Brenda Minton - Single Dad Cowboy

Her Forever Cowboy

Determined to start over, Harmony Cross returns to Dawson, Oklahoma. She needs time and space—not complications. Especially not in the form of the charming Dylan Cooper. But the handsome cowboy is not the man Harmony remembers. Now he’s a single dad with two sweet and vulnerable children to take care of. Harmony never thought she’d see the day—not only is Dylan more kindhearted than she ever imagined, but she’s falling for the last man she ever thought she’d love. Can this unlikely hero give her a perfect forever?

Cooper Creek: Home is where the heart is for this Oklahoma family

“Do all men fall at your feet, Harmony Cross?”

“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you haven’t changed.”

He smiled a little, and she saw the lurking sadness again.

“Oh, I think we’ve both changed.” He swung the back of the trailer open. “And I’m sorry for baiting you that way. Old habits and all.”

“You’re right. Maybe we should call a truce?”

A truce would mean, what? Being friends? The idea felt a little bit dangerous.

“I’m not sure exactly why we need a truce,” Dylan said as he stepped up into the trailer and reached for the horse’s tail. “Come on, Beau, head on out of there.”

Dylan closed the back of the trailer and then the gate. “You understand you can’t ride him.”

“You understand that I’m very aware of what I can and can’t do.”

“Why are you so defensive?” he countered.

“Because I’m here to get away from people who feel I need to be told at every turn what I can and can’t do.”

“So what you’re saying is, you’ve had all of the advice you can handle for a lifetime?” He smiled. “I guess we have more in common than you’d like to admit.”

BRENDA MINTON

started creating stories to entertain herself during hour-long rides on the school bus. In high school she wrote romance novels to entertain her friends. The dream grew and so did her aspirations to become an author. She started with notebooks, handwritten manuscripts and characters who refused to go away until their stories were told. Eventually she put away the pen and paper and got down to business with the computer. The journey took a few years, with some encouragement and rejection along the way—as well as a lot of stubbornness on her part. In 2006 her dream to write for Love Inspired Books came true. Brenda lives in the rural Ozarks with her husband, three kids and an abundance of cats and dogs. She enjoys a chaotic life that she wouldn’t trade for anything—except, on occasion, a beach house in Texas. You can stop by and visit at her website, www.brendaminton.net.

Single Dad Cowboy

Brenda Minton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

When you pass through the waters,

I will be with you; and when you pass through

the rivers, they will not sweep over you.

When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.

—Isaiah 43:2

To Hannah.

And to the readers of Cooper Creek, for the emails, the encouragement and prayers along the way.

I hope you enjoy Dylan’s story.

A big “thank you” to my editor Melissa Endlich

for her wisdom and patience.

Contents

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

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Extract

Chapter One

The farmer stood his ground, his jeans loose, his button-down shirt frayed, with one button missing. Harmony Cross didn’t back down, though. She couldn’t back down. She also couldn’t explain why the horse in his corral mattered so much to her. But the skinny Appaloosa, black with a smattering of white on its rump, mattered. Possibly more than anything had ever mattered in her whole life.

She needed this horse. She needed something to pour her heart into, something that would love her in return and maybe, just maybe, help her find a way back to the person she used to be.

“I don’t know why you think I’m not taking care of that animal.” The old farmer, with a gray grizzled beard and sunken, hazy brown eyes, scratched his chin, as if he really didn’t get it. “I just rode him in the rodeo last night.”

“No, you didn’t,” Harmony countered, nearly smiling, yet not. “I’ll give you double what the animal is worth.”

“I’m not selling that horse. He’s a national champion.”

Harmony glanced at the skin-and-bones animal. “No, he isn’t. I’ve been driving by here for a week, and every day that horse is reaching across the fence trying to get one blade of grass. He’s starving.”

He pointed a finger at her that trembled. “I don’t care if you are Gibson Cross’s kid. You aren’t going to talk to me that way, missy.”

So, he knew who she was. Even though she’d tried to keep a low profile since she showed up in Dawson, Oklahoma, a week ago there would always be talk. There would always be people wanting to help. There would always be people who thought they knew where her life had gone wrong and what she needed to do to get back on track.

She’d come here looking for a place to hide, to get her life together because no one knew how much she hurt inside. The physical pain was nothing compared to the heartache of losing her best friend, the guilt that plagued her daily, and the nightmares.

At twenty-six, finding herself didn’t come easy.

At twenty-six, she had a list. Not a bucket list, but a list for moving forward. First, stay clean. Second, be physically whole again. Third, find a place to be herself, without everyone trying to help. Fourth, stay clean. And fifth—somehow come to terms with the fact that Amy would never call her again.

The horse had been an impulsive thing; it didn’t really fit into her plans. Each time she drove by the farm, she saw the animal. And each time her heart got a little more involved. This time she’d stopped. She looked from the horse to Mr. Tanner.

“Look, the horse is just in that corral doing nothing but grazing rocks and dirt.” She softened her voice to one of sympathy. Because she did feel bad for the farmer who lived in the tiny square of a house, the front porch sagging on one end. He looked as hungry as his horse. Selling the animal to her could mean money he didn’t have, maybe buying groceries he needed. So why was he being so stubborn? She wanted to ask, but knew the question would set him off again.

“I know what that horse is doing. He’s waiting for my grandson to come home to work with him. I’m not selling.”

“Maybe your grandson has outgrown the animal. It happens. They start looking at girls, driving cars, and horses lose their importance.” It had happened to her. She tried not to let the memories slide back into her mind, memories of losing herself. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost the horse-crazy girl who loved to run barrels, build a bonfire and sing in church. The girl who knew herself.

That girl had lost herself in a life far from Dawson.

The old man, Mr. Tanner, shook his head and moisture filled the hazy brown eyes. “Get out of here.”

“Mr. Tanner, I just want...”

He moved toward her, taking a quick step, grabbing her arm with a hand that shook. “Get back in that shiny car of yours and go. The horse isn’t for sale.”

Time for a new tactic. “Then I won’t buy him. I’ll take him to my place and feed him. Your grandson can come and see him if he decides he likes horses again.”