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Her Unforgettable Cowboy
Debra Clopton


A New BeginningEveryone in Dew Drop, Texas, is thrilled that Jolie Sheridan has returned to Sunrise Ranch. Everyone except Morgan McDermott. Eight years ago, Jolie left the ranch–and Morgan–for a career as a competitive kayaker. Now after an accident has sidelined her, she's back as a teacher for the ranch's foster boys.Morgan knows he can't risk getting his heart broken again. But watching Jolie's gentle ways with the boys opens his eyes to the truth. He's never stopped loving her. Can a "family" of foster kids help give this couple a second chance at love? Cowboys of Sunrise Ranch: These men have hearts as big as Texas.







A New Beginning

Everyone in Dew Drop, Texas, is thrilled that Jolie Sheridan has returned to Sunrise Ranch. Everyone except Morgan McDermott. Eight years ago, Jolie left the ranch—and Morgan—for a career as a competitive kayaker. Now after an accident has sidelined her, she’s back as a teacher for the ranch’s foster boys. Morgan knows he can’t risk getting his heart broken again. But watching Jolie’s gentle ways with the boys opens his eyes to the truth: he’s never stopped loving her. Can a “family” of foster kids help give this couple a second chance at love?


“I didn’t come here to fight. I’ve been watching ever since the calf wrestling, and I think you’re helping Sammy,” Morgan admitted.

Jolie blinked. Had she heard him right?

“I came to tell you that I’ll do whatever I need to do to help you help him,” Morgan continued. His amazing blue eyes softened—he was actually conceding.

“G-good,” Jolie stammered. As she looked at him, she thought about trying to apologize again, telling him that she hadn’t meant to hurt him. But she knew he would only deny that she’d hurt him in the first place. “That’s the way it should be. Our past, what happened between us—”

“Is the past,” he said, firmly.

“Yes. We should still be able to help these boys even though we once had feelings for each other and it didn’t work out.”

What else could she say? She’d just come up against one wall after the other with him; he’d made it clear there was no sense in rehashing old history that he had no desire to revisit. So she stopped trying.

For now.


DEBRA CLOPTON

First published in 2005, Debra Clopton is an award-winning multipublished novelist who has won a Booksellers Best Award, an Inspirational Readers’ Choice Award, a Golden Quill, a Cataromance Reviewers’ Choice Award, RT Book Reviews Book of the Year and Harlequin.com’s Readers’ Choice Award. She was also a 2004 finalist in the prestigious RWA Golden Heart, a triple finalist in the American Christian Fiction Writers Carol Award and most recently a finalist in the 2011 Gayle Wilson Award for Excellence.

Married for twenty-two blessed years to her high school sweetheart, Debra was widowed in 2003. Happily, in 2008, a couple of friends played matchmaker and set her up on a blind date. Instantly hitting it off, they were married in 2010. They live in the country with her husband’s two high-school-age sons. Debra has two adult sons, a lovely daughter-in-law and a beautiful granddaughter—life is good! Her greatest awards are her family and spending time with them. You can reach Debra at P.O. Box 1125, Madisonville, TX 77864 or at debraclopton.com (http://debraclopton.com).


Her Unforgettable Cowboy

Debra Clopton






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


I will not leave you as orphans—I will come for you.

—John 14:18


In memory of Ms. Jo,

Grandma Edith and Grandma Sylvia.

Thinking of each of you makes me smile.

Special thanks goes to Carolyn and Joyce for the research trip to The Purple Cow—what a fun day we had. I think you’ll see the research paid off well.

Also a big thank-you to my editor, Melissa Endlich—

your insights and encouragement

in this new venture were spot on.


Contents

Chapter One (#u1e714a75-4844-57cf-a3bb-f91da59a9114)

Chapter Two (#uc761ed1e-e5d5-57ce-8c81-f3df6386c92a)

Chapter Three (#u7a60254a-e55a-5709-af8c-5e842bff077a)

Chapter Four (#u24eb29c0-160f-59ce-9910-2c7686265670)

Chapter Five (#ue2e3f304-4f84-5fe4-89ec-0dc2d2f7b62c)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One

Sunrise Ranch, Dew Drop, Texas

“Calm down, son.”

Morgan McDermott’s father, Randolph, cut Morgan off at the pass with a rasp of exasperation—which in no way, shape or form even began to match the anger-fueled exasperation Morgan was struggling to contain.

An imposing figure at fifty-two, Randolph had hair as black as the Texas oil pumping from the herd of wells across the ten-thousand-acre McDermott family ranch. The only differences between the two men—who shared chiseled high cheekbones and square-jawed features—was the whisper of white at Randolph’s temples and twenty years. Randolph was as physically fit and hard-headed as any of his three sons.

“Calm down?” Morgan gave a harsh laugh. “Are you kidding me? You go behind my back and hire my ex-fiancée, and you expect me to calm down? For starters, Dad, we’re partners. I’m supposed to make decisions like this with you. Second...”

Morgan was so shaken up by what he’d just been told that he lost his train of thought.

Jolie Sheridan, here.

Randolph pushed back from his desk and rose, meeting Morgan eye to eye. “You know as well as I do that we needed a teacher and we needed one quick. Jolie has graciously agreed to fill the position for one semester—”

“I don’t care if she’s paying you to let her teach the boys here at the ranch—I don’t want her here.” Morgan would never use this tone with his father under normal circumstances. But being blindsided by the knowledge that his dad had gone behind his back and hired the woman who had broken his heart was not normal circumstances. “We’re supposed to discuss this kind of thing, Dad.”

“I understand your feelings, but there was no time. Besides, Jolie is familiar with the school and will fit right in.”

Logically it made sense, but that didn’t ease the betrayal. Morgan remained silent, trying to grasp the reality of his situation.

“Your past is something I’d hoped you’d overcome by now. I hated that you got hurt when she left. We all did. That said, I’ve made a decision and it stands.”

Morgan rammed a hand through his hair. “How do you expect me to—” He halted at the stern look his dad shot him.

“I expect you to act like a man, not a brokenhearted teenager nursing a grudge.”

His dad’s words stung. “I got over her a long time ago and you know it,” he growled, not remembering the last time—if ever—that he’d been this angry with his father.

“Did you?” Randolph studied him, unflinching, from across the wide oak desk.

“You know I did. That doesn’t mean I want to be around her for the next four months.”

“You’re strong. You’ll make it. Maybe God worked the details out so you can come to some kind of peace with the situation. You may have gotten over Jolie, but you haven’t forgiven her. You can’t have peace until you do that.”

This was a no-win situation. Yanking a noose tight around his emotions Morgan snatched his hat from the hat rack. “I’m late,” he said, turning to leave. He pushed open the door of the Sunrise Ranch offices, his father’s words trailing him.

“Mind your manners, Morgan McDermott. And remember, those boys out there are watching every move you make and learning from you.”

“Some partnership,” Morgan growled as the blazing Texas heat hit him full force. It didn’t begin to compare to the sizzling heat of his fury.

His life had just turned into a train wreck.

Ramming his hat onto his head, Morgan battled to get a grip on his anger. Stalking across fifty yards of white-rock gravel separating the barns from the office and chow hall, he fought to rein in his emotions. He had a herd of boys enjoying a very special moment in the barn and he intended to be a part of it come baseball-size hail or high water. And he knew—without his dad reminding him—that they didn’t need to see him furious.

Sunrise Ranch was a working cattle ranch and foster home for boys who needed stability in their lives. Morgan took his job as their protector and role model extremely seriously. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t still be on the ranch in the first place.

Despite the heat or Morgan’s mood, excitement rang in the early-morning air hanging over the ranch compound. Quickening his stride, Morgan approached the sun-faded red stable, the birthplace of hundreds of foals over the years. The sturdy, low-slung building had been on the property since Morgan’s great-great-grandfather built it back in the early 1900s. Through the years there had been new barns and buildings added, but this lovingly maintained stable and the other historic buildings that dotted the property carried the memories of those who’d been here before him. This was their legacy to him and his two brothers, Rowdy and Tucker. His family took to heart the responsibility of passing it on to future generations.

Morgan hauled in a deep breath the moment he stepped through the stable’s double doors. Instantly the scent of grassy, sundried hay and feed mingled with the smell of leather and horses, filled his lungs. And his spirit.

The stables held lots of memories from years gone by, but it was the hushed whispers of the boys at the end of the building that filled his soul and gave his life purpose.

Before his mother’s death when he was eleven years old, Lydia McDermott had had a vision to share the beauty and blessing of their West Texas ranch with less fortunate boys who had no place to call home. She’d died before she could make her dream a reality, but Morgan’s dad and grandmother worked tirelessly over the next two years, getting the ranch approved as a foster home.

