The Right Cowboy

by Rebecca Winters

  The warm August night couldn’t have been more perfect. Cole pulled her down on the grass with him while they watched the grass dance and the hoop dance accompanied by drums, rattles and bells.

  Tamsin loved the grass dance performed by the men. They wore tassels of grass that swayed with their movements, imitating the wind whistling through the grass on the plains. The hoop dances were creative versions of the animals of the plains. The night seemed enchanted, especially when Cole kept kissing her at every opportunity.

  The tepee stood tall against the sky, symbolic of the great Arapahoe nation that was here before the white man. Though Tamsin had loved being in Hawaii, she’d never known a more romantic night than this one with Sam and Louise’s family and people.

  They celebrated until far into the night. When Cole finally helped her to her feet, Tamsin’s heart pounded hard as he led her to the tepee for the night. She could easily pretend she was an Indian maiden following her warrior lover to his tepee.

  Knowing what awaited her during the night, she could hardly contain her excitement. Cole lit the lantern and spread out the double sleeping bag.

  “Sweetheart? Tonight we’re going to do it the Arapahoe way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t wear anything to bed.” He removed his clothes and got under the covers. “Now it’s your turn.” He was still sitting up. She hesitated for a moment. “Surely you’re not shy around me after what we experienced on Kauai.”

  “Is this really the custom?”

  He let out a deep laugh that filled the tepee. “I have no idea. I haven’t asked Sam.”

  “Oh, you!”

  She disrobed with maidenly modesty and slid under the covers next to him.

  To her surprise he pulled something out from under the covers. It looked like a roll of wrapping paper, probably two and a half to three feet in length. He handed it to her.

  “What’s this, darling?”

  “Open it and find out.”

  Her hands fairly shook as she took off the paper, hoping not to tear anything. In a minute the whole paper came off to reveal a wrapped-up skin. Cole helped her open it all the way.

  A gasp fell from Tamsin’s lips when she realized what it was.

  Everything an Indian does is in a circle, and that is because the power of the world always works in circles, and everything tries to be round. The sky is round and I have heard the earth is round like a ball, and so are all the stars. The wind in its greatest power whirls, birds make their nest in circles, for theirs is the same religion as ours. The sun comes forth and goes down again in a circle. The moon does the same and both are round. Our tepees were round like the nests of birds. And they were always set in a circle, the nation’s hoop. Even the seasons form a great circle in their changing, and always come back again to where they were.

  —Chief Black Elk

  “Doris made this painting for us!”

  He nodded. “She likes you very much, or she wouldn’t have gone to this kind of trouble and used an elk skin. It’s a great honor, Tamsin.”

  “I know it is. We’ll put it wherever you think it should go in our home.”

  “Our home.” His brown eyes shone with a luster she’d never seen before. He moved the skin away from their bag and put out the light. “Come here, sweetheart. I want to relish this night with you in my arms.”

  Tamsin nestled against him. “It feels so surreal to be in this tepee sleeping out under the stars. Everything seems so right. Sam and Louise are wonderful people with such a rich heritage. I’m grateful to be able to share it.”

  “That’s how I feel about you. Blessed beyond belief to realize you’re my wife.”

  She kissed him with longing. “We’re going to have the most wonderful life. I can’t wait until we have a baby.”

  “I think we’ve done a pretty good job of working on it so far. But until our first one arrives, let’s just savor the two of us having this time together. You have no idea how jealous the guys are who aren’t married yet. I hate to tell them they’ll never find a woman like you.”

  “Like I said, I feel sorry for Eve, but I guess it’s true that what you don’t know can’t torture you.”

  More laughter rumbled out of Cole before he reached for her and taught her a new meaning for the word ecstasy.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Sally?”

  Tamsin ran through Sally and Lyle’s new home at noon and found her in the nursery.

  “Shh.” Her sister turned to her. Tamsin looked in the crib. Their precious four-month-old, Kellie, was asleep, curled up in one corner clutching her blanket.

  “Sorry.” She mouthed the words. They walked out and down the hall to the front room.

  Sally smiled at her. “What went on in the mountains to make you look and sound this excited?”

  “It’s what happened when we got back this morning. I just came from seeing your OB. We’re expecting!”

  The two sisters hugged each other in happiness. “Does Cole know?”

  “Not yet. I came here first.”

  She cocked her head. “Don’t you think he’d want to know first?”

  “Yes, but because you suspected I was pregnant last week before we left on our last trip, I decided to tell you first. You’ve always had an uncanny knack for knowing what was going on with me. Have I told you how much I love you for seeing into my heart and urging me to be honest with Cole? I’m so happy every minute of my life with him, I’ll be forever indebted to you.”

