The Wrong Cowboy, page 1
She glanced up to find Jensen Crawley watching her, closely, his expression blank.
Had she overstepped? Just because she didn’t buy into the whole generations-old Briscoe-Crawley feud didn’t mean he didn’t. It’s not like the two of them had ever talked about it. Not that we’ve had all that many conversations, period. For all she knew, he could think like his father did now: the Briscoes were the enemy. “Is this okay?” She nodded at Samantha and Harvey for clarification.
“It’s more than okay.” He smiled as he turned his attention to his daughter and the dog. “Samantha’s usually very wary around animals. This is...nice.”
Oh, that smile. That hadn’t changed. Not one bit.
A sharp whistle reached them, announcing the arrival of her brothers. The sudden tension in the air told Mabel all she needed to know. People might grow and change, but the grudge between their two families wouldn’t.
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to Garrison, Texas. The little town, nestled in the Hill Country, is bustling with activity as its citizens rally to save erste Baum, a community landmark, from developers. The old tree is the heart of the region—with many a wedding, birthday and festival taking place in the shade of its huge branches.
That’s why Mabel Briscoe has come home. She has never been one to back away from a cause, and she’s not going to start now. Collecting signatures and supporting the Save the Tree movement has her out and about, falling in love with her hometown all over again—and the people who live there. People like Jensen Crawley and his adorable little girl, Samantha.
Too bad the Briscoes and Crawleys have been rivals for generations, and making friends with Samantha, or Jensen, is out of the question. Even though she and Jensen seem drawn to one another, Mabel knows the truth. Saving erste Baum will take work, but it’s doable. Healing the Briscoe-Crawley feud, however, is all but impossible—no matter what her heart might want. I hope you enjoy your stay in Garrison and make plans to visit again real soon.
Happy reading,
Sasha Summers
The Wrong Cowboy
Sasha Summers
Sasha Summers grew up surrounded by books. Her passions have always been storytelling, romance and travel—passions she’s used to write more than twenty romance novels and novellas. Now a bestselling and award-winning author, Sasha continues to fall a little in love with each hero she writes. From easy-on-the-eyes cowboys, sexy alpha-male werewolves, to heroes of truly mythic proportions, she believes that everyone should have their happily-ever-after—in fiction and real life.
Sasha lives in the suburbs of the Texas Hill Country with her amazing family. She looks forward to hearing from fans and hopes you’ll visit her online: on Facebook at sashasummersauthor, on Twitter, @sashawrites, or email her at sashasummersauthor@gmail.com.
Books by Sasha Summers
Harlequin Heartwarming
The Cowboys of Garrison, Texas
The Rebel Cowboy’s Baby
Harlequin Special Edition
Texas Cowboys & K-9s
The Rancher’s Forever Family
Their Rancher Protector
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
Dedicated to Dr. Bonnie Beaver at Texas A&M University. You’ve inspired many of my animal-loving heroines—as you’ve inspired countless veterinary students along their educational journeys. Thank you!
Contents
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
EXCERPT FROM WORTH THE RISK BY ANNA J. STEWART
CHAPTER ONE
“HAVE YOU SIGNED the petition yet?” Mabel Briscoe stood outside the Garrison Family Grocery Store with a clipboard in one hand, fanning herself with the straw cowboy hat she held in the other.
“Why, Mabel Briscoe! Is that you?” Barbara Eldridge paused and came around her full grocery cart to hug her. “Look at you. Like a ray of sunshine.”
“I am wearing yellow.” She smiled, pointing down at her attire. She wore a bright yellow sundress, cowboy boots and one of the large green buttons the Garrison Ladies Guild had made for fundraising. It read, “Save erste Baum. Say No to Quik Stop and Shop.”
“Well, you look lovely,” Barbara said, nodding with approval. “And, yes, I signed the petition—proudly. But I appreciate you standing out here, getting more signatures.”
