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And Cowboy Makes Three
And Cowboy Makes Three

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And Cowboy Makes Three

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She fled their wedding years ago

Now she’s back…with a baby!

Coming home with a baby and no wedding ring was just what everyone in Cowboy Country expected from bad girl Angelica Carmichael. But she’ll brave their scorn to fulfill Granny Frances’s dying wishes, even if it means ranching with Rowdy Masterson…her jilted ex-groom. Rowdy’s still bitter but this new, softer Angelica—paired with a precious baby—might be too loveable to resist!

A Publishers Weekly bestselling and award-winning author with over 1.5 million books in print, DEB KASTNER writes stories of faith, family and community in a small-town Western setting. She lives in Colorado with her husband and a pack of miscreant mutts, and is blessed with three daughters and two grandchildren. She enjoys spoiling her grandkids, movies, music (The Texas Tenors!), singing in the church choir and exploring Colorado on horseback.

Also By Deb Kastner

Love Inspired

Cowboy Country

Yuletide Baby

The Cowboy’s Forever Family

The Cowboy’s Surprise Baby

The Cowboy’s Twins

Mistletoe Daddy

The Cowboy’s Baby Blessing

And Cowboy Makes Three

Christmas Twins

Texas Christmas Twins

Email Order Brides

Phoebe’s Groom

The Doctor’s Secret Son

The Nanny’s Twin Blessings

Meeting Mr. Right

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

And Cowboy Makes Three

Deb Kastner


www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08428-4

AND COWBOY MAKES THREE

© 2018 Debra Kastner

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

She looked beautiful. That much hadn’t changed.

But it was the only thing that hadn’t changed.

“How’s Toby doing?” she asked as she popped the top on a can of Rowdy’s favorite soda.

“Sleeping again. He’s really cute. Still sucking his fist, even when he’s napping.”

Angelica handed Rowdy the soda and took Toby into her arms, landing a soft kiss on her baby’s cheek before gently placing him in his car seat so she and Rowdy would have their hands free to eat.

“Still your favorite?” she asked, gesturing toward his soda can.

He lifted the can in salute. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

Another flash of pain crossed her gaze.

“I remember a lot, if truth be told.”

So did he.

And he really, really wished he didn’t. Because with every unexpected glimpse into their past, every unanticipated memory, it became harder and harder to catch a breath.

He hadn’t been ready to see her again.

And he wasn’t sure he ever would be.

But I trusted in thee, O Lord:

I said, Thou art my God.

My times are in thy hand.

—Psalms 31:14–15

Dear Reader,

What fun it is to head back into Serendipity, Texas, and auction off yet another bachelor for the town’s First Annual Bachelors and Baskets Auction benefiting the senior center.

I took a bit of a detour with this book. Serendipity is a cattle town and, generally, cattle ranchers and sheep farmers don’t mix. But after I read an article about raising sheep, complete with adorable pictures of newborn lambs, I decided Rowdy’s and Angelica’s families would be exceptions to that rule.

They say art often imitates life. In this case, Angelica’s bird phobia? Yeah, that would be me. Dive-bombing hummingbirds rank right up there as one of my worst nightmares.

I’m always delighted to hear from you, dear readers, and I love to connect socially. You can find my website at www.debkastnerbooks.com, where I hope you’ll join my mailing list to learn of new projects and special offers. Come join me on Facebook at www.Facebook.com/debkastnerbooks, and you can catch me on Twitter @DebKastner.

Please know that I pray for each and every one of you daily.

Love courageously,

Deb Kastner

To my dear friend Lisa Palmer. We’ve kept each other sane through the years and I am blessed to call you my friend. You are one of the strongest people I know. Keep fighting the good fight!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Bible Verse

Dear Reader

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

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Angelica May Carmichael had been duped.

By her own grandmother.

She looked around and sighed in exasperation. This wasn’t a picnic.

Or rather, this wasn’t just a picnic, though there were brightly colored baskets covered in ribbons dotting the lawn all across the community green.

Not a picnic. Picnics.

And this wasn’t a quiet, personal outing with Granny’s best friend, Jo Spencer, as Angelica had been given to expect, either. Not that an outing with the boisterous old redhead who owned Cup O’ Jo’s Café could ever be labeled as quiet. That woman wouldn’t know quiet if it bit her on the nose.

But a private picnic?

Yeah, not so much.

