Loe raamatut: «Rescuing the Texan's Heart»

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Acknowledgments

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

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

He didn’t want to be here.

Eyeing the snow-laden peaks that spread in every direction, Cash Coble tightened his grip on the steering wheel of his rented SUV and slowly navigated the hairpin turns leading into Ouray. He’d reeled in two new dealers over the past two weeks and, thanks to a new manufacturing plant, business at Coble Trailers showed no signs of slowing down.

Meaning, Cash couldn’t afford to, either.

I’s had to be dotted. T’s needed to be crossed. In Cash’s world, there was no such thing as a relaxing weekend.

It’s only three days.

He took a deep breath, mentally chastising himself for being so selfish. Gramps had never been too busy when it came to Cash. So why couldn’t he show the old man the same courtesy?

A sharp right curve on the Million Dollar Highway and Cash glimpsed the town that he’d once hoped to call home. Nestled in a bowl among southwestern Colorado’s majestic San Juan Mountains, Ouray was like no place else. Gramps always said it was heaven on earth. And, after all these years, Cash still agreed.

So why had it been so long since his last visit?

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Work. Work that was in Dallas, not Ouray.

No point in dwelling on what could never be.

But you’re here now.

Only because his mother was caring for his two-year-old niece while his very pregnant sister was sentenced to bed rest. Yet that didn’t stop Mom from insisting Cash take her place. All because Gramps had been dealing with a little bronchitis. Of course, the man was ninety. And when Mom got insistent, neither Cash nor his dad stood a chance.

Clouds gave way to the early-afternoon sun illuminating the businesses that lined Main Street. The corners of his mouth twitched. The rows of colorful Victorian buildings still held the charm of a bygone era when miners and gold were the lifeblood of this town.

Two blocks and a couple of right turns later, Cash eased the SUV to a stop in front of his grandfather’s house. The 1920s two-story didn’t look quite the way he remembered. Peeling green paint and a roof that had seen better days made the house seem neglected. Forgotten.

Kind of like your grandfather.

The thought jarred him. Had it really been ten years since his last visit?

He shifted the vehicle into Park and pulled the key from the ignition. What happened to him? There was a time when he would have leaped at the opportunity to visit his grandfather. Now it had taken coercion.

Exiting the SUV, he sucked in a breath of the freshest air he’d smelled in ages and lingered over the view. Ouray was the antithesis of Dallas. The closest things to mountains there were made of metal and glass. Man’s handiwork sure paled next to God’s.

He unzipped his jacket, the temperature warmer than he expected. Remnants of snow still clung to life in shady areas, while dirty mounds dwindled away on street corners. Not exactly what he’d hoped for. It was February, after all, and this was Colorado. There should be plenty of snow. Even an inch or two would appease his Texas heart.

“Scout...stop that.” Somewhere behind him, a female giggled.

Turning, he glimpsed a young woman crossing the patch of brown grass that was Gramp’s side yard. She held a foil-covered tray in each hand, while a small wirehaired pup playfully nipped at her shoes.

“Scout! You’re going to make me fall.”

The dog all but ignored the hint of reprimand in the woman’s tone and continued to dart in and around her feet.

That is, until it spotted Cash. The animal jerked to a halt.

Unaware, the woman stumbled over the dog, sending one of the platters airborne.

Ignoring the ache in his left knee from sitting too long, Cash rushed up the walk, intercepting the tray before it reached the ground.

The startled dog let out a high-pitched bark and lunged toward him.

The woman straightened. “Scout! No!”

Hoping to maintain an air of composure, Cash eased onto his good knee and held out his free hand. “Scout, is it?” He kept his voice gentle. “Well, hello there.”

The pint-size mixed breed sniffed his fist. Its ears went back and tail wagged.

Cash couldn’t help smiling. He missed having a dog. Life just hadn’t been the same since Mickey died last year.

