This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, AUGUST 2019
Copyright © 2019 Relay Publishing Ltd.
All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Mary Sue Jackson is a pen name created by Relay Publishing for co-authored Romance projects. Relay Publishing works with incredible teams of writers and editors to collaboratively create the very best stories for our readers.
Cover Design by LJ Mayhem Covers
www.relaypub.com
Blurb
Samantha Jenson likes things ordered. She’s managed to carefully plot out her life, creating lists along the way to keep her on track: Leave small town. No more cowboys—especially him. Get educated. Don’t even think about him. Become a professor. So far, she’s put a check in every box but the last.
When her family ranch in Texas goes to her after the death of her father and brother, she’s forced to return home to put things in order and to make sure the property doesn’t get into the hands of her shady cousin. Enter Cole Baker. Tough, hard, distant. Sexy. The kind of guy you’d want standing between you and an attacking bear. Or in your bed. He’s definitely not on Sammie’s to-do list. But when the two of them are thrown together to save the ranch, her list begins to look not quite so important.
No one had ever mistaken Cole for one of the good guys. In and out of trouble his whole life, his one brush with respectability came during the brief time he and Sammie dated in high school. Now, fresh out of the army, he finds himself suddenly navigating the world of single parenthood and is desperate to give his son stability. He needs a job and a place to stay, so when Sammie offers him the role of running the ranch, he swallows his pride and agrees.
All his life he’s let down everyone he loved, so he’ll try to focus on the job, and definitely not think about how beautiful Sammie is, how goddamn cute all her lists are or how good she is with his son. It’ll only end in heartbreak, just like before… right?
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
End of The Rancher’s Second Chance
Thank You!
About Mary Sue Jackson
About Leslie
Sneak Peek: The Cowboy’s Mistake
Also by Mary Sue or Leslie North
One
Toddlers were cute, no doubt about it. But Cole Baker was pretty certain they all had a death wish.
His toddler in particular.
“Devon!” he bellowed, as he chased his laughing two-year-old across the baking hot asphalt. The boy shrieked in glee over the impromptu game of chase and pumped his little legs even faster. How? Cole wondered for what felt like the millionth time this morning. He's barely up to my kneecap—how can he move so fast? “Devon, stop!”
He snatched his son up into his arms a heartbeat before the little boy ran headfirst into the plate glass door. Cole let out a long, slow breath and waited for his heart to leave his throat and return to his chest.
“You have to stay with Daddy,” he murmured in his son's ear. Mostly because it felt like he should say something. Something a good daddy would say.
Of course, Cole had no idea how to actually be a good daddy. This whole parenting thing was still so new. Right now, the only thing he figured he could manage was keeping the kid alive. Which—considering the greatest joy of Devon's little life seemed to be running away from his father in busy parking lots—was proving to be harder than it looked.
The diaper bag—yes, he'd learned his lesson all too well and now carried a diaper bag everywhere he went, masculine pride be damned—had slid from his shoulder during his pursuit. He hefted it back up with a practiced motion and heaved a sigh. “You stay with me,” Cole half ordered, half begged his son.
“Down!” Devon demanded, flinging himself backwards.
Geez, this kid was strong. “No way.” Cole gritted his teeth and glared at the door handle, wondering how to do this. He needed both hands to keep Devon in check.
Where was that third arm when he needed it?
“I've got you!” An older woman entering the bank gave him an indulgent smile and pressed the handicapped button. The door swung open by itself.
Cole sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward. “You've got to be kidding me.” Then remembered himself. “Thank you, ma'am.” He swung his squirming son into a football hold and tried to square his shoulders. He needed to look respectable as he walked into the bank, after all. Not desperate. Not at the end-of-his-rope.
No matter how much he felt like he'd been ridden hard and put away wet, he couldn't let it show.
“Can I help you, sir?” The woman behind the counter of First Regional Bank barely looked old enough to drive. There was no way she would remember him, Cole thought.
But her bland smile of greeting faltered when she saw his face. Cole felt that familiar twist in his belly and once again wondered just what he was doing back here in dusty, old Hope Springs, Texas. How was he supposed to build a future in a place that refused to let go of his past?
He shifted Devon to his other hip and put on his best “aw, shucks” grin. “Hey there, darlin', I need to see somebody about opening an account and maybe getting a little loan?”
The grin worked its usual magic. Her narrowed eyes widened, and she smiled right back. “Sure thing, Mr. Baker. Just have a seat right over there.”
Cole nodded his thanks. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her how she knew him, but he wasn't sure he wanted the answer. His reputation around this town was something he was actively trying to forget. It wouldn't do to remind people of it.