For the last eighteen years, sixteen boys at a time had made Sunrise Ranch their home. And Morgan, who had become a full partner six months ago, intended to help carry the torch forward—no matter who his dad brought on as the boys’ teacher.

Moving down the concrete alley, the clink of his spurs and scuff of his boots bounced off the stalls. The chatter halted from the huddle at the end where a new colt had just been born, and the boys who were new to the ranch turned, awe on their faces. There was nothing like watching the miracle of life.

Yup, that was the only reminder Morgan needed that the boys came first.

Striding to stand behind them, Morgan patted one of the newcomers on the back and looked at the foal.

“It’s about time you dragged yourself out here to take a look at the new little filly,” Walter Pepper, his horse foreman, teased from inside the stall where he’d been assisting the mother. One of the best horsemen around, Pepper—as he’d been tagged in his early years—had worked at the ranch since he was a teenager, hired on by Morgan’s granddad forty-five years ago. A stocky cowboy with a white head of hair, a gruff voice and a heart of gold, he loved to tease.

Taking in the coal-black filly curled up in the soft hay beside his momma, Morgan gave a crooked smile. “Looks like y’all’ve got it under control.”

“She’s as black as your hair, Morgan,” nine-year-old Caleb declared, his green eyes shining. A blond-headed creative thinker and doer, Caleb was a regular fixer-upper, always coming up with ideas and taking tools and machines apart in the shop to figure out how they worked. But right now, he was wide-eyed like the rest of them, watching the mother horse tend to her newborn baby.

“Yeah,” B.J. said, a grin lifting the seven-year-old’s plump cheeks. “She ain’t got no streak a white in her black hair like Beauty or Mr. Randolph gots.” He puffed out his chest, proud that he was the first to make the comparison between the jet-black horse with the white lightning bolt crossing her face, and Randolph and his white temples.

“You’re right about that, son,” Morgan agreed, tousling B.J.’s brown hair as he studied Beauty. She was the first of twenty-five mares on the ranch who were due to foal in the next two months and she was kicking off the season like a pro. When the baby unbuckled her long legs and tried to stand, Beauty began nudging her gently on the rump, encouraging her as she struggled to gain her wobbly legs.

“Look, fellas, she’s helping her baby get up,” Joseph observed, extending a lean, muscular arm from where he hung halfway over the rail. The oldest boy on the ranch at eighteen, Joseph was long, lanky and a good-natured encourager of the younger boys. He had his heart set on being a large-animal vet and Morgan knew he would make a great one someday.

“It’s ’cause she loves her,” ten-year-old Sammy whispered reverently, a whole host of wistfulness in his words that cut into Morgan’s heart. Sammy had been at the ranch for only two weeks and was struggling. The kid’s parents had given him up recently and before he could blink twice he found himself at Sunrise Ranch. The foster care worker had known the ranch had one opening and wasted no time getting Randolph and Morgan to accept Sammy into the mix. But Morgan could tell the poor kid was still grieving and in denial about what had happened to him.

Pepper’s compassionate old eyes met Morgan’s. These boys knew what it was to have a mother and a father who didn’t care. Over the years Morgan had had many boys come to talk to him about how seeing a horse taking such tender care of her baby stabbed at their hearts on a raw level.

The first group of boys came to live at the ranch when Morgan was thirteen. They’d lost their parents, and because Morgan had just lost his mom to cancer two years earlier, he thought he understood what they were going through. It wasn’t until he was a high school senior that he finally realized he didn’t know where these boys were coming from at all. His mother had loved him with all of her heart. Death had forced her to leave her children—she never would have neglected or abandoned them.

It wasn’t until six years ago when his fiancée gave back her engagement ring and chose a life without him that he felt some semblance of what these guys felt. It was a hard lick to know you weren’t wanted.

For a moment, he went back to that day, standing in the drive, his heart in the dirt at his feet, watching Jolie Sheridan drive off into the wide blue yonder. He was over it—had been for some time now—but it had been a long, hard crawl out of the pit he’d fallen into. He’d made some mistakes on the way and fueled plenty of gossip in Dew Drop. But he’d lived.

He’d moved on.

He’d always known his life and dreams were here on the ranch, and even though things hadn’t turned out exactly like he’d envisioned them, he’d managed to take hold of what God had entrusted to him and he was content.

Even happy most of the time.

At last the filly got her legs beneath her and managed to take her first wobbly steps, bringing Morgan back to the stable.

“She did it!” Jeb yelled. His nine-year-old enthusiasm startled the filly—she jumped and fell flat on her face.

Horrified, Jeb clamped his hand to the top of his head as the boys around him scowled. In the sudden silence the filly gathered herself up and this time rose more easily, with just a single nudge from her momma. Jeb gave a big silent grin. The excitement the boys were containing over the filly’s accomplishment could very easily have blown the roof off the building.

There was a lot to be learned from what they’d just witnessed. Getting up from a fall was a life lesson well worth paying attention to.

“Okay, boys,” Pepper said, coming out of the stall, “let’s give mother and baby some alone time. You fellas can come back this evening after you get your chores done. You just have to promise to be quiet.”

“Will do,” agreed Wes, a stocky seventeen-year-old with curly blond hair and a cocky attitude. The boys looked up to Wes and Joseph, and the two teens took their leadership roles seriously. Morgan liked that about them.

By the time they were leaving the stable, rowdy laughter and joking had ensued. Morgan followed the group, somewhat calmer than he’d been on entering but still not pleased. His dad had deliberately made the decision about Jolie without him because he knew there was no way Morgan would have agreed to it. But Morgan’s anger wasn’t just based on personal grounds—in his estimation the last thing the fellas needed was another teacher who wouldn’t stick around. And Jolie was exactly that.

As fate would have it, Morgan and the boys walked into the sunlight as Jolie herself whipped her cranberry-colored Jeep into the ranch yard, sliding to a halt across the driveway from them in a plume of dust. The doors and top were off the Jeep, giving them a clear view of her, with wind-tossed cinnamon hair.

Morgan’s gut twisted in a knot and he came up short as if he’d slammed face-first into a flag pole. He had a clear shot of her. Rocks lodged in his throat. She was beautiful.

She had the boys’ attention instantly, looking vibrant and full of life, every inch the world-class competitive kayaker that she was, long legs and tanned skin in well-worn jeans and a sleeveless orange tank top. She jumped from the vehicle with a big Julia Roberts smile on her face—and a hundred watts of pure joy slammed into the group.

It felt more like a sucker punch to Morgan.

“Who is that?” Joseph whistled as long strides brought her closer. There was no mistaking his admiration of Jolie. The kid was seventeen after all.

Wes elbowed Joseph out of the way. “Hubba, hubba, come to papa,” he said. Morgan bopped him on the back of the head.

“Watch your manners, hotshot,” he warned. “Both of you,” he added as Joseph glanced at him, too.

“I didn’t mean any harm,” Wes said, his blue eyes dreamy. “I’m just in lovvve.”

Joseph put his hand on his heart and patted it, then gave his full attention back to Jolie.

“She sure is pretty,” Caleb gushed as she came nearer.

True on all counts—Morgan could not deny it. Jolie still had the ability to take his breath away.

“What’s up, fellas? How’s it going?” She greeted the guys like she’d just seen them yesterday and knew them by name. Looking like a bright beam of sunlight, she seemed to sparkle. She hadn’t looked at Morgan yet, focusing all her attention on the sixteen totally engrossed fellas whose lower lips were now sitting firmly on their boot tips.

“You fellas must be my new class. I’m Jolie Sheridan, your teacher.”

“You are?” Sammy cooed. The rest of them had suddenly become speechless.

“You bet I am.” Jolie chuckled. “I’m excited to start school.” Those luminescent green eyes met Morgan’s for the first time and he was fairly certain he looked as grim as he felt because her smile faltered.

“We don’t have to start today, do we?” Sammy blurted. Jolie gave them another sucker-punch grin as she put her focus back on the boys.

“Don’t worry, little dude, school’s not till Monday. You have freedom today and tomorrow...and then you’re all mine, all mine,” she sang the last words and ended with a wink. “I’m just getting the classroom fixed up today.”

The woman had skills when it came to winning over a crowd. Of course she’d had this fickle group at her first hello.

“I’d be glad to help you,” Joseph offered, finally finding his voice.

Wes Grinned. “Count me in.” His chest was so puffed out Morgan feared the teen would throw his back out of whack.

