An Heir For The Texan. Kristi Gold

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СКАЧАТЬ bask in the holiday glow and deliver toys for underprivileged children. As much as he appreciated the cause, he didn’t particularly care for the effort involved in transforming the place, especially while being supervised by two nitpicky female relatives.

      After draping the last string on the barbed wire, Austin hopped off the fence flanking the entry and climbed onto the ATV, taking off through the main gate toward temporary freedom. He passed by the family homestead, where his sister-in-law, Paris, sat on the front porch, hands resting on her pregnant belly. He raised his hand in a wave, and grinned when he noticed his brother, Dallas, struggling to set up the inflatable Santa beneath the massive oak while his blond-haired bride cheered him on. But his smile faded fast when he thought about his own failed marriage, and the loneliness that plagued him during the holidays.

      Shaking off the self-pity, Austin picked up speed before someone chased him down, namely one of the two self-proclaimed elves now hanging angels on the manicured hedges. As much as he appreciated Maria, the former nanny who’d become his much loved stepmom after the death of his birth mother, and Jenny, the surprise stepmom they’d only learned about six years ago during the reading of his father’s will, he was more than done with the decorating demands.

      Once he rounded the corner and reached his own cedar-and-rock house, he pulled into the driveway, shut down the ATV, then slid into the cab of his dual-wheel truck. He backed out and retraced the path he had taken, not bothering to acknowledge the family members standing on the lawn, shooting dagger looks in his direction. He continued toward the safety of the highway as he headed to an atmosphere where he could feel more macho.

      A few miles down the road, Austin pulled into the gravel parking lot at the outdoor arena and claimed a spot among all the stock trailers, plagued by past memories of the life he’d left behind. He’d said goodbye to the rodeo circuit several years ago to enter the cutthroat world of car dealerships. Actually, several truck dealerships spanning three states, thanks to the help of his winnings and inheritance. At least he’d succeeded at that endeavor, even if he had failed at his marriage.

      Shaking off the regrets, he walked through the entry, nodding at several cowboys, some who had been his competition. He immediately noticed all the young bucks crowded round the catch pens, eyeing him with awe like he was some sort of rodeo god. Those glory days were long gone and only remnants of the memories remained. But at least he’d left some sort of positive legacy to some kids since he’d probably never have any of his own.

      He climbed the steps two at a time and slid onto a wooden bench as a spectator, not a participant. That’s when he spotted her rounding the arena—a great-looking filly he knew all too well. A literal blast from his past. She was as flighty as a springtime moth, and as stubborn as a rusty gate. She could bring a man down with the swish of her tail. Austin should know. She’d brought him to his knees on more than one occasion. And even though several years had passed since he’d last seen her, he fondly recalled how she’d always given him a damn good ride.

      He shifted slightly as he watched her weave in and out of traffic, black mane flowing behind her in the breeze. She hadn’t lost her spirit, or her skill, or her ability to completely captivate him.

      Austin tensed when he noticed a gelding coming toward her, trying his best to buck off the cowboy on his back. If the filly didn’t slow down, move over, an equine wreck was imminent.

      No sooner than he’d thought it, it happened. The filly in question went one way, the mare she was riding went the other, and Georgie Romero, his black-maned, flighty, spirited first real girlfriend, ended up on the ground in a heap.

      A distant memory from his early childhood shot through Austin’s mind in response. The recollection of his own mother falling from her horse when he’d been too young to comprehend the consequences, or the impending loss. When he’d been too little to understand.

      That alone sent him on a sprint toward the arena in an effort to come to this woman’s rescue. He damn sure didn’t want to relive that tragedy.

      He hoped like hell this time he wasn’t too late.

      * * *

      When Georgia May Romero opened her eyes, she sensed a gathering crowd, but a pair of brown boots earned her immediate focus. She then noticed jean-encased legs and two large masculine hands resting casually on bent knees. And next—one very impressive, extremely big...belt buckle.

      Clearly she had died and gone to Cowboy Heaven.

      Her gaze traveled upward to take in the blue plaid shirt rolled up at the sleeves, revealing arms threaded with masculine veins and, above that, an open collar showing a slight hint of chest hair. She then visually journeyed to a whisker-shaded jaw surrounding a stellar mouth and an average nose with a slight indentation on the bridge. But there was nothing average about the midnight blue eyes. Devilish eyes. Familiar eyes. Surely not.

      “You okay, Georgie?”

      No, she’d died and gone to Cowgirl Hell.

      Shaking off her stupor, Georgie sat up and scrambled to her feet, silently cursing her bad luck and the man standing before her. The only man who could shake her to the core with only a smile. The man who’d changed her life six years ago, and he didn’t even know it. “Where’s my horse?”

      He pointed toward the outside of the arena. “Over there, tied to the rail. She’s a little bit shaken but she’s physically fine.”

      Only then did she venture another glance at her walking past, Austin Calloway. “Thanks,” she muttered. “She’s a two-year-old and still a little green. I brought her out to get used to the crowds. Obviously she’s not ready for competition.”

      He had the gall to grin. “I figured that much when she tossed you on your head. You fell pretty hard.”

      Oh, but she had...for him. Ancient history, one she didn’t dare repeat despite this chance meeting.

      Chance.

      She did a frantic search for the dark-haired, hazel-eyed boy who’d been the love of her life for the past five years, and thankfully spotted him still seated in the stands, holding cowboy court with a host of familiar men laughing at his antics. Andy Acosta, the middle-aged father of five, and horse trainer extraordinaire, sat at Chance’s side. Not only had Andy been a longtime hand on her family’s ranch, he happened to be one of the few people she trusted with her son.

      “Are you sure you’re okay, Georgie? No headache or double vision? Broken bones?”

      Just a pain in her keister. “I’m fine,” she said as she tore her gaze from her son to Austin and tried to appear calm. Having him learn of her own child’s existence, and the risk of prodding questions, was the last thing she needed at the moment. When she’d made the decision to move back to town to establish her veterinarian practice, she’d known she would have to tell him eventually, but she wanted to prolong that revelation until she’d had more time to prepare. Until she could gauge how he might react. Standing in a busy arena wasn’t an appropriate venue to deliver that bombshell.

      “You don’t look fine,” he said. “In fact, you look a little out of it.”

      She swept the dirt from her butt with her palms and frowned. “I assure you I’m okay. It’s not the first time I’ve been bucked off.”

      He took off his tan felt hat, forked a hand through his golden brown hair, then set it back on his head. “True. I remember that summer you broke your arm when you tried to ride your dad’s stallion.”

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