“Down!” Devon squealed again; the novelty of being held like a football had worn off.
“Are you gonna stay with Daddy?”
“Stay with Daddy,” the toddler echoed with grave dignity, staring up at him with sober blue eyes.
Cole blinked and swallowed. His son's face never failed to take his breath away, but moments like this, when he saw his own expressions mirrored back at him, were enough to make the whole world around him disappear. It was a kind of parental tunnel vision, and it always threw him for a loop.
He let the bag drop to the floor in front of the open chairs that lined the lobby then flopped down without even looking around him. Trapping Devon between his legs, he asked, “Want my keys?”
“Keys!” Devon nodded, chubby fingers grasping.
Cole chuckled and leaned to the side to reach into his back pocket. And as he did, his shoulder bumped into something soft. And warm. And sweet-smelling.
Something that hissed
, “Hey! What the hell, Cole?”
His stomach dropped down to his boots when he heard her voice. He didn't need to turn his head to know who he'd sat next to in his absent-minded haze. Even after all these years, his body was still keenly attuned to her presence.
Cole handed his truck keys to his waiting toddler and then forced himself to drag his eyes upward.
“Hey, Sammie,” he mumbled. “Sorry about that.”
Samantha Jensen rubbed her shoulder and gave him a watery smile. Cole's tongue tied itself in knots as he took her in. Same silky blond hair, same cute little turned-up nose, but her gaze was direct now. And her body? Her body was all woman.
After a long pause, she cleared her throat. “Cute kid.”
Cole nodded, trying to cover up the fact that he'd been staring. Sammie Jensen was right here. In the flesh and only inches away from him. How many times had he rehearsed what he'd say if he ever saw her again, the pretty, brainy prom queen who'd broken his heart?
But now that he finally had a chance, the only thing his whirling mind could come up with was, “Never thought I'd see you back in Hope Springs.”
The smooth skin around Sammie's big blue eyes tightened. “Guess I could say the same for you,” she snapped and turned away.
The back of Cole's neck heated. But before he could come up with a devastating retort, the bank manager appeared before him. “Sir? Come on over.”
“Let's go, little dude.” He scooped Devon up with one hand, grateful the keys were still holding his little boy's interest, and the bag with the other, then followed the manager over to his desk. He managed to resist the urge to look back at Sammie.
For about three seconds.
What was she doing here? The answer became clearer when another manager approached her and the two shook hands. So, she was opening some kind of account, too. But why?
For all his bitter memories, there were two things he'd always admired about Sammie Jensen: her brains and her desire to get the hell out of this tiny town. Hope Springs was barely more than a wide spot in the road. What would bring her back here long enough to make her need to talk with the bank?
“Mr. Baker?”
Cole jumped. He turned back to the man behind the desk and tried to look like he'd been paying any attention at all to what he'd said. “Yeah? Sure. Course.”
“Fish?” Devon asked from the floor.
Cole shifted in his seat. “Uh, hang on, bud.”
“You understand what I'm saying, right?” the manager cut in. “The bank considers you a credit risk and—”
“Fish!” Devon demanded, his face reddening.
Swearing under his breath, Cole started searching the diaper bag for Devon's snack cup full of Goldfish crackers.
“Sir!” The manager leaned forward. “I'm saying we can't go through with setting up the line of credit until you can provide proof of stable income.”
“FISH!!” Devon wailed.
“What?” The whole of Cole's focus was on getting the snack cup open before his son went nuclear. “I don't understand. I'm giving you all the money I have right now. There's no stability…” He trailed off, feeling the tips of his ears heating up. Here it was, his worst fear confirmed. How was he supposed to be a good daddy with no bank account? How was he supposed to be a good daddy if he couldn't get this…stupid…cup…OPEN?!
With a frustrated growl, Cole leaped from his chair and slammed a hand on the manager's desk. “Listen up you smarmy, little—”
“Cole?”
At the sound of Sammie's voice, Cole snapped his mouth shut before the rest of his foul-mouthed rant could escape. At the same time, the snack cup lid clicked open. Cole breathed a sigh of relief and knelt to hand it to Devon.
“What?” he grunted at Sammie.
“Can I talk to you?”
Cole looked from Sammie back to the bank manager. There was something in her voice that caught his attention. And even though he hated himself for it, he wondered what she wanted. “Yeah. Sure.” He looked back at the manager again. “Will you excuse us?”
The manager's mouth fell open at being dismissed from his own desk, but after a few minutes spent squirming under Cole's glare, he announced he was taking his lunch break.
