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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Sara Richardson

  Excerpt from Renegade Cowboy © 2017 by Sara Richardson

  Cover design by Elizabeth Turner

  Cover copyright © 2017 by Hachette Book Group, Inc

  Hachette Book Group supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

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  First Edition: June 2017

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  ISBN 978-1-4555-4077-8 (mass market edition)

  ISBN 978-1-4555-4078-5 (ebook edition)

  E3-20170420-DA-PC

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Epilogue

  An Excerpt from RENEGADE COWBOY

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Sara Richardson

  Acclaim for Sara Richardson's Previous Novels

  Fall in Love with Forever Romance

  Newsletters

  To Melissa Lee,

  one of the best mamas I know.

  Chapter One

  The best thing about grand vintage houses was not the ornate crown molding, or the heavy wooden five-panel doors, or even the charming antique accents.

  Nope. Those details were nice and all, but the best thing about old houses were the secrets protected within their walls.

  Naomi Sullivan could relate to secrets. She’d carefully guarded a few whoppers of her own. While her own secrets tended to stalk her, she found other people’s secrets fascinating.

  Admiring the large bow window that welcomed in the early morning sunrays, Naomi breathed in the scent of old wood and dust. Truly, the place was a mess. No one had lived here since old Mrs. Porter had passed away four years ago. The original parquet floors were scuffed and dirty, the thick cherry trim discolored with grime. But somehow the Porter House still charmed her the same way it had when she was a young girl and she’d ride her bike past it every morning on her way to school.

  It had always reminded her of something out of a storybook—whimsical and romantic. The structure itself was a Queen Anne Victorian with a steeply pitched roof, a dominant front-facing gable, and overhanging eaves. The siding had been well kept and was painted a lovely cloud blue, with the trim accented in an elegant cream. Classic columns held up a wraparound porch complete with intricate spindle work.

  Naomi wandered to the window and peered out at the front lawn. The gardens had gone to ruin, but the grass still grew green and thick. She supposed that was something. Turning back to Colton, her real estate agent, lawyer, and oldest childhood friend, she felt that telltale flicker of passion spark in her chest. “It’s perfect. I’ll take it.”

  Colton simply tsked at her and shuffled his four-hundred-dollar loafers over to where she stood. “No so fast. It’s not even officially on the market yet.” His head tilted with a healthy dose of sass. “And how’s that business loan coming, hmmm? Are the papers signed? Is the money in your account?”

  “It will be,” she fired back, though she wasn’t nearly as gifted in the sass department as he was. “It’s all in process.” And everything would go through. She would get that business loan. She would move off the Cortez Ranch, and she would open her own bed and breakfast by next winter.

  Damn it.

  “‘In process’ won’t cut it,” Colton informed her. “If you want me to make a deal with the Porter family before they list it, I’ll need the cash, honey.”

  “I should have it by the end of the week.” At least, she’d better.

  She passed underneath an archway and carefully ran her hand over the solid banister that swirled up the staircase in the foyer. She’d done everything required to submit the loan application and the banker had all but told her she was a shoo-in. Working at the Cortez Ranch and living there rent-free for the last ten years had allowed her to save plenty of money, so she only had to borrow enough to purchase the house, do some renovations, and buy the furniture. Besides that, she had outstanding credit and always paid her bills on time.

  There was no way the bank would turn her down.

  She peered over her shoulder and flashed Colton her most persuasive smile. “Tell the Porters not to bother putting the house on the market. I’ll take it. As my lawyer, you can do all the paperwork and cut your rate in half.”

  He laughed. “You know I’m not that generous.”

  “Come on now,” she scolded. “I’ve done you plenty of favors over the years. I always covered for you whenever you got home late.” Seeing as how they’d grown up next door to each other, she’d been around to bail him out when he needed it. “And then there was that time sophomore year when I pretended to be your homecoming date so your parents wouldn’t know you were really going with Thomas.” Which meant she hadn’t had a real date to her own homecoming. She stabbed a pointer finger into his chest. “You owe me big for that.”

  “True enough,” he conceded, heaving out a martyr’s sigh. “All right. Fine. I’ll have a talk with the Porters and get the ball—”

  Her cell phone broke out into song and cut him off.

  He eyed her with disdain. “Still haven’t changed that awesome Bieber ringtone, huh?”

  “I don’t know how,” she snapped, digging it out of her purse. Her friend Darla had changed it as a joke. “If it annoys you so much, why don’t you change it?” she asked, glancing at the screen.

  “Who is it? Tell them you’ll call them back so I can change that appalling ringtone.”

