by Rita Herron
Willow shook her head. “I can’t go back there, Brett. Not with you.” She hesitated and averted her eyes. “Our time has passed.”
Brett’s lungs squeezed for air. She wasn’t even going to give him a chance?
He couldn’t accept that. “Willow, you’ve been through a terrible ordeal. We all have. I was terrified that I’d lost you. Maybe you blame me for that, for everything.”
She slipped from bed, hugging the hospital gown around her. “Don’t, Brett. I’d appreciate it if you’d ask Mama Mary or Rose to bring me some clothes so I can shower and get Sam. Then we’ll find a place to stay on our own.”
Brett watched with a hollow feeling in his gut as she stepped into the bathroom and shut the door.
He phoned Mama Mary, and she agreed to bring Sam and some clothes. Willow must have gotten soap and shampoo from the nurse. By the time she was finished showering in the bathroom and in a clean hospital gown, Mama Mary was there.
She knocked and peeked in the door with a smile. When Willow saw Sam, her face lit up. She opened her arms and he fell into them.
The two of them hugged like they hadn’t seen each other for years.
Suddenly Brett felt like the outsider. Like an intruder who didn’t belong.
He stepped outside to gather his composure, his emotions in a tailspin. He’d thought he and Willow had gotten close again, that she had feelings for him. But had he hurt her too much for her to forgive him? Didn’t she want him to be part of Sam’s life?
Mama Mary patted his shoulder. “I’m sorry, son. But Willow asked me to drive her to a hotel. I don’t understand what’s going on between you two, but she probably just needs some time.”
Or maybe he’d lost his chance years ago and Willow would never love him again.
* * *
THREE DAYS LATER, Willow was still miserable. She and Sam were temporarily staying in a small apartment above the fabric store in town. The lady who commissioned several of her quilts had been generous, and Willow had jumped at the chance to be close to town. Somehow she felt safer knowing the sheriff’s office was down the street.
But she missed Brett, and so did Sam.
She pushed the boxes of pictures that she’d brought with her into the closet. Out of sight, out of mind.
Except she couldn’t get Brett out of her mind. Which made her furious at herself.
Brett was probably packing to leave for his big movie role. Planning a hot, sexy, wild night with that woman, Ginger.
She would be only a whisper of a memory to him once he got to Hollywood and the sophisticated women who were probably dying to have a cowboy in their bed swarmed after him.
Sam lined his toy ponies on the floor, then pretended to gallop them around the pasture. How could she not look at her son and see Brett?
Worse, she didn’t know what to say to Sam. How to explain why they weren’t staying at the ranch anymore.
They still hadn’t told Sam that Brett was his father. Brett hadn’t pushed either.
Maybe he wanted it that way. If that was the case, it was best that Sam stay in the dark.
Determined to distract herself, she sorted through the mail. A white envelope written in calligraphy caught her eye. She opened the envelope, surprised to find a wedding invitation to Maddox and Rose’s wedding.
It was to be a simple affair, just family and a few friends, and would take place at Horseshoe Creek.
She tucked the invitation back in the envelope, her heart aching. She wasn’t family, but Sam was. Only he had no idea that he belonged to the McCullens.
Could she deprive him of that?
* * *
BRETT HAD TRIED to take Mama Mary’s advice and give Willow time. But every day without her and Sam in his life was so painful he could barely breathe.
But today was his brother’s wedding, and of course it made him think of Willow and the wedding they’d never had. The one they should have had.
The one he wanted.
But after all Maddox had done for him, he had to put his brother first today.
Chaos filled the house as Mama Mary ushered everyone around. The caterers, florist, the vendor with the tables and tent they’d ordered for the lawn.
And of course, him and Ray.
She’d insisted they wear long duster jackets and bolo ties, since they were standing up for Maddox.
Brett was his best man.
He felt humbled and honored and so damn glad to be home at Horseshoe Creek that he never wanted to leave.
The realization hit him, and he stepped into his old room and called his agent to tell her he was going to refuse the movie deal. He was done putting on shows.
He would stick around here and help Maddox run the ranch. And one day he would win Willow back.
Determination renewed, he left a message for Ginger, then strode down the steps. Maddox looked nervous but happier than any man had a right to be. He’d invited the ranch hands, Gus Garcia and his family, and Deputy Whitefeather, who seemed standoffish to him and Ray, though he didn’t have time to contemplate the reason.
The weather had warmed today, a breeze stirring the trees, but the sun was shining, the flowers Rose had chosen dotting the landscape with color.
“Come on, brothers. It’s time,” Maddox said.
Brett and Ray followed Maddox and found the guests already seated in white chairs by the creek. Mama Mary and Rose had created an altar of flowers between two trees where Rose stood, looking like an angel.
The smile she gave Maddox sparkled with love.
Maddox was a damn lucky man.
Ray fidgeted with his tie, as if it was choking him, but Brett pasted on his camera-ready smile. As he and Ray took their places, he glanced at the guests and saw Willow and Sam sitting by Mama Mary.
