Contents
Title Page
Series Guide
Kiss Me Cowboy Summer Box Set
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
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
About Amity
Acknowledgements
Runaway Heart
Amity Lassiter
Copyright © 2014 Amity Lassiter
ISBN: 978-0-9939240-0-2
Editor: Keriann McKenna
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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HEARTS OF THREE RIVERS
THE BAYLORS
Runaway Heart (Dane & Ren)
Homecoming Heart (Noah & Emma)
Secondhand Heart (Finn & Lily)
THE MONTGOMERYS
Secret Heart (Nate & Layla)
HEARTS OF HEROES
A Cowboy SEAL's Bride (Lane & Miranda)
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—ONE—
Dane Baylor felt the thud of dead weight hitting the ground in the soles of his boots before he ever heard the scream.
The bay colt he had been working with skittered sideways several feet in the corral and Dane let an oath out under his breath, angry that the progress he had been making with the horse had just been undone.
"Goddamnit, Gage." He swore as he swung around to find the source of the noise. "What have I told you about scaring—"
His words cut off when he saw his five year old nephew crumpled on the ground near the six foot tall corral fence the boy had just been sitting on. He was holding one arm at an awkward angle and squealing like a kicked dog.
Dane's heart ricocheted off his ribcage as he broke out in a run to the boy. He could see Finn coming out of the heifer barn to see what all the ruckus was about. Dane reached the boy first and propped him up against a post, doing his best to quiet his squalling nephew.
"It's a long way from your heart, Gage, best quit your bellyaching now or you'll run out of breath." His words were gruff with fear, and he winced when he noticed the splinter of bone protruding through the skin. "Goddamnit!" He hissed under his breath.
Finn finally reached the pair, kneeling beside his brother and his nephew. He put a reassuring hand on Gage's shoulder. Narrowing his eyes at his brother, he frowned.
"Why weren't you watching him?"
"I was watching him. He was sitting right here." Dane was mad enough to spit nails—at his brother and his nephew. It had been a perfect day to get the string of colts from Reicher started and now he had to take a trip to the hospital; and not just that, but he was also being accused of negligence. "Christ. I was watching him, but what am I supposed to do, hover over him all day? I have as much work to do as you!"
Dane could tell his younger brother wanted to retaliate, but he clenched his jaw shut, looking pointedly at their nephew sitting between them, then back to Dane. It made Dane's blood boil. Finn could say whatever he wanted about how Dane parented Gage, but at the end of the day, between the three of them, Dane was the only one fit for the job. Noah barely had his life under control again and Finn had good days and bad since Sunny died. It was on his good days that he tended to give Dane the hardest time.
Both men looked in bewilderment at the boy, who was still howling with pain. The neighbors would come running soon if they didn't quiet him or move him. For a fleeting moment, Dane thought about taking up his mother's offer to keep Gage so he could work on the ranch in peace. She'd raised four boys; just one would be a walk in the park, despite how difficult it seemed to be for Dane himself. As it stood now, he felt like he was shooting blind half the time. It would be a hell of a lot easier than this, whatever this clumsy attempt at parenting was, but he had a promise to keep.
With a heavy sigh, Dane helped Gage to his feet and the three Baylor boys hobbled toward the car.
*
"I'm just saying, Dane, you could use some help." Ella Baylor shrugged as she made a fourth pass across the hospital's waiting room floor. "I know I raised you right, but you don't have to be so damn independent."
Dane was sitting doubled over with his elbows propped on his knees in an uncomfortable hospital chair. His hat was on the chair beside him and he was still wearing the same dusty boots and faded jeans from the ranch, feeling entirely out of place in the sterile environment.
They were waiting for Gage to come out of surgery and his nerves were just about shot. Not even his mother's presence was helping. He bounced one leg anxiously. Every single thing about this situation put him on edge.
"I can do it, mama. I promised Gavin."
Ella gave him a pointed look. Even two years later, just the mere mention of his youngest brother's name shot Dane through the heart, it had to be the same for her. Maybe worse.
"Gavin never intended for you to do this all on your own, Dane. We're a family. There's no harm in me or your father coming over for a few hours a day to keep an eye on Gage while you get some work done. That's not admitting defeat. That's being smart."
"You and dad left the ranch to me so you could open the store. You did your time. I'm not going to let you be tied down to it again, whether it's to look after cattle or children."
Dane was fiercely proud of the ranch he inherited when his father had started to have heart problems. He'd grown up working alongside Caine Baylor and it was natural for him to take the reins when his parents retired into town. Finn had stayed behind to help with the work, and Noah, their younger brother, had gone with Caine and Ella to apply his business smarts to their operation. Even so, any one of them would have dropped everything to come to his aid if he only asked; he just didn't think they should have to.