Their eagerness had Morgan rethinking some things...like maybe it was time to offer Joseph and Wes some guidance on relationships, and what was acceptable around a girl. Not that the boys were around girls very much because they went to school on the ranch. Still, there were local girls at church and around town. Morgan made a mental note.

Jolie’s eyes widened at their offer. “I would love some help if you fellas want to. Only if Morgan doesn’t have plans for you, though.”

Every eye turned toward him.

“You don’t, do you?” Joseph vocalized their question.

He wanted to say that yes, in fact, he sure did. He wanted nothing more than to tell the kids they had other things that required their attention besides Miss Jolie Sheridan. But any cowboy worth his salt knew when he was caught.

The right thing to do—the courteous thing to do—was help out the new teacher and offer assistance.

Him included.

If it had been any other person, he wouldn’t have even hesitated.

“Nope,” he heard himself saying. “No plans that can’t wait. Helping Miss Sheridan get settled would be the gentlemanly thing to do, so we’ll do that first and then we’ll go build the fence.”

“I don’t want to disrupt any plans you’ve already made,” she insisted.

The guys erupted like squawking geese, assuring her it was no problem. No problem at all.

Morgan suddenly wanted to take the boys and get as far away from Jolie as possible. But instead, he said, “Like the guys are telling you, it’s not a problem. We can build the fence Monday after school if we don’t get it done this afternoon.”

She smiled at him and it hit him in the gut like a two-by-four. He was in for a beating while she was around, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“Well, okay. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, his breath jamming in his throat.

She hesitated, her eyes locking on his for a second before turning back to the boys. Only then could Morgan breathe.

“If that’s the case then follow me, good men that you are,” she directed with a laugh. “Let’s go see what adventures await us.”

Waving to the fellas to follow her, she headed for the three-room schoolhouse. The boys trotted behind her looking like a litter of puppies with their tongues hanging out.

Morgan watched them go. “Just call me Jolie,” he heard her telling them, her voice drifting to him over the distance, like a long-forgotten song.

“I heard she was back.” Pepper came out of the stable to stand beside him. “Your grandmother told me she stopped by the kitchen yesterday and said hello. She said they had a real nice visit. Said she was worried about you, though. Me, too. I figure from that scowl on your face you just found out this morning.”

So even his grandmother knew.

“How many others knew about this?” he asked, not even trying to hide his anger.

“Don’t get me to lying. I just happened to see her coming out of your dad’s office yesterday when you and the boys were off working cattle with Rowdy. I asked your grandmother about it.”

Morgan shook his head, watching Jolie in the distance. His stomach rolled like he’d just been thrown from a rough bronc. What had he been thinking when he’d offered to help?

Staring from beneath bushy eyebrows with concern, Pepper clapped Morgan on the back. “You hold your ground, Morg. Dig your boots into that gravel and don’t budge. I helped scrape your heart up off the sidewalk once, and I ain’t lookin’ forward to doing it again in this lifetime.”

Morgan shot him a firm look. “You don’t have to worry about me. I learned my lesson a long time ago. I’m just looking out for the boys today.”

“Good. I haven’t ever disagreed with your dad about much, but this time I have to admit that I did. He should have never let that girl come back. It just ain’t right, accident or no accident.”

Morgan knew about the accident. His grandmother had told him how Jolie had nearly drowned in competition on a river. It hit him hard then and still did now, even if he had gotten over his feelings for her the day she’d given him back his ring.

Tugging his hat down low, he gave Pepper a nod and headed off toward the school. Might as well get this over with.

Despite the anger that still lived inside him, his pulse picked up speed as he started after Jolie. And his boots followed suit, not dragging anywhere near as much as he thought they should, considering he was going to help the woman who’d left him high and dry with his heart—and his engagement ring—in his hand.


Chapter Two

Did I make the right choice coming home to the ranch?

Jolie’s emotions had been tumbling around inside her like clothes in a dryer since the moment she’d spotted Morgan standing beside the stables. The cowboy had always turned her world upside down with his midnight-black hair and deep blue eyes. Six feet of lean Texas cowboy with an extra inch added on for good measure—like the guy needed any extra help.

He’d been thirteen when she moved to the ranch with her parents. Immediately she’d thought he hung the moon. He’d probably thought she was a ten-year-old pest but was too kind to let her know it, unlike his brother Rowdy. Instead he’d endured her childish adoration with a patience that she’d tested on a regular basis.

How could she not have fallen in love with the guy?

“Where should this go?” Joseph asked, looking at her desk.

“I think I’d like it over there by that wall.” Jolie pointed to the opposite side of the room from where the heavy oak desk was sitting now. She smiled, determined not to let the rush of the past and the uncertainty of the present distract her from getting her classroom set up.

She was impressed with the way the boys were willing to help. And startled and a bit shaken by the fact that Morgan had offered his help, too. Especially because he’d not hidden the fact that he was unhappy about her being here—his eyes had told the tale. She’d hoped time had healed old wounds, but even if it hadn’t, she’d had to come home to the ranch.

Needed to come home.

Needed desperately to find the person she’d been, the person she’d lost somewhere in the depths of West Virginia’s Gauley River.

She had loved Sunrise Ranch from the moment she’d moved here when her folks had been hired as house parents for one of the two foster homes on the ranch. It had been a wonderful place to grow up. And she was praying it would now be a place where she could heal and find the funny, take-the-world-by-the-horns girl she’d lost beneath the dark water of the Gauley.

The girl she was faking right now for these boys.

Coming up out of that water, her world shaken to its very core, the one thing she’d known upon gasping that first lifesaving breath was it was time to face her past....

Time to apologize to Morgan McDermott.

As if God was in agreement, this opportunity dropped in her lap and here she was.

“Is this where you want it...Jolie?” Joseph asked.

She’d told them right off to call her Jolie. She was just too laid back for anything else, even if she was their teacher. Besides, the ranch was home to the boys. Informality made it all the more true.

“Perfect,” she said to the earnest young man.

“You got it, then.” Joseph grabbed the edge of the monstrous desk and she was pretty sure he was about to try and move it himself. Not to be outdone, Wes was eyeing the floor-to-ceiling bookcases with determination.

“Hold off over there, Wes,” Morgan demanded, coming in the front door and taking charge. Jolie’s insides jangled as his presence filled the large room.

So much hung between them. She’d hoped to talk to him yesterday when she’d arrived, but he’d been working cattle at the far edge of the ranch. And so here they were in a room full of bright-eyed students, unable to talk about the fact that today had been their first meeting since she’d given him back his engagement ring.

“We’ll get the desk moved first and then the bookshelves, Wes,” Morgan said as he grabbed the other side of her desk.

“Thanks.” Joseph grinned at Morgan. “We’re putting it over there.” He nodded his brown head toward the windows.

With Morgan’s strength, the two were able to move the mammoth desk with ease. Once that was done they attacked the ten-foot-tall bookshelves. It ended up taking Morgan and most of the boys to move them.

Everyone’s eagerness touched Jolie’s heart.

She was smiling so much that she was almost able to ignore the fact that being around Morgan was causing her some heavy-duty stress—she could suddenly feel his presence like a weight.

“Where’s our desks gonna sit, Jolie?”

Jolie looked down into the big, brown eyes of a wisp of a boy. “Sammy, right?” she asked, and he nodded. Sammy seemed like a nervous little fella. Uncertain of himself.

“We’ll need to turn them all to face my desk. That way the light from the windows will stream across your desks. I love light and want y’all to enjoy it while you work.”

“Can my desk be this one?” His words were as timid as the light touch he laid on the desk closest to hers, almost as if he were certain she would say no.

“Sure. It’s got Sammy written all over it. Matter of fact, everyone can pick their desk.”

Unsmiling, Sammy nodded and slipped into the wooden seat. “Only till my dad comes and gets me,” he added in a quiet voice barely audible over the noise of the chaos breaking out behind him as the other boys began slamming into desks two at a time.

Jolie hardly even glanced at what was happening around her as her heart latched on to Sammy, who was so clearly suffering. “Sure,” she assured him. “You can have that desk as long as you’re here.”

She wasn’t sure what else to say. There were times when kids were on the ranch short-term. But most boys were here for the long haul—Sunrise Ranch had always been geared toward boys who had been totally abandoned by their families. The ranch became their home; the people, their family.

The poor kid got a wistful look on his face, then patted the desk next to him. “You can have this desk, Joseph,” he called to Joseph—obviously Sammy’s hero—as Joseph watched the rodeo going on over who got which desk.

“I’m too big to sit on the front row.” Joseph brushed his brown bangs out of his eyes. “One of the shorter kids can sit there, and I’ll sit in the back so I can make sure all you goofballs behave. Hey, goofballs!” he yelled, drawing all eyes in his direction. “One of you to a desk.”

