Rancher's Son Read online

  “Look, I know you’ve lost a lot—your job, the business you’d planned to start—but you haven’t lost everything. You’ve still got me—and Jimmy—if you want us.”

  “More than you’ll ever know,” she whispered.

  This time there was no mistaking the flare of hope in Sarah’s eyes. For the first time since he’d read the DNA report, some of the tension bled off Ty’s shoulders. Managing a smile, he let his eyes drink their fill. From her red curls to her pert nose, her big heart to her stubborn determination, he loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone in his life…or ever would.

  He cleared his throat. In a voice that was surprisingly steady for a man whose knees were knocking, he said, “Raising a kid’s not like raising cattle. They need more TLC. It’s too big a job for one man. What do you say we do it together?”

  Sarah met his gaze head-on. “Are you asking me to be the mother of your child? Or to be your wife?”

  She’d never been one to let him slide on the important matters. It was just one of many things he loved about her. Fumbling for the dainty piece of jewelry he’d slipped into his pocket on the way to her house, he went down on one knee.

  His heart pounded in his throat as he took her hand in his and said the words men were supposed to say to the women who made their lives complete. “Sarah Magarity, I love you with all my heart and soul. Will you make me the happiest man in the world? Will you marry me?”

  Ty was sure he aged a decade in the second it took Sarah to relieve him of his misery. Her soft “Yes. Oh, yes!” put all his fears to rest.

  “Now, don’t get too attached to this ring,” he said, slipping the slim band with its simple solitaire onto her finger. “I have the jeweler on speed dial. He promised to stay open so we can come in and pick out one you’ll wear forever.”

  “I think this one will do quite nicely.” Sarah’s gaze swung from the sparkle on her finger to his eyes. With a look that firmed his desire to make her his own, she said, “I love you, Ty Parker.”

  Then, they were in each other’s arms, his lips on hers and hers on his, possessing each other, confirming their love for one another, promising forever. When they finally drew apart, Ty took a deep breath. The son he’d always wanted waited for them at the ranch while the woman of his dreams, his future, rested in the crook of his arm. He leaned in for another kiss to sustain him until they were home on the Circle P.

  Epilogue

  The sun had spread a pinkish glow against the dark horizon by the time Sarah toted two mugs of coffee from the kitchen to the great room. She paused in the doorway, her eyes sweeping over the garland strung with twinkling lights along the banister and stair rails. Hundreds of ornaments, most heirlooms handed down from one generation of Parkers to the next, dotted the enormous Christmas tree Ty had erected in one corner. A flood of gaily wrapped gifts spread out from under its tinsel-draped boughs. The bike she and Ty had spent the night assembling leaned proudly on its kickstand at the edge of the sea of presents. The view was a far cry from the Christmas she’d hastily cobbled together for Jimmy last year, and warmth flooded Sarah’s chest.

  She moved to where Ty sat on the couch.

  “You ready for all this?” she asked.

  “I think I’m more excited than he is,” Ty chuckled, the fatigue of staying up all night hidden behind his wide smile.

  When he reached for his cup, his fingers brushed hers, sending a shiver of longing through her. She saw the same deep emotions swimming in his dark brown eyes as she traced her fingers down his unshaven cheek.

  Ty patted the seat beside him and she slid under his welcoming arm, her side pressed against his wide chest. His breath whispered through her hair. “You think he’ll like everything?”

  “He’s a very lucky boy,” she said, knowing Jimmy would be thrilled. “I can’t wait to see his face when you tell him about Niceta.” Though the colt couldn’t be ridden for another couple of years, Jimmy’s riding lessons were coming along well enough that Ty had decided the boy was ready for the responsibility of having his own horse.

  “And the rest, are you ready for that, too?” She twisted the rings on the third finger of her left hand.

  Married.

  Who would have thought she’d be married and the mother of a six-year-old by the time another Christmas rolled around? But, after a summer wedding ceremony in her parents’ backyard, they’d followed the advice of Ty’s friend and formalized her ties to Jimmy.

  And they’d laid their last questions about the boy to rest. Together, she and Ty had braved the trunk upstairs where they’d collected hair samples from J.D.’s brush. Tests using blood the lab already had on file had confirmed Ty’s suspicions. Since J.D.’s parents were long gone, the paperwork had sailed through the courts, the final decree arriving in time for a truly memorable Thanksgiving. Even Connie hadn’t been able to stand in their way.

  Ty’s big hand covered hers. “Lots of changes in the wind. How ’bout you? Any doubts?”

  “Not a single one,” Sarah answered. She’d discovered true love, happiness and a new home on the Circle P.

  “Good. ’Cause I’m really looking forward to our honeymoon.” He lifted her ring finger to his lips and brushed a kiss against it. “I can’t wait to have you all to myself on some secluded beach in Hawaii. Makes me almost wish we weren’t waiting till tomorrow to take off.”

