Destined to Be a Dad

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#ulink_f21d1485-81bd-5735-8380-4b0c58c50d63)

“Wankers! You cowboys promised to take me to Liam Murphy, not show me the back side of some bloody barn!”

The lilting British accent, rarely heard here in the small town of Destiny, Wyoming, floated on the hot August morning breeze. It came from somewhere behind him and despite the voices bickering on the other end of this endless phone call—and the fact she’d said his name—the inflection kicked Liam square in the gut.

He should have been used to it by now.

His family’s business, Murphy Mountain Log Homes, was celebrating its twentieth year in business with a growing following in the United Kingdom, thanks to securing a contract to build a log home—scratch that, a twenty-thousand-square-foot log mansion—for a popular movie actor based in Scotland.

Meaning as company president, Liam spent a lot of time on the phone and in meetings with people who spoke the Queen’s English. Still, whenever he heard that soft and silvery accent spoken by a female voice, it never failed to take him back.

To another place, another time when he’d thought he could have it all.

Aw, hell, that was a lifetime ago.

“Are you daft?” The girlish voice came again, cutting into Liam’s thoughts. “Not bloody happening!”

Hmm, not so soft this time.

She sounded young and her words were angry, but there was a hint of fear laced through as well. Liam didn’t know what was going on, but he had a pretty good idea.

Ending his call, he pocketed his phone, backtracked a few steps and headed for the far end of a nearby barn.

The first-ever Destiny rodeo was in full swing, and campers and horse trailers filled this area of the fairgrounds. It’d taken a lot of hard work by a lot of people to pull this event together. His family’s company was a major sponsor, and while it might only be a one-day event, the prize money was good, ensuring participants and fans alike packed the arena and the town.

The last thing they needed was trouble.

Liam spotted the trio as soon as he rounded the corner. Dressed in jeans, plaid shirts and Stetsons, two cowboys stood with a young girl sandwiched between them. He wasn’t sure about the men, but the female definitely looked to be under eighteen. That made the six-pack of beer held by one of the cowboys—who didn’t have a valid alcohol wristband—even more of a concern. And it wasn’t even noon yet.

“Come on, darlin’. Let’s enjoy a cold brew in our camper.” One of the cowboys encircled the girl’s waist with his arm. “Then we’ll track down that Murphy guy for ya.”

“No need to go far.” Liam kept his voice light as he strolled toward the group, despite his anger spiking at the scene before him. “I’m right here.”

The three jerked around, surprise on the faces of the cowboys, relief in the girl’s eyes. And there was something else about their dark navy coloring that hit him as hard as her voice had.

“What can I help you with?” he continued, joining their circle. “Something related to the rodeo, perhaps?”

The first cowboy took a step back, dropping his hold on the young girl, whose gaze darted from the booklet she held to Liam and back again. Twice.

Liam looked down and saw she had the rodeo program folded back to the pages that featured his photo. Great. That’s why she was looking for him.

He and his brothers had all grown up on horseback, competing in local rodeos before they were even teenagers. But it’d been Liam who’d made it to the professional circuit as a saddle bronc rider when he’d turned eighteen, finishing in the top five at the National Rodeo Finals his first two years out. His third—and what would end up being his final—season had ended early when he destroyed his left shoulder. He never rode professionally again.

That had been thirteen years ago.

When the Destiny rodeo committee had wanted him for the cover of the program based on his past accomplishments, he’d balked but finally given in and agreed to be included inside, never thinking they’d make him a damn centerfold.

“Ah, Mr. Murphy, we were j-just looking for you,” the younger of the two cowboys said.

So now he was Mr. Murphy. Well, that could work in his favor. “What’s with the beer?” Liam gestured at the kid with the six-pack under his arm. “You’re not twenty-one.”

“I, um...”

“It’s mine. He’s carrying it for me,” said the taller cowboy, giving his left hand a quick shake before he dropped his hands to his side and planted his feet in a wide stance. “We’re on our way back to our camper.”

Liam turned, picking up on the wristband and the attitude. At thirty-four, the last thing he needed was a roll in the dirt with a kid more than a decade younger than him. “Then I suggest you carry it. Be less trouble that way.”

Their gazes held for a long moment, but the cowboy backed down, making a show of taking the alcohol, and then slapped the younger guy on the shoulder. “Come on, bro. Let’s get out of here.”

Liam watched them leave, making a mental note to check in with the sheriff. Gage Steele and his deputies were patrolling the fairgrounds, but Liam hadn’t seen anyone back this way yet.

He turned his attention back to the girl. Shoulder-length blond hair, streaked with bright patches of blue and pink, fell over her face as she stood studying the program again. “Are you okay?” he asked. “They didn’t hurt you?”

She lifted her gaze, her eyes raking from the top of his Stetson to the tips of his boots before she looked him in the eye. “Are you really him?”

A bit uncomfortable at her scrutiny, Liam looked at where she jabbed a finger at the picture of his winning ride that first year. “Yes, but that was a long time ago.” He spotted a small duffel bag lying nearby in the grass. Moving past her, he grabbed it. “Is this yours?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

He watched her walk toward him, studying her again and wondering if there might be another reason she’d been looking for him. She was pretty, if one got past the crazy-colored hair, dark eye makeup and...was that a diamond chip on the side of her nose?

She had a slew of earrings dangling from both ears, her black T-shirt displayed a bright purple skull surrounded by flowers and she wore skintight jeans tucked into brown leather boots accented with bright turquoise embroidery that looked new.

Brand-new, from the way she hobbled. “You buy those today?”

She nodded, looking at her feet. “Not hard to spot, huh? They hurt bloody awful.”

Her accent pulled at him again, making him frown. “The vendor should’ve given you a pair of boot socks.”

“They did.” She shrugged. “But I already had socks. See?”

Balancing on one foot, she tried to pull the other from inside the boot but gasped, a wince creasing her features, and she froze.

“I think we should get you to the first-aid tent,” Liam said, looking at the row of vendors not too far away. The tent set up by the local clinic was at the end closest to them. “Can you make it there?”

“Do I have a choice?” She yanked the bag from his grip and started to shuffle across the grass, the frightened girl from moments ago long gone. “Last time I listen to an American cowboy. They’re all a bunch of nutters.”

“Not all of us.” Liam joined her, grinning at her quicksilver mood change. She reminded him of his niece, Abby, who had turned sixteen earlier this year. His older brother had his hands full with that one, not to mention his twin sons, who were a few years younger. “You need to be more careful who you make friends with.”

“Ya think? Jeez, you sound just like my—oh!” She stumbled, one boot catching on a rock, but she caught herself before ending up on her backside. “Bollocks! That hurt!”

“Can I make another suggestion?”