“Yeah,” Wes barked loudly, crossing his arms and stepping up beside Joseph. “What kind of animals are y’all anyway?”

It looked as if Wes and Joseph had decided they were going to make certain the boys behaved for her. Jolie hid a grin—and then her gaze met Morgan’s. Morgan’s eyebrow hitched upward, his dark denim eyes cool.

He has no confidence in me, she suddenly thought. Jolie was fairly certain Morgan would think she needed help in that department—if, that is, he even remembered how she’d let her class get out of control on her first day of student teaching. It had been a long time ago, and he might have easily forgotten the laugh they’d shared over the little boys letting the mice out of their cage and the hysterics that had ensued. Meeting his sardonic gaze, she hiked a brow of her own. “It’ll be okay, guys. They’re just excited. We’re going to be fine,” she said to Wes and Joseph, assuring all of them, as well as herself.

“Can you ride a horse?” Sammy asked, drawing her attention. She was grateful for the change of subject.

“Yes, I can. Can you?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Never been on one.”

“He helped us work cattle yesterday, though.” Morgan stepped up beside the boy, giving him a smile that sent an arrow straight to Jolie’s heart. Morgan McDermott had a soft spot for these boys.

He placed a hand on Sammy’s shoulder. “You did good, Sammy.”

“It was scary. I almost got trampled, too.” Sammy’s eyes were huge.

“Aw, come on, kid, it wasn’t that bad,” Joseph called from the back of the room where he was trying out his new desk. “If you stick with us, you’ll learn not to be scared.”

Sammy didn’t look too sure about that.

“I ride,” yelped Tony, a skinny kid around fifteen or so who looked like a young Elvis Presley with his swath of black hair, blue eyes and a crooked smile that made his eyes twinkle. He skidded to a halt in front of Jolie.

This led each boy to reveal he could ride. Jolie caught the flicker of fear in Sammy’s expression as he realized he was the only one who couldn’t ride. She glanced at Morgan to find his guarded eyes staring back at her.

“We’re gonna learn to mug steers tomorrow after church,” Caleb said, his freckles crinkling with his smile. “You can come, too, Jolie.”

Sammy slipped his hand into hers and looked up. “Would you come?”

Jolie melted right there in the middle of the room. Turned right into a pool of liquid. “Sure I will,” she said. She was pretty sure she would have jumped from an airplane if he’d asked her. “I love to calf wrestle, and scramble, too. But muggin’ is my favorite! I used to be one of the best here on the ranch, you know.”

“Seriously?” Joseph jerked to his feet, gaping at her from across the room. He and Wes exchanged disbelieving looks. “You can take down a steer?”

Jolie nearly shook her head. Males.

“Hey, y’all look like you don’t think I can do it!” she teased.

“We just aren’t used to girls—I mean, women—wantin’ to do something like that,” Wes drawled, glancing at Joseph and Tony.

Jolie smiled at the cocky, young cowboys, with their worn jeans tucked into their rugged boots and their T-shirts with the arms cut out of them. It was obvious that they’d been working that morning, most likely hauling hay, an ongoing job she remembered quite well growing up on the ranch. A picture of Morgan in that same getup at that age raced through her head and she glanced his way. He looked about as happy as a grizzly bear that had been awakened in the middle of a really good nap.

“I’m a little insulted here! Girls do this sort of thing all the time.” She laughed when they all swallowed and looked a bit meek. “You’ll find for the most part that I look at life with a bring-it-on attitude.” She looked directly at Morgan before shifting back to the boys. “I haven’t done it in a long time, but it sounds too fun to pass up. I’ll be there.” She looked at Mr. Grizzly Bear again. “May I speak to you outside?”

“Sure,” he growled, swiveling toward the back door. “You boys don’t tear anything up while we’re gone.”

Jolie thought Morgan was teasing even though he seemed far from a teasing mood. Surely he wasn’t thinking the boys were going to destroy all the work they’d just put in. But then again, there was the incident with the desks.

Looking back over her shoulder, she was struck by the group. The picture they made reminded her of an old John Wayne movie, The Cowboys, about a bunch of ragtag boys who’d needed a gruff old cowboy to teach them life lessons. Although Morgan was far from an old cowboy, it was plain to see that these boys respected and admired him. And needed him.

Smiling at them, she winked. “If y’all want to finish turning the desks and lining them up, that would be great.”

They all chorused, “Yes, ma’am.”

Smiling at their politeness, she followed Mr. Grizzly outside and then passed him, leading him out of earshot of the class. There was a large, gnarled oak tree still bent over as it had been all those years ago. She didn’t stop until she reached it, turning his way only after they were beneath the wide expanse of limbs.

Morgan crossed his arms and studied the tree. “I remember having to climb up this tree and talk you down after you scrambled up to the top and froze.”

She hadn’t expected him to bring up old memories—it caught her off guard. “I remember how mad you were at having to rescue the silly little new girl.” Mad? Actually, furious was more accurate.

A hint of a smile teased his lips, fraying Jolie’s nerves at the edges. It had been a long, long time since she’d seen that smile.

“I got used to it, though,” he said, his voice warming.

She laughed, encouraged by his teasing. “You had no other choice! I guess if you hadn’t rescued me I’d never have made it to my teen years.” But she was grateful to Morgan for more than that. She’d grown into a teenager who could handle almost any situation, a girl confident in her own skin. She hadn’t been afraid to try anything because she’d been so crazy adventurous—and free to learn from her mistakes, thanks to Morgan and his brothers, Rowdy and Tucker, who had always been there to help her through. She’d idolized them, but at the same time, wanted them to stop babying her.

Morgan especially.

Of course it was Morgan who’d made her the angriest, and Morgan whom she’d fallen for. Their relationship had never been an easy one. The push and pull of attraction had started when she’d demanded independence, and then changed when she’d found herself desperate for his approval. But it became something incredibly complicated when she’d realized she wanted his love.

And then the pull of competitive kayaking entered the equation when Morgan introduced her to it on a lazy summer afternoon and things grew more complicated. She’d been fifteen, and her instant infatuation with the sport had been too much to ignore. For a young woman who craved the adventure world-class competition offered, Sunrise Ranch suddenly seemed...small. When Morgan made it clear that he had no desire to leave the ranch, Jolie decided she had no choice but to walk away.

Looking at him now, she was overcome by the memory of the internal war she’d lived through when she’d made the decision to leave.

It had been six years, but it felt like twenty.

They were standing beneath the shade of the old oak tree, electricity humming between them. When the smile left Morgan’s eyes, Jolie sucked in a wobbly breath, forcing herself to focus on the job she’d been hired to do. “I’m curious about Sammy. Has he been here long?”

“Just a couple of weeks. He’s our newest rancher. He’s still having trouble emotionally, after his abandonment. It’s a tough situation.”

“He seems fearful.”

“He is, poor kid. He knows his dad has been gone from the picture for a long time. But his mother gave him up to the state and now he thinks his dad will find out and come for him. He’ll stretch the truth from here to Alaska, so you might want to tread lightly with everything he says until you give it a reality check.”

“He lies?” she asked, a little more frankly than she’d intended. But she needed to know the truth if she was going to help him.

Morgan grimaced. “Kinda. More like the boy who cried wolf.”

“The stories don’t ever seem to change, do they, Morgan? I just can’t imagine how these boys handle their families not wanting them. Or not caring enough to make loving homes for them.”

She’d been around kids like Sammy all the time growing up. Some handled the situation with anger, some with denial, but it was all about fear. She understood that on a personal level—three times this week she’d awakened in the middle of the night because of nightmares. She pushed the thoughts away, praying she was up for this job.

“Sammy’s a good example of how bad these kids have been hurt. They need people around them who will care for them and stick with them.” The hardness of Morgan’s tone matched the accusation in his eyes. “What are you doing here, Jolie? Why aren’t you taming rapids in some far-off place?”

“I...I’m—” She stumbled over her words, tongue-tied by his question. “I’m taking a leave from competition for a little while. I had a bad run in Virginia and I— It was bad.” She couldn’t bring herself to say that she’d almost died, that she was lucky to be standing there. “Anyway, your dad was kind enough to offer me this opportunity.”

“I heard about the accident and I’m real sorry about that, Jolie. I really am. I wish you a speedy recovery so you can get back out there doing what you love. But why come here after all this time? We dropped off your radar a long time ago.”

“This is my home. It has never been off my radar.” Jolie saw anger in Morgan’s eyes. Well, he had a right to it, and more than a right to point it straight at her. She’d just thought she was prepared for it.

