Her Hill Country Cowboy

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#uf1bd94ff-3366-537e-90ea-f535d8d1ca51)

Christina Hunter flexed her stiff fingers gripping the steering wheel and shot an anxious glance at the GPS display on her smartphone. Good, still following the blue line.

“In five hundred feet, turn right.”

“Thank you, Map Lady.” Flicking on her right blinker, she slowed as she approached the intersection.

Driving through the quaint downtown area of Juniper Bluff, Texas, felt like stepping back in time, but after her near-fatal auto accident two years ago, followed by a slow and difficult recovery, she was more than ready for a change of scenery. Small shops and businesses bordered a central square with a fountain at one end and a gazebo at the other. In the middle stood a statue of a horse and rider. A local hero, maybe? If Christina’s new job worked out, she might get to stay long enough to learn something about the guy.

But these days, everything in her life was a big if.

After making the turn, Christina patted her sweet, unflappable golden retriever, curled up in the passenger seat. “What do you say, Gracie? Ready to try small-town living?”

The dog thumped her tail, and those big brown eyes, so full of loyalty and affection, tugged hard at Christina’s heart.

“I couldn’t do this without you, girl. You know that, right—?”

Brake lights ahead jerked Christina’s attention back to her driving. A pickup swung over to the curb, and a tall man wearing a cowboy hat jumped out. Trotting to the middle of the road, he waved his arms in a frantic signal for Christina to stop. She slammed on the brakes and thrust out one hand to steady Gracie. Good thing the dog was safely secured in her harness.

Unfortunately, the sudden stop killed the car engine.

Heart pounding, Christina lowered her window and leaned out. “Is there a problem?”

“Sorry,” the man yelled. He stooped to pick up something in the street—a turtle?—and carried it across to the other side.

“Good grief. Really?” Glancing skyward, Christina shook her head. Was it a thing in small-town Texas to stop and help wildlife safely across the road?

Then she noticed the two anxious faces peering through the rear window of the pickup. A solemn-faced little boy held fast to a smaller girl and patted her shoulder. Even at this distance, Christina could see the girl’s chin quivering as she swiped wetness from her cheeks.

Poor kid.

But what a great dad.

Christina’s irritation eased. Formerly a social worker who’d championed children in trouble, she’d encountered too many fathers who didn’t deserve the title. How could she not admire a man willing to risk life and limb to protect his kids from witnessing a poor, defenseless creature crushed beneath the wheels of an automobile?

On his way back to the pickup, the man caught Christina’s eye and tipped his hat, briefly revealing sun-kissed caramel-colored hair in need of a trim. His crooked smile, combined with the happy cheers of his kids as they hung out the driver’s-side window, more than made up for the alarm Christina had suffered as a result of her abrupt stop.

Time to settle her nerves and get back on the road so she could meet her new employer. But when she turned the key in the ignition, the only response from under the hood was a rumbling groan. Another try, and the rumble faded to a sputtering cough.

“Not now. Oh, please, not now!” Christina slapped the steering wheel as a fresh surge of anxiety threatened to choke her.

Gracie whined. Rising on her haunches, the dog licked Christina’s ear and rested a paw on her thigh.

“I know, I know.” Forcing slow, deep breaths, Christina sank her fingers deep into the soft fur behind Gracie’s ears.

The man in the cowboy hat appeared at her window. “Everything okay, ma’am?”

“I—I can’t get my car started.” Christina despised the helpless-female quaver in her voice.

“Pop the hood. I’ll take a look.”

“That’s okay. I can—”

Too late. He’d already moved around to the front of the car. Oh, well, as a newcomer in a strange town, it wasn’t as if Christina had a lot of options. A call to the auto club could mean waiting an hour or more, especially this far away from a good-sized city, and she was already a day overdue to start her new job.

Wearily, she found the hood release and pulled the lever. Now all she could see in the space between the dashboard and the hood was the man’s strong, capable-looking hands. He fiddled with a car part here, another one there, then told her to try the ignition again.

The car started right up. Christina released a shaky cry of relief as the man slammed down the hood. With an elbow resting on the window frame, she called a relieved “Thank you!”

“No problem. It was kinda my fault, anyway. And thank you for stopping.” He tilted his head toward the kids watching from the pickup. “If I hadn’t rescued that critter, I’d have caught all kinds of what-for from those two.”

“Well, we couldn’t have that.” A pang of envy caught Christina by surprise. Did his wife know how blessed she was to be married to such a caring husband and father? With a quiet sigh, she reached for the gearshift. “I should get going. No more, uh, critters in the road, are there?”

The man looked both ways. “Coast is clear.” He hesitated. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Christina attempted a light laugh. “What gave me away?”

“No front license plate. Texas cars and trucks have both front and rear.”

Right. And in Arkansas they didn’t. Two days on the road and Little Rock already felt like a lifetime ago.

“If you need directions or anything...”

Christina pulled her lower lip between her teeth. She’d been driving almost nonstop since leaving the motel north of Dallas that morning, and she only wanted to reach her destination, meet her new employer and start settling in. Unwilling to risk the GPS getting her lost in the middle of nowhere, she glanced up with a tentative smile. “Maybe you could tell me if I’m heading in the right direction for Serenity Hills Guest Ranch.”

One eye narrowed. “You have a reservation?”

“Sort of.” It wasn’t any of this stranger’s business, but her employment arrangement did include the use of a private cabin.

Dipping his head, the man looked past Christina and frowned toward Gracie. “Then you should know the ranch has a no-pets policy.”

“Gracie isn’t a pet. She’s a registered service dog.” Guess he hadn’t noticed the blue vest Gracie wore.

“Be that as it may, you still can’t—”

A car horn blared behind them, and Christina startled. In the rearview mirror, she glimpsed a dusty tan SUV.

“Hey, Seth,” the whiskered driver bellowed through his open window. “Do your jawin’ somewhere’s else, will ya?”

“Cool your jets, LeRoy. The lady just had a little car trouble. Pull around if you’re in a hurry.”