One Good Cowboy

By Delores Fossen

The golden cowboy of Wrangler's Creek returns home to Texas to discover some old flames never fizzle…

There are plenty of things Garrett Granger hadn't counted on losing – his child to miscarriage, his wife to another man and the family business thanks to a crooked CFO. He also hadn't counted on moving back to the family ranch, where he's met by another surprise – former flame Nicky Marlow, who is renting his grandmother's old house.

Nicky's been rebuilding her shattered life since her husband's death two years ago. But Garrett's timely arrival in Wrangler's Creek doesn't automatically make him the missing piece of the puzzle. Even if he does seem to adore her two–year–old daughter…Even if seeing him again stirs up old feelings Nicky would gladly keep buried, forcing her to wonder if moving forward has to mean leaving everything behind…

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Feb 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781489236265

Delores Fossen

USA Today bestselling author, Delores Fossen, is a former Air Force officer who’s sold over 150 novels. She's received the Booksellers' Best Award for romantic suspense, the Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice Award and was a finalist for the Rita ®. In addition, she's had nearly a hundred short stories and articles published in national magazines.You can contact the author through her webpage at www.deloresfossen.com

Book preview

Chapter One

There was a cowboy lying on the bar of the Longhorn Saloon. From the doorway, Evie Martin stared at his tall, lean body.

This wasn’t good.

She needed to get to work, but first she would apparently have to deal with a passed-out drunk. A drunk who wore faded jeans, an unbuttoned denim shirt and scuff-toed cowboy boots, and had a pair of red lace panties partially covering his face. His last moments of consciousness had probably been exciting, to say the least.

The rain spat against her back, and Evie stepped inside to save the few dry places left on her jeans and top. A trio of overhead whirling fans spilled cool, brisk air onto her.

She tiptoed around the toppled chairs, peanut shells and other assorted food remains. The floor was gluey, so sticky in spots that she had to work her shoes loose a couple of times.

Bud Wiser—his real name—was in the corner eyeballing the mess much as she was except there was even more dread on his craggy face because he worked for Evie’s father, Dale, who owned the Longhorn. That meant Bud was going to have to clean this up.

Evie took a deep breath before she spoke. What happened here?

It was a bachelor party, of sorts. Bud had a broom in one hand and a mop and pail in the other. Don’t think it was planned. It just sorta sprung up real late last night, and everybody in town including the Busby boys got in on it.

Well, she hoped whoever had done the springing up had paid for this. If not, her father was going to have a cow or two. Is that why you called me, so I could smooth things over with my dad? Because it was highly likely her dad didn’t know. He didn’t work Wednesday nights so none of this had happened on his shift.

Nope. I called you because of the note pinned to the cowboy’s chest. The cowboy with the red panties on his face, Bud added.

There was no need for that clarification since there was only one such cowboy in the room. But what she did need was clarification as to why he would be wearing a note that had anything to do with her.

Evie stopped just short of the bar, reached over and raked the panties off his face. They landed on his neck. Still, he didn’t move, but it gave her a better look at him. And in this case, a better look was all she needed to know who he was.

Carson Rowley.

A cattle broker from San Antonio and the absolute last person she expected to find passed out like this. If Evie had been guessing who was likely to end up here, she would have put every other adult in Wrangler’s Creek on her list, including the town’s three ministers. At the top of that list would have been Bennie Martindale, Carson’s business partner.

Bennie was also her on-again, off-again boyfriend.

This kind of sprung-up party was exactly something he would have done. Ditto for being on the bar with the red panties.

Evie checked out the note next. And yes, it was pinned to Carson’s shirt. Someone had scrawled, Call Evie and tell her I’m sorry. There was no signature.

She gave Carson’s arm a shake, and as if hinged at the waist, he snapped to a sitting position. His bloodshot eyes flared open to reveal stormy blue irises. Like some angry force to be reckoned with, he growled and wrenched his mouth into a jagged line.

Had too much to drink? she asked.

He groaned again. This one had a you think? smart-aleck quality to it. He grabbed the panties off his neck and looked at them as if they were a UFO. For a second she thought he was about to ask her how they’d gotten there.

Or if they were hers.

But instead he groaned again, tossed the panties on the floor and got off the bar. He winced every inch of the way before his feet landed on the floor.

There’s a stampede going on in my head, he grumbled.

Not surprising. Also not surprising that Carson still managed to look hot despite the wincing and groaning. Of course, he always had that effect on her. Forbidden fruit and all that. Not that he would have given in to anything forbidden. Nope. Not Carson. He was a good guy and as loyal as a brother to Bennie.

Even when Bennie didn’t deserve such loyalty.

Want to explain this? she asked, touching the note.

Not a good idea because he shifted just as she touched. Since his shirt was still wide open, she ended up