His heart nearly stopped. She looked so beautiful in that pale green dress with her long hair billowing around her shoulders. Gone were the bruises and dirt from the mine, although her eyes still held remnants of the horror.
Was she still having those bad dreams? Who was holding her at night and soothing her when she did?
How about Sam? He looked handsome in that Western shirt and bolo tie. It was almost like Brett’s. But did he have nightmares at night, too?
He was so enamored with watching the two of them that for a moment the ceremony faded to a blur and he imagined that he and Willow were the ones declaring their love.
Ray poked him. “The ring, brother.”
He jolted back to the present and handed Maddox the simple gold band he’d bought for Rose.
Maddox and Rose exchanged vows, then kissed and cheers erupted. He and Ray turned to congratulate them, yet all Brett could do was wish he and Willow were the ones getting married today.
Champagne, whiskey, beer and wine flowed at the reception on the lawn by the creek that the ranch had been named for, and he took a shot of whiskey for courage, then went to talk to Willow before she could run.
He wanted her and Sam, and he didn’t intend to back down without a fight.
He found her standing with Sam by the creek. She was trying to teach him how to skip rocks, but she had it all wrong.
He picked up a smooth stone, squeezed Sam’s shoulder and then showed him the McCullen way. Willow’s gaze met his, sadness and regret flickering in the depths.
But for a brief second, he saw desire spark. Enough desire to warm his heart and give him a second jolt of courage.
Sam squealed when the water rippled at his next attempt, and Brett patted his back. “Good job.”
Sam stooped to collect more stones, and Brett brushed Willow’s arm. “You look beautiful tonight.”
A sweet blush stained her cheeks. “I thought you’d be gone by now,” she finally said.
Brett shrugged. “Maybe I don’t want to go.”
She gestured toward Maddox and Rose who were dancing in the moonlight while the wedding guests watched. “I’m sure Maddox is glad you stayed for the ceremony.”
“Tha
t’s not the reason I stayed.”
Sam picked up another stone, raised his hand and sailed it across the creek.
“Good job, Sam.”
Sam grinned. “You still gonna let me ride your horses like you promised?”
Willow laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Sam, honey, we’ll get you lessons somewhere. Brett is a busy man. He has to leave soon. He’s going back to the rodeo, and he’s going to star in a movie.”
Brett’s smile faltered. “Where did you get that idea?”
Willow leaned down to speak to Sam for a minute. “If you want a cookie, you can go get one now.”
Sam bounced up and down with a grin and ran toward the table with the cookie tray.
“I heard you on the phone with that woman, Ginger. I’m sure she’s waiting for you with open arms.”
Brett chuckled. Was that a note of jealousy in Willow’s voice? “Ginger is my publicist and agent, Willow. Nothing more.”
She averted her gaze. “Well, I’m sure there will be lots of women in Hollywood.”
“What if I don’t want Hollywood?”
“I know you, Brett, you always had big dreams. You belong in the limelight, not here.”
Brett squared his shoulders. “You don’t want me to be around Sam?”
“That’s not what I said.”
He cleared his throat, changing the subject. He had to get this out in the open. Had to know the truth. “Why didn’t you tell me about him, Willow?”
She closed her eyes for a brief second, her breath unsteady. When she opened them, he saw regret and some other emotion that he couldn’t define.
“Why, Willow? Because you didn’t think I’d be a good father?”
“What? No.” Her eyes flared. “You wanted to leave.”
“You didn’t give me a chance to choose the right thing.”
“The right thing? What was that, Brett? What was I supposed to do, tell you I was pregnant and trap you into staying?” She waved her hand around the air. “You would have resented me for asking you to give up your dreams and it would have killed any love you had for me.”
He hated to admit it, but she had a point. He had been young and restless. And he might have felt trapped.
But he’d changed. Grown up. Seen what was out there and figured out what was important in his life. “I’m sorry I wasn’t the man you wanted, that you needed back then.”
Sadness tinged her eyes. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about Sam, but I honestly didn’t want to hold you back. Then you would have hated me, Brett, and I couldn’t have stood that.”
“I could never hate you, Willow.” He lifted her hand into his. Hers was trembling. Or maybe it was his.
“I’m sorry for so many things, for not being here for you, for leaving so that you let Leo into your life, and into Sam’s.”
“That’s not your fault,” Willow said. “That was my mistake.”
Brett kissed the palm of her hand. “We both made mistakes, but Sam is not one of them. And I’m not going back to the rodeo or starring in a movie.”
Willow’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re not?”
“No.” Brett’s heart swelled with love for her and his brothers and the land he’d once called home. He’d had to leave it to know how much it meant to him.
“I already told my agent, I’m done with rodeo, and that I don’t want the movie deal.”
“But Brett, it is a good opportunity for you.”
“Maybe. But...I’ve wasted enough time. I want to be here.”
“In Pistol Whip?”
