One Night with the Cowboy

By Brenda Harlen

No need for a shotgun wedding this time.

They’re still married!

An impromptu trip to Vegas brings Brielle Channing face-to-face with her ex-husband. Except Caleb Gilmore has some news—the handsome cowboy never signed those divorce papers years ago. Still husband and wife, they rekindle their undying spark and receive the ultimate surprise. But is a baby on the way enough to keep them together when their families are wanting to tear them apart once again?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Harlequin
• Release date: Aug 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781488042140

Brenda Harlen

Brenda Harlen is a multi-award winning author for Harlequin Special Edition who has written over 25 books for the company.

Book preview

Prologue

Brielle Channing slid out of bed in the darkness before dawn, dressing quickly in a plain T-shirt, a pair of well-worn jeans and her favorite cowboy boots. She didn’t need any light to make her way down the stairs, out the back door and toward the stables—she’d traveled the familiar route more times than she could count.

She saddled up Domino, the black gelding with white markings, and tried not to think about the fact that this would be their last ride before Brie piled her bags into the back of her father’s truck and headed to the airport. She would miss her equine companion as much as she’d miss her parents and sister and brothers, but the hardest goodbye would be the one she said this morning, by the stand of ponderosa pines on top of the rocky ridge that formed part of the northern boundary of the Crooked Creek Ranch.

By the time she led Domino out of the barn, the sun had begun to rise, painting streaks of orange, pink and purple across the early morning sky. She lifted herself into the saddle, then let her horse take the lead, bending low over Domino’s back as the gelding galloped across the field, hooves biting chunks out of the tired, dry soil. The wind whipped through Brie’s hair and made her eyes sting, but she kept them open and focused to absorb all the sights and scents and sounds of the world around her—as if to lock them into her memory forever.

The sky was more light than dark now, and she could see the outline of the simple cabin that had been built as a shelter for cowboys caught by unexpected severe weather. The first time she’d given herself to Caleb Gilmore had been in that cabin, and the primitive shelter had become their private refuge from everything that wanted to tear them apart.

She was thinking about Caleb as she dismounted and led Domino to the narrow stream to drink. The boy she’d known for most of her life had always been serious and intense, and when he’d focused that intensity in her direction, she hadn’t stood a chance.

Not that she’d resisted. Not even for a minute. Because she’d loved Caleb Gilmore with every beat of her heart—and loving him had nearly destroyed her family.

The thundering hooves of Indigo, his prized stallion, crashed through her reverie moments before horse and rider came into view. As always, the sight of him made her body quiver and her heart sigh. Though barely twenty, he was already so much more man than boy: over six feet tall with a solid build that attested to years of work on his family’s cattle ranch. He controlled the powerful animal beneath him with a light hand on the reins and subtle signals from the strong thighs that gripped its flank. Indigo pulled up and Caleb slid off the stallion’s back, releasing the reins so the animal could dip its head to drink from the stream beside Domino.

Though Caleb’s face was shaded by the brim of his hat, Brie felt the intensity of his gaze on her. After a long minute, he finally said, I hear you’ve decided on Columbia.

She nodded. It’s a really good school, she said, because it was true, though not even a fraction of the whole truth.

So’s UC Berkeley, he pointed out, naming the college she’d originally planned to attend.

She nodded again.

But California wasn’t far enough from Haven, he guessed.

I just think it’s best, for everyone, if we put some distance between us, she said.

He shook his head. Do you really believe that? he challenged. "Because I can guarantee it’s not best for me, and I don’t think it’s what you want, either."

She’d known this wouldn’t be easy, but she hadn’t imagined it could be this hard. After everything they’d been through over the past few weeks, her heart should be numb. But it wasn’t—it was torn open and bleeding, and she knew that going away from here, away from Caleb, was the only way to make the hurting stop.

She had to swallow before she could speak. I’ve always wanted to get out of this town, she told him, her voice breaking just a little. And you’ve never wanted to be anywhere else.

