Книга - The Cowboy Takes A Wife

The Cowboy Takes A Wife
Trish Milburn


THIRD TIME'S A CHARM?Retired bull rider Cole Davis was much more successful in the ring than in his relationships. Twice divorced, he's come home to work on the family ranch and build his budding art career—and steer clear of anything serious when it comes to women. But when he overhears Devon Newberry being bullied by her pushy mother, he comes up with a plan to help the pretty shopkeeper.Though Devon hates lying, the blue-eyed cowboy's proposal of a fake relationship is working perfectly…until her feelings become all too real. She knows Cole's heart isn't available, but she can't help hoping she can change his mind!







THIRD TIME’S A CHARM?

Retired bull rider Cole Davis was much more successful in the ring than in his relationships. Twice divorced, he’s come home to work on the family ranch and build his budding art career—and steer clear of anything serious when it comes to women. But when he overhears Devon Newberry being bullied by her pushy mother, he comes up with a plan to help the pretty shopkeeper.

Though Devon hates lying, the blue-eyed cowboy’s proposal of a fake relationship is working perfectly…until her feelings become all too real. She knows Cole’s heart isn’t available, but she can’t help hoping she can change his mind!


“Trust me when I say there are way worse things than pretending to date a pretty woman.”

Had Cole just called her pretty? Even if he wasn’t thinking romantic thoughts toward her, that simple comment filled her with a joy that wasn’t wise but which there was no stopping.

“Well, I better get home,” she said as she reached for the door handle.

“Wait,” he said. He hopped out of the truck and hurried over to her side to open the door.

“This isn’t necessary,” she said when she allowed him to hold her hand as she slipped out of the truck. “No one is around.”

He glanced beyond her for a moment then started to lower his head toward her.

Oh, my God! He’s going to kiss me. Her heart thumped hard.

But in the next moment, he whispered in her ear, “Your parents just walked out of La Cantina.”

“Oh,” she managed, perhaps a bit too disappointed.

Who was she kidding? She was disappointed. What had she gotten herself into?


Dear Reader (#ulink_8d5d900b-7034-5eb1-9e93-b2968a34d588),

Welcome back to Blue Falls, Texas, and another tale of happily-ever-after. The more I build and populate Blue Falls with characters, the more I grow to love it. These cowboys and ranchers and the women who love them while living amazing lives of their own are so real to me, and I hope it’s the same for you, the reader.

While The Cowboy Takes a Wife finally brings to fruition Blue Falls’s new Arts and Crafts Trail, which you’ve been reading about in the past few books, there are so many more stories of love in this Hill Country town to tell. As I write this letter, I’m already brainstorming new Blue Falls stories. I hope you are eagerly awaiting reading them as much as I am writing them.

I love to hear from readers. Let me know what you like about Blue Falls, maybe even whose story you’d like to see next. You can email me through my website at trishmilburn.com (http://www.trishmilburn.com) with your comments. And as always, thanks to the moon and back for your support.

Trish Milburn


The Cowboy Takes a Wife

Trish Milburn






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


TRISH MILBURN writes contemporary romance for the Harlequin Western Romance line. She’s a two-time Golden Heart® Award winner, a fan of walks in the woods and road trips, and a big geek girl, including being a dedicated Whovian and Browncoat. And from her earliest memories, she’s been a fan of Westerns, be they historical or contemporary. There’s nothing quite like a cowboy hero.


Contents

Cover (#u50cef062-8d57-5f4e-88e8-f0dfb186fde6)

Back Cover Text (#ua7bd8620-750e-593d-914d-2aafd2fea3ad)

Introduction (#ubc32299e-c78d-51ec-843a-d4d95e6afc63)

Dear Reader (#ulink_479a0414-e406-5d9e-9bad-6851db797379)

Title Page (#u8f5079f4-b0b7-5d74-b18c-caf58d9c84ba)

About the Author (#uadcdc590-6380-5392-b9f1-69319c6940f7)

Chapter One (#u94a5af5b-9faa-5dcc-a590-faf14691b5b5)

Chapter Two (#u631daa23-ec9d-5bd4-b12d-cc51d634f13b)

Chapter Three (#u1ad4ac50-c45b-517e-8974-63c5e20079de)

Chapter Four (#uc6c20c32-166b-5caf-b9df-6da81c5e03f5)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

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)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#ulink_556475cf-d5b0-5941-ac27-d09b13422bbb)

Devon Newberry placed the skein of bright orange yarn and a dozen vanilla-scented candles in the paper bag and handed it across the counter to Merline Teague.

“Thanks so much,” Devon said as she smiled at the older woman, the mom of local sheriff Simon Teague and his two brothers.

“No, thank you, dear. Your candles keep the gallery smelling wonderful.”

“I’m glad. I need to get by there soon. I haven’t been in a while.”

“Oh, you should come by next week. We’re having an opening for a new exhibit of art created by students at the high school. I’m just in awe of the talent they have.”

“That sounds wonderful. I’ll try to find some time to see it.”

“Speaking of, I better run. I still have a lot of work to do to prepare. Thanks again,” Merline said as she lifted her bag and headed toward the door of Devon’s shop, A Good Yarn.

Devon sank onto the stool behind the cash register, grateful to get off her feet for a moment. The shop had been busy all afternoon, which was wonderful but also tiring. And she still had to prep the daily deposit and attend a meeting at the Blue Falls Tourist Bureau about the new Arts and Crafts Trail. But she wasn’t going to complain about having a rush of customers, not when the fear of being an abject failure was as fresh now as it’d been when she’d opened her shop on Blue Falls’ Main Street. Not when her mother’s assertion that she was making a stupid mistake still echoed in her mind if she let it.

No, she was beyond thankful that the turning of the seasons to autumn put people in the mood to buy knitting supplies, hand-dipped candles and the various other homey touches Devon offered, even though the temperatures were still in the upper eighties during the day.

She let her gaze drift over the variety of displays she’d taken great care to create in order to best showcase both the products she made herself and those she chose from other sources. A well of pride rose within her. She was closing in on the two-year anniversary for A Good Yarn and felt like celebrating. She needed to plan a special event to bring loads of people into the shop that day.

She glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised by how late it was. Planning for her own event would have to wait until after the meeting about the one already in the works. As she stood, she thought maybe it could even wait until tomorrow. After the Arts and Crafts Trail meeting, she just might have a date with a luxurious bath and a good book.

She was in the midst of completing the day’s tally and mentally picking out what book she wanted to read during her bath when her cell phone rang. When she saw the display, her good mood evaporated. And then she felt guilty about her immediate reaction. She shouldn’t feel dread when faced with having to talk to her mother. But then, most people probably didn’t anticipate disapproval every time they talked to their moms, either.

Not wanting to be late for the meeting, she ignored the call and let it go to voice mail. With the bank deposit in hand, she blew out the pumpkin-spice candle and headed out the door, locking it behind her.

After a quick zip to the bank to make the deposit, she walked down the street to the Tourist Bureau office. The parking lot was full of vehicles, and several people were still making their way inside. Looked like a nice turnout, which was good since the self-guided trail that was to lead tourists from one artist’s or craftsperson’s gallery or shop to the next throughout the county was set to launch in mid-October, just in time for holiday shoppers. From the moment Gina Tolbert, executive director of the Tourist Bureau, had floated the idea to Devon, she’d known she wanted A Good Yarn to be a part of the trail. She was all for anything that brought attention to local artists and people who created products through sustainable means.

She said hello to Ella Garcia and her fiancé, Austin Bryant, as she made her way into the crowded entryway. As she scooted past a knot of people who’d paused to chat, she bumped into someone.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said as she turned to see whom she’d nearly bowled over. And had to look up, right into the bright blue eyes of Cole Davis.

She swallowed as her brain chose that moment to forget its job.

“Are you okay?”

Huh? Did he say something? Oh good grief, you’re acting like an idiot, like an awkward teenager with a crush on the high school quarterback. Yes, she’d been that awkward teen, but Cole hadn’t been the quarterback. No, he’d been the star of the school’s rodeo team, and then he’d ridden his way onto the pro circuit.

“Uh, yeah,” she said, her brain finally remembering she was supposed to say something. “Fine.” She glanced around the room, pretending that she wasn’t flustered. “Crowded in here.”