In hindsight, Angelica realized she should have gone with her gut feeling and headed straight to Granny’s ranch instead of stopping in at Cup O’ Jo’s to let Jo know she’d arrived safely. A phone call would have sufficed.

But no. Jo had been adamant she come straight to the café, sounding a bit too enthusiastic about seeing her again. Everything about Jo Spencer was enthusiastic, but her suggestion had been overanimated even for Jo.

She’d even anticipated Angelica’s hesitation, telling her to slip through the back door of the café. She’d assured her that she wouldn’t be seen by any customers, and that her nephew, Chance, the cook who would no doubt be in the kitchen, would keep their secret. He wasn’t much of talker, anyway.

If only she hadn’t been in such a hurry to get into town and out again without being seen that she hadn’t recognized the signals, the internal alarms blaring in her head.

Their meeting was only supposed to be her and Jo. Having been Granny’s best friend, Jo understood Angelica’s dilemma at returning to Serendipity at all—or at least Angelica had thought she had.

“Oh, honey, welcome back,” Jo had said, hugging her so hard it pressed the breath right out of her lungs. “And let me see sweet Toby.”

Jo had exclaimed over the newborn and then had handed her a letter written by her recently deceased granny, addressed with only Angelica’s first name and scribbled in Granny’s chicken-scratch handwriting.

“Consider it a last request,” Jo had suggested.

Directions?

More like a cryptic note.

Picnic With Jo.

It was a strange thing to ask, but Angelica figured it was the least she could do since she hadn’t been able to be there for Granny’s last days—or even her funeral. If she hadn’t followed the instructions out of love for Granny, she would have followed them out of guilt.

Which was why she had found herself smack-dab in the middle of a full-fledged town event, Toby tucked into a front pack.

Serendipity did their parties up right, and, as usual, nearly everyone in town was present, enjoying every moment of the event. Here in Serendipity, a person could expect to find a lot of love and laughter.

But even as a youth, Angelica had struggled to capture the happy spirit of the town celebrations. And no wonder. For as long as she could remember, she’d been the town pariah, as well as her family’s.

And after the catastrophic series of events that sent her fleeing Serendipity on the eve of her own wedding rehearsal, well, she didn’t expect anyone to forgive her—least of all her ex-fiancé, sheep farmer Rowdy Masterson.

Standing right in the middle of a large crowd of people, most of whom had known her back in the day and had no doubt not forgotten her or her mistakes, was exactly the type of situation Angelica had most wished to avoid.

Thankfully, the event in progress was an auction, with Jo as auctioneer. Something about making money for a new senior center. Everyone was busy watching the platform, where one of the young bachelors on the docket was flexing his biceps for a very appreciative crowd.

Just as long as it kept her out of the limelight, she was good. She’d come back home to Serendipity on the sly, for one weekend only, with a deliberate and strategic agenda. Since she would be staying at Granny’s now abandoned sheep farm, she hadn’t expected to see anyone other than Jo Spencer, who had been named the executor of Granny’s estate, and Granny’s lawyer, Matthew MacPherson, who would guide her in whatever next steps she needed to take to fulfill the terms of Granny’s will—and to sell the ranch.

She’d most definitely had no intention of interacting with all the people who’d known her back then. People who would stand as judge and jury on the way she’d lived her life—especially since she’d arrived back in town with a baby in tow and no ring on her finger.

She didn’t understand what was going on right now. She and Granny had planned to get together this precise weekend, even before Granny’s health had taken such a downhill spiral. She had the sinking feeling Granny had something planned for this auction, something that Jo was now tasked with making sure Angelica followed through on.

Angelica might not be able to avoid the crowd today, but she prayed with her whole heart that she’d at least be able to steer clear of Rowdy. She didn’t want to be responsible for suddenly triggering thoughts in Rowdy of a painful past he would no doubt rather forget.

She didn’t want to hurt him. Not for the world.

Because long ago, in her youth, she had been in love with him, believing they were soul mates who would grow old together, live happily-ever-after.

Until she’d ruined everything.

Anyway, he’d probably moved on with his life. Perhaps he had even married and started a family. She’d been too ashamed to ask Jo how Rowdy was doing. She was grateful that, so far, she hadn’t laid eyes on him, and she hoped to keep it that way.

Her stomach churned like a combine across her nerves and it was all she could do not to be sick. Not for the first time that day, she wondered if she ought not leave before someone recognized her.