  Sally shook her head. “Even if you made it hard for him, he wouldn’t have given up. You two were meant to be together.”

  “I know we are.” But her smile faded. “Tell me one thing. How’s Dean been since he moved to Riverton?”

  “Believe it or not, Lyle says he’s met someone.”

  Tamsin’s heart clapped for joy. “Oh, I hope it’s the real thing for him. I’ll always love him in my own way.”

  “I think he knew that. I love him, too. It would be great if this was the real thing.” She grabbed Tamsin’s hand and pulled her over to the couch. “I want to hear details about the baby.”

  “I’m six weeks pregnant.”

  “Knowing you, you’ve got names picked out already.”

  “If it’s a boy, I want to name him after Cole’s father. He worshipped that man.”

  “And if it’s a girl?”

  “Cole will probably have his own ideas on that.”

  “What do you bet he writes a dozen songs about him or her before the baby’s born.”

  Tamsin nodded. “Would you and Lyle come to the ranch for a surprise dinner tonight and bring Kellie? I’ve already invited Mom and Dad. Sam and Louise will be there as well as Doris and her husband. We’ll have a big family celebration. I’m going to make a cake that says ‘Proud Papa.’”

  “Cole will die.”

  “That’s the plan, figuratively speaking. I swear, Sally. If anything ever happened to him...”

  “Hey—I thought you were over thinking like that. You’re going to be a mother. Concentrate on the family you’ve started. Another Hawkins is on the way. It’ll either be a barrel racer or a bull rider. Frankly, I hope it’s a girl for Kellie to play with. Have you seen the little tiny baby cowboy boots at the shop in town? They’re so cute!”

  “What’s so cute?”

  Lyle had just walked into the living room.

  “Oh, honey—Tamsin has the best news on earth!”

  “I already knew that.”

  “How do you know?” Tamsin asked.

  “My wife told me last week. Congratulations.” He walked over and hugged her.

  The three of them broke down laughing and suddenly they could hear the baby crying.

  Lyle headed out of the room. “You two go on plotting while I get her. You and Cole hav
e no idea what you’re in for now.”

  Tamsin couldn’t wait. She jumped up from the couch. “I’ve got to go home and get ready for Cole. Tell Lyle goodbye for me. See you tonight.”

  She raced out of the house to her truck, unable to get home fast enough. A bright new future awaited them. He just didn’t know it yet.

  * * * * *

  Watch for the next story in Rebecca Winters’s

  WIND RIVER COWBOYS miniseries,

  STRANDED WITH THE RANCHER,

  coming June 2018,

  only from Harlequin Western Romance!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from RODEO LEGENDS: SHANE by Pamela Britton.

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  Rodeo Legends: Shane

  by Pamela Britton

  Chapter One

  Kaitlin Cooper stared down at the plastic tube sitting on the counter of her bathroom, the twin lines of pink an evil eye that seemed to glare up at her.

  “No,” she murmured, clutching the counter for support. But the two lines were unmistakable. Still, she picked the tube up, turning it this way and that, hoping against hope the pink lines were a trick of the light. They weren’t.

  Pregnant. That was what the little diagram for dummies told her.

  How did this happen?

  She straightened, tipped her head back. Well, she knew how. But she took precautions. She had to take precautions. Stock-car racing was a male-dominated sport. All she needed were rumors of a pregnancy to unravel all the hard work she’d put into her career.

  Pregnant.

  Her fingernails started to ache. Only then did she take a deep breath, straighten up and firmly look herself in the eye. Her pupils were like tiny dots in blots of blue paint. Her blond hair, usually pulled back in a ponytail, hung loose around her shoulders slightly mussed, not surprising since she’d run her fingers through the long strands at least a half a dozen times while waiting for the pregnancy test to reveal its grim news.

  Okay. So. She was pregnant. She’d figure out the pros and cons.

  Pros: she now had an explanation for the sudden bouts of dizziness and the persistent stomach flu that had refused to go away. She wasn’t suffering the lingering effects of concussion. She wasn’t terminally ill. She was going to have a baby.

  Con: she was going to have a baby.

  Her sponsor would freak. She couldn’t race while pregnant, which meant she’d have to break the news to the team owner, who just so happened to be her dad, and she didn’t even want to think about how that little conversation would go. Plus she had a race in two weeks, the first race of the season. How would they find a replacement driver in time?

  She leaned over the sink because she truly felt she might vomit.

  How did it happen?