“I should have known, you being on the Ladies Guild and all.” Mabel tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s why I came home. I want to help.” And the only reason she was standing directly beneath the midday sun, melting.
Garrison was home to what was purported to be the oldest tree in Texas. Named erste Baum or First Tree, the tree and the large tract of land around it had always been for public use—a part of the town heritage and a place where the community often gathered. Now, the new city manager was talking to a big-box chain store about selling the prime real estate—erste Baum and all.
“You’ve always had such a big and giving heart, Mabel. I know having you on our side will give us an extra advantage.” Barbara Eldridge winked. “The more signatures we get on this cease and desist petition, the better.”
“Yes, ma’am.” So far, she’d collected three pages of names—and been hugged and welcomed home more times than she could count. It did make standing in the sun more bearable, but Mabel would have stood out in the rain if it helped. She couldn’t think of a better place to stand to catch all the Garrison citizens as they went in and out of the town’s only grocery store—even if the temperature was rising. “You should probably get your groceries out of the sun.” She nodded at the container of ice cream sticking out of one shopping bag.
“Oh, goodness, yes.” Mrs. Eldridge patted her cheek. “I look forward to catching up with you and hearing all about your... What was it again? Donkeys?”
“Mustangs.” Mabel smiled. “Wild mustangs.”
“Yes, that’s right.” She nodded. “You take care now. I’ll see you at Miss Martha’s birthday next weekend?”
Martha Zeigler was the galvanizing force behind the Save the First Tree movement. As the richest person in Garrison, the older, highly opinionated, prickly woman was someone folks tended to accommodate. Miss Martha never celebrated her birthday, as a result no one knew exactly how old she was, but she was doing everything she could to bring attention to the plight of the beloved tree. That was the only reason for her last-minute idea to throw herself a massive birthday party beneath the branches of the First Tree this upcoming weekend—on the heels of last weekend’s well-publicized and awareness-boosting community picnic. Miss Martha was hoping for an even bigger turnout for her birthday. Mabel suspected it would be a bigger crowd, too, out of sheer curiosity. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
“It’s sure to be quite the production. Martha wouldn’t have it any other way.” Mrs. Eldridge chuckled. “And good luck getting those signatures.”
Once Mrs. Eldridge was heading across the parking lot, Mabel went back to fanning herself with her cowboy hat. Harvey, her brother’s massive part Great Dane, part Great Pyrenees, eyed her from his spot in the shade against the side of the building.
“You’re no help.” She shielded her eyes, smiling at the dog’s massive yawn—not in the least offended by her rebuke.
The doors slid open, and a cool gust of air rolled over her, giving her a moment’s reprieve from the stifling heat.
“And she said...she said... Daddy, are ya listenin’?” A little girl with a head full of black curls came skipping out, pausing to stare back over her shoulder. “Daddy?”
“Right here, Samantha.” The deep voice was all warmth and amusement.
For Mabel, the sound of that voice had her heart hammering and her whole body tightening—torn between running and hiding. But her legs and feet wouldn’t cooperate. She was frozen in place. Wide-eyed. Staring. A ball of anticipation and distress formed in her stomach and worked its way up to lodge in her throat. Every bit of her seemed to coil up, waiting for...
Jensen Crawley stepped outside and Mabel had to bite into her lower lip to stop from sighing aloud. Jensen was, to Mabel, the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on.
He’d always been...different. Since she lived with four brothers and an uncle who were constantly teasing and arguing and making too much noise, she’d found Jensen’s careful use of words and more serious nature highly appealing. He was kind; his smile was shy and warm. And his hair... The girls at school had all been so jealous of his hair. Dirty blond with streaks of gold running through his silky curls. Most of the time, he’d kept his hair short but Mabel had always liked his hair longer—usually right before he’d go for a trim. And, since he was a head taller than everyone and he had that hair, she’d always been able to find him in a crowd.