She was wrong.

“Morgan,” Jolie said, almost as a whisper. “I’d hoped we could forget the past and move forward.”

Heart pounding, she reached across the space between them and placed her hand on his arm. It was just a touch, but the feeling of connecting with Morgan McDermott again after so much time rocked her straight to the core and suddenly she wasn’t so sure coming home had been the right thing to do, after all.

A jolt from a live wire couldn’t have burned Morgan more than the touch of Jolie’s hand. Shock waves coursed through him with a vengeance, his mouth went dry. There had been a time when he’d have done anything for her touch. He gulped hard and hardened his heart against a walk down memory lane.

He wasn’t some kid anymore, holding his heart in his hands. He was a thirty-two-year-old adult male with a good brain between his ears. Or at least he’d thought he had a good brain.

“I did forget the past. A long time ago,” he assured her, his skin burning where her hand still lay. He wondered if she felt the way his pulse had started galloping at her touch. They stared at each other as seconds slipped by.

“Yes, of course you would have,” Jolie said at last, her hand squeezing his arm slightly before it slipped away. “But I was hoping there would be no hard feelings.”

His jaw jerked in reflex.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said. “It really wasn’t personal.”

“You broke our engagement, then headed off in search of better things. I think I had a right to take that personal.”

“That is not fair.”

Morgan was suddenly not at all comfortable with where this was heading.

“I wasn’t searching for better,” she said. “I couldn’t stay. You know I would have regretted it for the rest of my life.”

“Well,” he drawled icily, “that makes me feel a whole heap better.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes shadowing. “Morgan, I’m so sorry for the way it ended that day. I’m sorry for letting us go so far. I never meant to hurt you. I never should have accepted the ring in the first place knowing my heart was torn.”

“On that we agree.” At least she hadn’t waited until the night before they were to walk down the aisle like Celia, the next woman he’d been fool enough to ask to marry him. Two in a row had made Morgan hang up any thoughts of ever popping the question again. Not that he ever should have started dating Celia in the first place.

“Look, Jolie, that was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter anymore. Right now my concern is for those boys. They got hung out to dry by their parents and then their teacher left them for something better at the last minute. They don’t need another person leaving. They need someone they can count on to be here for them.”

Slapping a hand on her hip, fire flashed in her eyes. “I intend to honor my contract for the semester, and I’m going to do my best to help each of the boys any way that I can.”

Morgan met her gaze with fire of his own. “I don’t like your being here, but it doesn’t matter—you are. I’ll just have to hope and pray it all turns out okay.”

Turning away he strode back toward the schoolhouse, leaving Jolie standing beneath the old oak. He used the walk to rein in his temper so he could finish setting up the classroom. The last thing he needed was for the boys to pick up on the bad vibes between him and Jolie—and if he wasn’t careful, they would, before he even made it in the door.

How, he wanted to know as the schoolhouse got closer and his temper just got worse, was he ever going to make this work?

* * *

Infuriating man, Jolie thought, stalking after Morgan. “Stop right where you are, bucko,” she demanded, sounding as if she was calling him out to a gunfight at the O.K. Corral. He swung around at the entrance to the schoolhouse, clearly startled. She marched straight up to him.

“You might not have any faith in me.” And my faith in myself might be shaken to the core. “But while I’m here, I’ll give these kids everything I have to give. No holding back.”

For the first time since the accident Jolie felt a familiar strength ease through her, and she liked it. She’d had moments since nearly drowning when she’d felt as weak as a newborn, but she still counted herself a strong woman. She prayed that throwing herself into helping the boys of Sunrise Ranch would be a win-win situation for all of them.

“Key words, Jolie—while you are here.”

“It doesn’t matter to you if I can do a good job, does it, Morgan? This is personal on your part.”

“You bet it’s personal. These boys are my personal responsibility.”

Stung by his words and breathless with fury, she glared up at him, trying to ignore the fact that the man smelled of pine and leather. His scent played havoc with her senses. Her eyes, traitors that they were, slid down to rest on his lips. She inhaled, but all the air in the world seemed to have gone missing.

Focus, Jolie. Focus.

“Think the worst of me, Morgan McDermott. However,” she said, her conviction ringing true in her own ears, “I will give these boys everything I have to give them.”

He stepped so close they were almost touching, and she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. “That’s exactly what I expect,” he said. “They deserve it.” His gaze fell to her lips and lingered for only a brief instant before meeting hers. Jolie’s heart skipped a beat, and Morgan’s eyes were nearly black with dark emotion—yearning? Fury? Jolie was rendered speechless by his scowl. What was going on in that mind of his?

He left her then, continuing toward the school.

As she followed him toward the back door, she was sure of one thing and one thing only: for the first time in weeks she was filled with a great sense of purpose. What God had in store for her and Morgan, she didn’t have a clue. But God had plans for her at the Sunrise Ranch school and she was determined to prove herself to Him.

It was probably going to be a lot easier than proving herself to Morgan.


Chapter Three

When Jolie reached the main classroom a few seconds after Morgan, she saw Joseph holding the front door open for Morgan’s grandmother, Ruby Ann “Nana” McDermott. Nana was the backbone of the ranch, a former barrel racer who ran the chow hall like a well-greased wagon wheel. Her vision had been essential in making Lydia McDermott’s dream come true, and her heart had been essential in making the place what it was today.

Jolie knew that since Lydia’s death, Nana had been just as much a mother to Morgan as she had been to the countless young ranchers who’d needed her love. Jolie had loved and adored Nana and the feeling had been mutual. In her sixties, Nana had deep blue, wide-set eyes, high cheekbones and a square jaw, and there was no denying that her son Randolph and her three grandsons, Morgan, Rowdy and Tucker, were from her gene pool. Before her thick ponytail had turned the color of pale steel, it had been jet-black like Morgan’s and Randolph’s—a long-ago gift of the Cherokee blood of Nana’s ancestors.

Yesterday Jolie had been welcomed by Nana with open arms—there was never any lack of hugs where Nana was concerned. Today Nana hustled into the room like a woman on a mission, her ponytail swinging as she brought cookies to her boys—and checked up on Morgan and “her girl,” as she always called Jolie.

She set the large tray down on a worktable beside the computer as the tantalizing scent of chocolate and cinnamon filled the room. Nana’s smile was just as warm and sweet as the cookies nestled on the tray.

“Y’all have sure been workin’ hard today, so I whipped up some of your favorite cookies.” The instant she stepped back, it was like a free-for-all—the boys dived for the chocolate chip cookies, attacking them as if they hadn’t eaten all morning.

“Glad you came on out today, Jolie,” she said as Jolie gave her a hug.

“I thought it would be best to come and, you know—” she faltered as she looked at Morgan, who frowned at her “—get acquainted, with the boys, I mean, and get prepared.”

Morgan looked as if he’d just witnessed her robbing a bank or something, his eyes narrowing in distrust. Jolie gulped and looked back at Nana.

“Thank you for the snacks. These boys deserve it—as you said, they’ve been working hard.”

Nana waved off the comment. “These bottomless pits always need cookies.” She planted her fists on her hips, giving Jolie and Morgan the once-over. “When I was coming out of the chow hall I saw you two heading around the back of the building.”

Nana looked at Morgan, and Jolie thought she saw worry in her eyes.

“Um, we had things to discuss,” Jolie explained. What else could she say?

“Morgan, how’s your day going?” Nana asked when it was obvious the boys were too engrossed in cookie devouring to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Exasperation flashed in Morgan’s eyes. “How do you think, Nana? Started out with a real bang in Dad’s office this morning.”

Nana blushed—surprising Jolie, since she wasn’t the blushing kind—and she leaned in close to Morgan. “If it makes you feel any better, I told Randolph he needed to warn you.”

“And what about you?” he asked.

“I— Well,” she said, patting his arm. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Jolie wasn’t sure what was going on, but it sounded as if Morgan hadn’t known she was coming. Was that possible? The thought practically made her gasp. If that was the case, then no wonder he was so hostile. His dad had not only made the decision to hire her on his own, but had also kept it a secret—until today.

“You didn’t know?” she whispered.

His lips pressed into a tight line and his left eyebrow lifted ever so slightly.

Jolie gasped, looking from Morgan to Nana. It was true—Randolph hadn’t told him!

Nana turned to where the boys were scarfing down the cookies as if there was no tomorrow. “Did you fellas know Jolie is a world-class champion kayaker? She gets paid by sponsors to travel all over the world and compete using their gear. Isn’t that right, Jolie?”

“Get outta here. For real?” Wes said, stepping away from the cookie fray.

