Ruth Dale - The Wrangler's Woman

“Why not?” Jack demanded, kissing the dimples at the base of her spine.

She jumped as if shot. “Stop that!” She batted him behind her back without turning around.

Smoothing his palms over her hips, he let out a gusty sigh. “This could be habit-forming.”

“Listen!” Leaping up, she kept her back to him while she pulled on her clothes. “What just happened was a huge mistake. The truth is, I have no intention of getting serious about any man until I’m at least thirty.”

“Who said anything about getting serious?” Frowning, he sat up. “That doesn’t mean I intend to stop living, though.” A significant glance at the bed conveyed exactly what he meant by “living.”

“Whatever,” she snapped. “I intend to forget this ever happened. I suggest you do the same.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” he said, tracing the line of her jaw with his finger. And then he added what was obviously intended as a challenge. “I don’t think you’ll forget it so easily, either.”

Dear Reader,

There are lots of ways to start over. My favorite is to tack a sign on your door declaring that you’ve “Gone to Texas,” and then just take off.

Really. During the frontier days, that’s exactly what discouraged Southerners and Yankees alike used to do when they flat gave up. Maybe they were dodging creditors or the law, but often they just wanted a fresh start. Whatever their reasons, they’d hang that sign, often abbreviated to G.T.T. and go.

Which is exactly what the Keene triplets do when they receive an unexpected inheritance: a dude ranch in the Lone Star state. Saying goodbye to Montana, Dani, Toni and Niki pack up and travel south with their beloved grandma. No pioneers ever had higher hopes of building new and better lives.

Only wise old Grandma dreams that new life will include so much love and laughter.

Welcome to Hard Knox, Texas, where the men are handsome, the horses are fast and the women are smart enough to appreciate both—eventually. The Wrangler’s Woman is the story of the “smart” sister, but we’ve still got the “nice” sister and the “pretty” sister to go! Look for Almost a Cowboy in April and The Cowgirl’s Man in May.

So welcome to the Bar-K Dude Ranch, folks. Y’all come back, hear?

Ruth Jean Dale

The Wrangler’s Woman

Ruth Jean Dale

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to everyone who’s ever wanted to pull up stakes and start over. Nothing ventured, nothing gained!

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Epilogue

ALL THE INTERESTING STUFF happened at the Elk Tooth Community Center.

The picturesque log structure at the edge of the little Montana town served as the site for parties and wedding receptions, political meetings and club gatherings, summer youth programs and holiday galas.

Tilly Collins, aka Mrs. Santa Claus each December for as long as anyone could remember, had seen them all during the past fifty years. But she’d never seen anything quite like the outpouring of woe on this particular occasion. And understandably so: a town as small as Elk Tooth could hardly enjoy saying goodbye to three of the most eligible women in the entire state of Montana—not to mention their always-ready-with-a-cookie-and-a-smile grandmother.

“Care for a cup of punch, Tilly?”

Mason Kilgore, the middle-aged photographer who also served as part-time manager of the local chamber of commerce, handed over a small paper cup. Tilly took it with a smile of thanks.

Mason shook his gray head in apparent disbelief. Sitting on the folding chair next to hers, he said mournfully, “I sure do hate to see you and the girls leave. I go out of town for two weeks and look what happens.”

“Surprised us, too,” Tilly admitted with a chuckle. “We had no idea what happened to the triplets’ no-account pa after he deserted them and their mother all those years ago. This inheritance came out of the clear blue sky.”

Mason grimaced. “I can’t hardly blame them for wanting to claim a deluxe-type dude ranch, but in Texas?”

“Even in Texas.” She nodded for emphasis. “It’s the only decent thing Wil Keene ever did for his girls.”

“When are you folks leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning. We’ve sent what we need ahead. Me ’n’ the girls will drive down pulling a horse trailer.” Now it was Tilly’s turn to make a face. “Dani wouldn’t go anywhere without that horse of hers.”

“Don’t blame her. That Appaloosa is worth a lot of money and she’s smart enough to know that.”

Tilly sought out Danielle across the crowded room. Oldest of the twenty-five-year-old Keene triplets, Dani was universally acknowledged to be “the smart one” of the bunch: the sister with the quick wit, the sharp tongue and the overdeveloped work ethic.

Dani stood near the punch bowl, deep in conversation with the middle-aged owner of the ranch where she’d worked for the past several years. Her brown eyes gleamed with intelligence as she nodded in understanding. Cute as a button, she wore the local costume—denim and boots—and she’d let wavy hair the color of chocolate fall free to the middle of her back.

Dani Keene was as pretty as she was smart, and her proud grandmother wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“How’s Toni taking it?” Mason inquired. “I know she’s been going with that Barnes boy, but don’t know if it’s serious.”

“Not on her part, anyway.” Tilly knew, but didn’t say, that Antonia had been looking for a way to let Tim Barnes down easy. She was known around this part of Montana as “the nice one” among the triplets, and this proved the point; she was too nice to hurt Tim’s feelings with the truth. She’d had no romantic interest in him from day one, because he wasn’t a cowboy.

Standing near the door, Toni give Tim Barnes an encouraging pat on the arm, her dark eyes distressed. There was a sweetness about Toni that everyone seemed to see at once, even before they noticed how attractive she was with her curly, light brown hair and pert figure.

Tilly glanced at the glum man beside her. “I guess the one you really hate to see go is Niki,” she announced, not guessing at all.

“We’ll never see her like in this town again,” Mason said sadly. “Our loss is Texas’s gain.”

Tilly understood his cheerless state. Niki had worked for Mason for five years, both in his photography studio and at the chamber of commerce office. Known as “the pretty one,” she’d won the Miss Elk Tooth contest three years running and she’d never even entered; Mason had entered for her. She’d probably still be Miss Elk Tooth today but she’d refused the title the fourth time it was offered.

Spotting Niki was easy, even in this crowd; she was always surrounded by men. Taller than her sisters, she wore her thick hair long and straight, cascading in a heavy fall all the way to her waist—and it was black instead of brown like theirs. She was the only one who’d got Wil Keene’s blue eyes instead of their mother’s brown ones, and where she’d got those cheekbones and long legs was anybody’s guess.

Bottom line: Nicole Keene was the most drop-dead-gorgeous woman anyone in Elk Tooth had ever seen, and probably the most modest to boot.

Mason stood up, his knees creaking. “Guess there’s nothing to be done,” he said. “I better go see if the wife is ready to go home. Good luck in Texas, Tilly.”