“There you go.” He stroked the animal’s sandy-colored fur. “See, I’m not so bad.”

Standing, he met the woman’s gaze.

“Sorry about that, Cash.” Her pale blue eyes were unusually stunning. Especially against her tanned skin. The kind that could knock a guy right off his feet. She smiled. “Your grandfather said you were coming. Matter of fact, he hasn’t talked about anything else.”

The knife of guilt twisted.

He stared at the woman. “Taryn?” Eyes that striking were hard to forget. Even though she was only a kid the last time he’d seen her.

“That’s me.” She shifted from one foot to the other, tucking her short, golden-brown hair behind her ear.

“Wow. I haven’t seen you since you were what...twelve?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Try seventeen.”

Way to go, Coble. “Sorry.” He glanced at the tray in his hand. “Something sure smells good. This wouldn’t be for Gramps, would it?”

“It is.”

He couldn’t help grinning. “Well, darlin’, allow me to assist you then.”

Her smile evaporated. She stiffened. “Suit yourself.” Turning on the heel of her rubber-soled shoes, she advanced up the wooden steps, leaving Cash to wonder if he’d offended her with the age remark.

Women. He’d never understand them.

He followed her, noting the large supply of wood stacked at one end of the porch. Surely Gramps hadn’t cut all that himself.

Taryn reached past the handle of a snow shovel for the bell, when the door opened.

“I thought I heard voices out here.” Gramps held the storm door wide. His white hair was as thick as ever and his green eyes brightened when he caught sight of Cash. “Come in. Come in.”

If first impressions meant anything, Cash’s mother was worried for nothing. The old man looked great.

Scout trotted inside first, as though she belonged, followed by Taryn and Cash.

The old house looked much better on the inside. The dark wood paneling in the living and formal dining space had been painted white, brightening the room considerably. Looked like Gramps had a new recliner, too. Seemed he wore one out about every five years or so. The floral sofa, though, still looked as new as the day Cash’s grandmother bought it.

“I thought you’d be at the ice park.” Gramps smiled at Taryn.

“No, not today.”

The old man shifted his attention back to Cash, his chest puffed out. “Did you know that Ouray is the ice climbing capital of America?”

“I did not.” However, he couldn’t help noticing that the console TV was still parked near the front window so it could be viewed from the kitchen.

“We even have a big ice festival. But that was last month.”

Cash always said his grandfather should be a spokesperson for the town. The old man never missed an opportunity to talk up Ouray.

“Pretty nice setup they’ve got over there, though.” Gramps inhaled deeply. “Smells like you’ve been baking again, young lady.”

Pink tinged Taryn’s cheeks. “It’s almost Valentine’s Day, Mr. Jenkins. Lots of people are baking.”

“So what’s your excuse the rest of the year?” The old man looked at Cash. “This sweet thing keeps me on baked goods that rival anything your grandmother would have made.”

Cash focused on the girl who had once followed him and her brother all over Ouray. “Beautiful and a great cook. That ought to make some man very happy.”

Those clear blue eyes narrowed for a split second.

“I’ll take this.” She snatched the tray from his hand and headed into the kitchen.

He turned to his grandfather. He hadn’t seen the old man since the last time he’d come to Texas, shortly after the birth of Cash’s niece. That was over two years ago. And while one would never guess the man to be ninety, the telltale signs of age had grown more numerous. Lines revealed a man who loved the outdoors and age spots dotted his tanned skin.

“How are you, Gramps?”

His grandfather drew him into a warm embrace. “Even better now, son.” He clapped Cash on the back with a strength that belied his age. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again.”

Funny how he had to stoop to hug this man he once considered a giant. He still smelled of coffee and outdoors. Home.

His grandfather released him.

“And the bronchitis?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Taryn there nursed me back to health with her homemade chicken soup.”

“Good.” He looked around the familiar space where he’d spent so much of his childhood. “It’s good to be here. Thank you for inviting me.”