“Devon, honey, good to see you.” Barbara Davis stepped up beside her son, all smiles as usual. She looked like the perfect grandmother, only without the grandchildren.

“You, too.”

Barbara motioned toward a row of chairs about halfway back the meeting room. “I found us some seats.”

Devon saw that there were three empty chairs midway down the row and realized Barbara meant for Devon to join them. Since she couldn’t come up with a polite way to refuse, she headed for the designated spot, intending to take the farthest chair so she’d have Barbara between her and Cole. Her plan was foiled a moment after Devon stepped past the first people in the row to reach her seat.

“You go next, Cole,” Barbara said. “If you sit in the other chair, poor Ella won’t be able to see anything but your back.”

Devon looked at the row behind her and noticed that Ella and Austin had indeed found seats there. Too late to make a change now without looking like a flake. Oh well, she’d just concentrate on what Gina had to say and start brainstorming ideas for her anniversary celebration.

But when Cole sank onto the chair next to her a few seconds later, she realized that if she left this meeting knowing one word Gina or anyone else said, it would be a miracle worthy of the name.

Never had she found concentrating so difficult. She focused all her attention on Gina and the report of how many participants were signed up to take part in the trail—currently fifteen—but then Cole shifted beside her. He rubbed his large, tanned, powerful-looking hand down his jean-clad thigh, and she could swear she gulped loud enough to be heard in Oklahoma.

That thigh had gripped the side of countless mean bulls during his years on the pro rodeo circuit. She remembered happening upon a competition on TV once. She’d nearly brought blood to her lip from biting it as he rode. When he’d been tossed through the air as if he weighed no more than a gnat and slammed into the dirt of the arena, she’d actually cried out, startling her cat so much that Honeysuckle had fled into the next room.

Devon dragged her attention back to what Gina was saying, something about how the trail was going to be laid out. Doing her best to ignore the man beside her, Devon made a point of taking notes on a small notepad. But she would swear she could feel Cole’s body heat. Or was that her own body temperature going whacko? It was as if he was giving off a megadose of pheromones. And for a guy who worked on a ranch, around cows and horses, he sure did smell good. Like he’d just stepped out from a shower and dried off with a fresh towel straight from the dryer.

She mentally rolled her eyes. Honestly, it wasn’t as if she never saw the man. Granted, that was usually from a safe distance.

She dragged her thoughts back to the presentation again, raising her hand when Gina asked who all was willing to do a prize giveaway on the inaugural trail weekend. Out of the corner of her eye, Devon noticed Barbara raise her hand, as well. Whoever won one of Barbara’s handmade quilts would be one lucky duck. The woman was very skilled with needle and thread and with coming up with original designs.

Devon was confused, however, when Barbara tapped her son’s hand, indicating he should raise his, as well. Did that mean Barbara was going to do two giveaways? That was beyond supportive of the town’s new venture. When Cole started to say something, Barbara shushed him as if he were still a little boy. He obediently raised his hand.

Not wanting to show how humorous she found the entire mother-son exchange, Devon pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. How cute was a guy who still minded his mama.

Stop thinking about how cute he is. Think of something else, anything else!

Like how his high school girlfriend and eventual wife, Amy Frost, had been a complete witch to Devon back when the three of them had attended Blue Falls High. Those interactions were proof that it didn’t matter how much money you had. If someone didn’t think you dressed the right way, liked the right things, befriended the right classmates, they could make your life miserable.

Of course, thinking about Amy led to a memory of Cole during that same period, a memory that had taken on enormous importance to her teenage self. Maybe it still held more than it should.

“I swear, Devon, you were born into the wrong family,” Amy had said as she sat nearly glued to Cole’s side at their lunch table. She made a dismissive gesture toward Devon’s loose cotton boho pants and oversize sweater. “You have the money to buy great clothes and you come to school looking like you picked through the donation bin at church.”

Devon swallowed hard, trying not to cry. Could she stop Amy’s barbs if she’d just wear the things her mother constantly brought home to her from Austin or San Antonio? No, she just couldn’t do it, and not only because the outfits were totally not her style. Her mother was also oblivious to the fact that they weren’t even the right size. The pants and dresses and stylish tops were made for a person three sizes smaller than Devon. It made her want to scream every time a new shopping bag showed up on her bed. What was ironic was a lot of those items ended up at the same church clothes’ closet Amy accused her of frequenting as a recipient.

“Cut it out, Amy.”

Devon’s heart skipped a bit. Had she heard Cole correctly? Had he just defended her? Not only was he so gorgeous it made Devon want to weep, but he was gallant, as well.

More evidence that Devon wasn’t like other kids her age. How many of them even had the word gallant enter their brains if it wasn’t part of their homework?

“Any questions?”

Gina’s voice and the rustling of people around her brought Devon back to the present. Heat rushed to her face because she’d allowed herself to get sucked back to those awkward, not-very-happy days of high school, complete with the accompanying feelings. She was annoyed that she had to remind herself that she wasn’t the person she’d been back then.

She glanced briefly to her right, to where Cole was pushing himself to his feet. How much of the person that Cole had been in high school still resided in him? Or had a life on the road away from Blue Falls, and eventually away from Amy, made him into a man who didn’t really resemble his younger self?

Devon shook her head and grabbed her purse. She didn’t have any business wondering such things. She’d worked hard to craft a life for herself that she enjoyed, and she didn’t need a man to make her complete. Though she couldn’t seem to get that through her mother’s head.

Along with just about everything else about herself. Her business, her clothes, her hairstyle, where she lived—you name it, her mom had something to say about it. Typically critical.

Once Devon was standing, she made eye contact with Barbara. “I take it you’re going to take part in the trail with your quilts.”

“Yes. I have a list of design ideas as long as my arm. But we mainly came for Cole.”

Devon continued to stare at Barbara, confused.

Barbara chuckled. “That look on your face says I was right to bring this one along tonight.” She patted Cole’s upper arm. “We need to get the word out about his sculptures.”

Sculptures? Devon was sure her confusion had left furrows on her forehead so deep you could plant crops in them.

“Turns out he has a real talent for making these beautiful metal sculptures,” Barbara said.

“Mom,” Cole said, sounding a little embarrassed.

Devon barely suppressed another grin.

“I don’t know that beautiful is the right word,” Cole said as he shifted his gaze to Devon. “I just weld together old scrap pieces that nobody wants.”

“Pfftt,” Barbara said with a dismissive wave. “Don’t listen to him. I stick by my assertion that his work is beautiful. You should come out to see it sometime.”

Devon caught her mouth before it fell open. The last thing she needed to do was spend more time with Cole. At least not until she managed to purge her brain of those long-ago memories of him and got used to seeing him around town again. She knew he’d been back living on his family’s ranch with his mom for a few months, but she’d probably seen only him twice.

You know it was twice—once at the Primrose Café and once when he’d been talking with Liam Parrish outside the hardware store.

She’d heard he’d retired from the rodeo circuit, but that was about it. And she hadn’t been about to start asking questions about him. That would draw too much unwanted attention and questions directed back at her.

“Mom, I’m sure Devon is busy.”

Once again, Devon pulled herself back to the present, hoping she hadn’t offended Cole by being so obviously surprised by the fact that he was an artist, one who was going to take part in the Arts and Crafts Trail.

“Maybe after the trail’s opening weekend, I’ll leave the shop in Mandy’s hands and drive it myself. It’d be good to be familiar with all the stops in case anyone asks about specifics.”

What would Cole look like working on a sculpture? Every time she’d thought of him in the years since high school, his image was always attached to rodeo and bulls. She imagined him with a welding iron, shaping pieces of metal to his will, sweat drenching his body to the point that he had to remove his shirt.

Ahhh, she couldn’t think like that. She had to get out of there before she said or did something monumentally stupid and embarrassing. A glance at the smile on Barbara’s face made Devon wonder if the older woman had some idea the route Devon’s thoughts had been traveling. Forget about embarrassing. More like mortifying.

When Ryan Teague stopped to speak to Cole and Barbara, Devon made for the exit as if the back of her pants were on fire.

She was already a few steps out the front door when she stopped. Because she’d evidently ticked off fate today, her mother was walking straight toward her and it was too late to make an escape. When Devon spotted the nice-looking man in an impeccable suit accompanying her mother, a sinking feeling appeared and immediately dropped to the bottom of Devon’s stomach.

