Mail Order Cowboy

“[A] story with emotional depth, intense heartache and love that is hard fought for and eventually won.... This is a book readers will be telling their friends about.”

—RT Book Reviews on Brokedown Cowboy

“Yates’s thrilling seventh Copper Ridge contemporary proves that friendship can evolve into scintillating romance.... This is a surefire winner not to be missed.”

—Publishers Weekly on Slow Burn Cowboy (starred review)

“This fast-paced, sensual novel will leave readers believing in the healing power of love.”

—Publishers Weekly on Down Home Cowboy

Contents

Cover (#udd598f3b-642a-53cf-8c8e-a09995d720a4)

Back Cover Text (#u120a8b1a-39e3-5165-a38b-13eabeb21257)

Booklist (#uab93e2ba-3686-5e1d-b72c-b4d26910dd77)

Title Page (#u4514fc9f-3b0a-50be-85b1-3be139dbfe4a)

Copyright (#u59c4646f-5a39-5a1d-9a7c-3274423c0884)

Praise (#u763dca06-ad53-5ceb-8192-24bb758e1b35)

CHAPTER ONE (#u13444cf8-64b4-5c82-9af6-7ee04c2d8838)

CHAPTER TWO (#u785a74c6-3028-5670-8107-2ee9d549bdae)

CHAPTER THREE (#ub95a9c18-4571-58b7-8367-43b07c79c730)

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)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#u5424b4bb-6c4d-5d08-acd8-dcc5ad33fa1b)

JACKSON REID KNEW what he liked. He liked riding the perimeter of his family ranch, liked working from sunup to sundown until his muscles ached and his body was worn out. He liked drinking. And he liked women.

Women were the reward for all that work he did.

Work hard, drink hard, fuck hard.

He had no intention of settling down, no intention of changing. If he could die on the back of a horse, or with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand, or in the bed of a beautiful woman? Any of those things would be a fitting end for him. So why in hell would he change his life? He was on the path to any one of those ends, which meant he was on the right path for him.

His stepmother didn’t approve, but she’d moved away from Gold Valley six months ago, and his father was dead. So there wasn’t anyone around to mourn the fact that he wasn’t after marriage or babies.

He’d worked damn hard that day, like he did every day. It was pouring down rain and he’d been soaked to the bone by the time he’d come in. He’d had a hot shower, and now he was about to get down to the drinking. But that was when he heard a knock on his door.

He stood up, ambled over to the door and opened it. For a moment, he thought the sex had been delivered right to him. There was a blonde on his doorstep, bundled up against the cold and the wet.

Then he realized a few things. The first being that he recognized her. The second that she was tearstained and miserable. The third...that she wasn’t as bundled as she had initially appeared.

She was holding a blanket. And in the blanket was a baby.

“I can’t do it,” she said. “I thought I could, but I can’t.”

“Sasha?” That was her name. He vaguely remembered her from a liquor-soaked night quite a few months ago.

More than nine months ago, as a matter of fact.

Hell.

While that realization was rolling over him, she reached forward and thrust the baby at him, into his arms.

The bundle felt fragile, and at the same time...heavy. He looked down at the tiny thing in his arms and felt... He couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t reason or rationalize the expanding sensation in his chest, or the ever-increasing sensation of weight. In his arms. On his shoulders.

“I can’t,” she said again. “I know you can take babies to a hospital or a police station, but she’s yours. You can take her there if you want.”

“Mine?” he asked.

His. His baby. He’d never even held a baby before, and now it turned out the one he had now was...his.

“I have to go. I need to go get... I need to get out of here.”

And then Sasha turned and ran. Ran away from the front door and down the steps, through the rain and back to her car.

He should do something. Go after her. Stop her. But he was frozen in place, staring down at the bundle in his arms. He moved the blanket away from the baby’s face and something in him shifted. Changed. As he looked at that tiny, vulnerable bundle in his arms, Jackson Reid felt like he no longer knew a damn thing.

Three months later...