One Night with a Cowboy Read online

  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 © 2021 by Sara Richardson

  Bonus novella It’s All about That Cowboy copyright © 2019 by Carol Pavliska

  Cover design by Daniela Medina

  Cover photographs © Rob Lang Photography; Shutterstock

  Cover copyright © 2021 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.

  Forever

  Hachette Book Group

  1290 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10104

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  twitter.com/readforeverpub

  First edition: March 2021

  Forever is an imprint of Grand Central Publishing. The Forever name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

  ISBNs: 978-1-5387-1716-5 (mass market), 978-1-5387-1717-2 (ebook)

  E3-20210202-DA-NF-ORI

  Table of 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

  Epilogue

  Discover More

  About Sara Richardson

  Praise for Sara Richardson

  Also by Sara Richardson

  Bonus Story: It's All About That Cowboy

  Acknowledgments

  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

  About Carly Bloom

  Fall In Love With Forever

  To Clover

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  Chapter One

  Garth Brooks had it all wrong. The best sound at the rodeo wasn’t the roar of a Sunday crowd. It was the roar of the hometown crowd.

  Weston Harding jogged into the arena at the Silverado Lake rodeo grounds, the familiar faces from his childhood serenading him with rowdy cheers. The way the audience carried on, someone might’ve assumed he was the main attraction instead of the bull riders who were getting ready to test their luck. He was no bull rider, though if you asked him, his job wasn’t any less important.

  Wes took his position on the inside of the south fence, his eyes trained on the chute. It was time to tune out everything—including the loud, succinct chant of his name, which seemed to rebound off the metal roof. He’d always been popular in Silverado Lake—a hometown boy, born and raised. To hear the locals tell it, he’d overcome a lot—the grief of losing his father in such a tragic accident, the learning disability he’d struggled with since the day he’d opened his first book.

  He’d had a hard time at school, and he’d had an even worse time after his father’s death, but now here he was, one of the most well-known rodeo clowns—aka bullfighters—in the world. Little did his friends and fans know, he hadn’t overcome the past so much as he’d ignored it. He’d escaped this town and the memories it held exactly one month after graduating from high school, intent on proving himself to the world—intent on living up to his father’s good name and making something of himself. And now he was finally back with something to show for all the blood, sweat, and injuries this gig had brought.

  Once again, he wondered if his dad knew—if he was watching from some other world. It didn’t matter how many times he stood in arenas like this, he always wondered if he’d made his dad proud.

  Wondering wouldn’t get the job done, though. Wondering brought on too many memories.

  Shutting out everything else, Wes refocused on the arena. Adrenaline simmered along with the anticipation, but it wouldn’t fully spike until that chute opened and he approached the champion bull named Tantrum. Most people said you had to be one crazy SOB to provoke a lethal bull into a good foot chase, but Wes was there to protect the rider, bottom line. Once the rider hit the dirt, Wes and the rest of his team had a responsibility to protect the cowboy by keeping the bull as far away from him as they could. He took his duty seriously. Chalk it up to the fact that he felt a responsibility to protect these riders the way he hadn’t been able to protect his own father.

  A hush finally fell over the crowd. Mikey Ruiz happened to be the first rider up, and Wes estimated it would take Tantrum T-minus two seconds to whip the man off into the dirt. For Ruiz—who was still pretty green—Wes always had to move extra fast.

  The rider climbed up onto the fence and slid onto the bull’s back. Tantrum hardly flinched, though the animal’s powerful, sleek brown body did tense. Wes had learned to read the bulls, to detect how their muscles moved so he could anticipate how to move with them—and how to get away from them.

  From the other side of the arena, Gabe—their team leader—gave the thumbs-up. Wes returned the gesture, retraining his eyes on Tantrum. The bull had given him more close calls than any of the others, but that’s what made him Wes’s favorite. You never knew what to expect; you didn’t have time to think, only to react; and nothing brought on the adrenaline rush like the thrill of the unknown.

  The countdown went quick, and then the gate swung wide open. Wes closed in on the rider, along with Gabe and their other teammate Colin, confining the bull to the corner. Sure enough, Ruiz had hardly raised his arm in the air before he went sprawling off Tantrum’s back sideways.

  Wes lurched into action, the cheers roaring in his ears. The bull jolted toward Ruiz, who still lay in the dirt, but Wes jumped between them, raising his arms and yelling who the hell knew what to distract Tantrum. The diversion worked. Instead of going after Ruiz, the bull lunged at Wes. He was ready for it, though. He jumped sideways and jogged backward while the bull charged him.

  The cheers became deafening. Wes dodged the bull twice with his best moves and then turned and sprinted in the direction of Tantrum’s exit gate.