“Devon, there you are, dear,” her mother said, too bright and cheery. Devon wondered if anyone besides her could tell that it was a facade. “I think something’s wrong with your phone. I tried to call you earlier. I thought you’d want to know so you can check on it.”

Her mother knew good and well Devon had most likely ignored the call, but this was all a show for the man beside her. He might be a perfectly nice guy, but the mere fact that Devon knew what was coming soured her on him. Not to mention he didn’t look at all like the kind of man she found attractive. His blond, perfect, high-end-magazine-ad appearance didn’t fit in here in Blue Falls, and he certainly wasn’t a good fit for Devon.

Not like Cole.

Stop thinking about him, especially in front of your mother.

Devon wasn’t entirely sure her mother didn’t have the ability to read minds. Angela Newberry just chose to ignore what she found there.

Her mother gave Devon’s outfit—white drawstring cotton pants with pale orange pinstripes and a billowy orange peasant blouse—a disdainful look that her companion couldn’t see.

“Sweetheart,” Angela said, pouring on the mother-daughter closeness act a little thick, “I didn’t want you to miss the opportunity to meet Steven Jackson. He’s an attorney for one of your father’s important customers, in town only for today. I told him he simply couldn’t leave Blue Falls without exploring the charm of our fair town.”

Devon resisted the urge to strangle her mother, instead deciding to beat her at her own game.

“I wouldn’t dream of denying you that opportunity, Mom. After all, you know more about the town than I do since you’ve lived here longer.”

The slight narrowing of her mother’s eyes told Devon she was going to pay for that comment later when Steven Jackson was nowhere near to hear it. Still, her mother didn’t listen to reason. She simply refused to believe that Devon didn’t like any of the men her mother deemed appropriate for the only daughter of one of the county’s wealthiest families.

“I can’t, dear,” her mother said. “I have a meeting that was planned before I knew Steven would be here.”

Yeah, right.

“If it’s an inconvenience, please don’t worry about it,” Steven said.

Before Devon could respond, her mother said, “Oh, nonsense. I’m sure Devon is free and would love to be your tour guide. I just heard that they have a new chef at the Wildflower Inn, too. You’ll have to try it out and let me know how the food is.”

Devon wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if poor in-the-middle Steven could see the steam coming out of her ears.

“There you are, sweetie. Sorry we got held up in there.”

Devon turned to Barbara, who’d stepped up beside her. Cole had to be close by, but Devon didn’t look for him. She wasn’t willing to risk that certain rush of heat up her neck and into her face in front of her mother.

“You ready to go?” Barbara asked Devon.

She was about to ask Barbara what in the world she was talking about when she realized the older woman was throwing her a lifeline. It didn’t matter why, Devon decided to look at it as a gift from the universe and roll with it.

“Yes.”

She could almost feel the anger radiating off her mother.

“Excuse us, Barbara, but Devon was making plans with Steven.”

Devon barely kept herself from telling her mother she was being rude. How could anyone be rude to Barbara Davis? She was as sweet as pie.

“Devon already has plans to have dinner with us,” Barbara responded. Was that a little edge to her voice? What was going on here?

Her mother’s expression revealed a moment of shock, over in less than a blink when she pasted on her fake smile. “Perhaps you can reschedule. Steven is only in town from Dallas for this evening.”

Steven looked like he wanted to be snatched up by a giant eagle and carried right out of this really uncomfortable situation. Devon didn’t blame him.

Devon sensed movement on her left a moment before someone wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Not someone. Cole.

She stiffened, afraid that if she moved he would disappear, taking his delicious warmth and fresh, clean, honest scent with him.

“You ready for dinner?” he asked. “I’m starving.”

She was starving, all right. Starving for air. Starving for a regular heartbeat. Starving for the ability to be able to look up into his eyes without revealing just how much his simple gesture was rocking her world.


Chapter Two (#ulink_f03c391d-76c9-59ff-b4ee-474a8a1bcd2f)

When Cole wrapped his arm around Devon’s shoulders, she went stiff as a fence post. He wondered if he’d made a miscalculation of how she’d respond, but then she relaxed a fraction and played along with the tale he and his mother were spinning by the seat of their pants.

Though he suspected his mother was up to something, he followed her lead. It was that or continuing to watch Devon’s mother bully her. How the older woman was treating her daughter raised his ire, the same way he was angered anytime he saw a parent belittling or mistreating a child. He’d damn near gotten himself thrown in jail up in Wyoming the time he’d intervened when he’d seen a woman grab her little girl by her ponytail and nearly drag her out of a restaurant. Thankfully, there had been enough witnesses who took his side that he’d avoided ending up behind bars. But he wouldn’t have done anything differently even if he had ended up there.

Granted, Devon was a grown woman, but that didn’t suddenly give her mother the right to embarrass her in public.

“It was nice to meet you, Steven,” Devon said, sounding sincere. “I hope you enjoy your visit to Blue Falls.”

“Thank you,” the man beside Angela Newberry said.

Cole fought the strange urge to dislike the guy, but it appeared Steven had been roped into this awkward situation unknowingly.

Angela appeared as though she was about to protest again, so Cole steered Devon away from her mother and toward the parking lot. Yes, it was partly to prevent Devon from having to endure any more pressure from her mother, but it was more so he’d remove himself from Angela’s presence before he said something that would embarrass both his mom and Devon.

“Devon,” Angela called out.

“‘Bye, Mom.” Devon threw a wave over her shoulder without looking back.

As they put distance between themselves and Angela, Devon didn’t move to extricate herself from him. Most likely it was because she knew her mother was probably staring at Devon’s back, but it felt good to have his arm wrapped around a woman again nonetheless.

Oh hell, he was not going there. If he could be sure Angela wasn’t watching them, he’d be the first to step away. The absolute last thing he needed in his life was a woman. He’d been down that path more than once, and it always ended up dead-ending in Craptown.

When they maneuvered their way to the other side of his truck, he lifted his arm away from her and let it fall to his side while he propped his other arm along the side of his truck bed.

“Thanks for the rescue,” Devon said, not making eye contact.

He wondered if she was embarrassed because he’d witnessed the disagreement between her and her mother or if it was that she’d allowed him to pose as something he wasn’t. And would never be. He might convince himself to go on the occasional date, but from now on it was going to be casual one-and-done for him. Getting serious with someone led to marriage, and he’d tried that twice already and neither had ended well. There was no third-time’s-the-charm.

“No problem,” he said.

She shifted from one foot to the other, as if she might be about to turn and leave.

“You’ll need to come out to the house now,” his mom said as she joined them.

At that, Devon looked up.

“If you don’t, your mom will find out and know this was all a ruse. Plus, it’d be nice to visit anyway. And you could see Cole’s sculptures.”

There it was, his mother’s undying belief that “the one” was still out there for him, the woman who would love him and give his mom grandchildren. He could tell her a million times that he was done with marriage and she still refused to believe him.

“Neither of those marriages worked out because neither of them was the right woman,” she’d said on more than one occasion.

He’d finally stopped wasting his breath. She’d figure it out when year after year passed by with him still single and childless. Leave it to his younger brother, Cooper, to be the provider of grandchildren. Maybe then his mom would abandon her determined hope for Cole’s happily-ever-after.

He expected Devon to decline. Instead, she nodded.

“You’re probably right. I hate that you all got sucked into the gravitational pull that is my mother’s belief she can find the perfect man for me.”

His mom made a dismissive sound. “Don’t worry about it. We were happy to help.”

In fact, his mom sounded a bit too happy. And for a moment, Cole wasn’t sure if all that barely contained glee was solely because she might have some matchmaking up her sleeve. Now that he thought about it, he remembered the occasional offhand remark from his mom about Angela Newberry that indicated she didn’t like the other woman. He hadn’t thought about it much when she’d made those remarks, but now he wondered if there was some bigger story there.

His mom clapped her hands together once. “Well, we better get going before Angela gets suspicious.”

If Devon’s mom had a lick of sense, she was already suspicious. But he guessed they had to run with this a while longer. As he slipped into the driver’s seat of his truck, he couldn’t help but glance toward where Devon was walking to her car. There was no denying she was pretty with that head full of long, curly red hair. And despite the fact that she lived in Texas, her skin wasn’t tanned. Maybe with her fair complexion she burned easily and took caution in the sun.