You didn’t always want to get out of this town, he contradicted. There was a time when you wanted to be my wife and help me build our home on the Circle G.

That was before I knew that the idea of a Blake married to a Gilmore would give my grandfather a heart attack.

Your grandfather is a grumpy old man whose heart is kicking along just fine with his new pacemaker. And you’re a Channing, not a Blake.

My mother was a Blake, she reminded him, as she retrieved a manila envelope from her saddlebag. And her blood runs through my veins.

He had no choice but to take the envelope she thrust into his hands. There’s nothing I can say that will change your mind, is there?

She shook her head. This is a great opportunity for me.

And when you’re finished with school—what will you do then? he asked. Will you come home?

She looked away. I don’t know.

Yeah, you do, he said, his tone resigned as he hoisted himself into the saddle again. Good luck in New York, Brie.

Then he rode away, Indigo’s hooves trampling the already broken pieces of her heart.

Chapter One

Seven years later

We’re going to Las Vegas!

The words stole the air from Brie’s lungs, like the first big drop of the Cyclone at Coney Island. But unlike the thrill of plunging eighty-five feet at sixty miles an hour, there was no exhilarating rise that followed—only an uncomfortable queasy feeling.

Judging by Lily’s excited squeals, she had an altogether different reaction to the announcement.

Okay. Grace clapped her hands together and grinned. Stop squealing and start packing—we fly out at eight forty-five tomorrow morning.

Tomorrow? Brie echoed, when she’d managed to find her voice. But—

Don’t you dare say you can’t go, Grace interjected. We talked about this months ago, and we all agreed that we would take a long weekend to celebrate my twenty-fifth birthday.

Of course I’m going to celebrate with you, she assured her friend. I just thought you’d want something a little more...or maybe a little less. And Vegas in August is going to be sticky and gross.

Worse than New York? Lily asked dubiously.

Trust me, Brie said.

I realize you’ve probably been there a thousand times, Grace said. But I never have and that’s where I want to go. Plus, the plane tickets and hotel are already paid for by my parents as their birthday present to me.

Although Brie had grown up less than 450 miles from Las Vegas, she’d only ever made one trip to Sin City. One unforgettable trip more than seven years earlier, and though the heartache had begun to fade, she knew she could never forget the man—or their reasons for making that trip.

Now I’m off to the obligatory birthday dinner with the family at Per Se, Grace continued, already heading toward the stairs. Make sure you pack your party clothes—I want to celebrate my quarter-century milestone in a big way.

Lily pushed off the sofa. I knew there was a reason I bought that sexy red dress at Bergdorf’s last weekend.

I thought you bought it because you couldn’t resist a sale, Brie noted dryly.

Her friend grinned. That, too.

Lily disappeared into her bedroom to begin packing, and Brie decided to do the same, albeit with less enthusiasm. Because going to Nevada naturally made her think about Haven, where she’d grown up and where most of her family still lived, and thinking about Haven brought back memories of Caleb, the first—and only—boy she’d ever loved. And even after seven years, those memories made her heart yearn.

When she left Haven, she didn’t think she’d ever go back. And for the first four years, she hadn’t. Then her grandmother died, and she’d needed to grieve with her family. Two years after that, she’d returned for a much happier occasion: the wedding of her brother Spencer to Kenzie Atkins, Brie’s best friend throughout high school. The next spring, she’d gone back for the birth of her sister Regan’s twin baby girls—and again for Piper and Poppy’s baptism.

Each successive trip had been a little easier than the one before. Of course it helped that she didn’t need to worry about running into Caleb, because her parents had built a big house closer to town a few years earlier and he rarely ventured far from the Circle G.

She pulled her suitcase out from under her bed now and set it on top of the mattress—and vaguely wondered if she could fake being sick to avoid the trip. She immediately felt guilty for even contemplating such a ruse, but the way her stomach tied itself into knots at the prospect of returning to Las Vegas, she might not have to fake anything.

