And Cowboy Makes Three

by Deb Kastner

  It was an old shoe box, decorated with ribbons that were probably older than Granny had been.

  “See? She did keep a treasure chest.” His voice was full of awe and respect, but then he flashed her a very Rowdy, toothy, I-told-you-so grin. “What do you know, big guy?” he said, addressing Toby. “You found our treasure for us.”

  Neither of them spoke as she gently pulled off the lid to the box, careful not to mess up any of the decorations.

  The very first thing she saw was an envelope—with her and Rowdy’s names on it, on top of a layer of tissue paper.

  He chuckled. “I thought Jo said we had already seen the last of the envelopes.”

  “Maybe she didn’t know about this one,” Angelica suggested in a hushed tone.

  “I opened the last one,” Rowdy said. “Why don’t you do the honors on this one? I suspect it’s going to be special.”

  Angelica did, too. She held her breath as she slid her finger under the seal and pulled out the tri-folded paper.

  “It’s more than three words,” she said. “In fact, it’s an honest-to-goodness page-long letter. A story, I think.”

  Rowdy rested his palms on his thighs and leaned forward. “Something tells me this is going to wrap everything up. As crazy as the last few weeks have been, we could use a little closure. I can’t wait to hear it.”

  A little closure.

  Was that what this was? Because even though she’d intended to stop by the hospital and offer Rowdy a proper goodbye, closure, it would not be.

  Dear Angelica and Rowdy,

  I hope you’ve had fun taking part in my little scavenger hunt. I know there must have been some confusing moments and many emotional ones, but I’m hoping there were happy ones, too.

  “You can say that again,” Rowdy muttered.

  Angelica lifted an eyebrow. “Are you done?”

  “Sorry. Sorry. No more commentating.” He grinned and zipped his lips.

  I have a little story to tell you, one about

  Josiah—your Gramps, Angelica—and me. I don’t think I ever told you, but Josiah grew up on a cattle ranch. It was my parents who owned the sheep. Anyway, a little after we got engaged—at age seventeen, just like the two of you did—Josiah was helping a neighbor at a roundup and got caught up trying to herd a couple of stray cattle across a stream.

  The cows balked, and then his horse bucked and he fell off and busted his leg pretty bad.

  Rowdy groaned. “This is starting to feel a little bit too familiar.”

  “Will you hush and let me keep reading?” she teased.

  We didn’t have access to the kind of doctors and medicines y’all have today. No physical therapy like that which helped Rowdy recover. Serendipity was too far out and far too small for us to have that kind of help. Some old quack just set the bone and Josiah let it heal on its own.

  So as a result, Josiah couldn’t ride anymore and because of that he judged himself to be less of a man. I didn’t see it, because I was head over ears in love with the stubborn man.

  Can you believe he tried to run me off, telling me I ought to marry someone whole—whatever that means? Lord knows all of us are broken. Anyway, raising sheep on a small ranch doesn’t necessarily require riding on horseback, and before long there were other mechanical means of transportation.

  I thought about leaving town. I almost did. That’s why my heart broke when you left without coming to talk to me first, Angelica. I knew just how you felt, and I could have shared this story with you and saved you and Rowdy both a lot of pain.

  But you did come back, didn’t you? And if you’re reading this, then you’ve been spending time with Rowdy. It took Josiah and me a while to work out our problems, but in the end we said our I do’s and we had a good life together. A great one, actually.

  God is good, all the time. I hope the treasure you find in this box will mean something special to you. You are both too stubborn for your own good, just like your Gramps and me. I hope you see why I felt I had to nudge you on a little bit with those tasks I gave you. And I hope you know I’ve done this in love.

  Angelica, I really wish I could have met your son, but you know I already love him with my whole heart.

  Enjoy the treasure I’ve left you, and bask in the gift of each other and your son. Gramps and I are looking down on you three and smiling.

  Love,

  Granny

  Angelica pressed her lips together, not even trying to stem the flood of tears pouring down her cheeks.

  She’d made so many mistakes, and yet—

  Granny was so certain she could rise above them. She had known the mistakes Angelica had made eight years ago, hers and Rowdy’s personalities together and apart, and she’d still believed in both of them.

  “I think there’s something inside this tissue.” Rowdy leaned down and picked up a tissue-wrapped package. “Do you want to open it?”

  Unable to speak, she shook her head and gestured for him to do it.

  Fold by fold, he unwrapped the gift Granny had gone to such lengths to give them.

  Rowdy laughed as he undid the last fold.

  “Look here. Blue baby booties. Hand knit by Granny Frances, if I don’t miss my guess.”

  “Oh,” Angelica exclaimed, clapping a hand over her mouth as a sob escaped. “She made these for Toby.”

  “Yep,” Rowdy agreed. “Wait, though. There’s someth—” He cut off his word midsentence. “Well, what do you know?”

  “What?”

  “I may be thick, but even I can take a hint as bold as this one.”

