Jeannie Watt - Maddie Inherits a Cowboy

She waited for him to say something. What? What the hell could he say? He didn’t even know what to think right now.

The snow was melting into her hair, dampening it, making it start to curl. And then, when he was about to go back to the house—to a nightmare, no doubt—she said softly, “Have you ever heard of forgiveness, Ty?”

He couldn’t bring himself to answer. He turned and walked away, leaving Madeline alone in the snow.

Dear Reader,

New York professor Madeline Blaine is a woman on a mission. The Nevada ranch she inherited two years ago isn’t making money and she’s determined to discover the reason why. Madeline doesn’t know the first thing about ranching, but she fully intends to educate herself—on site. Ty Hopewell, her inherited ranching partner, has no idea how greatly his life is going to change once by-the-book Madeline arrives at the Lone Summit Ranch.

I love taking characters out of their comfort zones, and when Madeline arrives at the ranch, she not only has to learn about the realities of ranching—she has to learn how to manage without electricity for several hours a day, since the ranch generates its own power. This is a circumstance with which I am familiar, having lived off the grid for sixteen years. There are definite pluses to generating your own power, but there are also a few minuses. Generators, like automobiles, break down at the most inopportune moments. I’ve celebrated every major holiday without power because of generator malfunction—no lights, no water and, on one occasion, no turkey. On the plus side, my kids spent more time playing in the creek than watching television while growing up.

I had a great time writing about Madeline and Ty, and I hope you enjoy reading their story. I love to hear from readers, so please drop me a line at jeanniewrites@gmail.com or visit my website, www.jeanniewatt.com.

Happy reading,

Jeannie Watt

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Jeannie Watt lives off the grid in the heart of Nevada ranching country. She and her husband share their acreage with horses and ponies, a dog, a cat and a wide assortment of wildlife. When she first moved to her off-the-grid locale she knew nothing about generators, but because the ancient propane-powered beast always acted up while her husband was at work, she learned. Before long she could change the oil and swap out points, plug and condenser in less than twenty minutes and was the family generator expert—the one the kids called when the generator sounded “funny.” Now she has a new, more dependable generator, which she has wisely refused to learn about, leaving maintenance and care solely to her husband. So far, so good…but she dreams of solar power.

To my kids,

who grew up with the power going off whenever their parents decided to go to bed.

To Roger,

who would drop everything and come to my mechanical rescue when I got in over my head.

Thank you.

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

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

IT CAME UPON A midnight clear…

As soon as Ty Hopewell heard the familiar voice and recognized the opening bars of the song, he made a conscious effort to focus on his breathing, on the people passing in front of where he sat in the lobby of the Nugget Hotel and Casino. On anything except that song. He hadn’t lived in the boonies for so long that he’d forgotten the day after Thanksgiving was the kickoff of the Christmas season. But he’d forgotten that every public place in Reno seemed to play music.

That glorious song of old…

Ty swallowed and then drew in a breath. He could do this. He could sit here and wait for his appointment. Or he thought he could, until he made the mistake of closing his eyes.

From angels bending near the earth…

Instantly he was lying on the frozen ground, disoriented and in pain. The truck was on its side, the cab caved in, the headlights cutting through the darkness at an angle that was just plain wrong.

The truck’s front wheel slowly spun.

Bing Crosby sang.

For a moment it had been too much to process, and then he’d realized that the radio in the demolished truck was still playing. Somehow. Bing’s rendition of “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” was the only sound in the cold desert night, so out of place in the aftermath of a violent wreck.

And then there had been another sound—his own voice screaming for his friend, demanding that Skip answer him….

Ty opened his eyes and got to his feet. He’d go outside, away from the music, to collect himself. Great plan, but he hadn’t taken more than two steps when he saw her crossing the casino lobby. Madeline Blaine. Skip’s sister.

It had to be her, since the time was exactly ten and she was wearing black slacks, a short red jacket and a black-and-white-checked scarf, exactly as she’d described on the phone the day before. She zeroed in on him, although she had no way of knowing what he looked like, and made a beeline toward him. Ty took off his hat as she approached.

“You must be Mr. Hopewell,” she said briskly, extending her hand before he had a chance to speak. He took it briefly, knowing his own hand was probably ice-cold. It was the first time he’d met any of Skip’s relatives. The funeral had taken place back east, where Skip had grown up.

“Yes. I’m Ty.”

“Madeline.”

He was struck by how little she looked like Skip. Her hair was straight and dark, while Skip’s had been light brown and wavy. Her eyes were green; his had been brown. And Skip had been a big guy. His sister was on the small side, her features delicate. The only similarities he could see were the distinctive high cheekbones and fair skin. Skin that tended to fry under the Nevada sun. Skip had been forever sunburned.

She gestured at the chair where he’d been sitting a few seconds before. Ty obligingly sat and she took the chair kitty-corner to his, so they could face each other. Obviously Ms. Blaine was going to run this meeting. Ty just wanted it to be over. Hell, he wished he knew what it was about—and he wished Bing would shut up already, but the singer geared up for another verse.

Peace on the earth, goodwill to…

Ty ran a finger around the inside of his collar and Madeline Blaine tilted her head as she appraised him, a slight frown drawing her dark eyebrows together. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Fine.” Except for the guilt that was crushing him as Bing sang. Technically, Skip’s death had been an accident, but one that clearly could have been avoided if Ty hadn’t been so damned stubborn.

He’d reached the point after twenty-three months where he didn’t think about it as much—sometimes he could go several oblivious days at a time. But when he did think about Skip’s death, it ate at him.

He looked into Madeline Blaine’s clear green eyes, having no doubt about what had triggered him today. He hadn’t been looking forward to this meeting with Skip’s sister, and Bing hadn’t helped matters.

He cleared his throat. “Ms. Blaine—”

“Dr. Blaine.”

Oh-kay. She was a professor of anthropology at a small university somewhere in New York, but he hadn’t realized he had to use her title. “Dr. Blaine.”