The Cowboy's Secret Baby Page 23

  “Yeah. It is.” And what about you? he wanted to ask. “See? Told you I wasn’t good at this.”

  “Neither am I. After Harry and I divorced, I didn’t want to even think about another relationship. When I met you, I felt so wounded, and then, somehow, we ended up... Well, you know, that day before we were even friends.” Her face had turned an adorable pink. “Why couldn’t I see then that there could be so much more? Even when I didn’t feel the timing was right. Last January you didn’t just move in next door, cowboy.” She blinked. “You moved into my heart. I love you, Dallas, and I’m ready to trust again. In you.”

  “In us,” he said, holding her gaze. “There’ll never be a perfect time for me to settle down, have a family. That time has to be now. I love you,” he said, “so much. I want you to be part of my life, I want to be part of yours, your kids’ lives. And this baby’s.”

  Before she could answer, three wild children charged across the lawn right into the serious discussion Dallas had been about to tie up for Lizzie in a pretty bow. She would really put up with his rodeo career? He wasn’t down on one knee yet, but...

  “Mama! I’m going to marry Emmie’s friend when we grow up!”

  Lizzie smiled, her free hand brushing back his sweaty hair. “That’s a long way off, Seth.”

  Jordan snickered. “Baby, baby, love and marriage...”

  “Jordan, don’t tease your brother.”

  Wearing his ribbon from the steer, or rather calf, riding event, Jordan looked as if he were about to taunt Seth even more, but then, with a glance at Dallas, seemed to think better of it. Obviously worn-out after the exciting day, Seth dropped onto Dallas’s lap and nestled against him as if he’d been doing so all his life. Lizzie was a great mother, and he’d have to rely on her experience, but it was Stella he still wasn’t sure about.

  Lizzie’s little girl stood over him, scowling, which didn’t make her face look any less pretty, and a fresh surge of protectiveness washed through him. He’d have to try especially hard to win her over. But to his astonishment, Stella suddenly plunked down nearby. She studied Dallas for a moment, as if trying to decide if he was a bad guy or a good one.

  “You’re a really cool bull rider,” she finally said.

  “The high mark of approval,” Lizzie murmured.

  In the years to come, Dallas would guide Jordan, who wanted to follow in his footsteps, in rodeo or any other walk of life. Seth too needed a father figure in the house. And so did Stella, whose vulnerability spoke to him. “Let’s do this, then,” he said. He made an all-encompassing gesture at their circle. “You and me. Them,” he added, his heart pounding like a huge drum.

  Lizzie held up one hand like a traffic cop. And laughed, the way she had before. He could listen to that sound forever and he planned to do just that. “We’re going to take this slow, Dallas. We need to get it right.”

  “As slow as you want,” he told her, “as long as you know my mother will be on your case every step of the way. She already hears wedding bells, and so do I.” Dallas leaned over to kiss her, and Jordan predictably groaned at their public display of affection, but no one said a word in protest, even Stella. Dallas thought it couldn’t get any better than this, but he was wrong again.

  Lizzie said, “We’ll manage, Dallas.” Her green eyes looked clear, unclouded, and her dark hair could use a comb right now, but she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, inside and out. “This will be a partnership. I can oversee your parents and work around your demanding schedule on the road until you’re ready to hang up your bull rope. And you can...keep mowing our grass.”

  Did that mean he was expected to move in with her? He’d take that as a yes. But... “That’s not an even trade,” he pointed out.

  She whispered in his ear. “Neither is one baby with my three.” She pulled back to gaze with love at her children. “You do know what you’ve signed on for?”

  Dallas grinned. “I’ll learn,” he said. “What did I do to deserve you?”

  Lizzie didn’t have to answer. She slipped deeper into his embrace, Seth stayed curled in his lap and Jordan leaned against Dallas’s shoulder. Stella sat slightly apart from them, not quite ready to join the group. Still, he felt accepted just as he had years ago when he’d walked into the Maguires’ house for the first time and known he was home. Now, however fast or slow things might happen, he knew he’d made the right decision. They had. Dallas looked forward to sharing the rest of his life with Lizzie, her children and the precious baby they would welcome.

  It was like a thousand blue ribbons, and a gold belt buckle, when the woman he loved looked up into his eyes and said, “Dallas, from now on I think everyone should call me Lizzie. Because that’s who I am now.”

  Dallas kissed her again. Yes, she was.

  But most of all, she was his Lizzie.

  * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Montana Homecoming by Jeannie Watt.

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  Montana Homecoming

  by Jeannie Watt

  CHAPTER ONE

  NEVER GIVE THE opening bid.

  Cassie Callahan gripped her auction paddle, determined to keep it on her lap until the proper moment. She was, after all, the queen of self-control. The embodiment of coolness under fire. As an assistant school district superintendent, she dealt with unpredictable school boards, principals, teachers and students by calmly addressing facts, laying out pros and cons, refusing to budge unless a decent compromise presented itself. And then she became a master negotiator. She loved it—or at least she used to love it. Lately she’d had the nagging feeling that she was putting more into her job than she was getting out of it.

  Burnout, pure and simple, so it made sense that if she had something to occupy her time when she wasn’t on the job, she’d once again feel the thrill of battle as she headed out to work each morning. Thus, the auction paddle.

