C.J. Carmichael - Remember Me, Cowboy

How Can He Not Remember Her?

Corb Lambert is ready to marry Laurel Sheridan. She’s pregnant with his baby—and Corb is the type of guy who will do the right thing. He just wishes that he could remember the passion they shared before a terrible accident wiped his memory clean.

Laurel can’t decide whether to go or stay. Corb is willing to take on his responsibility, but Laurel can’t bear the thought that he doesn’t remember her, especially since she fell for him, hard. She’s got a life in New York—but her baby deserves a father. Could he love her all over again? Or is he just staying in Montana to give her child a name? Laurel has to know now, because one person can’t do all the loving....

The door chimed and Laurel glanced up to welcome her next customer

The smile forming on her face froze the minute she saw him.

Corb Lambert.

She’d heard he’d been out of hospital for several weeks now. She’d wondered if maybe he would phone her when he was finally released, and when he hadn’t, she’d told herself she shouldn’t be surprised. He’d been through a lot physically, and had lost a brother besides. He wouldn’t have time or inclination to think about the woman he’d charmed during the week before his accident.

But now he was here, and clearly his smile and the twinkle in his eyes hadn’t been damaged one bit. “Hello, sugar. Looks like Coffee Creek got a whole lot sweeter since the last time I was in town.”

She smiled, thinking he was feeding her the same line on purpose. But when she glanced up at him, she saw no spark of recognition in his eyes. “Corb?”

He looked puzzled. Then he frowned. “Have we met before?”

Dear Reader,

Welcome to Coffee Creek, Montana, the setting of my new series for Harlequin American Romance. You’re about to meet the Lamberts—a family of ranchers and cowboys who own the largest spread in Bitterroot County, all controlled by matriarch Olive Lambert. Olive would like to control more than just the operations of the ranch—she also has ideas about what jobs her children should work and who they should marry. Does mother know best? I’ll let you be the judge.

One of the pleasures of writing a family saga is creating the setting for the stories. In this case I took a real town name—Coffee Creek, Montana—nudged it a little in the southwesterly direction, made it the head of fictional Bitterroot County and decked it out with interesting establishments like the Cinnamon Stick Café and the Lonesome Spur Saloon. There’s a two-story brick courthouse in the center of town, next to the post office and library. If you’d like to see the pictures that inspired the setting and stories, you can visit my storyboards on www.pinterest.comunder CJ_Carmichael.

Once you’ve soaked in the ambience of the setting, please go ahead and meet our first hero and heroine of the series—Corb Lambert and Laurel Sheridan. Their story was so much fun to write. Just imagine you had a whirlwind courtship with a fellow, were sure you had fallen in love, and then he had a head injury and forgot he’d ever met you. What happens next? Just keep reading....

C.J. Carmichael

www.cjcarmichael.com

Remember Me, Cowboy

C.J. Carmichael

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Hard to imagine a more glamorous life than being an accountant, isn’t it? Still, C.J. Carmichael gave up the thrills of income tax forms and double-entry bookkeeping when she sold her first book in 1998. She has now written more than twenty-eight novels for Harlequin, and invites you to learn more about her books, see photos of her hiking exploits and enter her surprise contests at www.cjcarmichael.com.

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Contents

Prologue

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

Epilogue

Excerpt

Prologue

Where was the groom? Laurel checked her watch, not sure whether to feel annoyed or worried. Her best friend Winnie Hays should have been marching down the aisle of the Coffee Creek United Church ten minutes ago.

As young girls, growing up together in a Montana farming community about an hour from Coffee Creek, she and Winnie had planned their wedding days down to the color of the flowers and the flavor of the cake. Actually, Winnie had planned, and Laurel had gone along with her, claiming to want whatever it was that Winnie wanted.

For the longest time their friendship had worked that way. Winnie decided to take swimming lessons, so Laurel did, too. Winnie started dating a boy, so Laurel dated his best friend. After they’d finished high school and Winnie applied to college in Great Falls, no one had been surprised when Laurel decided to study at the University of Great Falls, too.

Only after they’d earned their undergraduate degrees had Laurel finally realized that she yearned for something Winnie didn’t—to leave Montana. So, scared to death but determined, she moved to New York City on her own to pursue her dream of a career in magazine publishing.

To her credit, Winnie never tried to talk her out of her decision. “You have to go for it, Laurel. Or you’ll always wonder what if...”

Good advice. From a good friend.

And now, three years later, on what should have been the happiest day of Winnie’s life, the bride was starting to panic. “I don’t understand. Brock promised he’d be early.”

The ceremony had been scheduled to start at three o’clock. Fifteen minutes to the hour a dark sedan had arrived from Coffee Creek Ranch driven by Brock’s eldest brother, B.J. Dark-haired B.J., with his noble high forehead and chiseled features, had escorted his mother, Olive, into the church.

Olive, still pretty at sixty, her petite figure showcased in an ivory-colored, raw silk suit, had walked proudly on her son’s arm as they made their way to the front pew. Having met her several times now during her week in Coffee Creek, Laurel still found it difficult to believe that this diminutive, soft-spoken woman ran the biggest ranch in all of Bitterroot County.

That arrival had been twenty-five minutes ago. Now the church was packed with invited guests and the organist had just started through her repertoire for the third time.

“This is so not a good sign.” Winnie grabbed bunches of white satin, hitching up her dress so she could stand on a chair for a better view down the street. “Where the hell are they?”

“They” included not only the groom, Brock Lambert, but the middle Lambert son, Corb, who was the best man—and no doubt about that in Laurel’s mind, though she’d only known him a week—and the driver, Jackson Stone.