Wendy Warren - Cowboy Comes Back / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride - Cowboy Comes Back / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride

JEANNIE WATT

WENDY WARREN

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JEANNIE WATT

JEANNIE WATTlives with her husband in an isolated area of northern Nevada, and teaches junior-high science in a town forty miles from her home. She lives off the grid in the heart of ranch country and considers the battery-operated laptop to be one of the greatest inventions ever. When she is not writing, Jeannie likes to paint, sew and feed her menagerie of horses, ponies, dogs and cats. She has degrees in geology and education.

I’ve never met an Ellen I haven’t liked. In fact,

one of the Ellens I like very much mentioned that

Ellens in fiction are always nice friends or neighbors.

Never villains. I decided to employ the rule of opposites

and do something about that.

This book is dedicated to all the nice Ellens in

my life—fellow Superromance author Ellen Hartman,

fellow teacher Ellen Too, and my former high-school

classmate and college roommate, with whom I threw

vanilla wafers at the neighbor’s window,

Ellen Swanson.

Dear Reader,

Imagine what it would be like to have the most important person to you, your soul mate, betray you. This is what happened to Libby Hale when her childhood friend and fiancé, Kade Danning, left her to marry another woman. Libby is not the forgiving kind, so she has no intention of renewing any kind of relationship with Kade when he comes back, divorced and in the process of rebuilding his life, ten years later. Unfortunately for her, kade has other plans.

Libby was first featured in The Cowboy’s Redemption as the hero’s best friend. She was an irreverent, straight talking, no-nonsense woman, and so much fun to write that I knew I had to explore her character further. Thus Cowboy Comes Back was born, a story of second chances—for a man, a woman and a horse.

I love to hear from readers. Please e-mail me at jeanniewrites@gmail.com or visit my website at www. jeanniewatt.com.

Happy reading,

Jeannie Watt

ROUGH OUT JEANS. RIDE with the Best.

Until you screw up, that is.

Kade Danning grimaced as he walked past his own self-assured face smiling from an old advertisement still tacked outside the local feed co-op. Sort of a Kade Danning memorial. Damn, but he’d been cocky back then.

Well, he wasn’t feeling so cocky now. And he wouldn’t be posing for photos or endorsing jeans again anytime in the near future. Nope. He’d screwed up that deal royally.

Only one pickup sat in the parking lot—a fancy, shiny red one with duallies and running lights. So there was a chance the store would be empty soon. Good. He wanted to talk to Zero Benson alone.

Earlier that day, he’d driven the fifty miles from Otto, Nevada, to the larger town of Wesley, where he’d dropped off an application at the personnel office of the Lone Eagle Mine. He’d also put in a general application at the Wesley employment office and then, on the way home, he’d decided to stop at the feed store. Zero would know of any ranch work that might see him through until he was able to find something more permanent.

Zero was standing behind the barn-wood counter when Kade walked into the store, deep in conversation with a man Kade didn’t know—a money guy, from the looks of it. Creased Wranglers, neat white shirt, neat white mustache. His hat alone would pay for the new fridge Kade had a feeling he’d need to buy to replace the monstrosity in his father’s house.

Neither man had noticed his arrival, so Kade hung about at the back of the store, near the racks of halters and bridles, scanning the want ads tacked to the wall while he waited for the conversation to end. Horses for sale. Tractor services. Shoeing. Nothing in the Help Wanted.

“Have you tried his brother?” Zero asked the guy.

“I don’t like his brother,” the man stated adamantly.

“Then I don’t know what—” Kade glanced up when Zero abruptly stopped speaking, and he saw the older man’s mouth gape open. “Well, hell’s bells!” Zero said, lumbering out from behind the counter and sidestepping a pallet of feed bags. “Kade. How are you?”

“Good,” Kade lied. Zero’s face was rounder and more wind-burned than the last time he’d seen him ten years ago, but other than that, his former part-time employer looked the same. He might even have been wearing the same overalls and flannel shirt.

“So are you back or just visiting?” Zero asked, clapping Kade hard on the shoulder.

“I’m working on my dad’s house, getting it ready to sell.”

The man with the white mustache frowned at Kade, obviously trying to place him.

“This is Kade Danning,” Zero explained to the man. “Kade, Joe Barton. Mr. Barton bought the Boggy Flat ranch last year.”

“Zephyr Valley ranch,” Barton corrected him.

Zero made a hoity-toity face. “Like he said. Hey, you want a job?”

Kade’s stomach dropped. Was it that obvious? Had Zero heard things that Kade hoped weren’t common knowledge? The IRS trouble had been much publicized, but he’d tried to keep the fact that he was dead broke to himself. “I, uh …”

“Mr. Barton has some colts to start and he can’t get ‘em in to Will Bishop.”

Joe Barton appeared none too thrilled at Zero’s suggestion. “Zero—”

Kade jumped in to save them both further embarrassment. He’d forgotten Zero’s habit of saying whatever popped into his mind. “Can’t,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m going to be busy working on the place. I want it on the market by the end of June and my daughter’s coming in July, so … sorry.”

And then he beat it out of there. He’d come back later or call to see if Zero had heard of any ranch work—preferably not on the Barton spread, since Barton hadn’t seemed all that impressed with him. But the guy had to be loaded if he’d bought the Boggy Flat. The ranch was huge.

“Don’t you know who that was?” he heard Zero ask as he escaped through the open door.

Was. The word summed up Kade’s life well.

LIBBY HALE CURSED under her breath as she drove by the Danning ranch early Friday morning and saw that the yard lights were on again.

As if she didn’t have enough trouble in her life without Kade showing up.

But she would not let his presence get to her. He wasn’t the reason she was having trouble sleeping.

The road from Otto to Wesley was a straight shot through the desert to the northeast, over one mountain range and then down into the adjoining sage-covered valley. Libby drove it at least four times a week, sometimes five, depending on the length of her workdays. Usually she traveled on autopilot, planning her schedule, but today she focused on the road, refusing to think about anything but her driving.

There was one car in the Bureau of Land Management parking lot when Libby pulled in. Ellen Vargas’s highly polished Lexus SUV. Libby parked at the opposite end of the lot and sat for a moment, staring at her boss’s Lexus and wondering how long it would be before she came to work and the damned thing wouldn’t be there.

It was no secret that Ellen Vargas would move on as soon as she could, following an upwardly mobile career track in government. Libby only hoped Ellen didn’t do too much damage before that happened.