"You don't understand, Dane. I would love to do it. Your father would love it, too. Stop being so stubborn." Ella crossed her arms and Dane nearly laughed aloud.
Everything he had learned about being stubborn, he had learned from his mother. She just called it 'independent'. The running joke in town was that nobody had been able to control Ella growing up and Caine was the only man who wouldn't bother to try, so that was why they had married. Once she got an idea into her head, you either went with it or got bowled over.
Dane looked up at his mother. Age wore well on her. Her once-blond hair had begun to thread with silver long ago and she wore it proudly instead of trying to hide it. Her body was wiry and strong, a testament to years as a rancher's wife, throwing calves and bales of hay alongside the man she loved. He was told he had inherited her eyes—the same color as thunderclouds reflecting on a still lake. She
looked well, but she and his father had earned their retirement through every drop of sweat and sleepless minute tending stock they'd put in.
"If you really think I should have someone keeping Gage, I'll hire someone. You can visit as often as you like, but I won't saddle you with that burden."
"Dane. It's not a bur—''
Dane stood abruptly, quieting her. His mind was made up. Why the thought hadn't occurred to him sooner he didn't know, but now it seemed like the best idea he'd had in a long time.
"You can come over as often as you want, but the hired homemaker will be his official caretaker—that way if you need to go to town or you feel sick, you have no obligation to come over. You raised four boys, mama, and you did a fine job, but you've earned your rest."
Ella conceded with a tired nod of her head. It was probably the only battle with her Dane would win in his entire life, but he'd take the victory.
—TWO—
Homemaker wanted, room & board provided.
Must be good with children.
Call 555-8705
The ad on the wall of the Laundromat was short and sweet. Ever optimistic, Ren Maddock convinced herself that meant the job would be simple. She snatched the paper off the wall without a second thought and stuffed it into her pocket.
"What's that?" Kerri was momentarily disturbed from the music blaring over her headphones when she saw her sister's quick movement.
"A job," Ren replied, but Kerri had already gone back to her music.
She had assured Kerri, when they moved, that there was no worry about money. In fact, that had been one of her bargaining points to talk her sister into being uprooted from yet another school, home, and set of friends. They could live like queens in the sleepy town of Three Rivers. It was all farmers and ranchers, housing would be cheap and plentiful, everything inexpensive and easy.
Kerri still put up an indignant fight but Ren had the final say, as always. She would have loved to be able to set down permanent roots somewhere so her sister could finally adjust and become a useful member of society but she hadn't exactly had a choice this time around. She was hopeful Three Rivers could be a permanent home for them. It was just a matter of what would be more harmful in the long run—letting their past catch up with them or uprooting her continually.
Shaking her thoughts from heading down a decidedly destructive path, Ren opened the triple load dryer that held the majority of the sisters' worldly possessions within and tested the dryness of the clothes. Satisfied, she pulled them out onto a nearby table and began folding methodically.
Of all the different cities they had lived in, one running theme comforted Ren. Laundromats were the same. The harsh lighting, the Formica-topped tables, the smell of detergent and fabric softener. The same tired people who dragged bags and baskets full of their dirty laundry out in public when they had a rare spare moment. It was a certain breed of people that used Laundromats and Ren had it down to such a fine science she could have probably recognized them on the street.
Kerri bobbed her head to music they could both hear reverberating from her mp3 player and began to fold the 'easy' clothes. Towels. Pants. The story of their lives. Ren looked after the messy stuff; folding shirts and underwear, and matching socks together. Kerri glided through, oblivious to the challenges her older sister faced. Ren worked damn hard to keep as much of it off of her sister's shoulders as she could.
"Are we going to look at apartments this afternoon?" Kerri pulled her headphones off and the music became louder, filling the air between them.
Ren looked up, but her hands kept folding. It was comforting, like a second nature to her.
"I want to see about this homemaker job first. It's got room and board provided, so we just might get lucky."
Kerri rolled her eyes.
"I don't want to live with some old lady in a wheelchair, getting that sick baby powder smell all over me and eating prunes for breakfast, Rennie. And I know you don't want to change diapers for a living. Come on. Let's just get an apartment and find you another job."
Ren almost smiled at her sister's protests and reached out to poke her on the arm playfully.
"A job is a job, Ker. We're not in a position to be picky, and if we can kill two birds with this one stone, I guess you'll just have to go to Three Rivers High smelling like an old lady. Why don't you finish up here and I'll go call."
