The Cowboy's Runaway Bride, page 1
The Cowboy’s Runaway Bride
A McCall Brother Romance
Laurie LeClair
The Cowboy’s Runaway Bride
Copyright © 2017 Laurie LeClair
The Tule Publishing Group, LLC
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-946772-87-9
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Dedication
To my sweet husband, James LeClair. Thank you for taking this incredible journey with me. And thank you for always believing in me. I love you with all my heart.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
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
The McCall Brother Series
Excerpt from To Love a Texas Cowboy
About the Author
Chapter One
“Look at that, Gramps. Another sucker getting hitched.” Conner McCall sat behind the wheel of his old truck in the thick, Saturday Dallas traffic.
He nodded to the long line of sleek, black limos clogging the opposite side of the lane as they inched down the busy city street.
Horns honked at the entourage taking up nearly a block and not allowing anyone to pull in or out. A few colorful shouts peppered the warm, summer air. People on the sidewalks stopped and stared.
“Pretty fancy stuff, if you ask me.” Gramps, with one hand securely on his sleeping pet miniature horse, Sweet Potato, craned his neck to see. “Maybe that will be you soon. Following in the footsteps of Cody and Caleb.”
“Oh, no. My brothers may have succumbed, but not me. Not yet. I have a long, long way to go before I settle down.” If ever. “First, we make it through this season and then we get the McCall ranch secure for the future.”
“From your lips to God’s ears. About the ol’ homestead, that is. But, you. I want for you what your Grams and I had and what your brothers found.”
“Not likely.” Conner had strong doubts their small town of Honor, Texas could provide the love of his life. Most likely he’d never find her. A little pang hit his ribs.
How many girls did he know who wanted to work and toil away on a ranch for decades to come? None he knew. And you can’t separate a cowboy from his horse, either. Not this one, at least.
Some had tried. None had succeeded. And never would.
He’d come dang close once, though, three years ago. Somewhere along the line, Conner finally figured out he’d always be her second best. Not getting stomped on again by some girl who fancies herself a cowboy for a rebound romance.
Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be for him. The love part. Somewhere deep inside, he worried he’d end up falling head over heels and losing her—like Gramps did with Grams. Conner didn’t think he could stand the crushing pain. Better to not even go there...
“Miss Peaches is single.”
His grandfather’s suggestion made him laugh. “She’s older than you, Gramps.”
“Her sister Clementine?”
Conner shook his head at his grandfather’s antics. “Not of child bearing age, may I remind you. No great-grands there.”
They shared a chuckle.
“Scratch them off the list.” Gramps grabbed an invisible pencil from behind his ear and made a horizontal line in the air.
“No matchmaking, understand?”
“Me? Why I let Cody and Caleb make up their minds, didn’t I?”
“Not that you didn’t help their romances along.”
“Now, I didn’t say that.” He admitted what they’d all known.
“Gramps, you’re a romantic at heart. Do me a favor and don’t butt in when it comes to me.” Pestering him about finding someone might just be on the top of Gramps’s list now that Conner’s brothers had tied the knot recently.
“If you say so, Conn.” Gramps sighed.
“We’ve got better things to concentrate on. I think we need to get an in with the biggest grocery store chain in Texas. We get a contract and a decent price, we can hold on to the ranch. It’s a guaranteed future income. Maybe even stop talking and start doing that more resilient breed of cattle you’ve always wanted.”
“You’re talking my language there. I like that. No exclusives, though. We need some options open. Plus, we don’t want to stop supplying the local restaurants in our own hometown. That breeding thing will take some time, though.”
The heat of the early afternoon drifted in through the open windows. And the heavy scent of fumes came with the breeze. Give Conner the country any day. “I’ve got the time and I can learn.”
“Son, hurt me something fierce when you had to drop out of college when Grams got sick.”
“Don’t dwell, Gramps. I’m working right where I want to be. The McCall ranch.” Taking care of his beloved grandfather, too, was right where Conner wanted to be.
“Light changed. They’re on the move. Uh, lookee there, must be the bride’s veil peeking out the window of the first one.”
Conner glanced in the side mirror. A gust of wind caught the sheer, white veil and sent it flying. He watched it float in the air. It landed in the crook between his truck and mirror. The lace-edged, delicate fabric fluttered and lifted.
Without thinking, he reached out, snatched it up, and then rolled it in a loose ball.
“Good catch, son.”
“I guess she’ll be wanting this back.” Conner shoved the gear in park and then undid his seat belt. “Be right back.”
In seconds, he popped open the door and then half ran down the street to catch the vehicle. His boots hit the asphalt with heavy thuds. The veil unfurled, streaming behind him. He gripped the bunched-up fabric he still held tighter. The red tail lights came on, sending a shot of relief through him.
