on the job.”
“I—”
He raised a hand. “You have been immersed in planning and executing not company business, but a wedding instead.”
“I’ve done my job—”
“Not with your full attention.” He leveled a hard stare at her over the top of his glasses. “You could have done better.”
Shae swallowed drily, desperately trying to come up with a strategy, but her brain, which always came up with a solution—except with Reed—seemed paralyzed. Do. Something.
She cleared her throat and said in her most reasonable voice, “If you’d given me some warning...a chance to redeem myself... If you would perhaps consider this a warning?” She smiled at him hopefully. Wallace had always liked her; surely he’d change his mind. Give her just one more chance. After all, she was good at what she did—especially when she was focused on it, and damn it, she would focus on her job, and only her job, in the future.
“Miranda is adamant that we need to cut back.” One corner of his mouth tightened ominously at the mention of the company owner’s name. She was a woman people tended to tiptoe around, but Shae had always prided herself on getting along well with their demanding boss. So why had she now been singled out?
“I’ve spent the past four days going over employee performance,” Wallace continued.
The four days she’d been gone. Things started to fall into place. “I took legitimate vacation days,” she protested.
“With very little warning.”
“I had a personal emergency.”
Wedding related? He didn’t need to say it. Shae could read it in his face. “I’m sorry about this, Shae.”
“Reed called off the wedding,” she blurted. “I needed a couple days to deal with it.”
A look of dawning comprehension crossed Wallace’s face. “I can understand that,” he said after a few silent seconds. “But it doesn’t change things.” His voice softened as he said, “I know this is a shock, but it’s not negotiable.” He pushed a packet toward her. “I’d like to go over the severance package with you.”
Shae didn’t hear a word he said about the packet, but she must have nodded at the right times, because he continued to explain while she tried desperately to think of some way to save herself. She’d always been able to save herself. Finally he said, “Vera will escort you from the building and be in contact in case you have any questions regarding severance.”
That got through to her. Shae’s head snapped up. “Escort me?” As in, she’d have to walk past Risa and out the door with Vera dogging her?
“Company policy.”
“I need my purse.”
“Vera has already collected your things.” And sure enough, when she walked out of Wallace’s office, the older woman was waiting near Risa’s desk with a cardboard box, Shae’s Dooney & Bourke purse balanced on the top of her other belongings. Shae reached for the box, but Vera stepped back.
“I’ll carry it, dear.”
Shae tilted up her chin, inhaled as she focused on the exit thirty feet away and started walking, wincing a little as her phone began buzzing from inside her purse. Last week it would have been a caterer or florist. This week it was probably her family, checking up on her.
Well, now she had more bad news for them and she had no idea how to tell them.
* * *
JORDAN BRYAN DIDN’T know how much longer he could drive without finding a place to pull over and sleep. His travel partner had been drifting in and out for most of the day, but once it got dark, the poodle had conked out for good.
The poodle.
Go figure.
Once he’d made his mind up to go, Jordan had tried to slip away while the dog was on his neighborhood rounds, but Clyde had come scampering around the Arlington apartment complex at the last minute, skidding to a stop at the curb next to the car, curly head cocked to one side as if to say, Really, man? After all this you’re running out on me?
Yeah, he was. He was running out on everything and nothing. He was running and he couldn’t even say why, except that every day he stayed where he was, doing the mindless job he’d been given, added to his raging sense of unrest.
The dog had then taken it upon himself to trot around the car to the driver’s-side door and jump up, his toenails scratching the metal. Jordan had tried to harden himself, just as he’d hardened himself that morning when he’d abruptly told his supervisor he was leaving his mercy job and wouldn’t be back, but at the last minute he’d opened the door. The homeless poodle had jumped in, scurried across Jordan’s lap and settled himself i
n the passenger seat as if there’d never been any question of whether or not he’d be going.
Jordan only hoped that the dog knew what he was getting into traveling cross-country in a tiny used Subaru with no air conditioning. He snorted now at the thought and wiped a hand over his tired face, his fingers grazing the numb ridges of the burn scars near his ear before he reached over to turn the volume of the radio up. Hell, he didn’t know what he was getting into—or going back to.
He just hoped Miranda hadn’t screwed him over.
* * *
THE BLACK BUTTE PORTER that Reed had left behind wasn’t working. Shae set the glass on the table and reached for the tequila, pouring a healthy shot before settling back against the teal-blue sofa cushions and staring out across the room. It looked barren without the boxes of wedding favors, her master-plan board...her dress.
The dress was listed on Craigslist for a price she’d never get but was still half of what she’d paid. The favors and master-plan board were in the trash, along with the tasteful ivory invitations embossed with indigo lettering inviting one and all to celebrate the joining of this man and this woman.
Shae socked back the shot and poured another.
She hadn’t heard from Reed in two days, but even if she did, it would just be a courtesy on his part. Whatever they’d had was well and truly over—mainly because she wouldn’t be with a guy who’d done this to her. A little notice might have been nice, before she and her parents had spent a fortune.
Shae reached for the bottle again. She probably should have had a clue that something wasn’t quite right when he’d refused to move in together to save rent after she’d pushed the wedding date back for a second time so she had time to make everything perfect. He hadn’t given a reason, but had said simply, “Let’s wait.” And since he’d seen things her way in all the other matters pertaining to their wedding, she’d agreed. It was only a matter of two months’ rent, and her apartment had been jammed with wedding stuff, anyway.
Tequila dripped onto Shae’s leg as she poured the next shot. At least he’d told her before the invitations had gone out. She’d organized her stunned bridesmaids into a phone tree, except for her stepsister, Liv, of course, who was on her honeymoon.
