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Chapter One

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s a cute dress. Just kinda conservative.”

Kylie Richardson glanced down at the simple blue sheath and sighed. She almost always wore jeans. She liked jeans. They were comfortable, casual, easy. Dresses always made her think of Easter and holding her stomach in. Why on earth had she agreed to go on this date? Just the thought of it made her palms clammy.

“If I were you, I’d be showing off those curves,” her friend Mallory said before taking a bite of her apple fritter.

“Well, that’s a nice way of putting it,” Kylie said with a laugh that ended in a groan. Since moving to Blackfoot Falls, Montana, and opening The Cake Whisperer thirteen months ago, she’d gained six pounds. Obviously from enjoying too many of her own cupcakes.

Mallory stopped chewing and swallowed. “What do you mean?”

She’d moved from California and opened the bar next door about the same time and they’d become fast friends. Tall and slim with honey-colored hair that Kylie coveted with unabashed envy, Mallory didn’t have to worry about indulging her sweet tooth.

The bell above the door jingled, saving Kylie from having to reply.

Aunt Sally, who owned the Cut and Curl—the only beauty parlor in town—walked into the bakery and frowned at the dress. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, you still have that old thing?”

“I was hoping you didn’t get that at the new consignment boutique.” Rachel Gunderson, another friend who knew practically everyone within a hundred miles, entered right behind Aunt Sally. “It doesn’t flatter you at all.”

Kylie spotted the elderly Lemon sisters across the street, squinting and trying to see them through the window. “Lock the door, will you, Rachel?” The bakery was closed for the day but Kylie should’ve known better. People around their small town didn’t pay any attention to signs or wait for invitations.

Usually Kylie didn’t mind, and she certainly welcomed these women. Her aunt was the main reason Kylie had chosen to settle in Blackfoot Falls. But she sure didn’t need any more opinions about her dress.

Rachel’s attention had wandered to Mallory. “Did that just come out of the oven?”

“Tastes like it,” Mallory muttered around another bite of the fritter.

“They’re from this morning,” Kylie said, grateful for the distraction. “I have a couple left in the back. Some scones too, I think. Go help yourselves.”

Sally looked as if she was struggling with temptation. “Good Lord, girl, I don’t know how you learned to bake like an angel,” she said, smoothing a hand over her ample hip. This month her naturally brown hair was tinted auburn...kind of close to Rachel’s color. “Your mom sure didn’t teach you. That sister of mine could burn ice cream.”

Rachel emerged from the back with a tray of goodies. “What about the turnovers? Are they off-limits?”

“Nope. Just forgot about ’em.”

Sally sighed and snatched one with a dark golden crust. “Sassy’s should still be open. Get on over there and find yourself something sexy,” she said before taking a bite. “By the way, who’s the lucky guy?”

“Oh, you expect me to volunteer a name?” Kylie brought out a stack of napkins from under the counter. “You really think I’m that stupid?”

“Well, I figure it’s better than us asking around until we find out.”

Kylie groaned.

“You know what? Sassy’s is a good idea,” Rachel said. “Beth Landers dropped off a bunch of clothes yesterday. Nice stuff. Some of it designer.”

“Then hell yes, you’d better get over there before the Sundance guests get wind of it.” Sally licked the tips of her long red-painted fingernails. “They’ll be swarming the place like vultures.”

Rachel chuckled. “Good point,” she said, clearly taking no offense. Her family owned the Sundance. Back when the town had faced hard times, it had been Rachel’s idea to turn a portion of the sprawling cattle operation into a dude ranch.

“Beth has to be five inches taller than me.” Kylie was tempted, though. Beth owned a cute boutique inn on Main Street and always looked so great.

“You’re close to the same size in every other way. All you’d have to do is hem,” Sally said. “When’s the big night? Tomorrow, right?”

Kylie nodded.

“Good. Once you find a dress, come over to the Cut and Curl. I’ll put some highlights in your hair.”

“Tomorrow really isn’t a big deal,” Kylie muttered, but couldn’t help glancing longingly at Mallory, who was checking the time. Probably needed to go open the bar soon. It gave Kylie a moment to wonder if her own hair was too dark to pull off some honey-colored highlights.

“Of course it’s a big deal. You waited a whole year before diving back in after you got rid of Gary. That was very sensible.” Sally smiled gently. “And don’t let your mother tell you otherwise. I love my sister dearly, but that woman doesn’t know how to live without a man. I hope she’s not still harping on you to take back that no-good cheating bum.”

Heat flooded Kylie’s face. The other two women knew about most of her past. But it wasn’t a topic she liked discussing. Especially now that the year she’d given herself had stretched to nearly fourteen months. She wasn’t ready to date. She barely even knew how. Gary had been the only guy in her life since high school.

“Hey, I’ll go with you to Sassy’s,” Rachel said with an understanding smile.