“She’s certainly grown into a beautiful woman, hasn’t she?”

He shifted his attention to his mom sitting in the passenger seat. “You can just stop right there.”

“What? I can’t say when I think someone’s pretty?”

He snorted. “We both know where you’re going with this, and my view on the whole idea hasn’t changed.”

His mom sighed. “Fine. Maybe you two can at least be friends. With a mom like hers, I’m sure she could use them.”

“What’s up with you and Angela Newberry anyway?”

“She’s always been too snooty for words, thinks she’s better than everyone else.”

He still thought there might be more to the story, but he also knew when his mom wasn’t going to say more on the subject. “Good enough reason for me.”

He started the truck and pulled out onto Main Street, not allowing himself to check the rearview mirror to see if a certain redhead was following.

* * *

DEVON SHOOK HER head as she followed Cole and Barbara toward their ranch. Perhaps going through with the visit was overkill, but sometimes it felt as if her mother had eyes and ears everywhere. Not for the first time, Devon wondered how her life would be different if she’d moved away from Blue Falls, hundreds or even thousands of miles away from her family.

No doubt her mom would still find a way to know everything she was doing and criticize it. To Angela Newberry, Devon had chosen a life beneath her. She was supposed to marry a man with the right pedigree according to her mom, take part in carefully chosen causes and pop out a few babies while her husband was brought into the fold at Diamond Ranch Western Wear.

Ugh. The image made her skin crawl. It wasn’t that the thought of marrying and having children repulsed her. But, funny thing, she’d like to be the one picking the husband in that scenario, preferably someone who looked at the world as she did, who wasn’t bedazzled by her parents’ money. Even the name of her parents’ huge ranch and the namesake clothing company that produced high-end Western wear for everyone from governors to famous country singers didn’t sit well with her. It sounded pretentious. She hated pretentious.

She much preferred her little sustainable farm, where she raised chickens, goats and sheep, spun wool, made goat’s-milk soap. It provided the peace and freedom from stress that she’d lacked growing up. Money often couldn’t buy you the things you wanted most. She’d even chosen a simple name for her home, Phlox Farm, because the hillside next to her house had been covered in bright purple phlox the first time she’d seen it. So unlike Diamond Ranch, where the only diamonds to be found were on her mother’s hand or in her jewelry box.

The day she’d visited her farm, it had been love at first sight. When her mother had found out where Devon was moving, she’d sworn Devon had lost her mind. Her mom didn’t realize that by saying that, it only made Devon more convinced she’d done the right thing by buying it.

She lifted her hand to shade the setting sun trying to blind her through the driver’s-side window. Leaving thoughts of the past in the past where they belonged, she focused on the pickup in front of her, and not getting so lost in her memories that she drove too close to it.

Cole looked over toward his mom, putting his strong profile on display. Devon’s heartbeat did a disconcerting fluttery thing, causing her to take a slow, deep breath to calm the rhythm. She had to purge this problematic attraction, especially if she didn’t want to trip over her own tongue and make an idiot of herself while she had to spend time at the ranch.

She nearly hit the brakes and turned around. She’d ceased letting her mother have power over her decisions years ago, and yet here she was, willing to go hide out at the Davis ranch simply because her mom was trying to fix her up again.

This wasn’t your idea.

No, but she hadn’t put the kibosh on it, either.

Good grief, she was putting too much importance on the impending visit. She liked Barbara, who was friendly and a faithful customer of the fabric section of A Good Yarn. Both she and Cole had helped her out, so the least she could do was maybe have a cup of coffee with them, take a gander at Cole’s work, say some appropriately complimentary words, then head home to that bath and book that seemed to keep getting further and further away.

Several miles north of town, Cole finally put on his left-turn signal and pulled into his family’s ranch. She wondered what it had felt like to him when he’d returned home after several years on the rodeo circuit. When he’d left right after high school, his father had been alive and his younger brother had still been at home. Now it was Cooper out riding the circuit, so Cole had come home to only his mom.

Devon’s heart went out to Barbara. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for her to lose the man she’d loved for so long, to suddenly be alone on a ranch that used to be filled with her family. Though Devon had never seen Barbara being anything other than smiling and quick with a kind word, there had to have been a lot of sad, dark, lonely days for her.

After they’d both parked, Devon hesitated a moment as Cole slid from his truck. She’d swear his jean-encased legs had gotten longer in the time it had taken to drive from town. Deciding she wasn’t going to get any less antsy sitting in her car, she got out and followed Barbara into the house, trying not to think about Cole behind her.

She almost snorted at herself. What was there to be worried about? It wasn’t as if he was checking out her curves. She wasn’t a fan of clothing that clung too tightly. Plus, didn’t guys love gorgeous blondes or long, leggy brunettes, and not someone who looked like she was the hair twin of a certain flame-haired, bow-wielding princess?

The moment she stepped inside the house, a gray, long-haired cat nuzzled against her legs.

“Looks like you already have Jasper’s seal of approval,” Barbara said.

Devon knelt and petted the cat, causing him to begin purring so loudly she laughed a little. “You’ve got quite the motor running, Jasper.”

“He thinks you’ll give him treats if he does that,” Cole said as he walked past her. “I wonder where he gets that idea.”

Devon looked up in time to see Cole give his mom a pointed look.

“I admit I spoil him, and I’m not sorry. Besides, you’re the one who gave him to me. You’re complicit.”

Devon smiled at their banter, but a part of her heart ached that she couldn’t have this with her mom. She loved her mother, but it was so difficult to be around her. But from her mother’s point of view, she wasn’t at fault for that fact. So Devon kept her distance as best she could and tried not to think about the tiny ember of hope that still burned deep inside her that one day her mom would chill out some and they could have a real, nonadversarial relationship.

“Come on in the kitchen, hon,” Barbara said, making a motion for Devon to follow her. “I just made some lemon squares earlier. Would you like one while I make dinner?”

“I’ll hold off for now, thanks. And you don’t have to feed me. I can just stay for a few minutes, then head out.”

“Nonsense. You already drove all the way out here. Might as well stay and eat. It’ll be nice to have company for dinner. I think Cole gets tired just staring at my mug at every meal.”

“I doubt that.”

“Regardless, please say you’ll stay.”

Devon hesitated for a moment, then said, “Okay, but tell me what I can do to help.”

She ended up cutting thick slices of homemade sourdough bread as Barbara prepared fresh chicken salad. Despite Devon’s hyperawareness of Cole on the other side of the room pulling dishes from cabinets and setting the table, her mouth watered at the thought of the upcoming sandwich. She hadn’t eaten much for lunch, and the homemade food looked delicious.

“I’m sorry we don’t have anything more substantial,” Barbara said as she removed a jar of pickles—likely canned from her garden—from the fridge. Next came a container of potato salad, also homemade.

“Are you kidding? This all looks wonderful.”

Barbara chuckled. “You, my dear, are easy to please.”

Devon didn’t miss the quick glance Barbara sent her son’s way. Barbara had given her an escape hatch from her mother’s matchmaking attempt, but was she trying for the same thing, albeit with a lighter, kinder touch?

Devon’s nerves ratcheted up a notch when they all sat down at the table and she found herself across from Cole. She had three choices: keep Barbara engaged in conversation throughout the entirety of the meal, focus her attention on her plate or risk being lured into Cole’s blue-eyed gaze.

“So, how’s your store doing?” Barbara asked.

Good, a safe topic.

“Really well, thankfully. I’m coming up on the two-year anniversary of my opening, so I’m thinking about having some sort of special event.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” Barbara turned her attention to Cole. “Did I tell you that Devon has her own farm where she raises goats and sheep?”

“You might have mentioned it.”

The way he said it made Devon wonder if Barbara had talked about her with Cole more than once. Though that thought was unnerving, she didn’t mind it in the way she did her mother’s persistent meddling. Maybe because she suspected that Barbara would stop any futile attempts at matchmaking if Devon asked her to.

“What do you do with the animals?” Cole asked.

That he actually sounded interested surprised her. “I use the wool to make yarn, which I color with natural dyes and put in my shop. I use the milk from the goats to make soap.”

“That stuff is a miracle for my skin,” Barbara said as she smoothed her fingertips over the back of the opposite hand.

“Sounds like you enjoy it,” Cole said to Devon.