But she would do this for Grace. She would do anything for either of the two women who’d been her best friends since her first week in New York, when they’d met as freshmen residents of Hartley Hall.

There was a light tap on the partially open door, then Lily poked her head into her room. Can I come in?

Of course, Brie invited.

Her friend looked at the still empty suitcase, then at her. You absolutely hate the idea of going to Las Vegas, don’t you?

Brie opened a drawer and began rifling through the contents. There are a lot of other places I would have preferred to visit, but I can understand why Grace wants to go. Everyone should experience Sin City at least once.

I’m not particularly close to my family—as you know, Lily admitted. But even I go home at least three times a year.

My parents come to New York periodically.

"They come here, her friend agreed. How often do you go there?"

In the past year, more than she’d wanted to, but Brie knew that response would only raise more questions. I don’t enjoy traveling as much as they do, she suggested as an explanation instead.

Says the woman who visited ten countries in Europe on her summer vacation last year, Lily noted.

That was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Her friend lowered herself onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard with one leg tucked up beneath the other. Las Vegas is 432 miles from Haven, she pointed out.

A detail of which Brie was well aware, but not one that she’d expect an East Coast native to know.

Her surprise must have shown on her face, because Lily shrugged and explained, I looked it up.

Brie continued packing.

Are you ever going to tell us what happened to make you leave Nevada and never want to return? her friend asked gently.

What can I say? I love New York.

I know that’s true, but I also know it’s not the whole truth.

Brie sighed. Maybe I should have told you—and Grace—a long time ago, but I was feeling too raw and vulnerable at first. And then, as time passed, I realized that my heartbreak wasn’t nearly as big a deal as it seemed.

It must have been a bigger deal than you’re pretending now, Lily said. Or the thought of going to Nevada wouldn’t have you strangling that dress the way you are.

She immediately unclenched her hands and shook out the garment, then folded it neatly into her suitcase. It wasn’t a big deal, she insisted. I simply fell in love with the wrong guy.

Why was he wrong? her friend wondered.

Our families were the Montagues and Capulets of Haven, she explained. "And while the whole star-crossed lovers thing seemed incredibly romantic at the time, it didn’t end well.

No big surprise there, of course, but I chose to walk away with a broken heart rather than put a dagger through it.

Are you still in love with him?

It was seven years ago, she reminded Lily.

Which doesn’t actually answer the question, her friend noted.

I’m not still in love with him, she said, because she needed to believe it was true.

After more than seven years, she didn’t want to admit—even to herself—that Caleb Gilmore still owned the biggest piece of her heart.

---

Caleb Gilmore had been back to Las Vegas a handful of times since his impulsive trip with Brielle Channing seven years earlier. But each subsequent journey inevitably brought back memories of the first time.

And of Brie.

Of course, it was rare for a single day to pass without him thinking about her, because in Haven, there were reminders every way he turned. Driving past the high school, he couldn’t help but think about the first time they’d danced together. Riding up to Eagle Rock to herd a lost calf, he was reminded of their first kiss. And returning to Las Vegas brought back memories of the promises they’d made to each other so long ago. Promises that had obviously meant more to him than to her, since she’d broken every one of them within a few weeks of their return to Haven.

This time, he’d made the trip at the request of his childhood friend Joe Bishop, to serve as best man at Joe’s wedding. They’d arrived late the night before and checked into The Destiny—a newer luxury hotel on the strip that Joe had chosen because he was certain he was about to meet his destiny.

Do you have the ring? the groom-to-be asked, for the tenth time in as many minutes.

Caleb nodded. I’ve got it, he confirmed, as he’d done each time before.

It was my grandmother’s, his friend said. She wore it every day for almost sixty years.

And now he was ready to put that ring on the finger of a woman he’d known for less than six hours.