Because I was always looking for him. Even though Jensen was the one boy in all of Garrison she shouldn’t have been looking for. He was a Crawley. She was a Briscoe. That simple fact was enough for them both to keep their distance. And since that hadn’t changed... I shouldn’t be looki ng now, either.
From her quick assessment now, it appeared he was, for the most part, unchanged. Older, of course. Taller, too. And thicker. He wasn’t the string bean he’d been in high school. Now—she swallowed—his muscles were obvious.
While Mabel was having thoughts about things she shouldn’t care one whit about, the little girl with the curls stopped right in front of her. “Hey. I’m Samantha, what’s your name?” The little girl stared up at her with dark blue eyes—almost black.
You have your father’s eyes. “I’m Mabel.” The little girl smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Samantha.” She held out her hand to shake.
Harvey, who loved kids, hopped up to trot across the concrete sidewalk.
Samantha backed up, her bright smile fading as she ran around her father and hid behind his legs. “Daddy, is that a bear?”
“No, little miss, that’s a dog. One big dog.” Jensen Crawley reached around to pat her on the head. “No worries. Miss Mabel’s always been able to talk to animals. I’m sure she’d say something if the dog meant us any harm.” Jensen’s deep blue eyes scanned her face quickly, his smile hesitant. “Probably.”
Mabel put her hat on, smoothing her hair from her shoulders. “Probably?” Her laugh was nervous. Why? Why was she nervous? It had been years since she’d last seen him—let alone talked to him. He was practically a stranger. Heat exhaustion. That was what it was. I need water.
He touched the rim of his hat. “It’s been a while.”
Mabel nodded, her gaze falling to Samantha. “I’d say at least...five years?”
“Hey, I’m five.” Samantha held up five fingers. “Almost six.”
“Almost. Only ten more months to go.” Jensen’s gaze fell to the button pinned to the wide strap of her sundress. “Taking up the cause?”
“Of course.” Mabel hugged the clipboard. “When Uncle Felix told me, I thought he was joking. I’m still...in shock.”
“It won’t happen.” He shook his head.
“I hope you’re right.” Which reminded her of why she was standing there, in the sun, hugging a clipboard. Way to be on the ball, Mabel. “I know a way you can make sure it doesn’t happen.” She smiled sweetly and held out the clipboard.
“What’s that?” Samantha wasn’t budging from behind Jensen—even though Harvey was sitting, patiently, tongue lolling out of his mouth and his thick plume of a tail wagging in greeting.
“It’s a petition,” Mabel explained. “We are trying to save erste Baum.”
“The tree?” Samantha asked, her gaze bouncing from Harvey to Mabel’s clipboard. “Is it sick? Does it need medicine?”
“No. Not exactly.” Mabel crouched, holding out the clipboard. “This paper says whoever signs it doesn’t want anything to happen to the First Tree. I’m trying to get a whole bunch of people to put their names here so we can take it to the city council—the people that make decisions.”
“Oh.” Samantha nodded, running her fingers over the paper. “Daddy needs to sign it?”
“Only if he wants to.” Mabel was aware that Harvey was now belly-crawling, inch by inch, toward her side—closer to Samantha. “What is it, Harvey?” She paused, watching as Harvey turned to look at her, cocking his head to one side. His whimper was soft. “You want me to introduce you to Samantha?”
Harvey’s tail wagged.
“He said that?” Samantha asked, moving back behind Jensen, but peering around his legs with eyes round as saucers.
“More or less.” Mabel gave Harvey a good scratch behind the ear. “I promise you, Samantha, he’s not a bear. But if he was one, he’d be a big ole teddy bear. I know he’s on the big side, but he’d never hurt you.”
Jensen’s hand dropped to rest on Samantha’s shoulder. “Mabel knows.”
Samantha was studying Harvey now, not convinced. “But he looks like...like a polar bear.”
Mabel turned, studying the dog. “You know, you’re right. He does.” She faced Samantha. “But did you know polar bears only live in the Arctic? That’s very far away. And much colder than Garrison. So, even though he might look like one, I can assure you Harvey is not a polar bear.”
