How to Marry a Cowboy (Cowboys & Brides) by Carolyn Brown Page B

in Florida when he retires. The oldest one has an oil business in Houston. And the youngest one, who is eight years older than me, is in California. He’s in the movie industry.”
    “And they all grew up right here? I’m surprised none of them stuck around. This place is so…” She stopped.
    “So what?” he asked.
    “So peaceful and beautiful and”—she paused again before she finished with—“and soul satisfying. Sounds kind of crazy, but it is.”
    Mason nodded. “They were eight, ten, and twelve when I was born, and not a one of them liked the business. Mother said God gave me to them so the ranch would survive. I loved dirt and cows from the time I could crawl, or at least that’s what she says. What about you?”
    “Only child. Adopted.”
    For the hundredth time since she’d sold the ranch, she regretted it again. It had only been a section of land, six hundred and forty acres, with a one-story ranch house, but it had been home. And now she wished that instead of a suitcase full of money and a bank account she’d never touched, that she had the dirt and cows.
    She inhaled deeply and went on to say, “I was raised on a small ranch outside Thicket, that’s not far from Beaumont. Daddy grew Angus and dabbled around with some fancy breeds for fun. They were well into their forties when they adopted me, and they died within six months of each other when I was a senior in college. I sold the ranch a few weeks after Mama died.”
    “You sound wistful,” he said.
    “After a day with the girls, I am,” she admitted.
    “If you hadn’t sold the ranch, you wouldn’t be where you are today.”
    She smiled. “Philosophical, are you?”
    “If I am, then it’s because life made me that way. I didn’t know jack shit about babies when Holly died. Barely knew how to change a diaper, but I learned real fast. Mother offered to come live with me, but she and Dad deserved their retirement, and I wanted to prove that I could run a ranch and raise two kids all on my own. Sometimes I felt like Holly was laughing at me. I talked to her—especially that first year, and”—he stopped for a full minute before he went on—“on occasion, I still do. It took a few months, but one morning I woke up and realized I was making it work all by myself. Maybe not a good job, but I was getting it done. It’s been a long time since I liked a day as much as I have today, Annie Rose. Guess that was a lot of information all at once. When I’m nervous, I tend to use forty words when four would do the trick.”
    “So do I. It’s my second-biggest failing,” she said.
    “What’s the first?” he asked.
    She wiggled her eyebrows. “I’d tell you, but then… well, you know the rest. And you’ve got two kids that adore you and need you.”
    The silence that surrounded them wasn’t uncomfortable. It didn’t need to be filled with words or stories. Even the tension that had been between them when he sat down was more relaxed now that they were talking. He chanced a glance over at her. The moonlight danced on her blond hair as the swing moved back and forth and took her from shadows into light.
    “I should tell you,” he finally said, “that the investigator I hired to check out your story told me that Nick Trahan had a new girlfriend. She’s the one that set up that bridal thing you were in, and it’s a probability that he was there to see her.”
    Annie Rose sighed. “He vowed if I ever left him he’d hunt me down and kill me.”
    Mason laid a hand on her shoulder and she didn’t flinch. “You’re safe here on Bois D’Arc Bend.”
    “Thank you for everything. I should be going inside now. Good night, Mason.”
    “Good night,” he said. “I’m going to sit here a little longer. I’ll lock up when I come in.”

Chapter 6
    How in the hell two goats could be so wily was beyond Annie Rose’s wildest imagination. She and the girls had finished setting the table for dinner and everything was staying warm, either