  “You’d give up seeing Jimmy’s face on Christmas morning?” she asked, pretending to be shocked. Their bags were already packed and by the front door. Tomorrow afternoon, she and Ty would leave Jimmy in Seth’s and Doris’s capable hands while they finally embarked on her Hawaiian vacation. Only, now that the trip was more than just a plant-buying expedition, Sarah thought it’d be a lot more fun. Her face warmed as she thought of two glorious weeks in a tropical paradise with the man of her dreams.

  “Never,” Ty murmured. “But you have to promise me we won’t spend all our time traipsing from one flower nursery to another.”

  “Flowers? Who said anything about flowers?” she teased, though they both knew she needed to add to her stock. Thanks to Ty’s advice, she’d salvaged nearly half her plants after last year’s freeze. Once she’d established a website for Parker Plumeria, her fledgling nursery had more orders than it could fill.

  “I wouldn’t mind getting a head start on that honeymoon right now,” Ty said, his hand cupping her shoulder.

  Much as she wanted the same thing, the patter of feet on the floor overhead put an end to those thoughts. “Later,” Sarah promised.

  “Mom, Dad, it’s Christmas! Did Santa Claus—” at the top of the stairs, a pajama-clad Jimmy stared down, his mouth a wide oval “—oh, wow!”

  Moisture stung the corners of Sarah’s eyes as the boy—her son!—thundered down the stairs. Rising to sweep him into her arms, she dashed away her tears. Jimmy had started calling Ty his dad the weekend they’d stripped a floral print from the walls in one guest room and redecorated it with horses and cowboys. Another couple of months had passed when, after saying his prayers one night, Jimmy had asked if a boy could have two mothers.

  For a second, Sarah’s breath had frozen in her chest.

  “Lots of kids have more than one mom,” she’d assured him. “Ryan from your kindergarten class has two.”

  Jimmy had nodded solemnly. And from that moment on, she’d been his.

  “Let’s open presents,” she suggested to the boy wiggling to peer around her.

  “All right!
”

  An hour later, every carefully wrapped gift had been opened, examined and scattered throughout the room, and they’d gathered the ribbons and paper for recycling. While they munched on the orange rolls Doris had baked the night before, Sarah let her gaze sweep the room. A year ago, she’d faced the future as a single woman devoted to her job. But one little boy had changed her carefully scripted life and filled it with more joy than she’d been able to imagine. She’d taken a chance on love and been rewarded with the best it had to offer.

  She caught Ty’s eye. “I think it’s time we showed Jimmy his other Christmas present, don’t you?”

  “There’s more?” Jimmy asked, his eyes widening.

  “One more.” Ty smiled.

  Outside, tropical flowers scented a warm winter breeze and the sun shone brightly against a blue sky. From the barn, horses whinnied softly over the distant lowing of cattle. Her hand firmly in Ty’s, Sarah’s chest swelled with happiness as she headed toward the barn with the man she loved and their son.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Cowboy Soldier’s Sons by Tina Leonard!

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  Chapter One

  We are such stuff as dreams are made on.

  —Shakespeare’s The Tempest

  Shaman Phillips wasn’t expecting a blonde bombshell to show up at the front door of the Dark Diablo farmhouse, but one glance at her shapely legs, long silky hair and beautiful face made him believe tonight might be a lucky night for a lone wolf. “Hello,” he said. “Can I help you?”

  “Hi.”

  Shaman decided the voice of an angel went with her amazing looks. She was way out of his league—and yet even a man with scars liked to gaze at beautiful things.

  “I’m looking for Chelsea Myers.”

  “Ah. The Chelsea Myers who married my brother Gage in July. She’s Chelsea Phillips now.” Shaman leaned forward, out of the doorway, planting his well-worn boots on the porch. “They live at the Callahan place, Rancho Diablo, in Diablo.”

  The goddess stepped closer, her high fire-engine-red heels clicking on the wood porch. “My name is Tempest Thornbury. I met Chelsea and Cat in July, before I returned to Italy.” She held up a small Louis Vuitton bag, complete with tufts of tissue paper coming out the top. Shaman knew what Louis Vuitton was; his sister, Kendall, was a huge fan. “I brought this for Cat. Is there a possibility you could give it to her?”

  “Come on in,” Shaman said, tamping down the wolflike tendencies fighting inside him. “I’ll get their address and you can send it to her. It’d probably be quicker. I never know when I’ll see them, now that the school year has started.”

  Tempest smiled. “Thank you.”

  Shaman went to get the address, and she followed him into the house. He handed her a piece of paper. “Cat started school in the middle of August in Diablo. She’s real happy there.”