Leaving her sister to facecloths and hand towels, Ren headed for a quiet alcove away from the noise of the washers and dryers and pulled out her cell phone. It was old and she had to twist her mouth just the right way to make it work, but it still made calls and texts just fine and that was the important part. She keyed the number in and a kind feminine voice answered on the second ring.
"Baylor residence."
Ren took a deep breath. She hated talking on the phone, but she put her best voice forward, getting straight to business.
"Hi, my name is Ren Maddock. I'm calling about the homemaking position I saw listed on the bulletin board at the laundromat. I'd love to come by for a chat if the position is still available."
"You're the first call, but why don't you stop by around two?"
Ren scribbled directions to the home and a fax number for her resume on the back of the ad, and thanked the woman for her time without asking any further details. A job was, after all, a job.
—THREE—
"Holy shit!" Kerri exclaimed as Ren turned her ancient GMC Jimmy into the driveway of the address she'd been given earlier. Dirt road would have been a more accurate description, as there was no house in sight, just rolling fields of uncut timothy hay. As they made their way down the bumpy path, a large house came into view, along with two barns, several outbuildings, and rail fences.
The house was impressive; a two story mix of wood and shingle with a stone chimney running up one end. A covered porch stretched the length of the house. A new-looking pickup truck was parked in front, along with an equally pristine-looking car in an identical silver hue. Ren felt acutely self-conscious about her old Jimmy. It had seen better days and she'd said an extra-long prayer to get it across country to Three Rivers, but it had been as vital a presence in her life for the last four years as Kerri had been.
"Well, at least there's a lot of space," Kerri said, rolling down her window to stick her head out and get a better look. An old looking, long haired dog with no tail and floppy ears approached, wiggling his hindquarters with joy at the arrival of the newcomers. Ren slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting him but he had already sashayed out of the way, obviously knowledgeable about vehicles.
"You can say that again." Ren shifted the vehicle into park, took a calming breath, and slipped her sunglasses off. She smoothed her hands over her unruly auburn hair and straightened her modest top, opening the door. "You stay here. I won't be too long, I hope."
Kerri's only response was to turn up the music she'd been playing the entire ride loud enough that the dog cocked his head with curiosity at the tinny sound emitting from the car. He quickly lost interest in the human remaining inside of the car and made his way to Ren, performing the exact same wiggle routine around her feet as he had around the car. She moved carefully to avoid tripping and eventually gave up and stooped to scratch behind the dog's ears. He closed his eyes in pleasure.
She startled a bit when she heard the door to the big house swing open.
"Rex! Come on, leave her alone." The man who just about filled up the door frame patted his thigh and the dog made a grumbling noise, giving her a regretful look before slinking off. Straightening, she sucked in a tight breath as her eyes slid over his body.
He was well over six feet tall with close cropped blond hair. Broad shoulders tapered down into a narrow waist that wore a pair of faded Wranglers slung low. A black t-shirt clung tight to his torso, exemplifying every ridge of muscle on his body. He had a pair of dusty cowboy boots with spurs on his feet. His exposed arms were tanned and well-muscled, his hands had obviously seen a significant day or two of
work, and his eyes reminded her of a storm coming on. Ren would have bet five dollars his name would have shown up next to 'cowboy' in the dictionary. Her mouth went a little bit dry. Yum.
"You must be Ren." He extended his hand before she even made it to the steps of the porch.
"I am." He was most definitely not the person who had answered the phone earlier that morning. Ren finally reached him and took his hand. His grip was firm, confident. He was a man who exuded power in a quiet, unelaborate way.
"Dane Baylor. Come on in."
Ren followed him into the house, appreciatively watching the muscles in his back move under his dark shirt. She couldn't imagine that he needed any care—but she sure wouldn't have minded if he was her charge. First order on the list… sponge bath.
It had been some time since Ren had enjoyed any carnal pleasures. Her first concern for the last four years had been Kerri. Romance, or more specifically in this case, lust, played second fiddle, if it got an opportunity to make a noise at all. Lust would, once again, be shoved into a closet for the sake of other, more important responsibilities, like acquiring and keeping a job.
"So Mr. Baylor, could you tell me a little bit about the position?" Ren settled herself in an offered chair at the butcher block table that dominated most of the open kitchen. It was an older style room, with dark oak cupboards, but surprisingly modern appliances. She wasn't a very sophisticated cook, but she knew her way around the kitchen and could see herself comfortable in this one.
"Please, call me Dane. Coffee?" He offered the pot from the coffeemaker and a blue clay mug. She nodded and he poured, tipping his head toward the sugar and cream on the table. Helping herself, she spooned two sugars into her coffee and ignored the cream.
"Dane, then." Ren smiled at how easily it rolled off her tongue as she stirred her coffee. "What kind of homemaking exactly are you looking for?"
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