She did, and it touched her that he was able to pick up on that. “I do, much to my mother’s chagrin.”

Now, why had she said that? Hadn’t they been witness to enough of her mother’s disdain already?

“We all have to follow our own paths,” Barbara said. “Would I have chosen a career for both of my boys that took them far away from home for months at a time and put them in danger? Probably not. But I know how much it meant to them, same as your farm and shop do to you.” Barbara patted Devon’s hand where it rested beside her plate.

An unexpected lump formed in Devon’s throat. How lucky Cole and Cooper were to grow up with such a mother. They might not have been wealthy, but they’d been rich in the ways that mattered most.

The three of them fell into a conversation about all the changes in Blue Falls over the past few years and specifically about the Arts and Crafts Trail as they finished up their dinner.

“Cole, show Devon what you’re working on,” Barbara said.

Cole looked across the table at Devon, and she wondered how many women had fallen for that face, those eyes. Who could blame them?

“Are you interested?” he asked, his tone making it sound as if he’d be surprised if she said yes.

“Yeah. I’ll admit to being curious.”

“Excellent,” Barbara said. “You two go on. I’ll take care of all this.” She gestured toward the dirty dishes.

“Let me help,” Devon said.

“Nah, I’ll have this done by the time you reach the barn.”

Devon didn’t feel she could argue more or her nervousness about being alone with Cole might become obvious. Why had she agreed to look at his sculptures? Oh yeah, she really was curious.

She smiled when Cole held the door open for her, unable to prevent the thought that he looked even more scrumptious when he was being chivalrous. But as they walked side by side toward the barn, she told herself to stop thinking that way. What was the use? What she could do was think of him as a friend. It would probably be nice to have Cole Davis as a friend. And really, who couldn’t use more friends?

“Sorry if you feel we roped you into more than you bargained for,” Cole said.

“No, not at all. I was thankful for the life preserver.”

As he opened the barn door, the look on his face made him appear as if he wanted to say something else.

Devon stopped and faced him. “What?”

“Is your mom that...persistent all the time?”

“In a word, yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

His apology, when he’d done nothing wrong, took her aback. But then it clicked that he was simply sorry she had to deal with that kind of pressure.

She shrugged. “Nothing new.” She pointed inside. “So, let’s see these sculptures your mom has been raving about like you’re the Michelangelo of Blue Falls.”

Cole snorted as he accompanied her inside. He flicked on the overhead lights as they walked into the barn. The first thing she saw was a beautiful roan horse that looked their way with large, dark eyes, a reminder that this was a working ranch even if Cole dabbled in art as a hobby.

“Who’s this handsome fella?” she asked as she approached the stall and rubbed along the silky smoothness of the horse’s jaw. It was obvious at a glance that Cole took good care of his horses.

“This here’s Duncan.” He scratched the horse between the ears.

“Duncan?”

“Named after Duncan, Oklahoma, where I won my first pro rodeo.”

“Ah. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Duncan.”

The horse sniffed at her hand then rubbed his head against her.

“He’s a big flirt,” Cole said.

“I can see that.”

“Come on.” Cole motioned for her to follow him. “My work area is back here.”

Devon did her best not to admire Cole’s physical attributes as she followed him to the back corner of the barn, where he’d knocked out the dividers between a few stalls to create a bigger space. In the middle of that space was a sculpture of a rearing horse, mane flying. It took a second look for her to realize that the whole was made up of many pieces that used to be parts of other things.

She stepped up close and slowly made her way around the horse. An old, rusty, metal tractor seat, chains, a muffler, truck rims and countless pieces she couldn’t identify shouldn’t be able to come together to make something so beautiful, but they did.

“It’s stunning,” she said, in awe of the obvious talent she would have never thought to attribute to Cole.

“That’s overstating it a bit.”

She shifted her gaze from the horse to Cole. “No, it’s not. Not everyone could do this. Heck, not everyone could even think this. If I were to see this stuff separately, there’s no way I could imagine how to put it all together to come up with something like this.”

Cole leaned against the side of the stall and crossed his arms, showcasing just how incredibly nice and tanned and strong those arms were. Yeah, she might have a thing for men’s arms.

“Well, we must be two really talented individuals then because my idea of soap is grabbing it at the grocery store.”

She shuddered, making him laugh. Her heart filled with puppies and rainbows and sparkly unicorns. Why did he have to have a sexy laugh, too? Didn’t he know she was trying to be friends, nothing more? Of course, he didn’t.

Devon shushed the conversation going on in her head and turned to look at some smaller finished pieces that sat along the back wall. A small bison, a cowboy sitting on a fence, even a starfish. She pointed to the starfish.

“This one reminds me of that game, ‘which of these is not like the others?’” She turned back toward him to see his expression dim for a moment.

“Reminds me of a vacation we had when Cooper and I were kids. Only time we went to the beach. I remember walking along holding my dad’s hand and we found a starfish. Mom still has a picture of me squatting down in the sand next to it with the goofiest grin on my face.”

Devon smiled at the image in her mind. “How did you get started doing this?”

“Would you believe rodeo?”

She turned more fully toward him. “Not connecting the dots here.”

He pushed away from the side of the stall and propped his hand atop one of the posts. “I was riding in a rodeo up in Wyoming and had some time to kill. Went to a local museum, and they had this kind of sculpture out front. A whole herd of bison. I thought it was neat, and the idea stuck with me. When I retired, I thought I’d give it a try in my spare time.”

She wondered if he was using the sculpture work to fill a void. “I was surprised when I heard you retired. You seemed like you really loved riding bulls, though personally I think it’s insane.”

Cole laughed. “You and my mom, both.” He shifted his gaze to the metal horse. “It wasn’t by choice. But my old body couldn’t take it anymore.”

His old body? From what she could tell, his body was perfectly fine. More than fine. Superfine.

Oh, stop it.

He appeared to notice her confusion. “Was thrown too many times. Doc told me that if I didn’t want to risk being paralyzed the next time I hit the dirt, I’d better hang it up.”

Sickness coiled in Devon’s stomach at the image of Cole in a wheelchair. For a man like him, it might kill him. At least kill the person he was, how he identified himself.

“I’m sorry. That sucks.”

“Yes. Yes, it does.” He stepped forward and rapped his knuckles against the metal horse’s neck. “But I stay busy so I won’t think about how I thought I had a few more good years of riding in me.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say that doesn’t work as often as you’d like.”

He looked at her with a surprised expression, eyes slightly wider, then gave a single nod. “But at least I’m still walking, right?”

She could tell he was making light of the situation when probably, deep down, he hadn’t fully come to terms with it yet. She couldn’t imagine how brokenhearted she’d be if she were to lose the farm and the shop. But they weren’t the type of friends who bared all their emotions to each other. At least not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Yay for mobility. Allows us to run away from our matchmaking mamas.” As soon as she said it, she wished she could rewind time a few seconds.

But Cole laughed. “You picked up on Mom’s intent, huh? Sorry about that. She’s got a hankering for grandkids and hasn’t accepted that she’s not going to get them from me.”

His words caused a sadness to settle on Devon. Not that she thought the two of them were going to make babies or anything, but he seemed so certain. His assertion had a finality to it that didn’t invite argument. It seemed a shame not to carry on his family line and those magnificent genes.

“You don’t like kids?”

He shrugged. “They’re fine, but I’m never getting married again. And if I had kids, I’d want to be around for them, not part of a broken family. I’d want them to have what I did growing up.”

She envied his fond thoughts of childhood. When she looked back, what overwhelmed her were feelings of inadequacy and trying to find ways to make herself feel better and less alone.

Devon resisted the urge to ask about Amy, what had happened. She didn’t even know his second wife’s name. Maybe Cole was right to steer clear of marriage after that track record, but something about that thought didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t have any real basis other than he seemed to be a nice guy and loved his mom, but Devon thought Cole Davis might make someone a good husband. But the right someone.

Like you?

No, not me.

She’d learned long ago not to expect things that would never come to fruition. Doing so only led to sadness and burning frustration.

“What about you?” he asked. “Are you anti-marriage or just anti-marrying someone your mother picks?”

“The latter. Honestly, I sometimes feel like she’s set up a dating profile for me somewhere and carefully screens all the candidates before attempting to parade me in front of them like a prize cow.”

Cole snort-laughed.