  But instead of leaving the arena, the bull stayed hot on his tail.

  Damn. Tantrum was extra feisty today.

  Wes evaded him again and flung himself onto the fence, finding his balance with his boots
positioned on the second rung so he could raise his arms and whoop for the crowd.

  They indulged the dramatics, hopping to their feet to give him a standing ovation.

  Seeming to give up on him, Tantrum did a lap around the arena before trotting through the exit gate for his postgame snack.

  Wes did a backflip off the fence and landed on his feet in the dirt—a move he’d only recently perfected. If the crowd noise got any louder, it would shake those mountains outside.

  “Thanks, man. You’re the best.” Ruiz walked over and swatted him on the shoulder. “You saved my ass again.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.” Maybe one of these days, saving someone’s ass would make him feel something. Hell, he didn’t know what he should feel when the rider came to thank him. A sense of accomplishment maybe? As it was, he only felt something when he was running from the bull—the instinct, the adrenaline, the rush he’d come to live for. It didn’t matter how many saves he made, how many close calls he’d survived, nothing ever managed to fill the hole his dad’s death had left in his life.

  The rest of the afternoon flew by in the same blur it always did. Wes stayed focused, diverting the bulls, joking around with the bull riders when he got the chance, and adding in some flair with more backflips off the fence for the hometown crowd.

  After the last ride, he removed his protective gear and made his way down one of the chutes that led underneath the bleachers, high-fiving the fans who’d lingered until the end to say hello. All in all, it had been a perfect day—no serious injuries, a good solid lineup of riders. Hell, Wes wasn’t even as sore as he usually was.

  And yet…he couldn’t quite shake the emptiness. Damn. What was up with him, anyway? All these thoughts creating noise in his head. He usually didn’t allow himself the time to think—to reflect on what he was feeling. All that self-introspection bullshit was dangerous territory. It had to be because he’d come back home. Being here was messing with his head.

  “That was quite the show you put on out there.” Jane, his younger sister, stood at the end of the hallway. Every time he saw her lately, he had to do a double take. It still caught him off guard that his little sister was around seven months pregnant…if he remembered correctly.

  “Gotta give the crowd what they want.” He leaned in to hug her, careful of her baby bump. “Thanks for hanging out all day. I know it’s not usually your thing.” Jane had always detested anything that involved danger. But then she’d gone and married a bull rider. Go figure.

  “It was fun.” His sister’s smile brightened. “You’re really good at what you do, Wes. I’m impressed.”

  “I’m impressed too.” He eyed her belly. “You sure you’re not carrying twins in there?”

  Jane gasped in mock outrage and swatted him while he laughed. He’d always loved teasing her. “Kidding, of course. You look as gorgeous as always, sis.” Not only gorgeous, she looked…happy. There was a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there when she was younger.

  “I don’t know about gorgeous, but I’ll take it.” His sister rested her hand on her belly and smirked up at him. “Keep the compliments coming if you want to stay in the running to become the baby’s godfather.”

  “Oh, come on. I’m a shoo-in.” He slipped his arm around her and they walked side by side out into the concessions area. “Of course you’re going to pick me. We hardly ever see August.” Their eldest brother had been managing a winery out in Napa for the last several years and rarely made it home. Though Wes didn’t know what he had to offer as a godfather. Advice and wisdom weren’t exactly his specialty. Fun, on the other hand? That he could do.

  “How’s Tobster?” he asked his sister as they passed the BBQ food truck and ice cream vendor parked in line on the outside of the arena. His sister’s husband had made it past the pro rodeos all the way to the Professional Bull Riders circuit and was away at some big event in Texas this weekend.

  “Doing great,” she said dreamily. “He calls me about every hour to check in. Speaking of…” She dug her phone out of her back pocket and grinned at the screen. “Right on time. Give me a sec.” Bringing the phone to her ear, she backed away as though she didn’t want Wes to hear their lovey-dovey newlywed talk. Fine by him. He’d never been one for all that sugary sentimental crap. Though he couldn’t deny something about seeing his sister so happy—so fulfilled—made him wonder if he could make room in his life for something like what Jane and Toby had…

  And there he went, thinking again. He didn’t have room in his life for a family. Not with the constant traveling. And then there was the fact that he faced off with bucking bulls on a regular basis. One wrong move and an animal like Tantrum could end him.

  “Yo, Wes.” His boss, Craig, strode over from the line of trailers parked along the perimeter of the bleachers. “Hey, awesome job out there today.” The man took Wes’s hand in a firm shake.

  “Thanks.” As Wes was the most junior member of the team, it used to be that Craig never acknowledged him, but lately he’d made a point to find him after each event. “I figure it’s always a success when the riders walk away.” There’d only been a few times on his watch that hadn’t happened.