“Oh, hell, I didn’t mean to upset you, honey.” Her aunt set the turnover aside on a napkin, a worried frown creasing her heavily made-up face.

“You didn’t.” Kylie shrugged. “I just don’t want to spend money on a dress I’ll probably never wear again.”

“You will.” Mallory wiped her hands. “Do you know how many cowboys who come to the Full Moon are dying to go out with you?”

“Oh, God.” Kylie rolled her eyes. Just what she needed. Another cowboy.

Mallory grinned. “Go to Sassy’s with Rachel,” she said. “I’d go, too, but I have to open soon. Besides, I’m hopeless at shopping for dresses. You know me, I’m always in jeans and T-shirts.”

Nodding, her mouth full, Rachel mumbled, “Just let me finish this fritter and we’ll go.”

Kylie glanced around her small shop. She still had to clean out the glass case and sweep and mop the floor. Get the coffee ready for tomorrow morning’s rush. At least the kitchen was finished.

She looked down at her frumpy dress. It couldn’t hurt to spend a few bucks on something that had been manufactured in the twenty-first century.

“Hey, where’s the other turnover?” Sally asked.

Still chewing, Rachel pointed to her tummy.

Sally’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding?”

Mallory looked surprised too, but she just laughed and headed for the door.

“Nope,” Rachel said. “After all, I’m eating for two now.”

Mallory’s hand froze on the doorknob as she slowly turned with a shocked expression that rivaled Sally’s. Kylie couldn’t move at all. Neither her feet nor her mouth seemed to be working.

“You little devil.” Sally rushed in and hugged Rachel so hard she started coughing. “How far along are you?” Sally drew back but held Rachel at arm’s length. “For heaven’s sake, hurry and finish coughing and tell us everything.”

“Congratulations, Rach,” Mallory said. “I’m so happy for you and Matt.”

Kylie struggled to speak. Her jaw was locked shut, so she hurried into the kitchen for a glass of water. And to give herself time to slow down her heart rate and to fight back the tears that threatened to burst from her eyes.

She was happy for Rachel. Of course she was... Rachel was a kind and wonderful person. So was her husband, Matt, and they’d been trying to get pregnant since Kylie had moved to town.

Kylie gulped down the water, then brought out another glass. She knew she was being irrational. Kylie was only twenty-six, but she’d always planned to have started her own family by now. With Gary. The lying scumbag, who for nine years had promised her a happily-ever-after. He’d painted a perfect picture. Right after he won his first big cash prize, she’d get her dream wedding. They’d have a passel of kids, with enough money to fulfill all their dreams.

She could still hear him say, “Honey, everything I do, I do for us.” He’d said it so often, she should’ve been suspicious. Or even had a clue. Long before she’d caught him with two blondes in the bed Kylie had shared with him.

* * *

SHORTLY AFTER LANDON KINCAID crossed into Wyoming he spotted an exit sign up ahead. It was getting late, the September sun already dipping behind the Rockies in the distance. Probably about time for him to stop for the night. Too bad his mom was away visiting his sister in Salt Lake. His family’s ranch, which his older brothers had been running since their dad’s passing, was just over a hundred miles south. Landon figured he’d catch them on his way back.

Anyway, this exit was as good as any since he hadn’t planned on driving straight through to Blackfoot Falls. His leg ached from sitting behind the wheel for the better part of ten hours. The last thing he wanted to do was to hobble out of his truck like an old man after not seeing Kylie for a whole year.

Yeah, she’d seen him in worse shape, even patched him up plenty of times in the past. But that’s not why he’d been driving eleven hundred miles to see her. After she’d kicked Gary out of her life, Landon had promised himself he’d give her a year—give them both a year—before he made his intentions clear.

Tomorrow would be thirteen months and two weeks. He would’ve showed up sooner if he hadn’t busted up his leg. Waiting had been brutal. The image of her climbing into her rickety compact on the night she’d left Iowa, the muffler about ready to fall off, had been imprinted in his mind. Her face had been blotchy, her nose red and her eyes puffy, and all he’d wanted to do was put his arms around her and hold on tight. Instead, he’d asked if he could help load her belongings.

She’d turned on him so fast, her fury tangible in the night air. He could still hear her words...

“I don’t want anything to do with any of you damn cowboys. You hear me? Nothing. If you want to help, leave me alone.” She’d thrown two more boxes into the car, and swung back to face him. “Everything was fine between Gary and me until you—”

She hadn’t finished. Just fled to safety behind the wheel.

He’d just stood there like a helpless idiot, twisted with guilt and a deep, gut-wrenching sense of loss, trying not to feel responsible for everything that had gone wrong for Kylie those last two years, as he watched his best friend’s girl drive away.

Shaking the memory off, Landon turned his truck into a motel parking lot. Hell, he didn’t even remember leaving the expressway. That kind of crap had happened too many times in the past couple of months. Thoughts of seeing Kylie again, hoping she’d give him a chance to fix things, had distracted him. Cost him plenty, too.