“You laugh, but I’m not exaggerating. At least your mom is sweet about her attempts.”

“Sounds like we could each use someone watching our backs.”

“I like how you think.”

“So you encourage my mom to chill on trying to find me wife number three, and I’ll play fake date when you need to get your mom off your case.”

Devon resisted gulping at the idea of a pretend date with Cole. Would she be able to hide the fact that she really found him attractive? That she wouldn’t mind if the date were real?

“You are so getting the worst end of this deal,” she said.


Chapter Three (#ulink_926e42a5-4cf6-5042-8ee2-20fb891f8a64)

After Devon left, Cole stayed in the barn to continue working on the horse sculpture. He’d been so busy on the ranch the past few days that he hadn’t found time to come out here. With Devon’s enthusiastic reaction, he found himself energized and picked up an old metal sign and began bending it to cover a part of the horse’s flank.

His thoughts drifted back to Devon. Though she attempted to joke about it, his gut told him that her mother’s treatment of her was no laughing matter. Angela Newberry was the type of woman who was used to getting what she wanted and didn’t react well when she didn’t. He’d had experience with that type and couldn’t say he liked it a whole hell of a lot.

He tried to pull up memories of Devon from high school. She’d been smart, shy, maybe heavier, but he couldn’t remember all the details. It struck him that despite their school’s small size, she’d still managed to be one of the kids you tended to overlook. Despite who her parents were, she hadn’t ruled the school as you’d expect someone in her position to do. He wondered if even then her mother was always harping on her.

She was thinner now, very pretty in a natural way. He found he liked that a lot better than the endless parade of overly made-up fakes who’d put themselves in his path. Not that Devon was doing that. In fact, he and his mother were the ones who’d dragged her out here. He was surprised by how nice it felt to be able to talk with a woman without feeling as though she expected something from him, like a ring on her finger. That Devon seemed to understand how he missed rodeo and appreciated his work made him extra glad he’d gone on instinct helping her with her mom earlier.

“You sound happy.”

He looked up at his mom striding down the middle of the barn. “Huh?”

“You were whistling.”

He was?

He placed his palm against the side of the metal horse. “Because I’m close to finishing this guy.”

“You sure it has nothing to do with our visitor?”

“Devon?”

She lifted a brow. “You see any other visitors out here tonight?”

“Saw a couple of deer up the hill a few minutes ago.”

She huffed out a sigh.

“Don’t sound so put out. We were helping your friend out of a bad situation, nothing more.”

“But she’s a lovely, sweet girl.”

“I’m sure she is, but I’ve told you I’m done.”

“You’re only thirty-three. That’s awfully young to be giving up, isn’t it?”

“Not from my perspective. You keep getting burned, you stop touching the stove.”

“Cole—”

He held up a hand to stop her. “Mom, just because you found happiness in marriage doesn’t mean everyone will. And I’m happy,” he said, because he knew that was her chief worry despite her comments about wanting grandchildren. “I’m back home ranching. I’ve found something else I like to do. I get to eat my mom’s home cooking every day. What’s not to like?”

He’d swear he saw his mom deflate a bit, like a balloon slowly losing air. He felt bad about it, but he had to stand firm or she wouldn’t quit her futile quest to find his one true love.

“Just keep an open mind, okay?”

He didn’t respond, knowing it would be a lie if he agreed.

“How about you answer a question for me?” he said. “What’s really up with you and Angela Newberry?”

“I don’t like snobs.”

“I know. But there’s more to it.”

“You’re Sherlock Holmes all of a sudden?”

“Maybe.”

His mom chuckled at that.

He let it go because he knew continuing to question his mom would be about as productive as digging a well with a measuring cup.

When his mom finally went back to the house after watching him work for a few minutes, her efforts to fix him up marched around inside his head again. Yes, Devon was nice. And she was pretty. But he’d proved he and marriage just weren’t cut out for each other. And dating someone in Blue Falls if you didn’t hope it led to a lifetime commitment just didn’t seem wise. If it ended badly—and his track record indicated it would—he couldn’t avoid seeing another Blue Falls resident the rest of his life.

So pursuing Devon? A big no-no. No matter how nice she was. Or how pretty.

* * *

DESPITE HOW TIRED she’d been when she arrived home the night before, Devon didn’t sleep particularly well. She kept thinking about her mother’s complete lack of respect for her as a person one minute and the warm, masculine feel of Cole’s arm around her shoulders the next. No matter how many times she told herself that they could only be friends, and that she should count herself lucky with that much, she couldn’t help the zing that just thinking about him caused.

Thankfully, Mandy was opening the store this morning, which gave Devon time to finish packaging a fresh supply of soap and stop by the Mehlerhaus Bakery for a cheese Danish and the biggest cup of coffee they had.

“Someone appears to need a lot of caffeine this morning,” Josephina Mehler said as she handed over the coffee.

“It’s one of those mornings where I feel like I need to swim through an ocean of coffee to get going.”

Josephina laughed. “I know that feeling.”

Work at a bakery started early. Josephina and her sister-in-law, Keri Teague, who owned the bakery, were probably the first people into downtown each morning.

She waved a goodbye and headed for the door, pausing when Talia Monroe stepped inside with her stepdaughter, Mia.

“Good morning,” Devon said. “How are you all?”

Talia smiled and placed her hand lovingly on Mia’s head. “Great, actually. We’re here for celebratory sweets. Miss Mia just had her latest checkup and got another clean bill of health.”

“Cancer-free!” Mia said with great exuberance as she threw her arms out wide.

“That’s awesome.” Devon leaned down to meet Mia’s gaze. “That is a great reason for a treat.”

An idea popped into her head, something she could do during her anniversary celebration.

“Mia, I have an idea for something to do at my store, and I was wondering if you’d give me your opinion.”

“Sure.” Mia crossed her arms, and her expression changed from gleeful, cancer-free kid to serious consideration, like she was a mini adult.

“Do you think kids like you would be interested in learning how to knit? We could do fun things that you could give as Christmas gifts.” She was making it up on the fly, but the more she said, the more she liked the idea.

“Sounds cool.” She looked up at Talia. “Could I do that?”

“I don’t see why not.” Talia met Devon’s gaze as Devon stood to her full height again. “Great idea.”

After insisting on buying Mia’s and Talia’s pastries, Devon headed to the shop feeling really good. Nothing like a jolt of coffee and learning that a sweet little girl was healthy after her struggle with the big, dreaded C word to put pep in your step. She was darn near skipping by the time she stepped into the shop.

“Good morning, Mandy,” she said in greeting to her best friend since the second grade.

Devon barely had time to detect the tense look of warning on Mandy’s face before she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Devon knew before turning that it was her mother. It was something about how the air changed near her, as if it crackled before a lightning strike.

“We need to talk about your rude behavior,” her mom said without any preamble.

“Good morning to you, too, Mom.” Devon rounded the front counter and stuffed her purse underneath it in the safe alongside Mandy’s.

“Don’t be smart with me.”

“If you’re here about your sneak attack on me yesterday, you can save your breath.”

“Attack? That’s what you call my having your best interests in mind when I introduce you to a handsome, successful young man?” Angela shifted her attention to Mandy. “Dear, don’t you have somewhere else you can be?”

“I work here, remember?”

Devon bit her lip, trying not to laugh. In the past, her mother had first scared Mandy, then hurt her feelings. The fact that Mandy hadn’t had much money growing up, had been the daughter of a single mother who had to work three jobs to make ends meet, had made her an inappropriate friend for Devon, according to her mother.

“Your father and I have an image to uphold. It’s what your father’s customers expect,” she’d said when Devon was only nine. “Some people just don’t fit into our world.”

Our world. Even at that young age, Devon had known her mother was a snob. And despite the fact that her mother scared her, too, Devon had refused to stop being friends with Mandy. In fact, they’d become inseparable. When Devon had reached high school, her mother had blamed Mandy for Devon’s lack of popularity. The woman hadn’t been able to see that she was the reason.She’d driven her only daughter into a self-protective shell built from books, crafts, baggy clothes and lots of comfort food.

Her mother looked exasperated as she shifted her piercing gaze back to Devon. “You embarrassed me yesterday. I had to try to explain away your rudeness.”