He nodded. “I’m going to help Maddox run Horseshoe Creek.” He grinned just thinking about his plans. “Being here will give me more time for you and Sam.” He glanced at Sam, his heart nearly overflowing. “I promised him I’d teach him to ride.”
Tears glittered on Willow’s eyelashes. “He’ll like that. That is, if that’s what you want.”
Brett took her other hand in his and drew her closer, then looked into her eyes. “What I want is you, Willow.” He kissed her fingers one by one. “I love you and always have.”
“But you’re a wanderer, Brett. A dreamer.”
“We can wander together,” he said. “And I have lots of dreams.” He pulled her to him and kissed her. “I’ve been dreaming all week about marrying you and the three of us living on the ranch. That cabin is pretty small and Maddox and Rose are in the big house, but I have enough money to build us a house of our own.”
“But you gave up your money to get Sam back.”
Brett shrugged. “That was just a small part of my savings. Besides, when Maddox made the arrests, he retrieved the stolen money. A portion of it will go to Eleanor, who has agreed to continue caring for Leo’s grandmother.”
“What about her husband?”
“I told Maddox not to bother pressing charges. The man wasn’t bad, just desperate.”
“That’s generous of you, Brett.”
He shrugged. “I guess I understand what desperation can do to a man. The rest of the cash will be divided among the ranchers the men stole from. He also recovered my hundred K.”
Willow licked her lips. “I...don’t know what to say, Brett.”
“Say you love me, Willow,” he said huskily. “That you’ll be my wife.”
Willow’s mouth spread into the smile that he remembered as a young man; the adoring, loving one she’d reserved only for his eyes.
She looped her arms around his neck. “I love you, Brett. I never stopped.” She stood on tiptoes and kissed him tenderly. “But you’re giving me so much. What can I give you?”
“You’ve already given me the greatest gift of all. A son.”
Willow toyed with the ends of his hair. “He is pretty special. I think he looks like his dad. He acts like him, too, sometimes.”
Brett chuckled. “Then we’re in for trouble.”
Her look grew serious. “Are you sure, Brett? You won’t get tired of being here? Of me?”
“I could never get tired of you, Willow. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.” He nuzzled her neck. “And there is one more thing you can give me.”
Willow laughed softly. “What?”
He laughed and kissed her again. “A little girl.”
Willow smiled and kissed him again, passion sparking between them just as tender and erotic as it always was when he touched her.
“Mommy, Brett, I gots cookies!” Sam raced toward him with cookie crumbs all over his mouth and they both laughed, then took his hand and walked along the creek.
Tonight they would tell Sam that Brett was his father, and that they were finally going to be a family.
And Sam would grow up a McCullen on Horseshoe Creek.
Brett could almost see his father smiling down at him from Heaven.
He would teach Sam to be a man just as his father had taught him.
Epilogue
Ray watched his brothers congratulate each other. Maddox married Rose. Brett was back with the woman of his dreams and had a son.
He wanted to pound their backs and wish them good luck. Tell them he was happy for them.
Find that kind of love for himself.
But the bitterness he’d felt for years ate him up inside like a poison.
Maddox and Brett still thought their old man hung the moon.
If they knew the truth, would they feel the same way? Or would they understand the reason he and his father had fought?
Maddox raised a glass of whiskey to make a toast, and Ray slipped into the shadows where he’d tried to stay all his life. He’d protected his brothers by keeping his father’s secrets and lies.
As soon as the reading of the will was over, he’d leave Horseshoe Creek again. If he stuck around any longer, he might be tempted to tell them the truth.
But the old saying about the truth setting you free was a lie.
* * * * *
Look for more books in USA TODAY
bestselling author Rita Herron’s
THE HEROES OF HORSESHOE CREEK
miniseries in 2016.
You’ll find them wherever
Harlequin Intrigue books and ebooks are sold!
Keep reading for an excerpt from BLACK CANYON CONSPIRACY by Cindi Myers.
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Black Canyon Conspiracy
by Cindi Myers
Chapter One
The sound of the explosion reverberated through the underground tunnels. Lauren tried to run, terrified the rocks would collapse around her, but her legs felt as if they were mired in sand. She fought to see in the murky darkness, choking on rising dust, her ears ringing from the aftershock. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound emerged.
A strong hand grabbed hers, pulling her toward the light. Gunshots sounded behind them, even as rock chips flew from the wall beside her head, the fragments stinging her skin. The man with her pulled her in front of him, shielding her with his body. “Go!” he commanded, and shoved her harder. “Run!”
She ran, dodging piles of rubble and fresh cascades of rock. The dim light ahead began to grow brighter. Footsteps pounded behind her and she started to scream again, but it was only the man, his embrace warm and reassuring. “It’s going to be all right,” he said. “You’re strong. You can make it.”
He sounded so certain that, despite all the evidence to the contrary, she believed him.
Another tremor shook the cavern, and larger boulders crashed around them. One struck her shoulder, knocking her to her knees. The man pulled her up, into his arms, and kept running, dodging the falling rock, taking the blows and moving on, always forward, toward freedom.