Jolie nodded and her stomach dropped to her feet as a sick feeling washed over her in a wave. Please don’t go there. I can’t handle that right now on top of everything else.

She’d known it was ridiculous to hope no one would mention her kayaking, yet she’d hoped exactly that. She gave a weak smile. “I’ve won a few competitions.”

“Ha!” Nana hooted. “She’s top ten in the country.”

Morgan crossed his arms, his expression stormy.

“Top in the country!” Wes gushed, suddenly looking a lot younger than seventeen.

“Really?” Tony joined in, his eyes lit with expectations.

Alarms clanged inside of Jolie.

“What’s kayaking?” Caleb asked as he and the other smaller fellas looked up from their cookies.

“It’s like a plastic canoe that holds one person, and they compete on riding the rapids and stuff.” Joseph had come closer, as intent as Wes and Tony. “We have some rapids on the river at this place. Do you know that?”

She knew what was coming next. She knew it and she wasn’t even sure she could speak. But she nodded and fought for words as acid churned in her stomach.

“I—I started on those rapids when I was a kid. Morgan showed them to me.”

That was all the encouragement the boys needed. They instantly erupted in excitement.

“Cool! Can you teach us?” Joseph said over the others’ exclamations. Jolie silently prayed for God to help her.

“I’ve always wanted to learn,” Wes gushed again, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Can you teach us?” he echoed as the others chimed in.

Jolie’s vision blurred—where had all the air gone? She suddenly felt unbearably hot as every eye in the room stared at her. Her pulse pounded in her head like the roar of the white river rapids she now feared. Black spots began to spatter her vision like paint drops. She swayed, woozy, and her gaze swung to Morgan—for what? To ask for help?

I can’t teach these boys to kayak!

Breathe, she commanded herself, even as her knees turned to jelly....

“Jolie!”

Morgan’s voice rumbled down a long tunnel as Jolie sank like a rock.

One minute she was standing and the next she was swooped up into strong arms. His strong arms. Morgan McDermott’s arms.

The arms she’d longed for since she’d walked away from Sunrise Ranch...six long years ago....

Voices floated to Jolie through a dark fog.

“She fainted,” Caleb gasped.

“Passed smooth out,” Sammy said in a hushed voice.

“I ain’t never in my whole long life seen nobody pass out,” B.J. whispered.

Though lost in the fog, it registered loud and clear to Jolie that her head was resting against Morgan’s chest. His heart beat against her temple so hard it was no wonder she’d come to so quickly.

“Good thang you gone and caught her, Morgan,” B.J. continued. Jolie was surprised how easily she could already identify the boys just by the sound of their voices.

“Yeah, or she might have died,” Sammy said solemnly.

“Caleb and Sammy, how about y’all get me a glass of water and a cold rag?” Nana urged gently.

“Sure! I’ll get the rag,” Caleb volunteered.

“I’ll get the water,” Sammy said. Their voices were followed immediately by the trample of feet.

“Jolie, can you hear me?” Morgan asked gently.

Jolie lifted her eyes and forced herself to pull her head away from Morgan’s heart. Embarrassment warmed her face. “Faint of heart” was not a description of the gal who’d looked down the throat of The Gorilla—the burliest rapids in the toughest of all the extreme kayaking competitions in the world—and felt only an adrenaline rush and excitement. She was not a wimp. Fainting was not in her vocabulary...or at least it hadn’t been until she’d almost drowned.

“Give her some air, boys,” Nana said. Moving in, she fanned Jolie furiously with a booklet she must have snatched from the bookshelf. “Honey, you’re whiter than Walter Pepper’s hair!”

Jolie would have smiled at that if she could have.

“How are you doing?” Morgan asked, his voice gruff in a way that made her heart beat faster.

“I’m okay,” Jolie assured them, looking at Morgan. His eyes were full of concern—and questions. She was thankful they were surrounded by the boys—boys who were silent and looked a little scared. She needed to stand up and show them she was fine.

Even if she was fast becoming a wimp, she certainly didn’t have to broadcast it.

“Are you sure?” Morgan set her on her feet, keeping his arms around her. “Maybe you should sit down.”

Maybe I need to stay in your arms—

Maybe I need to get a grip!

“No, I can stand,” she said firmly, and forced herself to step away from Morgan.

The concern in his eyes almost undid her.

This was the man she’d fallen for when she was sixteen years old. This was a gentler man, not the hard man she’d been dealing with for the last couple of hours. Sadly, she knew she was partly to blame for some of the hard crust encasing Morgan.

Praying her witless knees wouldn’t buckle, she was pleased when she stood firm. All she had to do now was come up with an answer as to why she wasn’t going to teach the boys how to kayak.

Sammy and Caleb came bounding from the back of the building, Caleb waving a washcloth and Sammy sloshing water from the glass as he ran, the hand clamped tightly over the glass not keeping the water from escaping. His big eyes were huge with fear. She hated that she’d worried him when he already had so many things bothering him.

“Sit,” Morgan demanded, pushing her into the nearest seat. B.J. immediately came to stand beside her.

“You’re whiter than a marshmallow,” Caleb declared, pushing the washcloth into her hands.

“I’m fine,” she assured him and the others as they all began talking about how pale she was.

“You scared fifteen years off my life,” Sammy said, sounding like an adult.

Jolie had to chuckle at his tone.

“Sammy, you don’t have fifteen years to scare off,” Joseph teased. “You’re only ten.”

Sammy frowned. “She scared it off me, though.”

Caleb blinked hard. “You scared me, too.”

Jolie’s heart warmed at their worry. “I’ll be honest with you, fellas. It freaked me out a little, too. I mean, really, I blacked out and woke up in Mr. Morgan’s arms—that’s a scary thing!”

She won a round of laughter from all the boys, and keeping the momentum going, she drove the topic away from her. The last thing she wanted was for one of them to ask about kayaking again.

She caught Morgan watching her and her insides did a swan dive straight to her toes. Forcing her chin upward, she gave him a smile and kept her balance as she stood.

Joseph frowned, his lean face looking a little strange without the smile that was usually plastered across it. “You’re as wobbly as the filly we just saw born.”

“I’m okay.” She forced any shakiness from her voice. “Now, let’s talk about this calf wrestling I’ll be winning tomorrow.”

“Winning?” Joseph grinned dubiously, looking more like himself. “I don’t think so. I’m wrestling, too.”

“Me, too,” Wes spoke up, challenge in his eyes. “Which means y’all are lookin’ at the winner right here.” He pulled his thumbs toward his chest and grinned.

Jolie laughed, feeling some semblance of herself returning. “You boys need to remember to never underestimate your opponent.” She let her gaze slide to Morgan. He crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side, his eyes holding steady, assessing her.

She knew she wasn’t fooling him. She also knew it wouldn’t be long before he asked her exactly what the fainting was all about.

She wondered if he would ask purely out of concern, as any decent person would do, or if he would ask because somewhere behind that shield he wore, he still cared for her. She was just going to have to wait and see.

But in the meantime, she should probably figure out what to do about the fact that she desperately wanted it to be the latter.


Chapter Four

A little unhinged by her afternoon, Jolie headed straight for the Spotted Cow Café to see her longtime friend Ms. Jo. The café was in its mid-afternoon lull when she walked through the lemon pie–yellow door. She was immediately greeted by the moo of the four-foot toy cow just inside the entrance. The cow’s hide had bare spots on it from years of kids petting it, but it mooed like a newborn bawling after its mama.

Jolie had good memories in this diner.

The soft buttery walls were covered with all manner of spotted-cow gifts from customers: knickknacks, cattle horns and mooing cow clocks were everywhere. It was a unique place, to say the least. Even the buffed-concrete floor was painted with large, irregularly shaped brown spots. They were supposed to represent the hide of a spotted cow but had come out looking more like cow patties, which was why Chili Crump and Drewbaker Macintosh, a couple of the old-time locals, nicknamed the diner the Cow Patty Café. Needless to say, that made Ms. Jo furious.

Jolie headed for the old-fashioned soda fountain at the back and her mouth began to water the instant the glass case of frothy pies came into view. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten all day.

Pie sounded like the perfect meal after the day she’d had.

“That’ll make you fat,” Edwina, the longtime waitress, warned, hustling out of the back carrying plates of hamburgers and fries. She paused to give Jolie a lopsided grin. “But it’s worth every calorie and more. You can tell by my hips that I partake of a bite every chance I can get.”

Jolie chuckled. Edwina was a character who’d worked for Ms. Jo for years. Skin as tough as boot leather and a personality to match, Edwina loved to tell tall tales. Rough as she was, she was part of the atmosphere and as dependable as all the cow clocks put together.

