Cathy Mcdavid - Cowboy Dad

He stood. “I won’t endanger your job. I promise.”

She swallowed and tried to convince herself it was what she wanted. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“I won’t, however, promise not to kiss you again.”

Any protest she might have made was thwarted by his fingers caressing her cheek. The next moment, he was gone, walking down the dark road toward the bunkhouse.

Natalie touched her face, which still tingled from his caress.

If Aaron were a man of his word, and she highly suspected he was, she would have to guard herself diligently.

A girl could only resist the man of her dreams for so long.

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Dear Reader,

We hope you already know that Harlequin American Romance publishes heartwarming stories about the comforts of home and the joys of family. To celebrate our 25th year of publishing great books, we’re pleased to present a special miniseries that sings the praises of the home state of six different authors, and shares the many trials and delights of being a parent.

Bear Creek Ranch in Cathy McDavid’s Cowboy Dad was inspired by a real guest ranch visited by the author just outside of Wickenburg, Arizona. Cathy says, “The moment we started down the long winding road leading into the ranch, I felt as if I’d stepped into a storybook.” And so begins this touching story of a widowed cowboy who, much to his surprise, learns to love again.

There are five other books in the series. We hope you didn’t miss Tina Leonard’s Texas Lullaby (June 08) or Smoky Mountain Reunion by Lynnette Kent (July 08). And next month watch for Tanya Michaels’ A Dad for Her Twins. Set in steamy Atlanta, this wonderful story is about second chances, doing what’s right for your kids—and what’s right for you. Watch for other books by authors Margot Early and Laura Marie Altom.

We hope these romantic stories inspire you to celebrate where you live—because any place you raise a child is home.

Wishing you happy reading,

Kathleen Scheibling

Harlequin American Romance

For the past eleven years Cathy McDavid has been juggling a family, a job and writing, and has been doing pretty well at it except for the cooking and housecleaning part. Mother of boy and girl teenaged twins, she manages the near impossible by working every day with her husband of twenty years at their commercial construction company. They survive by not bringing work home and not bringing home to the office. A mutual love of all things Western also helps. Horses and ranch animals have been a part of Cathy’s life since she moved to Arizona as a child and asked her mother for riding lessons. She can hardly remember a time when she couldn’t walk outside and pet a soft, velvety nose (or beak, or snout) whenever the mood struck. You can visit her Web site at www.cathymcdavid.com.

To Paula Eykelhof,

who saw something in that first Harlequin American

proposal and helped launch me

on the career of my dreams, and to

Kathleen Scheibling, a remarkably skilled editor

with an extraordinary eye who has

guided me through four books thus far

and I hope many more to come.

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

Natalie Forrester stood on the sweeping front porch and watched the old truck rumble down the long road, its tires kicking up a cloud of brown dust. The truck pulled a dilapidated horse trailer that rattled and banged as if it might fall apart with each pothole it hit.

As manager of guest services at Bear Creek Ranch, Natalie considered herself quite adept at determining a visitor’s purpose based on the vehicle they drove. This fellow, in his seen-better-days pickup, was either a local from nearby Payson or a cowboy looking for work. Since she didn’t recognize the vehicle, cowboy got her vote. Her hunch grew stronger when the driver continued through the ranch in the direction of the barn and corrals.

Whoever he was, he’d be disappointed when he met Natalie’s father, head of the resort’s guest amenities. Bear Creek Ranch was fully staffed for the upcoming season, scheduled to begin in a mere ten days.

And speaking of the upcoming season, Natalie had a lot of work ahead of her. Break time was over. Her feet, however, refused to heed her brain’s command to turn around and march inside. The weather was unusually warm for February, the afternoon particularly balmy. According to the thermometer hanging by the front door of the main lodge, the temperature hovered in the mid-sixties. Quite nice, even for the southern edge of Arizona’s rim country, which enjoyed considerably milder winters than its northern counterpart.

Natalie leaned her shoulder against a column built from a tree that had been harvested in the nearby woods about the time President John F. Kennedy took office. The wood, once rough and unfinished, had been worn smooth through the decades by thousands of shoulders belonging to the guests of Bear Creek Ranch.

She never tired of the view from the front porch. Majestic pines towered toward wispy clouds floating in a sky so blue no artist could truly capture the vibrant hue. Behind the trees, the nearby Mazatzal Mountains rose, their stair-step peaks covered in snow much of the year. Bear Creek, the ranch’s namesake, could be easily reached by foot from any of the resort’s thirty-three cabins. Clear and clean, the creek teemed with trout and was a favorite with guests wanting to drop a line and test their luck.

Natalie had been born on Bear Creek Ranch, in the same cabin her parents occupied today. Like her younger sister, Sabrina, she’d grown up on the ranch. Unlike Sabrina, Natalie stayed on after reaching adulthood, learning the hospitality business from the ground up.

She wasn’t related to the Tuckers, the family who owned the ranch and had since it was constructed back when the railroad still made a stop at the old Bear Creek Station. But she and her parents were treated like family in many ways, and her loyalty to the Tuckers ran deep.

The front screen door banged open, rousing Natalie from her woolgathering. Alice Gilbert, the ranch’s office manager and Jake Tucker’s personal assistant, popped her head out the door.

“I think Shiloh’s awake.” She wore the expression of a person who had no experience with babies and wasn’t interested in acquiring any.

“Thanks.”

Pushing off the column, Natalie hurried inside. Her shoes clicked softly on the highly polished hardwood floors as she crossed the lobby toward the front desk. Alice had already disappeared into her small office, which was situated right next to Jake Tucker’s larger one.