Gramps sent him a stern look. “No invitation needed. You know you’re always welcome.”

The moisture in the old man’s eyes tugged at Cash’s heart. Suddenly, he was glad he’d come. A few days in Ouray might do wonders for him. Who knows? He might even relax. Clear his head. And, with any luck, see a little snow.

* * *

First, darlin’, then beautiful.

Taryn Purcell had heard those words before. And they made her skin crawl worse than nails on a chalkboard.

It took all the restraint she could muster not to dump the cherry pie and other goodies she’d made onto Art Jenkins’s kitchen table. She loved the old man as much as her own grandfather, but his grandson left much to be desired.

She huffed out a sigh. Cash Coble. A big name for a big man with an even bigger ego, no doubt. Was it just her or were all tall, good-looking Texans arrogant and condescending? Like a woman’s sole purpose was to cook and look good for her man.

That’s probably how Cash preferred his women—in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant.

Hmph. Bet Big Tex wouldn’t have the guts to strap on some crampons, grab an ax and scale some fat ice. Boy, she’d like to teach him a thing or two.

“Taryn...” Mr. Jenkins’s voice drew closer.

She turned as he entered the kitchen with his grandson. From his short blond hair to his boot-cut jeans and pointy cowboy boots, Cash had Texan written all over him. Right down to the swagger. And those dimples...

Biting her lip, she shifted her attention to Scout, who was happily tucked under Cash’s arm, licking him as if the man was a side of beef. Scout was usually afraid of men. Even Mr. Jenkins had to bribe her with a treat before the mutt allowed him to pick her up. And he’d known her since she was a puppy.

“You remember my grandson, Cash, don’t you?”

She gripped the metal edge of the ancient Formica-topped table behind her and forced a smile. “I do. Not that we spent much time together.” Cash was five years older than her, the same age as her brother Randy. Guess that would make him thirty-two.

Mischief glinted in Cash’s green eyes. “No, but I sure remember how you used to spy on Randy and me.”

She squared her shoulders. “I was not spying.”

“Aw, come on. Every time I turned around I’d see you ducking behind something.”

He saw me?

She lifted her chin, her trail shoes scraping across the worn gold-and-orange sheet vinyl. “Well, somebody had to make sure you two stayed out of trouble.”

Turning her attention back to his grandfather, she said, “There’s a cherry pie—” she pointed to the foil-wrapped pastry “—and then here we have some banana nut bread, chocolate chip cookies and brownies.”

The old man gave her a one-armed hug. “You sure know how to spoil a fella.”

She kissed his weathered cheek. “Some people are simply worth spoiling.” Stepping back, her gaze inadvertently fell to Cash. True, she’d brought enough baked goods for two, though she never imagined she would actually run into Cash.

Her heart skittered to a halt. Oh, no. He probably thought she was waiting for him to pull up before she brought this stuff over.

Talk about lousy timing.

“I...need to get back to the house.” She retrieved her Chihuahua-terrier mix from Cash’s muscular arms and hurried through the living room as if she had something burning in the oven. But she had to get out of here before she said or did something she’d regret.

“Thank you, again,” Mr. Jenkins called behind her as she opened the door.

“You’re welcome.” She squeezed Scout tighter and continued onto the porch and down the steps, feeling as though someone had sucked the air out of her lungs.

Clouds covered the sun as she hurried to the Victorian house next door. She could only imagine what was going through Cash’s mind. Everyone knew what a huge crush she’d had on him as a kid. And seeing him now, that same sensation had wriggled through her once again. Then he called her darlin’.

She stomped up the back steps. That single word was like a splash of icy water. The last time she fell for that line it had cost her far more than anyone knew.

She nuzzled Scout’s wiry fur. “Can I get some sugar?” Some people thought her crazy for talking to her dog like a baby. But her brothers’ opinions weren’t of any concern to her. Besides, Scout was her baby and Taryn loved her every bit as much as her brothers loved their kids.

