Brenda Mott - Cowgirl, Say Yes

“You’re her 4-H leader, not her mother,” he added.

“As though I’d want to be, since that would mean being married to you.” Tess wasn’t quite sure where that comment had come from. Actually, she’d love to be Macy’s mom…if only she came without her dad.

Wade looked stunned by her words. “Well, I reckon there’s not much danger of that.” He downed the rest of his beer and set the bottle on the countertop. “I’d throw the bottle away, but I imagine you’d like to recycle it,” he told her sarcastically, thinking of her do-good ways.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, crossing her arms as she got up from the table. “Maybe I’d rather break it over your thick skull.” She flashed him a mock smile.

To her surprise, he laughed. “I do like your spunk, Miss Tess Vega,” he said. He pointed a forefinger. “Just remember. You’re Macy’s 4-H leader, and that’s all.” He tipped his hat. “Night, spitfire.”

“Good night yourself,” she said to his departing back. “Jackass.”

Dear Reader,

I think one of the most common questions asked of an author is, “Where do you get your ideas?” Sometimes that’s easy to answer and sometimes it isn’t. Ideas come from many sources, often simply out of the blue, and at times sparked by an incident, a newspaper article or perhaps a conversation. I like to take my ideas and toss them into a mental slow cooker and let them simmer awhile.

The one for this book was sparked by an Alan Jackson song. When I heard Alan’s sexy voice crooning “WWW Dot Memory,” I knew instantly that I needed to write a book in which the hero is a cowboy who runs some type of Internet business. I tossed it into my slow cooker and let it stew for several months. Imagine my surprise when I opened the lid and discovered the story of Wade Darland (Macy’s dad from Sarah’s Legacy), which had cooked itself up while I wasn’t looking.

When Wade decides that ranching is simply becoming too tough to make a living at these days, combined with the fact that he wants to spend more time with his kids, he comes to the conclusion that he needs to go a little high-tech—well, for a cowboy, anyway—and put up a Web site for his new tack and leather business, “Cowboy Up.” He’s confident he’s got his world under control, his family neatly tucked into a protective circle where no outsiders are allowed—most especially a woman.

Little does he know he’s about to butt heads with Tess Vega, Macy’s new 4-H leader, a vegetarian and rescuer of abused and neglected horses. I had a great deal of fun writing Wade and Tess’s story. Come with me, dear reader, and join Wade and Tess on their journey in search of love and commitment.

Brenda Mott

P.S. I love to hear from my readers. My e-mail address is BrendaMott@hotmail.com. Please reference the book on the subject line.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my own cowboy husband, David—for your loving

support and for putting up with all my critters.

I’d like to thank the following people

for their help in providing information

that went into this book.

D’Ann Linscott-Dunham—

good friend, fellow cowgirl and 4-H leader.

Dr. Mark Flinner.

Brenda Schetnan, R.N., and Mary Jane Hangs, who have

both cared extensively for Alzheimer’s patients. Also,

Katie Lovette, fellow member of Smoky Mountain Romance

Writers and author of Loving Care for Alzheimer’s Patients.

Tom Anderson, who owns the real “Cowboy Up.”

And last, but definitely not least, the folks of

Colorado Horse Rescue and Terri Shell, Kitty and Bucky

of Dream Catcher Farm Horse Sanctuary, for graciously

answering my questions and for the wonderful work they

do. May God bless you for saving our four-legged friends.

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

TESS VEGA OPENED the Mother’s Day card and signed her name at the bottom. Then she reread the note she’d penned moments earlier.

Dear Mama,

Sometimes it helps me to put words down on paper. Words you don’t understand anymore. I hate that Alzheimer’s took you away from me and Dad, Zach and Seth. But even more, I hate that it took you away from yourself. The disease is so unfair. But then, I guess so is any other disease people suffer….

All week, I’ve seen ads on TV for greeting cards with sentimental verses, and for buying just the right Mother’s Day gift. I want to give you a perfect gift, Mama, but material things no longer hold any meaning for you. They really don’t for me, either. All I want is a way to wind back the clock to how it used to be for us. I miss you, Mama. I’ll visit you today and bring you flowers and balloons. You may not recognize me anymore. But sometimes I think you can sense things deep down. If so, you’ll know this: I love you with all my heart.

Tess folded the note in half and reached for the glue. She squeezed a thin line of it around the edges of the paper and sealed the note shut. Then she slipped it in the card and glued that shut, as well. The words she’d written were for her mother only, not for anyone else’s eyes. And while sealing notes that no one would ever read inside a card might seem foolish, it gave Tess some peace.

She’d been writing such notes for years, tucking them away in a greeting card on each and every holiday. Raelene might not be capable of reading them, but she enjoyed holding the cards, and Tess felt great satisfaction at knowing the words that came from her heart were there each time, hidden inside.

Tucking the card into its envelope, Tess rose, then gathered up the balloons and flowers she’d purchased and headed outside to her truck. Birds sang in the quiet surrounding her farmhouse as she slid behind the wheel. She placed the balloons and flowers on the seat beside her. They filled the cab of the pickup with cheer. Tess clung to that cheer as she drove toward town and the County Care Facility.

Determined to make this day the best she possibly could for her mother.

WADE DARLAND STEERED his horse toward Windsong Ranch, worried about his daughter. It wasn’t like Macy to disappear without telling him where she’d be. But then, at the age of ten—almost eleven—she’d taken to doing things her own way of late, behaving like an alien creature. A creature called woman. He sure found it easier to relate to his twelve-year-old son, Jason, though he loved both his kids equally.

Sighing, Wade shook his head. Maybe Bailey would have an idea where Macy was, though even that was doubtful. His daughter hadn’t been hanging out at Bailey’s place as much as she used to, before it became the main location of Windsong Ranch—before Bailey and Trent married and started a family of their own.

The Murdocks were Wade’s closest neighbors in the small mountain community of Ferguson, Colorado, and raised Arabian horses on the eighty-acre farm just two miles from the Darlands’ Circle D ranch. They also owned the adobe-style ranch house that rested on an adjoining three hundred sixty acres—the place Trent had called home before he and Bailey got together. Macy, who no longer had her mother to turn to, had found a friend and mentor in Bailey the moment she’d met her. President of the local bank, Bailey was an animal lover, and Macy had spent a great deal of time the first summer Bailey moved to Ferguson, tagging at her heels, hanging out at her farm.