A Cowboy's Pride. Pamela Britton
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Название: A Cowboy's Pride

Автор: Pamela Britton

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Контркультура

Серия: Mills & Boon American Romance

isbn: 9781472013453

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ its late springs, and yellow wildflowers dotted the pasture, the blooms having cropped up so quickly it was as if they celebrated the change in temperatures. Though it was California, it wasn’t uncommon for frost to wreak havoc. So the wildflowers weren’t the only living things to be glad the bitterly cold weather was over—Alana was grateful, too.

      “Do you think he’ll remember you, Dad?” Rana stood in front of her father now, her dad’s arms resting upon her shoulders. She looked up and back and shot him a wide smile. He was the center of her universe. The filling in her Hostess cupcake. The espresso in her caramel macchiato. It’d been that way ever since Rana’s mother died, and once again Alana had to look away as she thought back to those difficult days. So much tragedy. So much loss. And now, look. Rana had learned to walk again, and the ranch had a new name...and a new mission, and she...well, Alana had taken on the role of surrogate mother even though there was nothing romantic between her and Cabe.

      “Oh, he remembers me.”

      Something about the way Cabe said those words had Alana glancing at him sharply. Had there been bad blood between them when Cabe had quit the rodeo circuit to nurse his little girl? Alana couldn’t remember hearing anything. Of course, Cabe and Braden had competed at a different level than Trent. The brothers had just begun to take their rodeo careers seriously—flying to bigger, out-of-state rodeos, an eye on the National Finals Rodeo.

      And then the car accident.

      Both she and Cabe had lost loved ones. He a brother and a wife, she a future husband, and the two of them had clung to each other in their grief. There’d never been anything between them, never would be, but she’d stuck around for Rana’s sake. She’d talked about moving out. Cabe and Rana wouldn’t hear of it. They still needed each other, Rana said. She couldn’t be without her aunt Alana. She was family, they had both insisted, the tragedy having bonded them together in a way none of them could have imagined. In fact, the similarities between what had happened to them and what had happened to their new guest, Trent, gave Alana chills.

      Could they fix him like they’d fixed Rana?

      Something hissed. Alana jerked back only to realize the bus had pulled to a stop in front of the old farmhouse that had been in Trent’s family for decades—a massive three-story straight-up-and-down affair with old-fashioned sash windows and a jagged roofline meant to ward off snow. They’d built her a small single-story apartment opposite the massive lawn that stretched across the backyard. It was cozy, but comfy, and exclusively hers.

      “Here we go,” Cabe said as the door folded open.

      She leaned forward. He was the only guest arriving today. With the whir and whine of an electric motor, a ramp unfolded, and Alana caught her first glimpse of the rodeo hero inside, although she couldn’t see much. He sat slumped in his wheelchair, face in profile, the only thing that stood out clearly his off-white cowboy hat.

      “Welcome to the New Horizons Ranch,” Rana pronounced, tipping up on her toes in excitement.

      No response.

      By now, Alana’s eyes had adjusted. What she saw was a chiseled profile instantly recognizable as the one from TV. A chin so square it would do Dudley Do-Right proud, although not in a bad way. He was handsome. She had once heard someone refer to him as “hot,” thanks to his tanned skin, silver-buckle-colored eyes and dark blond hair. He had wide shoulders—not that you could see that now, not with him slumped over as he was. It looked as though he hadn’t shaved in a few days, his jaw and chin covered by at least a week’s worth of stubble. The button-down white shirt he wore under his jacket even looked rumpled.

      “Good to see you, Trent,” Cabe called out.

      No response.

      Tom hopped inside, pressed the button that Alana knew would release the chair. With the ease of someone who’d done the same thing a million times, the driver spun the seat around toward them, the longtime rodeo hero suddenly face-to-face with the small crowd that had gathered to greet him.

      “Welcome to New Horizons Ranch,” Rana repeated happily.

      Still no response.

      “Long time no see,” Cabe added softly.

      The cowboy didn’t look at them. Didn’t so much as lift his head. Not a muscle twitched.

      Tom pushed the wheelchair onto the lift. Sunlight illuminated Trent Anderson’s form. Still the same broad shoulders. The same narrow midsection. He wore a denim jacket over the white shirt and matching denim jeans, looking for all the world like the Trent from TV. It was the legs that looked different. They hung limply in front of him. And, of course, there was no horse.

      “Don’t expect much of a conversation from him,” said Tom. “He hasn’t said two words since I fetched him from the airport. Starting to think he lost his voice along with the use of his legs.”

      That got a reaction.

      “I can still walk,” Trent muttered.

      Barely, from what she’d heard. Rana had filled her in based on internet accounts. Partial paralysis of both legs from midthigh down. He’d hurt his back. There’d been talk he’d never walk again. Or ride. The fact that he had some feeling in his upper legs was a miracle, she’d been told.

      “I’ll show you to your cabin, Mr. Anderson,” Rana said, coming forward to take over for the driver.

      “Don’t touch me.”

      Both Tom and Rana leaned back.

      “I can do it myself.” His hands grabbed the wheels, spinning the aluminum frame expertly around.

      Alana took one look at Rana’s crushed face and jumped in front of the man.

      “You have no idea where you’re going.” She placed her hands on her hips and dared him to try to run her down.

      “I’ll find my way.”

      He swerved around her. She jumped ahead again.

      “You’ll stay right here while we fetch your bags.”

      For the first time, steel-gray eyes met her own. “There’s only one. Put it in my lap.”

      Put it in my lap.

      As if she was some kind of lackey or something.

      She met Cabe’s gaze, then looked over at the bus driver. They both stared at her with a mix of surprise and dismay. Tom held a small black duffel bag. She motioned for him to toss it in her direction, and when he did, immediately rebounded it into the cowboy’s lap.

      “First cabin on the left.” She stepped to the side. “Don’t let the front door hit you in the ass.”

      Three stunned faces gazed back at her, though she didn’t bother looking at Trent again. Yeah, she might have sounded harsh, but something about the man instantly drove her nuts.

      Jerk.

      Too bad she would have to put up with him for three weeks.

      She heard him set off, the wheels of his chair crunching on the gravel. Using the main road, it was a long, long way to the cabins, through the parklike area that surrounded СКАЧАТЬ