Stopping under the flashing green vacancy sign, he’d planned on letting the truck idle while he dashed into the office. Naturally, his leg wouldn’t cooperate. He tried flexing the muscle but it burned like hell. Impatient, he grabbed his crutches. Lately, he did okay without them...as long as he didn’t overdo it. Now wasn’t the time to be stupid.

After he’d registered and gotten a key, he drove across the parking lot to the gas station on the corner. All six pumps were free and he figured it was better to refuel now and leave his options open tomorrow. Hell, he might even tackle some extra exercises the physical therapist had given him.

Leaning on one crutch for support, he was halfway through filling the tank when someone pulled up next to him. He nodded at the older man getting out of his battered pickup loaded with bales of hay. Landon realized someone else was in the truck when he heard the passenger door slam.

“Hey, aren’t you Landon Kincaid?” The scruffy blond kid coming around the bed looked to be in his midteens.

“Last time I checked.” Landon eyed the baggy jeans and the backwards baseball cap. Not the typical rodeo fan but he obviously followed the sport. A year ago the kid probably wouldn’t have recognized him.

After eight years of rodeoing, Landon had finally made it to the national finals last December. He hadn’t nabbed the title, but he’d gotten close enough that fans had taken notice. So had two major sponsors. And then Landon had gone and done something stupid.

“Hey, Gramps,” the boy said. “You know who this is, right?”

The man lifted the gas pump nozzle and squinted at Landon. “You gonna make it to the finals again?”

“I hope so. Or I’ll die trying.”

“Well, don’t do that,” the man said, chuckling. “You still got time. How much longer before they let you back on a bronc?”

“A couple weeks.” He heard a click, added enough fuel to round up to the next dollar and removed the nozzle. Forgetting about the crutch, he almost lost his balance.

“Is that what the doc says?” The man watched the crutch bounce off Landon’s truck and land on the oil-stained cement.

“Maybe three weeks,” Landon muttered.

“Everybody was shocked you got thrown, even the commentators.” The kid picked up the crutch and brought it to him. “Lucky that mare didn’t stomp your head. I heard she missed your ear by an inch.”

Yeah, tell him something he didn’t already know. “Thanks,” Landon said, opening his door and shoving the crutch to the passenger side.

“What happened? She get spooked?”

“Come on, Tommy,” the grandfather said, giving the boy a stern look. “Leave the man alone.”

Landon might’ve left things at that but the kid grabbed a squeegee from a bucket and started washing his windshield. “It wasn’t the horse, it was me,” he said, surprised by his candor. How many times had he been asked that question? And had always given the same answer...he didn’t know. “I guess I let my mind wander for a second.”

“Really?”

Hell, it wasn’t a guess. “Not a smart thing to do with thirteen hundred pounds of bucking horseflesh underneath you.”

“What were you thinking about?”

Landon snorted a laugh. “A girl.”

Tommy stopped scrubbing the windshield and stared. “You serious?”

Already regretting his words, Landon pocketed the gas receipt and said, “Thanks for your help, buddy. Appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Tommy hurried around to wash the other side. “You got an autographed picture I could have?”

Landon shook his head. Joining the winners’ circle had its drawbacks. “Tell you what. You ever come to a rodeo where I’m riding, you let me know and I’ll hook you up with free tickets.” He scribbled his cell number down, something else he never did and would likely regret.

“Wow. Thanks, dude.” Tommy stared at the piece of scrap paper.

“You don’t give that number out to anyone else, or no free tickets. Got it?”

The kid nodded. “How about a selfie?”

Landon wasn’t keen on those either, but it wouldn’t kill him. “All right. Just one.”

“With the crutches?”

“No,” he said in a tone that allowed no argument.

Tommy’s grandpa chuckled. “Come on, boy. Quit bothering the man and let’s go deliver this hay.”

Landon grabbed his Stetson from the passenger seat and settled it on his head. Tommy got his photo and after they shook hands, Landon slid back behind the wheel. He automatically massaged his thigh muscle. It throbbed from standing just those few extra minutes. Had to be the long drive. He was getting better every day. And every one of those days counted in a big way. He couldn’t afford to mess up.

A split second of inattention in the saddle had landed him on the ground, his leg broken in two places. All because he’d caught a glimpse of a woman he’d thought was Kylie sitting in the stands.

So much for his fast track to the finals in December. Oh, with his scores, he still had a good shot. But only if his leg healed soon.

He doubted Kylie had been keeping up with rodeo news. She wouldn’t know he’d been winning big. Or that he’d gotten hurt. He didn’t care about any of that stuff, though. What he didn’t want was her thinking he needed tending. Dammit, it was long past time Kylie understood exactly what he wanted from her.

Stealing The Cowboy's Heart

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