Cole smirked, but his smirk fell away when he turned back to Samantha and saw her face. His heart jumped and tugged in his chest, as if it wanted to be closer to her. He leaned in. “You doin' okay, Sammie?”
Sammie's shoulders relaxed. She leaned in, too, mirroring Cole's pose.
And Cole felt it. That connection they'd shared was still there, even after all these years. It hadn't been enough to keep them together—high school tribes were too brutal and closed off for their small-town version of Romeo and Juliet to ever have a happy ending—but it had been what drew them together in the first place. She might have been a stuck up snob back then, but Cole had always loved listening to what she had to say. She made him feel like he was…more.
“I've definitely been better,” she said, glancing down at Devon and smiling again. “What's his name?”
“Devon,” Cole said with a burst of pride. “He makes my life interesting.”
“I bet you do, don't you, Devon?” Sammie cooed. As she bent down, the neckline of her smartly tailored blouse fell open just a little. Just enough for Cole to take in creamy skin and a glimpse of lace.
He swallowed and looked away. Yeah, his body still knew Sammie Jensen, that's for sure.
“So are you…” She glanced at his naked left hand.
“No.” He shook his head. A little flicker of guilt flared in his belly, the way it always did when he thought of Julie. “His mama passed.”
“Oh, I'm so sorry, Cole!” Sammie's slim hand landed on his arm as if by accident. They both froze.
After a beat, she pulled it away, but Cole could still feel the ghost of her touch on his skin. “How are you managing to get by with a kid at home?” She was leaning forward a little too eagerly. Cole got the feeling she was dancing around asking him for something, but for the life of him he couldn't think of anything he had that Samantha Jensen would need.
“I'm managing,” he hedged. “I'm out of the service now, picking up odd jobs here and there—”
“Cole?” She interrupted him with a high, strained voice. “You used to work for your grandparents on their ranch, right?”
“Before your cousin stole it away. Yeah.” Cole wanted to bite his tongue as soon as he said it. It wasn't Sammie's fault her cousin was a heel.
But she seemed too preoccupied to even notice the slight. “Great. Uh. How would you like a job?”
Cole stared at her, open-mouthed. “What?”
“At my ranch.”
“Your…ranch?” The Jensens had owned Bitter Ridge Ranch forever, going back at least to when Hope Springs was founded. But what did she mean it was…hers?
She must have seen the confusion on his face because her eyes gleamed brighter for a moment before she blinked and looked at the ceiling. “Right. It's all mine.”
For a moment, the past hurt bled away, and all Cole could think of was folding her into his arms again. Instead he shoved his hands into his pockets and cleared his throat. “Well shit, Sammie. I'm really sorry to hear that.”
She shook her head as if to clear it. “And I'm no rancher.” She dropped her voice. “You know that probably better than anyone.”
Cole was glad his hands were in his pockets, because now all he could think about was brushing away the tears that were gathering in the corners of her eyes. The way he used to. A long time ago.
She straightened up and visibly pulled herself together. “So, yeah. I need someone. Now.”
“Full time?”
“As much time as possible, I think.” She bit her lip.
Cole couldn't help but press his luck. “And a place to stay too? For me and Devon?”
Sammie's eyes widened, but she nodded quickly. “Sure. Yes. Of course. I have the two bedrooms on the lower level of the mai
n house.” She held out her hand. “So can you help me?”
Cole brushed his hand down the side of his jeans. Yeah, he needed a job. And he needed someplace safer for Devon to live than the hotel at the edge of town.
But working for Sammie? Sammie?
Who'd broken his heart so coldly he could still feel the chill almost a full decade later? Who'd presented him with a bulleted list of pros and cons as part of her breakup speech? It's not personal, she'd told him, pointing. It's just…this column is longer.
Was he really so desperate?
He looked down at Devon, who was happily spreading Goldfish dust across the floor. And then up at the bank manager returning from his brief lunch and not even bothering to hide his contemptuous stare.
He swallowed hard. He needed to be a good dad. He needed to provide for Devon. So yeah, it appeared he really was that desperate.
Cole took a deep breath. And shook Sammie's hand.
Two
For most of her life, Samantha Jensen had been plagued by the same recurring dream. A nightmare, really. The setting changed—in high school it had been about public speaking; in grad school it had been about exams—but the plot never did. As a huge crowd gathered around her, she'd find herself seconds away from having to perform some task she wasn't even remotely prepared to do. She'd look up to their expectant faces and try her hardest to fake it. She'd fumble her way through it, knowing she was doing it all wrong. But as the weight of their disapproval got heavier and heavier, it always ended the same way. “Wait!” Dream Sammie would cry out. “I'm not even supposed to be here!”
The Rancher’s Second Chance Page 1