You know this is crazy, right? Caleb felt compelled to ask his friend.

I know you think so, Joe acknowledged. But me and Delia have been chatting and gaming online for almost seven months, and I knew I loved her even before I saw her. Now that we’ve finally met, I have no doubt that she’s the woman I’m destined to be with for the rest of my life.

The rest of your life is a long time, he warned.

I hope so, his friend said sincerely. But if you’re not comfortable standing up for me, I can—

No, Caleb interjected. I want to do this. Because even if I do think this is more than a little impulsive, it’s obvious that Delia is just as smitten with you as you are with her.

Then why are you scowling? Joe asked him.

He shook his head. "If I tell you, you’re going to think I’m crazy."

Tell me anyway, his friend said.

Caleb slipped his arms into his jacket, then buttoned the front, tugged on the cuffs. I caught a glimpse of a woman in the hotel lobby downstairs, he finally admitted. And I thought—for a minute—that it was Brie.

"Brielle Channing?"

He nodded.

Joe considered the admission for a moment before responding. "Let me see if I’ve got this right. I’m crazy for falling in love with a woman I met online seven months ago, but it’s okay that you’re still in love with the woman who walked away from you more than seven years ago?"

I’m not still in love with her, Caleb denied.

Then forget about her, Joe advised. Because what happens in Vegas—

Stays in Vegas, he finished, the marketing slogan being truer than even his buddy realized.

The groom-to-be grinned. That’s right, my friend. And after the ceremony, I will be escorting my bride to the honeymoon suite, which means that this room is all yours.

I’ll keep that in mind, Caleb said. Although the idea of spending the night with a random stranger held absolutely no appeal, admitting as much to his friend would only result in more questions about Brie—and he definitely didn’t want to go there.

Good. Joe adjusted his tie in the mirror. Do you have—

Yes, he interrupted. I have the ring.

Okay.

Caleb glanced at his watch and decided they had some time before they needed to head down to the chapel. The thick carpet of the luxury room muffled his footsteps as he crossed to the bar to retrieve two bottles of beer from the fridge.

Do you have any idea what they charge for those? the anxious groom asked, his preoccupation with his grandmother’s ring momentarily forgotten.

No, he admitted, as he uncapped both bottles and handed one to Joe. But undoubtedly less than the champagne, and I thought you’d prefer to toast your marriage this way.

Can’t argue with that, his buddy decided.

To you and Delia, Caleb said, lifting his bottle in the air. May you have a long and happy life together.

And to my best friend, Joe said, raising his drink. I hope that someday you find your perfect match and feel as lucky as I do right now. In the meantime— he grinned again —I hope you at least get lucky.

They tapped their bottles together and drank, then Joe went to escort his bride while Caleb headed to the chapel.

On his way, he passed one of the hotel’s three pools and lingered for a minute to admire the crystal clear water sparkling in the afternoon sun—and the numerous shapely female bodies in and around it.

He felt an unwelcome tug in the vicinity of his chest when he saw her there: the same woman he’d caught a glimpse of earlier. The woman he’d believed—for the space of one endless, aching heartbeat—was Brielle.

Of course, it wasn’t her. There were more than fifty hotels on the strip, and the odds that she might be vacationing in Las Vegas and staying at this particular hotel on the same weekend that he was here were...incalculable.

Whoever the woman was, she wasn’t Brie, and he had to stop imagining otherwise.

---

Brie stepped out of the water and reached for one of the thick, fluffy towels provided by the hotel.

Then her gaze lifted to his face, noted the light brown hair that showed hints of gold in the sun, the tanned skin and square jaw, the hazel eyes framed by thick lashes—eyes that seemed to be staring right into hers even through the dark lenses of the sunglasses perched on her nose.

Her breath caught in her throat and her heart actually skipped a beat before it resumed its rhythm, albeit a little harder and faster than before.

"It is you," he said, in a low voice that was achingly familiar.

She ignored the