This cowboy isn’t about to trot a mile though Dallas trailing her limo. That would be a sight to see.
He caught up to the shiny car and shoved the delicate material through the half open rear window. A feminine hand appeared at the same time, grabbed for it, and accidentally brushed her fingers along his wrist.
A current of electricity rushed through him.
Conner heard her loud gasp. She withdrew her hand instantly, along with the veil, reeling in the long fabric.
“Thank you.” Her soft voice whispered over him.
Low. Seductive. Or was the last just his imagination?
He could barely make out several shadowy figures in the dark interior before the power window rose. It shut with a smooth click.
Now, he only saw his wide eyes and slack jaw staring back at him in the reflection. He tipped his cowboy hat back and stepped away. The limo took off. The others followed.
Whoa! What the hell was that? He’d run into an electric fence with less charge than that and that was saying something.
The sound of his horn beeping over and over brought Conner back to the realization he stood in the middle of the street with moving cars charging by in front of him. Turning, he rushed back to Gramps and his truck, hopped in, slammed the door shut, and then shoved it into drive to keep up with the moving traffic.
His hand burned. He shook it, trying to rid himself of that feeling.
“You okay, Conn? About gave me a heart attack when they started up again.” Gramps calmed Sweet Potato, coming awake and rearing his head up. “Easy, little fella.”
Blowing out a breath, Conner shot his grandfather a grin, trying to smooth out the fresh worry lines gathered on the older man’s face. “Harder than dodging our charging cattle, Gramps. City folks. Never mind that, let’s get us some good barbecue before heading back home.”
“Now you’re talking. Just up ahead two blocks.” He smacked his lips. “Don’t tell your Uncle Jeb this place’s brisket is almost as good as his.”
“Not on your life. Aunt Sissy would have both our hides.”
Gramps chuckled along with him. “I appreciate you letting me ride along, son. Gives me some more time with you before you head out to the base camp tomorrow.”
“Good company. Long drive in the early hours. Picked up the pa
The ranch barely survived at the moment. If this season didn’t go well, they’d lose it all. Dread sat deep in his belly every time he thought about how they lived on the edge this last year. With his Grams dying, it rocked their world, especially Gramps, who kept too much from his three grandsons until it was almost too late.
Now, Caleb, Cody and he were doing everything in their power to save the family homestead and their legacy.
“Thought we’d have some daylight left to start fixing the trannie on the old rust bucket.” Conner shrugged and then quickly checked on the loose corner rope holding down the tarp covering the transmission. Tighten that baby up before we head out.
The last-minute repair on the ranch truck took more than a little coaxing this time. No, the part needed replacing and the closest place they could find the vintage model in Texas was Dallas.
Conner had volunteered since his two older brothers and their new brides either had second jobs outside the McCall ranch or were out on the range helping with the cattle. And their foreman and crew were too busy this time of year. Single, biding his time with packing up the last of the supplies to ride out on his horse tomorrow, he’d been the obvious choice.
“Should be home in time tonight to tuck in this little fella, though.” His voice held a smile. Gramps treated the miniature horse like a pet instead of a ranch animal.
“Don’t you be going and making wisecracks, too, Conn. I get enough of that from the others. He adopted me, not the other way around. You hear?”
“Loud and clear.”
“Just so we’re square and all.”
“Got it.”
The cars ahead stopped at the quick light. Connor braked. He glanced to the side mirror, half hoping to catch a glimpse of that limo and the mystery bride. No such luck. Nothing but trucks, cars, and SUVs chugged along—brakes squealing and exhaust coughing out the tail pipes.
She was gone.
A tiny rope of disappointment went through him.
You’re sick, McCall. She’s a bride on her wedding day. Her groom is waiting for her. Or she may have even gotten married already and he’s sitting beside her.
But he couldn’t forget the sound of her sharp intake of breath.
And the current that rushed through him...
Chapter Two
Elizabeth Eve Barrington stood before the elegantly framed oval mirror in the small, but richly appointed church bridal room. Her image in the gorgeous, one-of-a-kind designer, white wedding dress should have filled her with joy. The hours of work that went into it and how exquisite the satiny dress turned out would make some people faint at the sight of it.
Not so much her. Not any longer.
Oh, she loved the fit. And she felt like a princess in it.
However, her mind couldn’t stop thinking about that cowboy who rescued her precious late mother’s veil—when no one else would. Her heart had lurched to her throat when it whisked out of the opening. So very dear and in the blink of an eye it had sailed away. Yet, he’d risked so much to bring back the slip of material. Tall, lean but muscled, tanned, blond with vibrant green eyes, and all male, she’d nearly swooned at the sight of him filling the limo window.