  He held up the baby booties. Tied to each one was a ring.

  Wedding rings, Angelica realized. Rings that had once belonged to Granny and Gramps.

  It took Rowdy a moment to untie Granny’s ring from the bootie, but he wasted no time in taking Angelica by the hand and pulling her to her feet.

  “We’ve been through so much,” he said, his voice clogging with emotion. “But there is so much more ahead of us. I love you, Angelica, and I always have. I think Granny Frances would like it very much if I put this ring on your finger. And I know I would. I want you to be my wife, and I would be honored to call Toby my son. Will you marry me?”

  Only an hour earlier, she’d thought she was leaving Serendipity forever. And now thanks to Granny she would never have to leave it or Rowdy at all. Her heart was so full it was all she could do to nod and allow him to slip Granny’s ring on her finger.

  “Are you sure you’re not just proposing to me for my land?” she teased, her voice cracking with emotion.

  He grinned and shrugged. “A man can light two candles with one flame, can’t he?”

  “Point taken.” She paused and tilted her head, her lips matching his contagious smile. “But only if you promise me that at our wedding, we’ll be lighting one candle with two flames.”

  “And maybe a third one for Toby?”

  She nodded, her eyes once again filling with happy tears.

  “Three candles, one flame,” he whispered as his lips hovered over hers. “That sounds just about perfect to me.”

  * * * * *

  Don’t miss the latest heartwarming stories about

  surprise babies leading to lasting love in

  the COWBOY COUNTRY miniseries:

  THE COWBOY’S SURPRISE BABY

  THE COWBOY’S TWINS

  MISTLETOE DADDY

  THE COWBOY’S BABY BLESSING

  Find these and other great reads at

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  Keep reading for an excerpt from REUNITED WITH THE BULL RIDER by Jill Kemerer.

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>   Dear Reader,

  What fun it is to head back into Serendipity, Texas, and auction off yet another bachelor for the town’s First Annual Bachelors and Baskets Auction benefiting the senior center.

  I took a bit of a detour with this book. Serendipity is a cattle town and, generally, cattle ranchers and sheep farmers don’t mix. But after I read an article about raising sheep, complete with adorable pictures of newborn lambs, I decided Rowdy’s and Angelica’s families would be exceptions to that rule.

  They say art often imitates life. In this case, Angelica’s bird phobia? Yeah, that would be me. Dive-bombing hummingbirds rank right up there as one of my worst nightmares.

  I’m always delighted to hear from you, dear readers, and I love to connect socially. You can find my website at www.debkastnerbooks.com, where I hope you’ll join my mailing list to learn of new projects and special offers. Come join me on Facebook at www.Facebook.com/debkastnerbooks, and you can catch me on Twitter @DebKastner.

  Please know that I pray for each and every one of you daily.

  Love courageously,

  Deb Kastner

  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.

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  Reunited with the Bull Rider

  by Jill Kemerer

  Chapter One

  Tonight was no ordinary night, not for Amy Deerson, at least. She was about to meet the little girl she’d been asked to mentor. When the pastor called yesterday, she’d jumped at the opportunity to spend a few afternoons each week with a neglected child. At four years old, the girl was too young for the church-sponsored mentor program, and the pastor had suggested a private arrangement due to the circumstances. But first, Amy needed to meet the girl’s father. He had the ultimate say in whether she spent time with his daughter or not.

  Taking a deep breath, Amy got out of the car and approached the church’s entrance. It was still chilly for late March in Sweet Dreams, Wyoming, but it wouldn’t be long before wildflowers bloomed. Just thinking about flowers, crafts, tea parties and other things small girls enjoyed put a bounce in her step. Don’t get ahead of yourself. This was the initial meeting. Until the dad agreed, it was not a done deal.

  She’d prayed for so long to make a difference in a kid’s life, and God had answered.

  Amy headed down the staircase to the meeting rooms. The low hum of male voices quickened her pace. What would the girl look like? Would they hit it off right away? And would the dad be cute?

  Cute? Really, Amy? Who cared what the father looked like? A romance would be inappropriate given the situation. And, anyway, she’d been scorched at love twice. She would not put her heart on the line again.

  The hallway walls were filled with pictures of kids doing crafts at previous vacation Bible schools. Excitement spurred her forward. Life was falling into place. Business was booming at her quilt shop, she’d finally gotten up the nerve to submit a portfolio of her fabric designs to several manufacturers and now this! She’d never intended to remain single, but that’s how life had worked out. Helping this little girl would ease the longing in her heart for a child of her own.

  She peeked into the preschool room. Hannah Moore, the pastor’s wife, was standing next to their toddler son, Daniel, and a young girl.

  It’s her!

  Dark blond hair cascaded over the girl’s shoulders. She looked woefully thin under a purple sweater and striped leggings. Amy couldn’t see her face, but she stood stiffly near Daniel, who was pushing a toy dump truck on the colorful ABC area rug. As much as Amy longed to join them, she continued toward the door at the end of the hall where Pastor Moore was waiting with the father.

