Susan Crosby - The Rancher's Surprise Marriage

“Well, now, Margaret, seems to me I got somethin’ special to keep in my memory out of it. I can live with people teasin’ me.”

Tony leaned in to kiss her.

“Could you live with it for a few more months?” she asked before their lips touched.

He pulled back, met her gaze. “Meaning?”

“Last night when I said I knew who you were, that you owned the ranch, you said your ranch owns you. Am I remembering that right?”

“You are.”

Maggie drew a deep breath. “OK. So, then, I have a proposition for you.”

The last one had resulted in their being naked together. If this one involved that again, he’d be saying yes faster than a bronc bursts out of a chute.

“I’m listenin’, darlin’.”

“Marry me.”

Heart of Stone

by Diana Palmer

The Rancher’s Surprise Marriage

by Susan Crosby

Hannah’s Baby

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

Her Texas Lawman

by Stella Bagwell

The Prince’s Royal Dilemma

by Brenda Harlen

The Baby Plan

by Kate Little

SUSAN CROSBY

believes in the value of setting goals, but also in the magic of making wishes, which often do come true–as long as she works hard enough. Along life’s journey she’s done a lot of the usual things–married, had children, attended college a little later than the average co-ed and earned a BA in English. Then she dived off the deep end into a full-time writing career, a wish come true.

Susan enjoys writing about people who take a chance on love, sometimes against all odds. She loves warm, strong heroes and good-hearted, self-reliant heroines, and will always believe in happily ever after.

More can be learned about her at www.susancrosby.com.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For Larry and Peggy Ingham, and Kevin

and Stephanie Kennedy–generous, selfless,

inspired and industrious people who know

what’s important in life and go about achieving

it. I admire you all so much.

Maggie McShane blamed her lifelong weakness for cowboys on John Wayne movie marathons, a New Year’s Day family tradition. Those happy childhood memories pierced Maggie as she watched a cowboy mosey onto her Arizona movie set. He rivaled the Duke in looks, from his thick brown hair and blue eyes to his looming height. She felt caught in his crosshairs, the way his gaze zeroed in on her, and it was everything she could do to turn away from him, and prepare for her next take outside a rustic old barn on a working cattle ranch.

“Take your mark, please, Maggie,” the director said.

“Quiet on the set!”

The take was a different angle of an earlier shot, a sweeping arc that would end on a close-up of her face. Her expression was supposed to convey determination, but also a little insecurity.

“Cut! Let’s do it again. A little more grit this time, Maggie.”

“Right.” Maggie wondered who the cowboy was. Why was he on the set? Who gave him—

“Cut! Where’s your head, Maggie?” the director, Mac Iverson, asked.

Startled, she met his gaze, seeing more than curiosity there. Maggie was always prepared, always on cue. Darn cowboy. “Sorry, Mac.”

“All right. Once more. Action!”

The cowboy stuck his hat back on his head, covering that beautiful hair that curled down his neck a little…

“Cut!” Mac came up to her. “Do you need a break or water or something?”

“It’s the heat,” she said, lying, embarrassed at not being her usual professional self. “This time. I promise.”

After two more takes, Mac said, “Good job, thanks.” Noise and activity picked up again. They were winding down for the day. Only two shots left, neither requiring her presence.

Leesa Post, Maggie’s longtime personal assistant, approached, her ever-present notebook in hand. “Looks like we’re getting out of here early tonight, Mags. What do you want to do about dinner?”

“Room service, but first a long, hot shower. I’ve got dust in every pore.”

“Arizona in September. Pretty dry stuff.”

“I’m learning that.” Maggie lowered her voice. “Who’s the cowboy talking to Mac?”

“I dunno. Want me to find out?”

Did she? He’d already brought back too many memories—and distracted her in other ways, too. Not a good thing. And yet, she wanted to know. “If you can, discreetly.”

Leesa cocked her head and grinned. “You’re an engaged woman.”

Maggie rubbed her left ring finger, but the diamond-and-platinum engagement band Scott Gibson had given her three weeks ago was in her bodyguard’s pocket for safekeeping. “I’m not looking for a date, Leesa. I’m just curious. Mac doesn’t allow many strangers onto his set.”

“Probably a money guy. I’ll be right back.”

Leesa was the queen of efficiency. She’d been an extra on a TV sitcom Maggie had starred in as a child. They’d become fast friends at the age of six, twenty-five years ago. When Maggie had needed a full-time assistant, Leesa jumped on the bandwagon, deciding she hated being on that side of the camera, and wanted a shot at helping take care of Maggie’s skyrocketing career.

“His name is Tony Young. He owns this ranch,” Leesa announced quietly when she returned, holding up her tablet as if taking notes from Maggie.

“Is he as tall as he seems?”

“Ninety-five percent of the world’s adult population can see the top of my head. Everyone is tall to me.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to tell you it’s time to get your roots done.”

“Ha, ha. Mac says you can go—7:00 a.m. call tomorrow. I’ve got your pages, and Dino’s getting the car.”

Maggie would have to walk past Tony Young, ranch owner, the Duke personified, to get to her trailer to change into street clothes. Manners dictated that she stop and introduce herself, but there was something about him, even from this distance, that made her hesitate. Definitely the John Wayne connection, she decided, therefore the emotional link to her parents and their time spent watching old Westerns. Even though they had died a long time ago, the loss was still raw sometimes. It was the reason she’d waited so long to do a Western. She’d thought she was finally ready for it. Maybe she was wrong.

“Hey, Maggie,” one of the cameraman said, coming up to her. “A few of us are headed to the Red Rock Saloon, outside of Sedona. We checked it out a couple of nights ago. Wanna come?”

“Thanks, Pete, but I’m wiped out. Another time, though, okay?”

“You got it.”

She started to head to her trailer, then turned around. “Is it a real cowboy bar?”

“It’s nothin’ fancy, that’s for sure. Got pool tables, though.” He grinned, knowing how much she loved to play the game.