Courtship In Granite Ridge

Courtship In Granite Ridge
Barbara McCauley

WANTED: ONE HUSBANDEven tight-lipped loner Hugh Slater couldn't let a good woman marry a ranch-hungry stranger she'd met through an ad in the local paper! So he'd come back to Granite Ridge, Texas, the town he swore he'd never step foot in again. He'd talk some sense into Kasey Donovan, then be gone by morning. But shooing away would-be husbands - and himself - was harder than Hugh thought. Kasey had grown into one beautiful, lush woman… .The only man Kasey wanted was handsome, sexy Hugh Slater - whom she'd secretly, passionately loved since she was fourteen years old. Yes, his heart was heavy with the past, but maybe, just maybe, the desire she saw burning in his eyes would prove stronger… .

Excerpt (#u5213c1a1-8440-5ae5-85c4-891291fc4e74)Letter to Reader (#u506f8974-5043-5809-8238-dcd6a570a0df)About the Author (#uf35361c7-18b7-5997-8ac3-20746aec9ed5)Title Page (#uc4054908-a10d-506a-9ac7-af6ee8e8c272)Chapter One (#u16e355d9-2e00-5bf2-a339-5314bd070e4a)Chapter Two (#u1380abbc-881d-525c-ae5d-f16c3b829d5b)Chapter Three (#u6a468cc3-5632-59db-809f-4c0a6fce1a6b)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)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)Teaser Chapter (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Her Breath Caught. It Couldn“t Be Him. It Wasn’t Possible.

“Slater?”

“Yeah, Kasey, it’s me.”

Years fell away. She felt seventeen again. Her knees shook as she moved closer and studied his face. Older, a few more lines. He was more rugged, his dark hair a little longer. Different, but so familiar.

“Aw, hell, Kasey.” Slater shook his head as he opened his arms. “Come here, will you?”

With a nervous laugh, she moved into his arms. Tears gathered in her eyes and she blinked them back. He was solid muscle against her, his scent masculine. His touch made her dizzy. How could he have this effect on her after all these years?

She’d obviously never gotten over him. How could she protect her heart a second time around?

Dear Reader,

February, month of valentines, celebrates lovers—which is what Silhouette Desire does every month of the year. So this month, we have an extraspecial lineup of sensual and emotional page-turners. But how do you choose which exciting book to read first when all six stories are asking Be Mine?

Bestselling author Barbara Boswell delivers February’s MAN OF THE MONTH, a gorgeous doctor who insists on being a full-time father to his newly discovered child, in The Brennan Baby. Bride of the Bad Boy is the wonderful first book in Elizabeth Bevarly’s brand-new BLAME IT ON BOB trilogy. Don’t miss this fun story about a marriage of inconvenience!

Cupid slings an arrow at neighboring ranchers in Her Torrid Temporary Marriage by Sara Orwig. Next, a woman’s thirtieth-birthday wish brings her a supersexy cowboy—and an unexpected pregnancy—in The Texan, by Catherine Lanigan. Carole Buck brings red-hot chemistry to the pages of Three-Alarm Love. And Barbara McCauley’s Courtship in Granite Ridge reunites a single mother with the man she’d always loved.

Have a romantic holiday this month—and every month—with Silhouette Desire. Enjoy!

Melissa Senate

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269 Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

About the Author

BARBARA McCAULEY was born and raised in California, and has spent a good portion of her life exploring the mountains, beaches and deserts so abundant there. The youngest of five children, she grew up in a small house, and her only chance for a moment alone was to sneak into the backyard with a book and quietly hide away.

With two children of her own now and a busy household, she still finds herself slipping away to enjoy a good novel. A daydreamer and incurable romantic, she says writing has fulfilled her most incredible dream of all—breathing life into the people in her mind and making them real. She has one loud and demanding Amazon parrot named Fred and a German shepherd named Max. When she can manage the time, she loves to sink her hands into fresh-turned soil and make things grow.