“You here to see Ms. Jo?” she asked. “She’s armpit-high in pie crust—okay, so her armpits aren’t involved, but she is in the pie dough, if you want to find her.”

Jolie grinned. “Thanks, Ed. You keeping the cowboys straight today?”

Edwina huffed and headed toward the two cowboys sitting at the window. “Crazy men, I done told them they weren’t welcomed in here but they keep comin’. I know it’s not the food or my winning personality, so it’s got to be my beauty. It’s a curse.”

Chuckling, Jolie headed through the swinging doors. She’d made Ms. Jo mad when she’d first arrived in town and only taken time to get checked in at the Dew Drop Inn before heading out to see Randolph. She’d known Harvey, the front-desk clerk, would have it all over town that she was back. By the time Jolie had come in yesterday afternoon, Ms. Jo had been told and was not happy that Jolie hadn’t come by to see her. She was probably still a little peeved about it today.

Walking through the curtain into the large, spotless kitchen, Jolie waved at T-Bone, their cook, as she passed the grill and went back to the baking area. Ms. Jo, a compact little gal with short brown hair curled around her ears, worked the dough with a pie roller. Her alert hazel eyes locked onto Jolie as she entered the room.

“I know that look,” she quipped, rolling pin wagging at Jolie. “You met up with Morgan, didn’t you?”

Jolie gave a weary nod as it all settled down on her again. Keeping her energy up for the kids had been tough, and she was emotionally drained.

“By the looks of you, it didn’t go so well.” Pointing the rolling pin at the stool by the workstation, she demanded, “Sit down and talk to me.” Heading to the sink, she rinsed her hands under the faucet. “How did Morgan react to seeing you?”

Jolie made circles in a small pile of white flour that was on the counter. “He isn’t happy. At all.”

“What did you expect? Flowers? You did hand him back his ring before hitting the trail for parts unknown.”

“Gee, thanks for the support.”

“You know I love you, but I’m worryin’ you’re fixin’ to get yourself in some hot water.”

“I apologized and he didn’t take it well.” She didn’t go into the fainting episode. The last thing she wanted to talk about was the reaction she’d had to being in his arms.

Shrewd eyes held Jolie’s. “You hurt Morgan when you left. And then, on the rebound, that boy went and almost married Celia Simpson. And she left him right after the rehearsal.” Ms. Jo clucked her tongue. “I’d hate to see you lead Morgan down the wrong road again.”

“I would never do that. Besides, he can barely stand to look at me.”

“You know he’s one of my favorites, Jolie. Kind of reminds me a little of my Clovis. He’s got feelings that run real deep and it’ll take more than words to prove you’re sorry. But maybe working with those boys he loves so much will help.”

Jolie was glad Ms. Jo didn’t tell her it would be easy—they both knew it wouldn’t be. Ms. Jo pulled a pie out of the glass icebox. “How about you and me take a break and have us a piece of this lemon pie with some coffee?”

Jolie sat up at attention. “Do you even have to ask?” She wondered if pie would help erase the feel of Morgan’s arms around her. Her heart went erratic just thinking about how she’d felt snuggled against his heart....

“I think this situation is gonna need a bunch of prayers, too. For those boys’ sakes, we need you two on speaking terms. Y’all don’t have to make up and kiss or anything—goodness knows that would only lead things in the wrong direction. Just bury the hatchet and get it over with.”

“Easier said than done, I think.”

“In all honesty, this could be the best thing for Morgan.” Ms. Jo brightened. “Maybe it’ll help him move forward, find someone who’ll actually go through with marrying him. Seems such a waste for a cowboy of his caliber not to have someone to call his own.”

Jolie put a huge bite of lemon pie on her fork, breathed in the tangy scent and stuffed it in her mouth so she wouldn’t have to say anything.

Because even after all this time, the thought of Morgan and someone else made Jolie want to eat an entire case of pies.

* * *

“How you doing, Morg, my man?” Rowdy asked Sunday afternoon.

Rowdy, Morgan’s younger brother, ran the ranch’s cattle operation and they were sorting the steers for the mugging together. “My boots almost had blowouts when Dad told me what he’d done.”

“You think you had a blowout,” Morgan growled.

Rowdy, who always looked as if he was ready for a good time, with lips that turned up at the edges and eyes shot with mischief, looked as concerned as Morgan had ever seen him. “So how did it go? The boys about talked my ear off at lunch. They’re impressed, just in case you didn’t know that.”

“Thanks, I picked up on that all by myself when their jaws started dragging in the dirt. And Wes and Joseph started showing off their muscles.”

Rowdy’s lips twitched. “Should make for a good show tonight. But how are you?”

Morgan rested a boot on the bottom rung of the arena and studied the steers closely. “How do you think? I don’t have a choice but to deal with it.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.” Rowdy hiked a shoulder. “You don’t date, Morg. You act like you’re married to the school. You have unfinished business and it’s time to finish it, one way or the other.”

Morgan grunted and kept his mouth shut.

“Would you look at that?” Rowdy whistled over the bellowing of cattle. “Pest is lookin’ good.”

Morgan turned to see Jolie hopping from her Jeep.

“Yeah,” he snapped. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

Rowdy chuckled, crossed his arms and leaned back against the corral to watch Jolie. Morgan shot him a glare, not fond of that glint in his brother’s eyes.

“I thought you said you were all right,” Rowdy said.

“I’m not in the mood, Rowdy.”

“Touché. Don’t get me wrong, I’m on your side. You got a real raw deal, but maybe that was all she had to give you at the time. Like I said, this could be a good thing.”

“Maybe I don’t want to discuss this right now.”

Rowdy chuckled. “Like I said, touché. Got to go get myself a hug.” Pushing off the fence, he strode toward Jolie, who had stopped to talk to their dad. Tucker, the eldest of the McDermott boys, was the county sheriff. He’d been talking with Nana, and now they all headed Jolie’s way.

Morgan scrubbed his scratchy jaw—it had been a long night delivering a new foal, he hadn’t had much sleep and this morning he’d missed church. He was not in the mood for this.

“Hey, pest,” Rowdy drawled, using his pet name for Jolie. “You’re looking good, but a little on the thin side. You not eating out there, making all that money having your picture taken in that yellow banana of yours?”

“Rowdy!” Jolie exclaimed. Rowdy laid an arm across her shoulders and hugged her as if she was his long-lost friend.

“Jolie.” Tucker greeted her with a hug, too.

Morgan almost got lockjaw, grinding his molars watching, his dad grinning as though he’d just reunited the family.

Ten thousand acres of West Texas ranch lands suddenly didn’t feel big enough. This “reunion” was enough to make a man ride off into the sunset and never look back.

“Hey, Morgan.” Chet, one of the top hands, called from the cattle pens on the far side of the barn. “Got a sec?”

A couple of years younger than he was, Chet had grown up on the ranch as a foster kid and had stayed on. Like the other fifteen cowboys who worked for the ranch, he knew Morgan’s history with Jolie...and Celia. There had been no teasing so far, and that fact alone told him they all thought he was on shaky ground now that Jolie was back.

It was embarrassing.

“I hear you fainted yesterday,” his dad said as Morgan hit the fast track across the corral toward Chet.

He’d had Jolie’s fainting spell on his mind since it had happened. Something was up with her, and he figured the last place she needed to be was running up and down this arena trying to throw a yearling on its back with her bare hands. Of course she lived in a world where she took her life in her hands every time she got into that kayak of hers and plowed through raging white water and over ridiculous waterfalls that weren’t meant for humans to fall over, much less charge over on purpose.

And to think he’d been the one to introduce her to it. Little had he known she would fall for it and become one of the best. When he’d taken her kayaking as a kid, it had been slow, easy river runs, nothing life-threatening—

He stopped his thoughts in their tracks.

Jolie wasn’t his concern anymore—hadn’t been since the day she’d walked away, choosing kayaking over him.

“What’s up?” he growled, reaching Chet.

Nudging his Stetson off his forehead, Chet met Morgan’s look with frank brown eyes. “Thought the love and admiration was about to start piling up knee-deep to a giraffe over there,” he drawled sarcastically, then pointed at one of the steers. “This ’un here’s got a bad leg. Thought you’d want to pull it from the event.”

That was no-nonsense Chet. Said what he wanted and moved on. Morgan almost grinned. Chet wasn’t one to get in another person’s business—giving him his support by saying what he just had meant a lot to Morgan.

Morgan studied the limping steer. “Yeah, take him out.”

“Will do, boss.” Chet nodded to one of the other cowboys working the gate to open it up. He and Morgan flanked the steer to send him through the gate, and one of the other cowboys herded him toward a separate pen.