Her soft pink hoodie was made of a light cotton material, but she felt uncomfortably warm and stifled as she stood near the back of the crowd on the small-town community green, attempting to remain incognito while surreptitiously watching to make sure Rowdy was nowhere in the vicinity.

Up to this point, no one had appeared to take much notice of her, as everyone’s attention was still completely absorbed in what was taking place upon the wooden platform currently serving as an improvised auction site.

Serendipity, Texas’s First Annual Bachelors and Baskets Auction was already well under way, with many bachelors—and several married men, as well—already lassoed off the stage and into the care of their winning bidders, ladies beaming and cheering in delight over their triumphant purchases.

What had started as a regular bachelor auction had quickly expanded to include married men offering their skills at fixing dilapidated houses or old cars. The ladies could bid on whatever man had the skills to match their projects.

Several of the cuter bachelors had been purchased not so much for their practical skills as their good looks and the possibility of a date. The single ladies weren’t about to pass up such a grand opportunity.

Not to be outdone by the men, the local women had offered to share decorated picnic baskets brimming with good, homemade country cooking with the fellows they won.

Which explained the picnic.

She wished Granny was still around to explain to her what all this was about. Why had Granny wanted her here?

But then, if Granny was still around, Angelica wouldn’t be conspicuously standing in the middle of the community green, feeling as if she had a fluorescent sign flashing over her head announcing her return.

Prodigal Daughter’s Homecoming.

Out of nowhere, guilt assaulted Angelica, burning her insides. Through no fault of her own, she’d had to miss the end of Granny’s life and even her funeral. But that didn’t stop her from feeling bad about it.

Regretful.

Too little, too late.

If only Granny had lived long enough to see this weekend with Angelica. How different life would be then.

She held on to her new faith by the tips of her fingers, but there was so much she still didn’t understand. God’s ways were different than man’s, but how could He have let this happen, just when she’d discovered the joy of knowing Christ?

Granny was still supposed to be alive. When she’d suddenly fallen gravely ill, Angelica had wanted to rush to her side, but there had been complications with the pregnancy and she couldn’t travel.

Granny had insisted everything would be okay.

But it hadn’t been okay.

Granny had passed far too soon.

Oh, how she would have loved her namesake, precious Toby Francis Carmichael. Angelica’s heart broke every time she thought about it.

They’d intended this weekend to be a special get-together so Granny could meet Toby, but she’d passed away the very day Toby was born.

Since Angelica’s travel plans had already been made, she hadn’t seen any reason to change or cancel them. She had come home to pay her respects and meet with the lawyer, not attend a party.

Get in and get out. And the less people who knew about it—about her—the better.

The whole atmosphere was charged with joy and excitement, but Angelica, with a baseball cap pulled low over her brow and her hoodie over that, wasn’t feeling either one of those emotions.

It had been eight long, painful years since the last time she’d attended a Serendipity function.

Her heart clenched and her emotions took a nosedive. She’d never been anything more to this town than the token troublemaker, no matter how hard she’d tried to change people’s opinions of her.

Eventually she’d stopped trying.

Despite Angelica’s faults—and what she now realized was a defensively bad attitude—Granny had understood her.

And Rowdy had loved her.

Had being the operative word.

Her thoughts were abruptly called back to the present when Toby, tucked reassuringly close to her shoulder, sighed in his sleep and sucked on his fist, momentarily shifting Angelica’s attention away from the platform. Toby was such a sweet, beautiful baby, a real blessing in every possible regard.

Granted, as his mother, Angelica knew she was a little bit biased.

“If I can have your attention, please,” Jo announced, pounding a gavel against a podium that had been brought over from the town hall. “We still have several fellows lookin’ to be bid on here and a senior center still needin’ to be built. And who knows? The best guys might be yet to come. You don’t want to miss out on your perfect match ’cause you’re too busy jawin’ with your neighbors.”

Since Jo was serving as the auctioneer, she had ditched Angelica with not so much as a second glance, much less an explanation.

It shouldn’t bother her to be left alone. She’d been on her own most of her adult life. But it hurt her nonetheless. Maybe because she felt she was underneath an unseen spotlight.

Or maybe because Jo was a friend.

Angelica had been left to the mercy of the throng as it grew tighter toward the platform, pushing her with them. Her anxiety level rose exponentially as she became farther engulfed by the crowd.

So much for a calm, peaceful picnic.