“And zoos,” Samantha said. “Daddy took me to the zoo and there was a polar bear there.”
Mabel glanced at Harvey again. “Zoos, too. They do all sorts of work to keep animals safe and healthy.”
Samantha nodded. “And they have yummy popcorn, too.”
Mabel laughed. “Do they? It’s been a long time since I’ve been.”
“You should go.” Samantha watched as Harvey continued his snail-paced belly-crawl, scooching closer to her. “So, you’re sure he’s not a polar bear?”
“One hundred percent. Cross my heart.” She drew a cross over her heart with her fingers.
“Okay, then, I guess I can meet him.” Samantha shrugged.
“Harvey,” Mabel called, patting him when he sat up straight and tall at her side. “Harvey, this is Samantha. You use your best manners and say hello.” She held his broad head in her hands and stared into his eyes. “Nice and gentle, okay?”
Harvey blinked.
“Samantha, this is Harvey—the not polar bear.” Mabel watched as Samantha leaned forward, hand outstretched, to touch Harvey on the nose. “It’s wet.” She smiled, stepping around from behind Jensen so her hand could slide up and over his head. “Ooh, he has soft fur.”
“Doesn’t he?” Mabel nodded, staying close. Samantha was doing well, but it was clear the little girl was uncertain.
Harvey must have sensed it, too, because he flopped onto his back and offered up his tummy.
“He’s says he trusts you.” Mabel pointed. “A dog does that to tell you that you’re in charge and he just wants to be friends.” She glanced up to find Jensen Crawley watching her closely, his expression blank.
What did that mean? Had she overstepped? Just because she didn’t buy into the whole generations-old Briscoe-Crawley feud didn’t mean he didn’t. It wasn’t like the two of them had ever talked about it. Not that we’ve had all that many conversations, period. For all she knew, he could think like his father did now: the Briscoes were the enemy. “Is this okay?” She nodded at Samantha and Harvey, for clarification.
“It’s more than okay.” He shook his head, a crease forming between his brows as he turned his attention to his daughter and Harvey.
Harvey, good boy that he was, was perfectly still while Samantha carefully inspected his paws. When she seemed satisfied, she reached out a tentative hand to stroke the thick fur on Harvey’s tummy. “Nice, Harvey,” she said softly, making Harvey’s tail wag.
“Samantha’s usually very wary around animals. This is...nice.” He shook his head, that slow smile returning to his face.
“Are you friends with Daddy?” Samantha asked.
Mabel tore her gaze from Jensen. “Um...” I used to be madly in love with your father but, as a mature grown woman, I am totally over him now. No. That wouldn’t work. “We went to school together.”
“You did?” Samantha asked.
“Sort of. Miss Mabel’s younger,” Jensen said, his smile growing as he watched his daughter with Harvey.
Oh, that smile. Mabel swallowed, hard. That hadn’t changed. Not one bit.
A sharp whistle reached them, announcing the arrival of her brothers, Webb and Forrest. The sudden tension in the air told Mabel all she needed to know. People might grow and change, but the grudge between their two families wouldn’t. Not that I was expecting anything different. She stood, smoothing the skirt of her sundress and waving at her brothers. “Is it time already?” she asked.
“Yep,” Webb said, giving Jensen a narrow-eyed look.
“Okay.” Her gaze shifted to Jensen.
Jensen and Forrest exchanged a stiff nod, before Jensen said, “Come on, Samantha, we need to get home.”
“Oh.” Samantha stood, taking Jensen’s hand. “Did you sign Miss Mabel’s papers?” She tugged on her father’s hand. “Save the tree, Daddy.”
Poor Jensen. Mabel felt certain all Samantha would ever have to do was use that look right there to get whatever she wanted. The big blue eyes. The tiny crease of concern between her brows. The twist to her lips. Samantha Crawley was too adorable for words.