“Time to get ready for some fun.”

Chet nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

Watching him head off to gather the men, Morgan knew Chet had his back. That was more than he could say about his own family. Although maybe his brothers’ affection for Jolie could come in handy. She might not want to tell him about the fainting episode, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t tell Rowdy or Tucker. Regardless, Morgan was determined to find out what was going on, whether Jolie wanted him to or not.


Chapter Five

The familiar scent of dirt and cattle filled the air as Jolie tried hard not to watch Morgan. It was an almost-impossible feat—the man had gotten only better-looking in the past six years. His black hair curled out from under his hat, just whispering against his blue button-down. The color made his eyes look darker than ever. And he was in his element as he strode back and forth inside the arena with Rowdy and the other cowboys getting everything set up for the mugging.

“I got trampled by a cow one time. That’s why I’m afraid to go out there,” Sammy was saying to Jolie. He’d been shadowing her since she’d arrived at the arena. Something about the kid spoke to her, and she wondered why he’d gravitated toward her. She couldn’t help thinking that it was the fear eating him up that had drawn him to her. Maybe on a subconscious level he recognized a kindred spirit of sorts.

Because she had fear eating her up, too.

And it irritated the dickens out of her. So much so that despite almost no sleep, she’d dragged herself out of bed and made it to church on just one cup of coffee. Her night had been awful, to say the least—just plain terrible.

It had started with thoughts of Morgan—specifically, the feel of his arms around her and the beat of his heart in her ear. Those sensations kept her awake half the night. When she’d finally fallen asleep, the nightmares arrived. Why, oh, why had she thought coming home would help ease them?

They hadn’t eased one iota.

Instead, they’d come as hard as ever, if not more so. Always the same, she was trapped in a raging vortex, upside down and fighting to make it to the surface. Always ensnared and struggling for her life.

Somewhere in the wee hours of the morning she’d given up trying to sleep and lay covered in sweat, tangled in sheets and worn-out. In the month since the accident, this had become the norm. Usually she turned to her Bible, searching for comfort and peace. Even though peace had been elusive, she knew God and only God had brought her up out of that watery grave.

A person would think that if she knew God had yanked her out of that murky water, there would be no reason to be full of fear from her toes to her roots—but she was. And she didn’t know what to do about it.

“You’re scared?” According to Morgan, Sammy was prone to exaggerations so she wasn’t sure what to make of his remark about being trampled, but she certainly recognized fear when she saw it. And it was like a flashing red beacon in his eyes.

He nodded. “Scared bad.”

“That’s totally understandable. Did the cow hurt you very badly?”

His gaze slid left, then back toward the four-foot-tall steers. “Broke my leg. My dad, he took real good care of me, though. And my mom.” He paused, gulping. “She cried, it scared her so bad.” He sighed wistfully. “They loved me so much they hated to see it happen.”

Heart slam!—Jolie was suddenly desperately grateful for her parents’ love and affection. She wanted to hug the child close—and at the same time do bodily harm to his parents for giving him up.

“I’m sure they did.” Jolie wondered if he even realized he’d said “loved” in the past tense. “You remember that anytime you need to talk about them, or anything that scares you, you can come to me. If you want to,” she added.

A half smile appeared that was one day going to make female hearts stop.

What a cute kid. And what a tough road he’d traveled. As had most of these boys.

A steer broke from the pack at the end of the arena and ran full tilt down the inside of the fence right in front of them.

Sammy’s head swung fast as he followed the black blur. Then immediately he turned back to her. “Are you really going to get out there?” he asked, his brows bunched in concern.

Jolie bit back a laugh. After all she’d faced in her kayak, a few half-pint cows didn’t scare her. Not that she’d dare tell Sammy that.

“You bet I’m getting out there!” she exclaimed. “It’s fun. If you learn how to do it right, even small people can flip a steer.” He didn’t look convinced at all. “You can do it, Sammy. It’s all in the technique.”

“We’re going in two groups,” Morgan called. Joseph clamored over the rail and jumped from the top rung to the ground. Instantly five more boys bailed over the rails and sauntered to join Joseph.

Jolie sure hoped she still had it—she hadn’t run around an arena after a steer in years. It hit her that if she hoped to get Sammy to participate at all today, she needed to go in the first group and lead by example. She climbed the fence and dropped to the ground on the other side.

“No!” Sammy yelped, grabbing hold of her shirt sleeve through the railing as if he feared he would never see her again. “Please don’t go,” he implored her.

“It’s going to be all right, Sammy. I promise. You’ll see, sugar,” she urged.

Adrenaline was flowing through her, a feeling she relished. She gave Sammy’s hand one last reassuring pat, then pulled away. She had never let fear hold her back—until the accident. But today, there was nothing inside the arena that remotely frightened her.

Matter of fact, she felt more alive than she had in a long time. Pure fun was what she called this.

It had been too long.

With big, goofy grins, the boys were whooping and waving her over. She jogged their way, smiling.

“Count me in on this one,” she called to Morgan. She rubbed her hands together, joining the boys behind the line that had been drawn in the dirt. Mentally she went over the names of the boys in the group—Joseph, Wes, Tony, Caleb and Micah, who was sixteen with rusty-brown hair, a lean face and eyes the color of well-washed jeans. They were all grinning from ear to ear as they looked at her.

Jolie clapped Caleb, the youngest, on the shoulder. “Hey, aren’t you Mr. Braveheart,” she teased, and his grin widened to touch his ears.

She was just starting to enjoy herself when she looked at Morgan. The man’s scowl told her he wasn’t happy with her at all.

So what else is new?

“You sure you want to do this? It’s been a long time, and yester—”

Jolie cut him off. “I’m fine, and I’m sure. Let’s get this muggin’ goin’!”

“If she can ride those rapids, I bet she can mug a puny five-hundred-pound steer.” Joseph grinned and spat a sunflower seed husk to the ground.

“Why, thank ya, Joseph,” she quipped, gloating a little at Morgan.

He frowned at the teen. “Maybe you need to tend to your own business.”

Joseph chuckled. “You sure been ornery the last few days, Morg.”

“Yeah,” Wes agreed. “Real grumpy.”

Morgan’s scowl deepened. “May I have a word with you?” he asked through bared teeth. Wrapping his hand around her biceps, he started walking her away from the group.

Once they were a good distance away from everyone he let go of her arm, leaving her skin tingling from his touch. She felt a rush of disappointment but wasn’t sure if she was disappointed that she’d felt a tingle or that he’d removed his hand.

“I can do this if I want to, Morgan McDermott.” Here was one of the problems that had prompted her to pack her bags six years ago—the man was pushy.

“You passed out yesterday. That’s not like you. I’ve thought about it all night and I’ve decided that there must be something wrong. You going to tell me what that something is?”

I’ve thought about it all night. He’d had her on his mind—the knowledge sent a shaft of joy straight to her heart. She continued to glare at him, though, because she’d never liked his bossing her around. It was all coming back to her now. Once he’d put his ring on her finger, he’d started trying to dictate her life—tried to wrap her up and keep her safe. It was out of concern, but she was not a china doll and refused to be treated as one.

Even if she felt broken right now.

“I did not pass out. I got a little faint is all.”

“You would have hit the floor like a rock if I hadn’t caught you.”

“Maybe, but—”

“Jolie, I’m not kidding. You come back here after all this time, and you aren’t kayaking. You nearly died—yeah, I know you didn’t elaborate on that, but Nana is my grandmother, so I’m informed. I know what a close call you had. I’m not blind and I’m not stupid, Jolie. There is something wrong with you and I want to know what it is.”

The man was impossible. “It’s none of your business.”

He loomed over her, his scent filling her senses. “I’m responsible for everyone out here and if you have some kind of condition, I need to know about it. You were hired on to this ranch without my say-so, but guess what? That makes you my business, especially if whatever’s going on affects your job.”

So his interest in what was wrong with her was because she worked for him. There was nothing personal about it. Nevertheless, she caved under that blue-eyed stare, blurting out, “I’m having trouble sleeping ever since the accident. I’m having a few nightmares.”

“Nightmares,” he repeated, clearly startled. Then his expression softened. “I guess that’s understandable after what you went through.”

Jolie suddenly wanted to tell him more, but was aware that all eyes were watching them as they stood practically nose to nose. This wasn’t the time or the place. And now that she thought about it, she didn’t want sympathy from him.

“I’m dealing with it,” she huffed, “which is why I’m taking some time off. Now, can we get this done?” she asked.

“Fine, do it,” he snapped. “Only, and I mean only, if you’re sure you won’t be passing out and getting trampled.”




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