  “You got that right.” Craig removed his black cowboy hat and mopped sweat from his forehead. “You’ve got one of the best records of anyone out there these days. In fact, I want you on team lead next week.”

  Team lead. Wes tightened his jaw so his mouth wouldn’t fall open. “Really?” That was a huge step. He’d started working in the rodeo world as an assistant handler for the bovine athletes, and it had taken him years to find himself in the arena, only to realize that each new position was like starting all over in the chain of command.

  “Yeah.” Craig slipped his hat back on. “You’re hot right now, Harding. Careful, but also entertaining for the crowd. You’re exactly what they want out there. It’s time to put you at the top.”

  “Great.” Wes made sure to punctuate the words with a casual shrug. No big deal. He was just getting a huge promotion. Maybe this was it—the step that would finally give him more than the fleeting rush of adrenaline. He was ready for this—for something bigger.

  Of course, he had to play it cool with Craig. “I’m ready. Whatever you need.”

  “I knew you would be.” Craig gave him a businesslike nod. “I have to go catch up with Gabe, but we’ll talk soon.”

  Wes let him walk away before he grinned.

  “Wow. Team lead, huh?” Jane walked back over. She must’ve been within earshot the whole time. “Look at you—” A gasp cut her off. His sister’s eyes widened with the sudden intake of air, and both of her hands cradled her belly.

  “What is it?” Wes studied her face. She didn’t look so good. “You okay?”

  Instead of answering, his sister hunched over and exhaled with a whimper.

  “Jane?” Wes moved in front of her. Her face had paled. “Is it the baby?”

  “Not sure.” She inhaled deeply and straightened back up. “That was a weird pain, but it’s going away now.”

  Thank God for that. Pain during pregnancy couldn’t be good. “Where’s the pain?”

  “My stomach.” She massaged her belly. “I’ve felt it a few times on and off today, but it always goes away.” She peered up at him with mild concern in her eyes. “Maybe it’s Braxton Hicks.”

  Braxton what? He shot her a look. What the hell did that mean? He knew nothing about this stuff—about pregnancy and babies…

  “False contractions.” She seemed to shrug it off. “From everything I’ve read, they’re no big deal.”

  “I sure hope they’re no big deal.” He wasn’t equipped to deal with anything like contractions, and with Toby out of town, Wes was all she had. Lucky her. “Maybe we should go to the doctor—”

  His sister’s squeal cut him off. She doubled over again, clutching at her stomach. “Oh God, oh God, oh, it hurts…”

  Whoa. Wes’s heart bucked around his chest like one of those bulls back
there. Panic brought on a totally different kind of rush. “Okay, okay.” He put his arm around her to support her. “Can you make it to my truck? We need to get you to the doctor. Now.” She wasn’t supposed to be in pain. She wasn’t supposed to be having any kind of contractions right now. Not for a few more months…

  “I don’t need the clinic.” Jane stood and pushed him away. “It’s probably just Braxton—” She gasped again, and that was it. Enough messing around. Wes scooped her up into his arms and ran her to his truck in the parking lot. As carefully as possible he got her settled in the passenger’s seat and sprinted to the driver’s side. “Call your doctor.”

  “I’m sure everything’s fine,” Jane said as he slid behind the wheel, but she was still breathing hard.

  “We can’t take any chances.” Not with his niece or nephew. He shoved the keys into the ignition and gunned the engine. “Call your doc. We’ll get everything checked out to be safe.” It was either that or he was taking her to the closest emergency room.

  “Fine,” Jane grumbled, but at least she took out her phone.

  While he sped out of the parking lot and turned onto the main road, his sister explained the situation to the doctor.

  “Okay. Sure. Sounds good. We can be there in about forty-five minutes.” She hung up and pocketed the phone. “We have to go to her clinic in Steamboat. She’ll meet us there.”

  “Got it.” Wes made a quick left and maneuvered through town as fast as he dared, given the number of people out and about for the town’s annual Gold Rush Days. The weeklong festival was only just getting started with the rodeo kickoff, but the crowds had already come.

  “Oh no.” Jane’s hands flew to her stomach again. She seemed to fold in on herself, her lips twisting with pain. “What’s happening?” She raised her head and peeked over at him. The fear in her eyes locked up his chest.

  “I don’t know, but everything will be okay.” Panic gripped him by the throat. She couldn’t lose this baby. Their family had already lost too much. Images from his dad’s funeral flashed in front of him—the way he’d sat frozen in his chair during the graveside service, that final moment when the casket had been lowered into a hole in the ground. The back-bending grief came again, as heavy as it had been then.