Angelica pulled Toby a little closer, murmuring soft nonsense words in his ear and tucking her head close to his, inhaling his sweet, soothing baby scent. She reassured herself with the thought that, very soon, this would all be over and she could hightail it out of town and back to Denver where she belonged.

Or not belonged, really. She didn’t fit in anywhere. But at least she wasn’t under the constant judgment she felt sure she would find here in Serendipity.

“All right, folks,” Jo announced with a boisterous bounce in her step that sent her red curls bobbing. When the crowd didn’t immediately quiet, she pounded her gavel on the podium several times until she was certain she had everyone’s attention.

“Next up on the docket,” she called, her voice overriding the little section of the crowd that was still speaking, “is a Serendipity fan favorite, especially among the ladies. Drumroll, please. Let’s hear it for Rowdy Masterson!”

Angelica’s breath froze in her lungs as she slowly raised her head.

Rowdy.

At the first sight of him, her heart jolted to life and then dropped like a boulder to the pit of her stomach, where it rumbled around disturbingly.

The crowd roared as Rowdy stepped up onto the makeshift wooden platform, his mouth creased in a friendly grin. Much had changed over the years, but not Rowdy’s smile.

A shiver of awareness vibrated through Angelica at her first glimpse of the man she knew so well, and paradoxically, didn’t know at all.

Rowdy.

Angelica cringed as he stepped forward, still slightly favoring his left leg when he walked.

So his injury had never completely healed, then. The inside of her head reverberated, her guilt clanging like a gong, and a wave of nausea washed through her.

Rowdy’s injury?

That was all on her.

It was enough to shatter her heart all over again.

Yet another prayer left unanswered. She had so wanted Rowdy to be healed completely of his injuries. If it hadn’t been for her pressing him to participate in the saddle bronc event he hadn’t been prepared for, he wouldn’t be limping in the first place.

Other than the way he clearly put additional effort into moving his left leg over his right, time had been good to him. He was as handsome as ever, with thick wavy blond hair and warm blue eyes. Strong planes defined his masculine face, weathered from the sun and shaded with a couple days’ growth of beard, giving him a rugged air.

He’d filled out in the years since she’d last seen him. His shoulders were broader and his muscles more defined from ranch work.

Not surprisingly, Rowdy didn’t have to entertain the crowd by doing tricks or flexing his muscles to get their attention, as other men before him had done. He merely flashed them his signature toothy grin and gestured with his fingers for his rapt audience to increase their applause. The resulting hoots, catcalls and laughter made Rowdy’s grin widen epically, and he tipped his hat in appreciation.

She remembered Rowdy’s smile all too well, along with the whispered words of a happy future meant just for the two of them alone to share.

An ugly, dark feeling churned in her gut and she swallowed hard against the bile that burned in her throat.

She counted those days as nothing more than the naïveté of youth, when they still thought they had their whole lives before them and that they could weather any storm life threw at them as long as they were together.

When they’d believed they were invincible.

They hadn’t yet comprehended that life could change in a moment.

But they’d learned. Oh, how painfully they’d learned.

It had only taken one second for their whole world to come crashing down around them.

One second.

And some things a person never recovered from—physically, emotionally or spiritually.

“Hush down, now,” Jo called, rapping her gavel to regain control of the crowd. “Quiet!”

A group of laughing young women near the front of the crowd immediately started bidding on Rowdy, cheerfully one-upping each other before Jo could officially open the bidding.

“Wait, wait. No bids, please,” Jo said, holding her hands up to stop the ladies from continuing.

The noise of the crowd immediately dropped to a hushed whisper.

“We’ve got a special case here with Rowdy, today,” Jo continued. “I’m sorry to disappoint all you single ladies out there, but Rowdy has already been bought and paid for before this auction even began.”

People gasped in astonishment.

“That’s not fair,” came a youngish-sounding female voice from the crowd. “No one else got to do that with any of the other men.”

The crowd rumbled in agreement.

Angelica continued to keep her head low but her ears were perfectly attuned to Jo’s words. She had a lot of questions that she was certain were echoing through the crowd.

Who had enough wherewithal to convince Jo to bend the rules of the auction?

Maybe a better question would be—how?

Jo tended to rule with an iron fist when she was in charge of an event—which she usually was. Between the two of them, Jo and her husband, Frank, the head of the town council, kept Serendipity running smoothly.

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