Scout licked her nose.

“Thank you.”

Inside her parents’ kitchen, she set Scout on the wooden floor and shrugged out of her fleece vest. Cash still looked as amazing as she remembered. The only thing that had changed was that the good-looking boy had grown into a fine-looking man. The kind that knew how to make a woman feel special. Loved.

That is, until he was finished with her.

Like Brian.

Gooseflesh prickled down her arms.

I’m not totally heartless, darlin’.

She tossed her vest over a hook near the door, slumped into one of six straight-back chairs surrounding the oak table and rubbed the chill away.

If only her shame were so easy to erase.

Cool air infiltrated the room as her mother, Bonnie Purcell, swept through the door with several grocery sacks.

Taryn shoved to her feet. “Let me help you, Mom.”

“Oh, thank you, honey.”

She took the bags, settled them on the granite countertop—her mom’s big splurge when she had the kitchen remodeled last spring—and unloaded the items while her mother removed her jacket.

“I see there’s an SUV parked in front of Art’s house. I wonder if Cash has arrived.”

Scout’s nails clicked against the hand-scraped oak as she trotted across the kitchen to dance at her mom’s feet.

Taryn focused on emptying the bags. If she let on that she’d been next door, her mother would home in on that and assume Taryn still had a crush on Cash.

Her mom scooped up the dog, continuing toward Taryn and staring next door.

She followed her mother’s gaze. “Uh, yeah. I saw him go inside.” Not a lie, just not full disclosure.

“I bet Art is tickled to death.” Her mother turned her way, brushing her dark brown bangs to one side. “That boy has always held such a special place in his heart. I think he really believed Cash would end up in Ouray one day.”

“Didn’t he take over his father’s company or something?” Trying to act nonchalant, Taryn dumped a fresh bag of flour into the large glass canister on the counter.

“I don’t think he took it over, just stepped in to run things when his father got sick.”

Taryn had been too wrapped up in herself back then to remember what happened. “Sick how?”

“Cancer.”

She dared to meet her mother’s gaze. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, yes.” Her mom set Scout to the floor. “But it was touch and go for a while. They make livestock trailers, you know. Cattle, horses....” She wadded up the empty grocery bags and tucked them in the pantry. “From what I hear, the company has really grown with Cash at the helm. There aren’t many young men who would give up their own dreams to step in and help their father like that.”

Once again, Taryn’s gaze trailed to the house next door. Perhaps. But she knew all too well that a guy could live up to his family’s expectations and still be a heel. Her heart had the scars to prove it.

Turning, she concentrated on the rest of the groceries. Yep, the best thing she could do was steer clear of Cash Coble. Because no matter how enticing it might be to revisit childhood dreams, Cash was a heartbreak waiting to happen. And she had no intention of going through that ever again.

“I can hardly wait to see him,” her mother gushed. “Which is why I went ahead and invited them for dinner.”

Taryn halted, terror clipping through her veins. “Dinner? Tonight?”

“Why, yes. We agreed to move our family dinner to tonight since you’ll be at Blakely’s wedding rehearsal tomorrow.”

“I know that, but Cash isn’t family.”

“He’s just like family. And he’s only in town for a few days. Besides—” Her mother grabbed a package of toilet paper. Matchmaking mirth glinted in her gray-blue eyes as she started out of the room. “I hear he’s still single.”

Taryn cringed. “Mom, please don’t go there.” The last thing Taryn needed was a man. What she did need, however, was a life. Some semblance of a future. Twenty-seven years old and she still lived with her parents. How was that for pathetic?

Sure, she loved climbing and teaching people to overcome their fears, but she couldn’t live at home forever. She needed something to call her own. And since this morning’s chat with Mr. Ramsey at All Geared Up, Ouray’s one-stop shop for outdoor enthusiasts, she just might have a plan.

But first she had to make it through dinner.