Patricia Johns – Montana Mistletoe Baby (страница 1)
A COWBOY FOR CHRISTMAS?
Barrie Jones needs a Christmas miracle. Five months pregnant, she’s already the talk of Hope, Montana, because she won’t tell anyone who the father is. And now her ex, Curtis Porter, is back in town, throwing her life into chaos.
Curtis is about to retire from bull riding, which means selling the building that houses Barrie’s veterinary practice—essentially putting her out of business—so he’ll have enough money to start over. He’s the bad guy, right? And Barrie should know better than to give him a second chance, but Curtis seems different... He’s talking about settling down, maybe becoming a family man. Has Curtis really changed? And can Barrie change, too, and trust Curtis to do right by her and her baby?
“Long time no see, Curtis.”
He was about to reply when she came closer and the words evaporated on his tongue.
Barrie’s tan canvas winter coat was open in the front, and her belly swelled under a loose cream-colored sweater. She sauntered down the aisle toward him, her vet bag slung over one shoulder, and stopped at the stall.
“You’re—” He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to point out the obvious, but he’d never been a terribly diplomatic guy. “You’re pregnant.”
“I am.” She met his gaze evenly.
“Congratulations.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. Somehow, in all of his considerations surrounding seeing Barrie again, he hadn’t considered this one.
“Thank you.” For the first time, her confidence seemed to falter, and color rose in her cheeks. “You look good, Curtis.”
His jeans were mud smeared and he hadn’t shaved in several days, but he’d take the compliment. He allowed himself one more glance down her figure before he locked his gaze firmly on her face and kept it there. Her body, and her baby, weren’t his business.
Christmas isn’t always an easy time of year, but it comes around whether we’re ready for it or not. I’m glad that Christmas comes relentlessly, because I think we need the sparkle. The holidays force us to look up—to the lights, to the decorations and to the people around us. We’re never as alone as we think. I hope this Christmas is a happy one for you, and that you’re able to find some of that Christmas magic.
If you enjoyed this book and my other Hope, Montana stories, you might also want to check out my books in the Love Inspired and Heartwarming lines. I have a feeling you might like them. If you’d like to connect with me, you can find me on Facebook or at my website, patriciajohnsromance.com.
A very merry Christmas from my home to yours!
Patricia Johns
Montana Mistletoe Baby
Patricia Johns
PATRICIA JOHNS writes from Alberta, Canada. She has her Hon. BA in English literature and currently writes for Harlequin’s Love Inspired, Western Romance and Heartwarming lines. You can find her at patriciajohnsromance.com.
To my husband, the love of my life. Life with you is never dull!
Contents
Curtis Porter was too old to be a bull rider, and right about now, he felt like a failure at ranching, too. When he’d moved away from Hope, Montana, for good, he’d left behind a soon-to-be ex-wife and a whole heap of memories. He figured if he ever came back, he’d show her just what she missed out on. He didn’t count on coming back washed up.
Curtis hunkered down next to the calf in the barn stall. The calf was having difficulty breathing and looked thin. It obviously hadn’t been eating properly. Curtis had been back on the ranch only since Friday, so he couldn’t blame himself for not noticing sooner. Bovine illness could be hard to spot at first glance, but the later stages were obvious. He still wished he hadn’t missed this one—he hated the unnecessary suffering.
December was a tough month—the days being snipped shorter and shorter, and darkness stretching out well into his work hours. He did chores in the morning and evening with a flashlight while winter wind buffeted him from all directions. It wasn’t an excuse to have missed a sick calf, but it factored in.
Curtis rose to his feet and let himself out of the stall. He’d just have to wait for the vet. He was officially out of his depth. Curtis was a recently retired bull rider, and when the aunt who’d taken him in as a teen asked him to come back to help run the ranch while she recovered from a broken ankle, he’d agreed, but it wasn’t only because of his soft spot for Aunt Betty. He had other business to attend to in the tiny town of Hope—the sale of a commercial property—and he’d been putting that off for longer than his finances would comfortably allow. He no longer had the choice—he needed the money now.
Curtis’s cell phone blipped, and he looked down at an incoming text from Aunt Betty.
The vet passed the house a couple of minutes ago. Should be there any second.
There was a pause, and then another text came through.
Tried to get Palmer, but he’s out at an emergency for the night. Had to call Barrie. Sorry, kiddo.
His heart sped up, and Curtis dropped the phone back into his front pocket. Of course. There were only two vets in Hope, and his ex-wife, Barrie Jones, was one of them. At least Aunt Betty had tried for the less awkward option.
The barn door creaked open, and Curtis looked up to see Barrie framed in the doorway. From this vantage point, he could see her only from her shoulders up—chestnut-brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, no makeup and clear blue eyes—and his heart clenched in his chest. Her gaze swept across the barn, then landed on him, pinning him to the spot. Fifteen years, and she could still do that to him.
“Betty said I’d find you out here,” Barrie said, pulling the door shut behind her. The sound of her stomping the snow off her boots on concrete echoed through the barn. Then she headed past some stalls toward him. “Long time no see, Curtis.”
Apparently Aunt Betty had given Barrie time to compose herself, too. He swallowed hard and was about to reply when she came around to the aisle and the words evaporated on his tongue.
Barrie’s tan canvas winter coat was open in the front, and her belly swelled under a loose cream-colored sweater. Her walk was different—more cautious, maybe—but other than the belly, she was still the long-legged beauty she’d always been. Barrie sauntered down the aisle toward him, her vet bag slung over one shoulder. She stopped at the stall.
“You’re—” He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to point out the obvious, but he’d never been a terribly diplomatic guy. “You’re pregnant.”
“I am.” She met his gaze evenly.
“Congratulations.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. Somehow, in all of his considerations surrounding seeing Barrie again, he hadn’t considered this one.
“Thank you.” For the first time, her confidence seemed to falter, and color rose in her cheeks. “You look good, Curtis.”