  “Sold!” the auctioneer bawled as a nice palomino gelding was led out of the auction ring, and Cassie shifted in her seat. Showtime.

  The palomino had sold for a lower price than Cassie had expected, as had the two horses before. Maybe she’d be able to buy McHenry’s Gold for a reasonable price; maybe the people attending the semiannual Gavin, Montana, horse auction didn’t understand the bloodlines the mare represented. Or perhaps they didn’t care.

  Unlikely. McHenry horses were legendary, but that wasn’t why Cassie was bidding. This particular McHenry mare was a daughter of the mare that had seen her through her turbulent teen years. The last daughter. The mother, McHenry’s Rebel, had died the previous year.

  “The next mare up is something of a gem, folks.”

  No. Don’t make her look good. Just start the bidding.

  Cassie clenched her teeth together, then instantly relaxed her jaw. No more of that. She’d promised her dentist.

  The auctioneer continued singing the praises of McHenry’s Gold and Cassie had to fight to not stand up and tell him to just shut up and get on with the bidding.

  Of course, she didn’t, because that was what old Cassie would have done, back before she’d had a couple thousand classes in management and psychology. Back before she realized that direct confrontation didn’t always work.

  “We’ll open the bidding at ten thousand. Do I hear ten? Ten? Ten?”

  Ten? The last horse had opened at three.

  The ring steward led the mare in a circle. She had excellent conformation but wasn’t flashy otherwise. A bay with a broad white blaze and one white hind foot—a carbon copy of her mother, and Cassie wanted her. She practically had to sit on her paddle.

  The auctioneer con
tinued his patter. The guy in front of Cassie leaned forward as if to get a better view of the mare. His paddle hand twitched when the auctioneer lowered the opening bid to five thousand dollars and suddenly Cassie’s paddle was in the air.

  The spotter pointed at her. “I have five,” the auctioneer announced. “Do I hear six? Six?”

  No six. No six.

  “Five and a half? Five and a—I have five and a half.”

  Cassie leaned forward as she searched the crowd on the opposite side of the sale ring to see who had the temerity to bid against her. She couldn’t see who’d bid in the sea of cowboy hats. Well, she’d spot him next time if he dared do it again. She raised her paddle for a bid of six thousand, then narrowed her eyes as she spotted the man who bid six and a half.

  No.

  Really?

  Her dentist would have hated what she did to her teeth when Travis McGuire met her gaze across the distance that separated them, looking very much the smug know-it-all she knew him to be.

  She was in trouble, because when Travis wore that expression, it meant game on. She searched her memory, trying to remember who had won their last confrontation years ago.

  Maybe it had been a draw.

  This one would not be a draw. Or a loss.

  No one appeared interested in bidding higher than six thousand five hundred. The auctioneer worked the crowd, then began intoning, “Seven? Seven? Six and three-quarters... No? Going...going...”

  Cassie thrust her paddle in the air just after the second going. She didn’t look at Travis, because she told herself she was beyond their old rivalry. She’d thought he would be, too. They were never going to be friends, but after so many years, surely they could be civil?

  “I have a bid of six and three-quarters,” the auctioneer announced.

  Cassie could go to seven. That was her limit. But when Travis raised his paddle at seven thousand, she knew that she was going over budget. She wanted that horse.

  “Seven and a half? Anyone? Sev—”

  Up went her paddle.

  “Eight?” He pointed at Travis, who sat motionless, giving Cassie a flicker of hope. “Seven and three quarters?”

  Travis nodded and Cassie’s stomach fell.

  The auctioneer pointed at Cassie. “Eight?”

  She hesitated, then lifted the paddle. After that things became a blur as Travis continued to meet every bid and her blood pressure continued to rise. The seesaw continued until the auctioneer reached ten thousand five hundred. He pointed at Travis, who grimly shook his head. Cassie’s chest swelled. Unless someone had been waiting in the wings for just this moment...

  “Sold to number 325.”

  Only then, when the heat of battle began to ebb, did she fully process what she’d just done. Ten thousand five hundred dollars. Three thousand five hundred more than she’d allotted. She never got carried away like that. Her gaze strayed across the auction ring to where Travis sat with his forearms resting on his thighs, staring at the ground between his boots. She hadn’t seen the man in over five years, and he still had the power to bring out the worst in her.

  But she couldn’t let this horse slip through her fingers. With this mare, she’d have something to focus on other than the job. A way to relieve pressure and maybe relive a little of her past. She and Rebel had spent hours roaming the mountains behind the ranch. She’d made plans, set goals, sometimes discussed guys she liked with the mare, who never made fun of her for wanting to date out of her league. Cassie was the kind who kept both feet on the ground, so it was safer to engage in a soliloquy while riding Rebel than to talk about guys with her younger sister Katie, who’d hero-worshipped her at the time.

  She picked up her purse and eased her way down the aisle of folding chairs. Never in her life had she thought she’d charge a horse on her credit card, but here she was.

  She just had to be careful about one impulsive act leading to another. She’d left that side of herself behind years ago, having found it detrimental to career building, but if anyone could bring it out again, it would be Travis.

  Copyright © 2020 by Jeannie Steinman

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  ISBN-13: 9781488068164

  The Cowboy’s Secret Baby

  Copyright © 2020 by Leigh Riker

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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