Rich, Rugged Ranchers. Kathie DeNoskyЧитать онлайн книгу.
and brushed her lips over his softly. Tension released from his body, his stance no longer rigidly defensive. The walls of mistrust and suspicion he’d built to protect himself came tumbling down around her until what remained was the rightness of their love.
It was Logan’s ultimate surrender.
The battle was over. The kiss they shared was their beacon, a bright glow of light guiding their way out of the darkness. He loved her and she loved him. It had been complicated between them for most of their lives. But now it was just … simple.
“I love you, Logan Slade.”
He kissed her tenderly and when he spoke his voice was husky and rich with reverence. “Marry me, Sophia. Live with me on Sunset Ranch. Be my partner, my friend, my wife.”
Sophia set her palm on the sharp handsome plane of his cheekbone and gazed deeply into his eyes. “I was never any of those things before, but I want to be everything to you now. Yes, Logan. I’ll marry you.”
Logan smiled, love shining in his eyes. “I’m a lucky man.”
“And I’m a happy woman.”
He took off his Stetson and in one smooth move, placed it on her head, giving it a tug to secure the fit. “I can’t wait to make you a Slade. My father always said you were a woman who’d make a fine wife.”
They were words Sophia never thought she’d hear from Logan.
“Do you think your father set this up?”
Logan contemplated for a moment. “From his grave?”
“No, but maybe before he died? I could never figure out why he was so generous with me in his will. Do you think he wanted me to find love on Sunset Ranch?”
Logan gave the notion some thought. “It’s possible. My dad loved you like a daughter and, Lord above, everyone knew how much he loved the ranch.”
Sophia’s eyes misted with tears. “And his boys. He loved his sons, Logan. Don’t forget that.”
Logan nodded and clear understanding filled his eyes. “Maybe it was his secret wish that you marry a Slade, sweetheart.”
“It would be nice to think so. Can you ever forgive your father, Logan?”
“If he brought you to me I can surely forgive him.”
Sophia smiled and he wiped a tear from her cheek. “Then let’s just believe it as truth.”
“I can do that.”
Something good and long-lasting would come from Randall’s love for Louisa.
And perhaps their love hadn’t been wasted after all.
Sophia clung to that notion as hard and as tight as she held on to her cowboy.
With Logan’s love surrounding her, she could finally call Sunset Ranch … home.
“It won’t work.”
“What won’t?” Thalia asked. She had the nerve to look innocent.
“Trying to convince me to take the part. It won’t work.”
He had her full attention—and that was becoming a problem. Her eyes were wide-open, her lips were barely parted. All he’d have to do was lower his head.
Against his every wish, his head began to dip.
He could not kiss her; he could not be turned on by her; he could not be interested in her—but he was. She was going to ruin the life he’d made, and he almost didn’t care. It was almost worth the way she looked at him, soft and innocent and waiting to be kissed.
Almost.
Dear Reader,
Welcome to the Bar-B Ranch, home of one of the hottest heroes I’ve written, J.R. Bradley. J.R. has a secret, you see—he used to be James Robert Bradley, the hottest actor to come out of Hollywood since Brad Pitt. But he gave up the fame and money—along with the constant scrutiny and pressure—when he bought his own ranch and a whole bunch of cows.
Since then, J.R. has been—well, he wouldn’t call it hiding, but you get the idea. He’s got peace, quiet, cows and a surrogate family he trusts with his life. Yup, he’s got everything he ever wanted. Or so he thinks.
Into this carefully constructed life rolls Thalia Thorne, a producer looking for James Robert Bradley to star in a new Western movie. J.R. says no in no uncertain terms—but then a blizzard forces both of them to reconsider their positions. While the temperatures plummet outside, things inside get very hot. Suddenly J.R. finds himself questioning his entire existence. When the ground thaws, will he let Thalia leave? Or will he go with her?
A Real Cowboy is a hot story of accepting the past and redefining the future. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Be sure to stop by www.sarahmanderson.com and join me when I say long live cowboys!
Sarah
About the Author
Award-winning author SARAH M. ANDERSON may live east of the Mississippi River, but her heart lies out West on the Great Plains. With a lifelong love of horses and two history teachers for parents, she had plenty of encouragement to learn everything she could about the Wild West.
When she started writing, it wasn’t long before her characters found themselves out West. She loves to put people from two different worlds into new situations and see how their backgrounds and cultures take them someplace they never thought they’d go.
When not helping out at her son’s elementary school or walking her rescue dogs, Sarah spends her days having conversations with imaginary cowboys and American Indians, all of which is surprisingly well tolerated by her wonderful husband. Readers can find out more about Sarah’s love of cowboys and Indians at www.sarahmanderson.com.
To Robert and Nancy, the best in-laws
a woman could ask for. You don’t often get to choose
your family, but even if I hadn’t married their son,
I would have chosen them anyway.
One
The wheels of Thalia’s rental sedan spun on the gravel as the driving winds tried to push her off the road, but she kept control of the car. It was nice to have control over something, even if it was a Camry.
Because she certainly did not have control over this situation. If she did, she wouldn’t be stalking James Robert Bradley to the middle-of-nowhere Montana in what could only be described as the dead of winter. Hell, she didn’t even know if she’d find him. And, as it had been close to an hour since she’d seen another sign of life, she wasn’t sure she’d find anything.
Still, there was a road, and she was on it. Roads went places, after all. This one cut through miles and miles of Montana grassland that was probably lush and green in the summer. However, as it was late January, the whole landscape looked lifeless and deserted. Snow so old it had taken on a gray hue lined the road. If she were filming a postapocalyptic movie, this would be perfect.
At least it wasn’t snowing right now, she told herself in a forcibly cheerful tone as she glanced at the car’s thermometer. It was twenty-two degrees outside. Not that cold, really. She had that going for her. Of course, that didn’t include the wind chill, but still. It wasn’t like it was subzero out there. She could handle it.
Finally, she passed under a signpost that proclaimed Bar B Ranch, which also announced trespassers would be shot. The Camry’s wheels bounced over a metal grate a part of her brain remembered was called a cattle guard. She checked the address she’d entered into her phone’s GPS, and a sense of relief bum-rushed her. She was actually in the right place.
This