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Pine Country Cowboy. Glynna KayeЧитать онлайн книгу.

Pine Country Cowboy - Glynna Kaye


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me Janet. I’m still the librarian and a Sunday school teacher.” The woman’s gaze warmed. “I wondered if you’d remember me. It’s been such a long time. But my goodness, how you remind me of your beautiful mother.”

      “Thank you.” The compliment was well intended, but she wasn’t fooled. In reality she didn’t come close to her mother’s striking looks or her vivacious personality.

      “Do you remember me, too?”

      Abby turned to the young woman next to her who was looking at her hopefully.

      Melody. Melody. She hated this. Everyone knew who she was, but she’d been put on the spot so many times over the past few days that she’d become paranoid about meeting people. That was one more reason to get out of town. She hoped this woman about her age wasn’t another cousin. The whole town seemed to be crawling with them.

      “I wasn’t a Smith back then. Or a blonde.” Melody brushed back her layered golden tresses. “You might remember me as the chubby carrot-haired girl who tried to crawl out the second-grade-classroom window—and got stuck.”

      Abby’s eyes widened with belated recognition. What a fuss that incident had created. “Oh, that Melody!”

      “I’ve slimmed down considerably....” The young woman laughed as she spread her fingers wide to protectively cradle a barely rounded abdomen, and Abby tensed, sensing what was coming next. “But I understand that won’t last much longer. I’m due in November. Our first.”

      “Congratulations.” Abby swallowed the knot in her throat. “That’s wonderful.”

      The others joined in with cheerful words of encouragement, an exclusive little club of women who’d been there, done that, who reveled in the blessings and agonies of childbearing and motherhood.

      Grasping for a diversion, Abby turned toward the corral where Brett and Trey instructed the kids on horse safety. Trey was a handsome man, but it was the self-assured Brett who now held her attention. Brett, with the broad shoulders, dimpled grin and laugh lines crinkling around his eyes. In spite of his unapologetically flirtatious behavior, her heart beat faster.

      “Don’t pay any mind to Brett,” freckle-faced Joy commented almost as if following Abby’s train of thought. “He can’t help but turn on the charm when he’s around a female.”

      Melody laughed. “A born sweet-talker if there ever was one.”

      So Abby had pegged him right. A superficial skirt chaser.

      “Don’t be too hard on that young man,” Mrs. Logan—Janet—chided gently. “He’s got a heart of gold.”

      “He’s been in Canyon Springs about a year and a half and everyone seems to love him. Hard not to.” Mina shifted the sleeping baby in her arms. “But my advice, Abby? If you’re looking for a keeper, steer clear. I’m not sure even a lasso and piggin’ string could keep that one corralled.”

      Joy laughed, then Melody chimed in. “But let it be said that Britney Bennett isn’t one to take no for an answer.”

      “Isn’t that the truth. Poor Brett.”

      Janet smiled, shaking her head.

      Little towns. Abby had just met these women and already they were sharing advice of the heart with a total stranger.

      “Don’t worry about me.” Abby lifted her chin slightly, as if to assure them she wasn’t the susceptible sort and could take care of herself. “I’m going back to Tucson today when Davy’s finished with his lesson.”

      “So soon?” Janet’s forehead puckered. “I was hoping you’d stay awhile and could be recruited to help at an upcoming summer camp for kids. You should at least stay for church tomorrow. I’m sure there are many others who’d love to see you all grown-up.”

      Abby forced a smile, again conscious of the empty, echoing rafters above, the tinny cheep of sparrows and a horse’s whinny reverberating through the vast space. Reasons to make a getaway were rapidly multiplying. But she wouldn’t admit to these kindhearted women that she hadn’t been to church in five months. Not since the day doctors confirmed she’d forever remain childless—and her displeased fiancé had walked out the door.

      * * *

      From across the arena, Brett’s gaze again roamed to Davy’s aunt Abby. She was a pretty little filly with big brown eyes and below-the-shoulder, straight black hair demurely pulled back with a satin ribbon. Although dressed conservatively in dark gray slacks and a simple white blouse, that slim waist nevertheless invited a man to slip his arm around it and draw her close. But except for a glimpse of warmth directed at her nephew, he’d yet to see a smile and could only imagine how a laugh might transform her sadness-kissed features.

      That there was a melancholy reflected in her eyes, in her bearing, he had no doubt. Did others notice or was he too finely attuned to the nuances of sorrow? He’d worn that heavy cloak himself, hadn’t he? Sometimes it still weighed on him when he least expected it.

      “When do we get to ride?” Abby’s nephew demanded as Trey, the equine center’s manager, expounded on safety precautions when working around horses.

      The other kids nodded eagerly, including Janet Logan’s grandson, Ace, and Brett grinned. Small for his age, the fair-haired fifth-grader had good coloring today and appeared to be breathing well. That wasn’t always the case. He might not be up to every lesson this coming summer but, when it came to facing challenges head-on, the kid took after his grandma with a can-do attitude they could all learn from.

      “We’re almost to the riding part,” Trey assured the children as he turned to his own saddled horse to demonstrate mounting and dismounting.

      Today they’d let the kids ride in the corral, closely supervised, to allow them a taste of what they were here for. The next lessons would include vocabulary, equine anatomy and basics of horse and equipment care, as well as getting them started on the fundamentals of horsemanship.

      Brett glanced again at Davy, several years younger than Brett’s own son would now have been. Jeremy, who’d been held close in his father’s arms for five hard but precious years...and was now held even more tenderly by his Heavenly Father.

      Smiling down at the dark-haired boy, a deeply buried longing of his heart surfaced. Would he ever have another son? A daughter? Could he ever love another woman in such a way that she’d choose to commit to him for a lifetime and not shake her fist at God and walk out when the road became unbearably rocky?

      He again looked over the tops of the children’s heads toward the group of women seated near the gate. He’d glimpsed heartache in the eyes of Abby Diaz. With three sisters of his own, he never liked seeing a lady in distress and always did his best to cheer them up, to make things right. Maybe when they wrapped things up here he could have a few words with her. Tease out a smile. Maybe even coax a laugh.

      * * *

      “Hand over that little lady, Mina.” Brett Marden tucked his gloves into his belt and reached for the now wide-awake infant. He paid no mind to Abby, for which she was grateful. The chattering, elementary-school-aged children still dawdled as they made their way across the arena toward the adults, but Brett had beelined to the group as soon as lessons concluded.

      When the young mother released her baby to Brett’s care, he cuddled the squirming bundle close, nuzzling her until she rewarded him with a squealing, toothless grin. “She’s getting prettier every day, just like her mommy.”

      Mina gave Abby a “what did I tell you?” look, but nonetheless smiled up at Brett, basking in his generous praise.

      “Everyone says she looks like her father,” Mina corrected, and Brett pulled back with a frown to stare down into the little girl’s eyes.

      He shook his head. “I have to disagree, ma’am. Anyone who says that must be trying to get on the good side of her daddy. Everybody knows her old man’s a big ugly brute.”


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