  Her heart sped up. “It’s Lance.” Her boss at the Cortez Family Ranch, who’d actually become more like her big brother. The man who’d given her and Gracie a place to live after her ex had wa
lked out on them. The man who was marrying her best friend, Jessa, soon.

  “You haven’t told them you’re quitting yet?” Colton asked when she clicked off the phone and stuffed it back into her purse.

  “Not yet.” She looked around the room again, fear swirling in with her excitement. “It doesn’t seem wise to say anything until I’m sure it’ll work out.” There was no reason to get anyone riled up. And all Jessa had talked about recently was the fun they’d have living as neighbors on the ranch.

  “You have quite the connection with the Cortez family,” Colton reminded her. “Once you move here things will change.”

  “Things need to change.” Lance and Jessa deserved to have their own space. He’d just retired from bull riding and would be reorganizing things at the ranch anyway. In the last several months, he’d started a stock contracting operation to supply bulls on the circuit, which meant he was heavily involved in the day-to-day operations now. He wouldn’t need her to keep the books anymore. “Besides, this has always been my dream.”

  “You sure you’re not just running away from Lucas?” Colton always liked to hit people between the eyes with the truth. He knew exactly how she’d once felt about Lance’s brother. But she refused to flinch.

  “This has nothing to do with Lucas.” As the lie tumbled from her lips, she fell back through the years, forced to relive the memories she’d tried so hard to block out.

  The day Lucas Cortez, the love of her young life, had been arrested for arson. When they’d taken him away in handcuffs, she’d run after him, sobbing, begging the officer to let him go, insisting he wouldn’t have done it. He wouldn’t have burned down the rodeo grounds intentionally.

  Lucas had turned to her, this seventeen-year-old man she’d known most of her life. The man she’d loved for two years. The man she’d dreamed about building a future with. His face had been cold when he’d told her to go back home. “It’s over, Naomi. I’m going to prison. You need to move on.”

  For years, she hadn’t known how. Lucas had taken a chunk of her heart that day, leaving it paralyzed. After a shocking pregnancy and a failed marriage, she’d done what she’d had to do to raise her daughter by herself. Then, last fall, Lucas had come home when his father was diagnosed with Parkinson’s.

  “How long is he planning to stay in Topaz Falls anyway?” Colton asked innocently.

  Yeah right. He knew good and well this topic was off limits. “I don’t know.” Over the last months, Lucas had split time between his family’s ranch and his full-time employer, the McGowen Ranch, but eventually he’d go back to Pueblo for good. And it was just as well. She’d shut the door on the what-ifs of her past long ago. She’d carefully locked up her own secrets, and she didn’t need them breaking out now. “I haven’t talked to Lucas much,” she reminded Colton.

  The truth was, she hadn’t been able to face him. She’d made sure to keep extra busy, volunteering at school and at Jessa’s animal rescue. She’d even taken Gracie to visit her parents for a month over winter break.

  When she’d seen him for the first time in ten years, her heart had buckled, filling her with a pained joy. But so much time had passed. They were both different people. Now everything in her life came down to her daughter.

  The moment Gracie was born—that moment she’d held her in her arms and cuddled her against her breast—every fear went away, and Naomi realized she’d never be alone again. She was a mother and she would forever be connected with another soul. That bond had changed everything for her. It had made her brave.

  “So this is what you want,” Colton asked, dipping his chin to give her eyes a good cross-examination. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.” Be brave. It was time for her to show her daughter she could do anything she wanted.

  It was time to prove she could make all of her own dreams come true.

  * * *

  The decision shouldn’t be this hard.

  Lucas brought his arm back over his head and launched the fishing line, arcing it in a perfectly timed dance, striking the fly against the water to entice the cutthroat trout he knew to be hiding in one of those deep holes on the edge of the riverbed. Ripples circled the small fuzzy hook at the end of his line, mimicking a real fly’s movements on the water’s sleek surface.

  He did his best thinking out here—standing waist-deep in his thermal waders, still feeling the chill of the snow runoff that barreled down the mountain streams and into the Topaz Falls River. It was high for this time of year—the weather had been unseasonably warm for weeks, melting the mounds of snow that had built up on the peaks.

  The sun had only just started its descent to the west, hovering stubbornly over the rocky horizon, casting enough light and warmth that he didn’t need a coat. In some ways, he loved it here. After being away from Topaz Falls for ten years, coming back had been nostalgic. He couldn’t go anywhere in town without memories flooding him—good memories of him and his brothers riding their bikes to the general store for candy, of building forts in the woods, of riding their horses up the mountain trails.