“I wasn’t rude. I was perfectly cordial to Steven because I figured he got dragged into the situation with no clue about the backstory.” Devon braced her palms against the top of the counter. “I’ve told you over and over to stop trying to fix me up with these men you deem appropriate. I’m not interested.”

“Which just proves that you don’t know what’s best for you. I mean, seriously, Cole Davis? Please tell me you’re not dating him.”

Devon detected a barely contained sound of shock from Mandy. She’d have to explain everything when her mom finally vacated the premises.

“There’s nothing wrong with Cole.”

“He has nothing to offer you.”

“At least he isn’t trying to make me something I’m not.”

Her mother opened her mouth to speak again, but she instantly transformed her expression to one of perfectly crafted cordiality when the mayor came through the front door.

But before her mother could say anything, Devon beat her to it. “Good morning, Karen.”

Mayor Karen Tompkins smiled. “Good morning.”

Devon noticed the way her mother’s expression shifted back to one that promised another scolding, but Devon chose to ignore her, at least for the moment.

“What can I help you with?”

Karen pointed toward the large candles. “I need something that will make my office smell like anything other than the plumbing work they’re finally doing.”

After Devon helped Karen select a large lemon-scented candle and accepted her payment, the mayor hurried off to make an early meeting with several other mayors from throughout the Hill Country.

“You do realize it’s appropriate to address Mayor Tompkins by her title?” Angela said the moment the front door closed behind Karen.

It was the last straw. Devon rounded on her mother. “And you do realize that I’m not a child who has to live under your overbearing thumb anymore, right?”

Devon suspected she should feel ashamed of talking to her mother in such a way, but she didn’t. In fact, seeing the anger burning in her mother’s eyes gave her a sense of empowerment that didn’t often make an appearance when she was around her mom.

“Mark my words. You will regret talking to me this way when you want my help. You’ll realize that you’ve made a lot of mistakes and that I’ve been right all along.”

“I doubt that.”

“Remember you said that when your choices lead to failure and heartbreak.”

Devon started to make a retort, feeling like she was on a roll, but her mother lifted her hand to stop her.

“If nothing else, at least find someone who isn’t so...” Her mom made a face, as if she thought Cole might smell like horse manure.

“What, Mom? Beneath me?” Well, that brought up an interesting image in her head, one she simply could not indulge while facing her mother. “Cole is a good man, and you’re just going to have to get used to seeing us together.”

Her mother shook her head and strode out of the shop without another word. Devon wasn’t fooled into thinking her mother had suddenly given up, though. She also wasn’t fooled that her mom’s displeasure with Devon’s choices had much to do with Devon at all. No, her mother was more worried about how those choices reflected on her and the precious family name. Sometimes Devon wondered if her mom thought she was royalty and shouldn’t mix with the commoners.

Devon sank onto a tall stool behind the counter, already exhausted and the day had barely started. A few ticks of the clock on the wall behind her went by before she noticed that Mandy was staring at her with her mouth slightly parted.

“You’re dating Cole Davis? How exactly did that happen? And why didn’t you tell me?” The pitch of Mandy’s voice went up with each question.

Devon shook her head. “I’m not really dating Cole.”

“But...you just told your mother that you were. How long do you think it’s going to take before that gets around?”

“After her objections, do you really think she’d start spouting it to everyone on Main Street?”

“No, but I can see her cornering Cole and telling him to stay away from you because you’re destined to be the wife of a future governor or something.”

The sinking feeling in Devon’s stomach was almost audible.

“And how in the world did she get this idea in the first place?” Mandy asked.

Trying to quell the feeling that she’d just taken a nosedive into quicksand, Devon recounted what had happened the previous evening at the meeting and then out at the Davis ranch.

“Dang,” Mandy said when she was finished, sounding disappointed.

“What’s that mean?”

“I was hoping maybe you were actually sneaking around with Cole. That dude is hotter than a grill on the Fourth of July.”

Devon couldn’t disagree, but she shook her head at the idea of them dating. “And us actually being a couple is about as likely as igloos being built next to that grill.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Mandy—”

“Don’t Mandy me. You’re smart, successful, fun, beautiful.”

“I appreciate the best-friend pep talk, but it doesn’t help me out of this mess I’ve obviously made.”

I’ll play fake date when you need to get your mom off your case.

Cole’s words echoed in her head. Had he really meant it, or was he just joking around? Would he maybe agree to fake it for just long enough for her mom to get wrapped up in some project that would give Devon some peace for a while? Could she fake it without letting him know that she really did find him incredibly attractive?

But her mother’s insistence that she knew what was best for Devon ate at her, driving her toward doing something she’d normally never do. As a rule, she despised lying, but nothing she said or did ever seemed to make a dent in her mother’s determination to run Devon’s life for her.

“What’s that expression?” Mandy asked. “It feels like I’m watching a plan come together.”

“I need to make a phone call.” Before she could chicken out, Devon grabbed her cell from her purse and hurried to the storeroom, ignoring Mandy’s parade of questions.

Once she stepped behind the curtain that hid the storage room from the rest of the store, her hands shook so much that she nearly dropped her phone. What she was considering was a totally crazy idea, right? She was sure to say or do something to give herself away. How could she possibly hide the fact that, yes, Cole Davis was indeed as hot as a grill on the Fourth of July? If that grill was on the face of the sun.

But was faking it a little while any worse than allowing her mother to know that she’d lied to her about Cole? She leaned back against the wall and brought her palm to her forehead. Why couldn’t she have been like most kids who grew up with overbearing parents and moved far, far away once she was old enough? Why did she have to love Blue Falls and its people? Want to make her life here? Could fake-dating Cole for a while finally get her mother to stop meddling in her life?

Only one way to find out. She took a deep breath and started to dial Cole’s number, only to realize she didn’t have it. She could have taken that as a sign that her plan was a really bad idea. Instead, she remembered the list of trail participants she’d gotten the night before and how Gina had showed them how all the contact information for the artists and craftsmen was on a dedicated page of the Tourist Bureau’s website. One quick search later, and she was looking at Cole’s number.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she called Cole and almost hoped he wouldn’t answer. Instead, he picked up on the second ring.

“Hello?” Cole said a second time, with that decrease in friendliness that said he thought perhaps it was a telemarketer on her end of the call.

“Oh, hey. It’s Devon Newberry.”

“Hey. What can I do for you?”

“Um, well, you remember how you said you’d...that you might be willing to go out on a fake date to help me out with my mom? Yeah, how serious were you about that?”

The hesitation on the other end of the call made Devon’s stomach churn. Oh God, she’d made a horrible mistake, just as her mother had predicted.

No, she couldn’t let her mom be right.

“I might be convinced to hang out if there was some pizza involved.”

Devon couldn’t help the relieved laugh that escaped her. “Buddy, I will buy you whatever kind and however many pizzas you want.”


Chapter Four (#ulink_dd5cdf26-ebb9-5d8f-9fa2-058f195acd28)

Cole stood in front of his closet, wondering what he’d gotten himself into. This wasn’t a real date, so no need to dress like it was. But to help Devon out with her mom, he needed to expend at least a little thought on what to wear so he didn’t look like he’d arrived straight from working in the barn all day.

“Wear the blue one.”

He looked toward his bedroom door to see his mom pointing toward his open closet.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he said. “We’re just doing this so Angela will lay off Devon for a while.”

“Hate to tell you, but I doubt Angela will stop trying to foist some fancy suit-wearing guy on Devon, even if you two convince her that you’re really a couple. And if you’re convincing enough, who’s to say it might not become real?”

Again, why had he agreed to this? He needed Devon to fulfill her end of the bargain as well by telling his mom their “dating” was totally fake, that he truly had no interest in getting serious with anyone ever again. In hindsight, he realized he hadn’t thought his offer through before opening his mouth. His deal with Devon would have worked better in a sizable city where they didn’t know everyone in town and gossip hadn’t been perfected to an art form.

He wore a green shirt, instead. One a couple of years old but still presentable. As best he could guess, it walked the line between not feeding the hopes his mom had of marrying him off again while also not embarrassing Devon.

And he was giving a damn shirt way too much thought.

After he finished dressing, he headed for the front door. His mom was sitting in the living room working on her latest quilt. When she looked up, she just shook her head. She didn’t need to say what she was thinking—that he was being deliberately stubborn.

Reining in a grin, he walked over and dropped a kiss atop her head.

“Be back in a while,” he said.