  Duh. She’d had a quick fling with Shane Gillian, professional rodeo rider, a man she’d met in Las Vegas. He’d been there for the National Finals Rodeo. She’d been there to test her new car. They’d both been invited to the same party. They’d hit it off comparing notes about life on the road and the pitfalls of fame. Heck, they both had famous fathers, too, and, well, one thing had led to another, and she couldn’t even blame it on stupidity brought on by an overindulgence of alcohol. It had just...happened.

  Dumb, dumb, dumb.

  She padded back to her bedroom. Her eyes caught on the massive bed in the center of the room. Her own little slice of heaven with its off-white bedspread and fluffy pillows. All she wanted to do was climb beneath the covers and pull them over her head. Her fingers shook as she automatically reached for the cell phone sitting on her nightstand. Still, she hesitated. She could always just deal with this on her own. Shane Gillian didn’t need to know. She could make an announcement detailing her need to take a break from racing...

  She couldn’t take a break. People just didn’t quit for a year. What would her fans say? Scratch that. What would her mother say?

  Her eyes began to burn, but she refused to cry. She hated crybabies. Race-car drivers were made of sterner stuff. She just needed to figure something out.

  Her fingers scanned the contact list in her phone without her even thinking about it, and the name Shane Gillian appeared right there in black and white. She hadn’t called him...afterward. She’d assumed he, like her, had a busy life. He hadn’t called her, either. It’d been a fling. They’d both known that. Never mind the connection they’d had. Things might have turned out differently if they were different people with different careers and different lives. But they’d both known what would happen the next morning. No hard feelings.

  She pressed the call button. It rang once before she hung up. This kind of news should be delivered in person. Maybe a video chat? she thought as she plopped down on the bed. Would that work? Beep. Beep. Guess what? We’re pregnant.

  Her phone rang.

  She about jumped out of her skin. A name flashed on the screen. He’d called her back.

  Ignore him.

  But she couldn’t. If she planned to meet with him, she would need to contact him sooner or later. So she took a deep breath, told herself to calm down, closed her eyes and said, “Hey.”

  A deep baritone, the same one that’d sent chills up her spine the day they’d met, said, “It is you, isn’t it? I thought it might be. Recognized the area code.”

  She gulped. What to say?

  She opened her eyes. Stared out at the water beyond her single-story home on the shores of Lake Norman. A home she was proud of. A home she’d purchased on her own with the purse money from her first big win. It was beautiful outside. She could smell the blooms of the cherry tree from where she sat, although how the sun could still be shining when her whole world had just been turned end over end, she had no idea.

  “Hello?”

  “Oh, um, sorry. I didn’t mean to call. I mean, I did, I just decided I’d call you later instead.”

  “Is this a bad time?”

  She almost laughed. Hysterical laughter. Instead she said, “No, no. I can talk.”

  Pregnant.

  Silence again. She took the plunge. “I’ve, ah, been thinking about you. And, um, I have some free time this weekend. I was wondering if maybe you and I could get together?”

  She could perfectly picture his blue eyes. The dark hair. The sideburns. Heck, even his smile. He had the swe
etest smile. It emphasized the cleft in his chin, which always seemed to be covered by the faintest hint of a beard in the pictures she’d seen of him online.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  Surely he could hear the panic in her voice? Or her harsh breaths? She felt on the verge of an anxiety attack. This wasn’t just a mistake. This was a disaster. Potentially a career-ending disaster. She needed him to know. Needed his help.

  “I could fly out to California...”

  She left the rest of her words unspoken. She knew what he would think. That she wanted to see him again for another wild night of debauchery. What he couldn’t know was that their night together had been a complete aberration. She didn’t just fall into bed with complete strangers. She couldn’t afford to do that.

  “That sounds great.”She could hear the smile in his voice. “I can show you my hometown.”

  He was the son of a famous team roper. That much she knew. Some kind of multiple world champion. She’d done a little bit of Googling after their night together. She also knew he was a bull rider. And that he was good. As good as she was at driving a race car.

  No driving anymore.

  Despite her best efforts, she felt a knot build in her throat. It made it hard to say, “It won’t be an imposition?”

  “Not at all.”

  She found a pen and paper, scribbled down the details, her hands shaking so badly she doubted she’d be able to read it later.

  My mother is going to kill me.

  She would deal with that later. Right after she talked to Shane.

  Shane.

  The drop-dead-gorgeous cowboy who had rocked her world.

  And gotten her pregnant.

  * * *

  “YOU SURE YOU don’t want to head out to the Silver Spur later on?”

  Shane glanced at his brother Carson and shook his head. Hotrod, the horse he’d been riding, liked to bloat his gut whenever he cinched him up, and Shane could see the damn leather strap was hanging like an empty noose beneath the horse’s belly. Son of a—Good thing he hadn’t fallen while they were out checking the new calves. Too damn distracted thinking about her.