  But his best memories had taken place right on that riverbank over there. Long evening picnics with Naomi, his high school sweetheart. The woman he’d left behind so long ago.

  They’d stuff a saddlebag full of food from the pantry and ride out here. He’d spread the blanket on the ground and they’d eat in the surreal glow of a setting sun. When dusk had settled, they’d wrap themselves up in that blanket, kissing and touching each other, and eventually making love in the tall grass.

  Memories of Naomi constantly seemed to churn through him, dredging up the past, giving him glimpses of their two years together. Those images were etched into his soul…her head tipped back while she laughed, that long, wavy red hair spilling down over her shoulders and catching the sun’s light.

  That—she—was what made his impending decision so hard.

  With no strikes at his line, Lucas wound the fly rod’s reel. He had to get back to the ranch, anyhow. His younger brother was throwing yet another shindig in honor of Lance’s wedding. Or should Lucas say Levi was throwing it for himself? No one loved a good party as much as Levi.

  As he worked the reel, the fly slowly skidded across the water’s surface, closer and closer, tying up his scattered thoughts along with it.

  A relationship with Naomi now wouldn’t be practical. Hell, she didn’t even seem to want him. Ever since he’d been back, she’d avoided him. And why wouldn’t she? Why would any woman want to be with a convicted felon who’d done time? The rest of the town surely didn’t want him to stick around. They’d made that abundantly clear.

  Small towns like Topaz Falls, Colorado, had long memories and no one wanted to welcome back the man who had supposedly burned down a stable, killed two bulls, and forever ruined the town’s chances of hosting another rodeo on the circuit. Regret rebounded against the walls he’d put in place to hold it off.

  All these years, he’d never let himself question if he’d done the right thing covering for Levi. Out of the three of them, his younger brother had taken it the hardest when their mom left, and got into all kinds of trouble. He’d set the fire after finding out their father was having an affair with the rodeo commissioner’s wife. Trying to protect his brother, Lucas had stepped up to take the blame, sure he’d get off easy. Instead, he’d gotten the maximum sentence—three years in prison. But sometimes it felt like he’d pay for that fire his whole life.

  Didn’t matter that he hadn’t done it. Didn’t matter that he’d gotten out of prison early on good behavior. Didn’t matter that he’d built a fucking empire for the McGowen Ranch outside of Pueblo in the years since.

  Didn’t matter who he was now.

  That’s why he figured he should head back down south. Bill McGowen had called him up last week and told him he was sorry Lucas’s father had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s but they were gearing up for the competition season and he needed him back. Which meant he needed Lucas to make a decision. Return
to manage his stock, or he’d have to find someone else.

  Lucas trudged to the riverbank, his legs fighting the current. He should’ve told the man then that he’d come back, but his mind had conjured up this image of Naomi in his arms and, before he knew what he was saying, he’d told Bill McGowen—one of the most powerful men in the rodeo world—that he’d need to think about it and he’d let him know after Lance’s wedding.

  Damn the power of hope.

  Sighing, he kicked off his rubber boots and stepped onto the soft bank, where he peeled off his waders. Then he took apart the fishing pole and stored it in the cylinder carrying case.

  After shoving the gear into his backpack and slipping into his leather boots, he hoisted the pack onto his shoulders and tramped down the narrow trail that led back to the highway where he’d parked his truck. Even before he reached it, he knew something was wrong.

  All four tires were flat—slashed, the shredded rubber lying limply on the asphalt. And there was a glaring orange word spray-painted across the tailgate.

  Felon.

  That label. That damn label. It’d be slapped on him forever. He jogged down to the road to assess the damage. At least they hadn’t shattered the windows. Shaking his head, he dug out his phone, but of course there was no service out here in the river valley.

  If he needed confirmation that he didn’t belong in Topaz Falls, there it was.

  Looking over the damage again, his hands fisted. But anger wouldn’t do him much good out here. Hiking his backpack higher on his shoulders, he sucked it up and set off on foot, following the curve of the highway, boots pounding the packed gravel on the shoulder.

  He’d have to walk the eight miles back to the ranch.

  This was the whole reason he hadn’t come home after he’d been released from prison. He’d wanted freedom—a life where no one knew about his past. McGowen didn’t care that he’d served time. Hell, he thought it made Lucas more of a badass. When he’d shown up at Bill McGowen’s front door after he’d been released from prison, the man had laughed at him. But Lucas begged him to give him one week to prove what he could do, and the man seemed to appreciate that.