  Entering the conference room, she greeted the pastor then turned her attention to the man sitting at the end of the table. Her stomach plunged to her toes, the sensation worse than the roller coaster incident in eighth grade.

  No! This can’t be... He can’t be...

  Her knees wobbled to the brink of collapse. Unable to hear a word the pastor was saying, she shook her head, her gaze locked on familiar blue-green eyes. Every instinct screamed for her to run, to get out of there, to make sense of the fact Nash Bolton was in the room.

  Nash. The man she’d loved completely. The one she’d thought she’d marry. The guy who had left town over a decade ago—no goodbye, no explanation. The jerk who had never come back.

  It hit her then... The little girl she’d been asked to unofficially mentor?

  His daughter.

  She was having a nightmare. She’d wake up and be in her bed under her favorite quilt—

  “Thank you for meeting us tonight,” Pastor Moore said.

  It wasn’t a nightmare. And yet it was.

  She blinked a few times and sat in the nearest chair, forcing herself to focus on the pastor’s face. In his early thirties, he had a kind air about him.

  “Sure.” She hoped her lips were curving into what could pass as a smile.

  Pastor Moore gestured to Nash. “Amy Deerson, this is—”

  “We know each other.” Nash’s deep voice was firm, and its familiar timbre unlocked memories she’d thought long gone.

  She dared not look at him. Couldn’t handle whatever she would find in his expression. Regret? Sarcasm? Pity? Didn’t matter—her feelings for him were dead. She’d been over him for a long time—years and years. The shock of seeing him had sent her into a tizzy. That was all. In a few minutes, she’d be fine.

  “Good.” The pastor took a seat opposite her. “I’ve had such a strong feeling about you helping little Ruby.”

  Ruby. The girl’s name was Ruby.

  “Amy has been training for several months to be a mentor. She’s passed her background checks and is willing to devote the extra time you mentioned Ruby needs. And with none of our other trained mentors available to help at this time, well...it seems ideal. With your permission, I’ll tell her about Ruby’s situation. Or would you like to?”

  Nash brought his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. He looked older, his face harsher than she remembered. And he’d filled out. Still wiry, but with more muscles in his arms and chest. Gone was the young cowboy she’d loved. In his place was a chiseled man.

  Their past flashed back. The day they’d met. Their first kiss. His big grin and slicing sense of humor. The future they’d planned. Oh, how her heart had overflowed for him. And then he’d disappeared, leaving her devastated.

  And now he was back. And she—out of all the women in this town—had been asked to spend time with his child when all she’d wanted was to marry him and be the mother of his babies? God, You wouldn’t be this cruel. This is a joke, right?

  “Pastor,” Nash said, “could you give us a moment, please?”

  “Of course.” He stood. “I’ll see how it’s going in the preschool room. Be back in a few minute
s.”

  Amy straightened. She wanted to look away but didn’t. It had been ten years. She’d moved on. And the fact he had a daughter made it quite obvious he had, as well.

  “I didn’t know, Amy. I never would have agreed to come if—”

  “If you’d known I was involved.” She hated how snippy she sounded. And that his full lips and high cheekbones still made her chest flutter. His cropped brown hair gave him a maturity his previous waves had not. The laugh lines around his eyes were a kick in the gut. He’d been carefree, rising to the top of the professional bull riding circuit while she’d nursed a broken heart. And he hadn’t cared one bit.

  He hadn’t loved her.

  He’d loved someone else and had a baby with her.

  “So, she’s your daughter.” She was surprised she wasn’t yelling at him.

  “No.”

  No? What was he talking about?

  “She’s my little sister.”

  “I know that’s not true,” she snapped. “You’re an orphan.”

  “Yeah, about being an orphan.” He shifted his jaw. “Not quite.”

  * * *

  Nash had known moving back to Sweet Dreams was dumber than climbing on the world’s meanest bull while recovering from a broken rib, but he’d done both anyway. The bull hadn’t been nearly as scary as the thought of running into Amy. He’d been in town a mere week and already his worst fear had come true. Except this was even worse than running into her. This was...horrible...beyond bad.

  He’d loved Amy more than anything on earth. That’s why he’d had to leave all those years ago—to protect her.

  But now another female needed his protection. He would give Ruby all the love and normalcy he’d missed out on as a kid, and if it meant living in the same town as Amy, so be it.

  He just hadn’t planned on running into her this soon. In fact, he hadn’t put any thought into what he’d do when he eventually did run into her, which was inevitable in a small town.

  How could he tell her everything that needed to be said in a few minutes? It was hard to concentrate with her big coffee-colored eyes shooting knives his way, not to mention her long dark brown hair tumbling over her shoulders, reminding him of its silkiness. Creamy skin, curvy figure—she looked even better than when he’d left, and she’d been a knockout back then.