Nicole Foster - Cimarron Rose

She didn’t know whether it was from nerves or from a growing sense of annoyance with the arrogance radiating from the man.

He made his way to her in a few long-legged strides, offering her a curt nod of his head and a cool handshake in welcome. “I’m Case Durham. I own the St. Martin. We’ve corresponded several times.”

Katlyn nodded in reply. This close to him, she could see he wasn’t as dark as the shadows had painted him, with the exception of his expression. His hair was more the color of polished oak, his eyes a deep, mesmerizing green, sharp and hard as gemstones.

As hard as Case Durham seemed to be.

“An endearing tale…the characters shine.”

—Rendezvous

“…a classic romance…any reader devoted to this genre will love this book.”

—Romance Communications

“Jake’s Angel will charm you from the first page and hold you until the last…you won’t be able to put it down.”

—The Road to Romance

CIMARRON ROSE

Harlequin Historical #560

#559 THE OVERLORD’S BRIDE

Margaret Moore

#561 THE NANNY

Judith Stacy

#562 TAMING THE DUKE

Jackie Manning

Cimarron Rose

Nicole Foster

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

Jake’s Angel #522

Cimarron Rose #560

To Nicole and Foster, kindred spirits like their mothers.

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

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

Cimarron, New Mexico territory, 1875

A gust of wind rattled the window of the small room, its cool draft sliding inside to brush against Katlyn McLain’s neck. She shivered, drawing her thin woolen shawl a little more tightly around her as she bent over the bed to look again at the woman lying there.

In the wavering lamplight, stripped of her glitter and paint, Penelope Rose seemed small and faded. Katlyn touched her mother’s face, then tucked the blanket more snugly around her. Even without the doctor’s grim news, she had known her mother was ill. Her pale thinness, the dullness of her penny-bright hair, the droop of her shoulders all betrayed Penelope’s sparkling facade.

Katlyn dropped back down onto the wooden chair she’d pulled close to the bed, feeling a little pale herself.

She hadn’t slept since she’d arrived hours ago in Cimarron, cold, wet, aching, and half carrying Penelope, with nothing between them but the clothes on their backs.

A tap at the door brought Katlyn to her feet again. Before she could move to answer it, the owner of the boardinghouse, Mrs. Donaldson, pushed open the door and came inside. She put the tray she carried on the dresser top and then looked sternly at Katlyn.

That expression made Katlyn want to laugh. A thin little sparrow of a woman, Elspeth Donaldson appeared meek—until she spoke and a rich Scottish burr rolled out. “Now, lass, I’ve brought you some tea, and a wee bit of that stew I had left from supper. You won’t be doin’ your ma any good by starvin’ yourself.”

“Thank you,” Katlyn said, smiling a little at Mrs. Donaldson’s fussing. “I am hungry. But I—”

“I won’t be hearin’ any more about you payin’ me,” Mrs. Donaldson said, giving Katlyn one of her daunting stares. “You just eat that. I know you’re hungry, walkin’ all that way after such a terrible experience. You’re a brave lass, and there’s no one can say different.”

Katlyn wanted to say she felt anything but brave. But she only smiled her thanks and went to pick up the steaming cup of tea.

“A nice sleep will do your ma good, you’ll see,” Mrs. Donaldson added, eyeing Penelope with a shrewdness that made Katlyn feel the other woman knew everything about her mother. “She might feel differently about stayin’ though. I don’t suppose she thought it would be like this.”

No, of course she didn’t, Katlyn silently agreed as she shut the door behind Mrs. Donaldson.

Her mother should never have come here. Penelope belonged back on the Mississippi riverboats, where she was flattered and pampered, not in the New Mexico high country.

But Penelope had insisted on coming to Cimarron to sing at the St. Martin Hotel. And when her mother made up her mind, no one could convince her otherwise.

Katlyn hadn’t believed her when Penelope said she needed a rest, a change of scenery to revive herself. Then, when she’d added that it would be lovely, being so near her only daughter, Katlyn knew something was very wrong.

Nothing would have caused her mother to leave St. Louis except failure.

Now Katlyn worried she would also fail. Fail her mother when she most needed her.

The doctor made it clear Penelope couldn’t be moved, perhaps for several weeks, and then only to a hospital that offered a special treatment for her condition. Expensive treatment Katlyn had no idea how she would afford.

The trip here had been cursed from the start. First, by storms. The stage sat mired in mud after the sheeting rains, vulnerable to the three outlaws who had robbed the passengers, leaving them stranded miles from Cimarron. The long walk into town across the rugged terrain had caused Penelope’s collapse. Katlyn felt lucky they had at least been able to find shelter at one of the town’s two boardinghouses, knowing her mother would rather have died than have been carried into the St. Martin, sick and bedraggled.

“Honey, you look fierce enough to scare away a ghost.” Penelope smiled when Katlyn, startled out of her dark thoughts, jumped out of her chair to her mother’s side.

“How are you feeling? Is there something I can get you?”

“Yes, Katie, my dear, you can stop looking at me as if the undertaker is waiting outside the door.”

Katlyn breathed deep. “Mama…”

“Oh, please—” Penelope waved a limp, shaky hand at her daughter. “Don’t go repeating all those dreadful things that doctor tried to tell me. I’ve told you, I just need a little rest. A few weeks and I’ll be ready to sing again.”

“You’re going to be in bed a few weeks, at least. And then…then we’re going to Las Vegas. It’s west of here, in the territory. There’s a hospital there and—”

“And I will not go anywhere! I can’t lose this job, Katie. I can’t.” Penelope’s voice dropped, and she looked away from Katlyn.

But not in time for Katlyn to miss the sheen of tears in her mother’s lovely eyes. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she said softly, taking Penelope’s hand. “I know how much you wanted this job. But the doctor says you need to be at that hospital.”