Courtship In Granite Ridge

Barbara McCauley

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

One

“Hugh Slater, you need to git yerself a woman.”

With a silent groan, Slater kept his nose buried in his newspaper and ignored Digger Jones, hoping that the silver-bearded owner of the Hungry Bear Café would move on to badger another customer. It had been a long, hot day, and all Slater wanted to do was catch up on a week’s worth of mail and newspapers and eat his meal in peace.

No such luck.

“Did you hear me, son?” Digger slid the blue plate special—a two-inch thick T-bone with mashed potatoes smothered in home-style gravy—across the Formicatopped table and slapped down a plate of steaming biscuits. “I said you need to git yerself a woman.”

“Didn’t see them on the menu,” Slater replied dryly, keeping his attention on his paper as he reached for a biscuit

“Don’t you wisecrack me in my own establishment, boy.” Digger straightened his remarkably fit seventytwo-year-old, six-foot-three frame and sniffed indignantly. “You might be bigger and younger than me, but I can still whoop your butt. Just giving a little friendly advice, that’s all.”

Everyone in Cactus Flat knew that one of Digger’s meals always came with advice or criticism, most often both. They also knew—as did Digger—that there was no place to get a better steak or apple cobbler in all of West Texas. And since Slater had his eye on a piece of that cobbler after his meal, he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

Digger, on the other hand, didn’t.

“’Bout time you settled down, son.” Digger ignored the ring of the cook’s bell that the next order was up. “What are you, thirty-two, thirty-three?”

“Thirty-four.” Not that it mattered, Slater thought irritably. He had no intention of “settling down.” Not now. Not ever. Even the ten months he’d been here in Cactus Flat working as foreman on the Stone Creek Oil rigs was a record for him. He was feeling anxious lately, restless. He knew it was time to move on and had already accepted a new job in Alaska on a rig there. Stone Creek Oil was on a month hiatus after ten months of nonstop drilling on four rigs, and Slater figured now was as good a time as any to leave. He’d planned on telling Jared Stone today, but Jared, who was not only his boss, but also his friend, wasn’t going to like it.

“Thirty-four? That old, huh?” Digger shook his head pitifully. “Man your age needs a sweet young thing and a passel of kids to come home to every night.”

Slater frowned and glanced at Digger over the top of his newspaper. “I don’t see a ring on your hand.”

“Exactly my point.” Digger emphasized his statement by pointing a long, thick-knuckled finger. “I spent my life prospecting one claim after another, moving from one mine to the next, just like you with your oil wells. I was a damned fool. Don’t want to see the same thing happen to you, boy, that’s all.”

“Hey, Cupid, you gonna jack the jaw all night?” Floyd Perkins bellowed from the corner booth. “A man could grow old waitin’ for a cup a coffee ’round here.”

“Somethin’ wrong with your legs, Perkins?” Digger hollered back. “Slater and me are having a conversation.”

“Sounds more like you’re the one having the conversation,” Floyd grumbled. “Why don’t you leave that poor boy to read his paper and eat his meal in peace?”

“What paper you reading that’s so dang interesting?” Digger squinted and leaned close. “The Granite Ridge Gazette. Why in tarnation you readin’ that? Granite Ridge is five hundred miles from here.”

Slater ground his back teeth together. He should have known better than to expect any privacy here. What he read and why was his business, and he had no intention of sharing that business with anyone—especially Digger Jones.

“You know somebody there?” Digger kept on. “I hear they got some fine horse ranches down that way, especially quarter horses. Joe Stovall bought two cutters from a fellow named—” he rubbed thoughtfully at his chin “—hell, what was his name...Jack something...”

Slater braced himself.

The cook’s bell rang persistently, cutting off Digger’s train of thought. He turned sharply and growled at the intrusion. “All right, already. I’m coming. Stop yer clanging.”

With a sigh of relief, Slater watched Digger shuffle off, then settled back into the booth, struggling to fit his long legs under the tabletop. He stared at the paper in front of him, at the familiar names and faces.

Granite Ridge.