  “I’m so glad.”

  He decided his visitor was even more beautiful close up. The hot-red suit fit her curves to perfection. She didn’t wear a wedding ring or jewelry, just some gold hoop earrings that kissed her cheeks.

  “She’s a sweet girl,” Tempest added.

  Shaman nodded, suddenly uncomfortable and not sure why. His first thought was to seduce this angel—what man could resist?—but she was too perfect for him. How dumb was that?

  Ten years in the military, most of them spent in Iraq and Afghanistan, might have left him hungry for female companionship, but it had also left him with scars on his back, a chunk missing from his shoulder and a red slash across his sun-browned cheek. He was lucky those were his only visible scars. Many of his buddies hadn’t fared so well.

  A little less perfection in a woman would suit him better. “Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

  Tempest smiled and turned on her heel. “I was hoping to see Cat and Chelsea, but I suppose they won’t be back until the semester is over?”

  “Can’t say.” He wasn’t familiar with Cat’s routine. “Chelsea and Gage just announced that they’re expecting a baby, so I don’t know how often Chelsea will be out here.”

  Tempest glanced back at him, looking pleased. “That’s wonderful! I’m glad to hear it.” She opened the front door before he could do so. “I didn’t get your name?”

  “Shaman Phillips.” He held the door for her, and as she walked out, caught a tease of a light flowery perfume. “You staying in Tempest, Tempest?” He grinned. “I didn’t realize you were named after the town.”

  She leaned into him, catching him off guard. “It’s a stage name. My real name is Zola Cupertino.”

  His brain tried to process that information, along with the distracting fact that she was dangerously close to him. And he didn’t think it was an accident. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she—

  “Soldier...” Tempest murmured.

  “Yes, ma’am?” he said, out of habit. She must have seen his military bag, and his combat boots in the living room.

  “I just got off a plane from Italy,” she announced. “I wonder if you might be interested in taking me out to dinner?”

  He blinked. “Certainly,” he said, trying to be chivalrous and not sound as surprised as he was by her unexpected invitation.

  She smiled at him, a sweet, slow, sexy smile, her angelic eyes free of artifice, but holding a silent plea. Maybe he didn’t want to see it. But she was still standing oh-so-close to him, and the next thing he knew, he’d taken the statuesque blonde in his arms and was kissing her like a dying man.

  She kissed him back hungrily.

  “Wait a second,” Shaman said. He was a lucky guy, but not this lucky. Angels didn’t just drop from the sky into his hard-edged world. “How did you say you know Gage and Chelsea?”

  “Met them this summer. Don’t stop what you’re doing, soldier.”

  He kissed her again, his mind trying to find the hook in the sweet deal she seemed to be offering him. She could have any guy in the world. Why would she choose him, instead of running from the sight of his scar-streaked face?

  What the hell. A man didn’t get too many gifts in life, and if this angel wanted to fly into his arms, he needed to quit acting like a skittish horse. “Hey, you want that dinner or not?” he asked, giving her one last chance to back away.

  “After,” she murmured, melting into him.

  He carried her to his bedroom, taking his sweet time, being careful with the soft suit and delicate white camisole. Her bra and panties were angel-wing white and breathlessly lacy, the kind that didn’t do much for support but everything for a man’s libido. Keeping the lights low, he whispered to her in soothing tones, expecting at any moment for her to tell him she wanted out of his bed. But she let him do whatever he wanted to her, and she was sweet like he’d never tasted sweet before.


  And when he finally entered her, Shaman thought he’d died and gone to some magical place he’d never known existed. In all the dirty, lonely nights he’d been scared out of his wits—and he’d been plenty scared, tough guy or not—he’d fantasized about a woman. Any woman. A soft, sweet woman to take away the pain.

  This woman was a velvet-soft gift from the gods, and whatever he’d done to deserve this time with her, Shaman wanted the moment to last forever.

  Tempest cried his name, and he lost himself in her. She grabbed at his shoulders, and he didn’t even think about his wounds or his scars. He held her and kissed her, savoring her like a treasure.

  Then they slept—maybe for an hour; he wasn’t certain. A glance out the window showed a moon that was huge and high in the sky. Getting out of bed, he said, “Let me shower. I’ll take you for that dinner.”

  She smiled at him in the moonlight. “Thanks, soldier.”

  Afraid to keep the lady waiting, he took the world’s fastest shower, dressing like a madman. Yet he wasn’t all that surprised when he came out and all that was left on the bed was the little Louis Vuitton bag, and a note that read, “Just remembered I have a meeting in town. Rain check for the dinner? Tempest.”

  He grunted. She’d signed the note as if it was an autograph for a book or a photo. “A meeting,” he muttered. Shaman glanced at the note again, massively disappointed. Rain check.