“Take your time.”

He had too many things to do to spend too much time on this fake date. He suspected Devon did as well and probably resented having to spend the time and tell the lie her mother had forced her into. Despite his mom’s tendency to try to fix him up, he realized he’d gotten darn lucky in the mom lottery. If he’d had a mother like Angela, he doubted he would have ever come back home. It made him wonder why Devon had stuck around Blue Falls. She could have started her business and had her farm in a million different places, and yet she’d stayed.

If he thought about it, maybe his leaving a family with whom he got along well made about as much sense.

When he reached Gia’s Pizza in town, he spotted Devon sitting in a booth toward the back working on a tablet computer as she sipped on what looked like a glass of water. Should he have picked her up? Meeting here seemed more like friends getting together, which of course was more accurate even though he wasn’t sure they were technically friends yet.

But if tonight was supposed to help convince her mother that they were dating, he should have picked her up, opened the door for her. Too late now. He’d just be sure to pay the check.

She looked up as he approached and smiled a little, almost as if she was uncomfortable. Before he had a chance to say anything, she spoke.

“Sorry about this,” she said as she slid the tablet to the side.

“About what?”

“Pulling you into this mess.”

He waved off her concern. “Don’t worry about it. Doesn’t take a lot of arm-twisting to get me to come eat some pizza.”

She sat back against her side of the booth. “Figured you were more of a classic meat-and-potatoes kind of guy.”

“Wouldn’t argue with that either, but you get used to eating what’s fast on the road. Burgers, fries, pizza.”

“Heart attack waiting to happen.”

“I think my mom agrees with you. I’ve noticed a lot of vegetables on my plate since I moved home.”

“So you’re King of the Green Bean now?”

“Among other things. Let’s just say this will be a treat.”

Devon lowered her gaze just as their teenage waitress slid menus in front of them.

“What kind of pizza do you like?” he asked Devon.

“Pretty much anything. I’d say no to anchovies, but no need since I’m almost certain an anchovy has never crossed the city limits of Blue Falls.”

“I’d say that’s a safe bet.”

When she insisted that she truly didn’t care what kind of pizza they got, he went for a classic pepperoni.

When the waitress left, he leaned his forearms on the table. “So what did your mom do that prompted the quick call?”

“Showed up at my shop to chastise me for being rude to her and Steven.”

“Pot, meet kettle.”

“Exactly,” she said as if relieved she’d finally found someone who understood where she was coming from.

“Has she always been on your case like this?”

Devon laced her fingers together atop the table, and for a moment he thought she might not answer.

“Unfortunately, yes. Not always about whom I should date, but there was always something.”

He realized this was a bit of a heavy conversation for a first date, even if it was all an act. Still, it didn’t seem forced at all.

“Why did you stay here?”

“In Blue Falls?”

He nodded.

“I’ve asked myself that I don’t know how many times, but the short answer is that I love it here, always have, and I hated the idea of leaving my friends.”

He thought she must really like the town and her friends to put up with her mother trying to run her life, but he didn’t say it.

“I always thought you’d go off to a big city somewhere and do something like cure cancer or become a bestselling writer.”

She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“What would make you think I’d do either of those things?”

“You were so good at school, in every subject. Blowing the curves for everyone.”

When Devon lowered her gaze to the tabletop, he realized how that must have sounded.

“Which wasn’t your fault. The rest of us just should have studied more.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind that I was a bookworm. I still am. Being a nerd is cool now, don’t you know?”

She said the words, but he wasn’t sure there wasn’t some hurt there anyway.

“Did your mom make you study a lot?”

“She expected good grades, but...let’s just say that kids who aren’t popular often retreat into books. It’s our happy place.”

It was a strange thought, her being unpopular while also being probably the wealthiest kid at their school. He guessed it shouldn’t be so surprising. Some of the happiest people he’d ever met probably hadn’t had ten bucks in their pocket. Still, the faded memories of her from high school—shy, withdrawn, bookish—made him wonder if she’d been unhappy. If books were her happy place, did that mean the real world was the opposite?

“I’m sorry if I was ever a jerk to you in school.”

She looked up at him and shook her head. “You weren’t. Can’t say the same for your girlfriend, though.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Devon’s eyes widened and her lips parted in surprise, as if she hadn’t intended to voice her thoughts out loud.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “That was rude.”

“Not at all. In fact, I agree with you. I was just too stupid to realize it until about a year into our marriage. I stuck it out another year, hoping in vain I hadn’t been so wrong about her.”

“What happened?”

“You mean besides the fact that once we left high school and she was no longer the center of attention, she couldn’t handle it and blamed me?”

“Oh, ouch.”

He shrugged. “We were young and dumb.”

“Where is she now?”

“Last I heard, she was in California. Every time I see her mom in town, I do my best to steer clear.”

“She’s mad at you?”

“I’d rather not find out.”

“Sounds like we both have locals we need to put GPS trackers on.”

Cole laughed. “Not a bad idea. Maybe I’ll put one on my mom while we’re at it.”

“But your mom is so sweet.”

“And just as determined to find me a wife. Been down that road twice, not going to try for a third.”

Devon nodded but didn’t say anything. What was there to say? It was just nice to talk to a woman who actually understood where he was coming from. This whole fake-dating thing might be just what he needed. Who better to convince his mom that he was done with matrimony than a woman she liked and respected? One she obviously hoped he might make wife number three.

* * *

THERE WAS NO doubt in Cole’s voice whatsoever when he said he was done with marriage. Despite the fact that this date wasn’t real and Devon knew there was no future with someone like Cole, she couldn’t help the feeling of sadness that filled her at his proclamation. Cole Davis seemed like a good guy, a hard worker, someone who took a hit to his life plan and forged a different path, not to mention he was as sexy as the summer solstice was long. The fact that he’d sworn off a chance at happily ever after at such a young age was a damn shame.

“So, what happened with your second wife?”

“It didn’t work out.”

The tightening of Cole’s features and the way he looked away from her and across the restaurant told her this was one topic he wasn’t interested in pursuing. Which of course made her intensely curious. But if he didn’t want to talk about it, she’d respect that. There were certainly things in her life that she’d rather leave in the past, as well.

Their pizza arrived, momentarily interrupting their conversation. It distracted Cole long enough for her to hide any thoughts she might have had regarding him, her and a walk down the aisle. That was crazy anyway. Helping each other out was one thing. Letting herself imagine it turning into something deep and meaningful was quite another.

“What about you?” Cole asked as he pulled a large slice of pizza onto his plate. “You want to get married and have kids someday?”

“I’m not opposed to it, but Mr. Right hasn’t come along yet.” She would not wonder if Cole could turn into that Mr. Right. Hard to achieve a happily-ever-after when one of the parties didn’t believe those existed. Not that he’d want to be with her even if he hadn’t sworn off marriage.

“You believe in that kind of thing, that there’s a Mr. Right out there for you?”

She shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. At the moment, I’m more interested in this pizza and making sure my mom thinks our little farce is the beginning of a long and beautiful romance.”

Devon made sure to smile and add some dramatic effect to her words so Cole wouldn’t guess that at least part of her wouldn’t mind seeing where a real relationship might take them.

The conversation veered away from their respective views on holy matrimony and into a discussion about what he was working on.

“It’s amazing,” she said, thinking of the look she’d gotten at the horse statue in progress. “My brain just isn’t wired that way, to be able to see something beautiful and artistic made out of something that is neither. Ella Garcia has the same ability you do.”

“Everybody’s good at something different. Most people can’t do what you do.”

“But they could if they tried. If you gave me ten pieces of scrap metal, you know what I’d do with them?”

“Take them to the dump?”

“Recycling, and probably cut myself and get tetanus in the process.”

By the time they’d finished eating all the pizza they wanted and she’d convinced him to take the leftovers home with him, Devon had relaxed from her initial nervousness. Cole was oddly easy to talk to. She knew plenty of guys, and would consider several friends, but none would fall into the category of close friends, not like her and Mandy. She wondered if maybe their charade would lead to a true friendship between her and Cole. Despite being attracted to him, she found she liked the idea.

She instinctively started to pull her wallet from her purse.

“Put that back,” Cole said. “We’re supposed to be on a date, remember?”

“Plenty of people go Dutch on dates.”

“You think that will convince your mom we’re a couple?”





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