Like a knight in a white cowboy hat who somehow knew how important that one piece of fabric meant to me.
And the touch...
She clasped her hands in front of her, somehow trying to shake off the riot of emotions tripping through her.
Or are you praying again to Mother to show you a sign it wasn’t real or it was only your imagination that your fingers tingled? And still do.
The sting in her eyes forced her to blink back fresh tears. “Oh, Mother, I wish you were here with me today. Why did you have to go so soon?”
Memories of her beautiful, young mother rushed back, sweet and aching. Images and sounds of her mom humming while she swirled rich, glorious colors together and then swept a soft brush across a canvas brought a hitch to Lizzie’s chest and moisture to her eyes.
Lost to me forever at eight years old...
“I will not cry. I will be brave. Even all alone.” She sucked in a breath. It bounced in the empty room; she’d shooed away her father’s secretary, her stepmother, her stepsisters-in-law, her future female in-laws, and the bridal helpers.
They weren’t who she wanted standing beside her.
No one could replace the free-spirited woman she loved with all her heart, who adored her and who she adored, and the powerful connection they shared. A bride needed her mother on this special day.
She glanced over her shoulder at the delicate veil now hanging up—her one tenuous connection.
“Tell me if I’m doing the right thing.” Or did you show me a sign when it flew out of my grasp?
Her nerves jumped at the desperate edge to her voice. She faced the mirror again.
This isn’t you. The one you’ve grown up to be. Emotional? No. You are sure and decisive. Practical, too. You know what you want. Marriage. Bring the estranged Barringtons—father, stepmother, stepbrothers and their families—together. Finally making them into the real family I’ve always wanted. Unconditional love.
Her dear father often said she, being the youngest, was the anchor holding them steady. Even when no one else in her dysfunctional family could get along, she’d made it a point to keep the lines of communication open and a huge effort to mend relationships when possible.
I guess that’s what you do when you lose a mother so young. Hang on to what little remained... Whatever it was and whatever the cost.
This was what she wanted, right? Marriage to Gavin? It would solve so many things. Uniting the divided sides of her replacement family. Mending the broken pieces. A bright, new future for them all.
So why did it seem slightly off?
The door banged open and in rushed a whirlwind of colored scarves and jangling jewelry. Tall with short, dark hair—skillfully colored to the perfect hue and framing her pretty face—the woman commanded the tiny room. Her artfully applied makeup on her smooth, wrinkle-free skin made her look years younger than she actually was. She slammed the door shut behind her and placed her hands on her hips. “Damn good to see you, Lizzie, my love!”
“Aunt Clara!” Lizzie raced to the woman and hugged her mother’s aunt tightly, feeling the arms cradle her close while being attacked by the vapors of perfume billowing from the many layers of silky material covering her crisp, cream-colored pantsuit. “You’re here. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I thought you were in some far-off land again.”
She’d sent the invitation against her father’s wishes and hoped she could coax them back to speaking terms. She hung on for a few seconds longer, welcoming the enveloping warmth of her only living relative on her mother’s side. And her favorite person.
“Me? I wouldn’t miss it. And I want to finally meet your guy. After all, he’ll be my grandnephew. I’ve been road-tripping it for days across the country just to get here. Sadly, no young stud to accompany me this time.” She stood back and gave Elizabeth a once over. Her smile grew. “Lovely. Your momma come to life.”
That made her eyes smart. “Thank you. Um, alone? All those hundreds of miles.” Lizzie gulped hard. The gutsy lady took on the world and shook it until she gobbled up all the joy and happiness she could, something Lizzie never had the courage to do.
Adventure? Her? Why, she craved normalcy and that much-desired home life, right down to the picture-perfect image of a devoted husband and two adorable kids.
Now, why did that cowboy’s face come to mind instead of Gavin’s?
“Got the yellow caddie in the parking lot. The top’s down.” Aunt Clara held up the keys. The metal jingled. “Remember the days when I’d write an excuse for you and get you out of school for the day?”
“Or from boring summer camp.” Sparks of memories flashed back. They were the best days of carefree existence with the most glamorous and spontaneous person she’d ever known.
“We’d hightailed it out of Dodge, drive for miles, stop in little out-of-the-way places.”
“Hunt out the best tips you had and find some duds along the way. You taught me everything I know about antiques.” Her love of all things precious and dear to past generations stemmed from her aunt. The women on her maternal side of the family were either artists or had some connection to artifacts and treasured pieces. Your mother’s daughter whispered through her mind.
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