The Maverick's Midnight Proposal

Should Old Acquaintance Be Forgot?

Rust Creek Ramblings

Sighting confirmed! That handsome, brooding cowboy about town is Luke Stockton—Rust Creek Falls’s long-lost son. It’s been over a decade since his parents’ tragic deaths...and Luke’s sudden departure. Our guess is he’s here to reconnect with his estranged siblings. Why, then, is Luke spending so much time at Daisy’s Donut Shop? The coffee’s great but...

Perhaps beautiful baker Eva Armstrong has him in her thrall! Careful, Eva, you’ve had enough heartbreak. Despite the sizzling kisses, Luke isn’t the marrying kind. Still, we encourage a little mistletoe mischief...after all, Christmas is the season of love. Perhaps Luke and Eva will “ring” in the New Year together. Get it? All we want for Christmas is a happily-ever-after!

She shrugged. “When someone returns to town after a dozen years, people are bound to talk.”

“No doubt,” Luke admitted, his tone grim.

“All good stuff,” she told him.

He lifted his mug, swallowed a mouthful of coffee. “It seems that you have me at a disadvantage.”

“How so?”

“You obviously know my name—and apparently a lot more—but I don’t know yours.”

She touched a hand to the bib of her apron. “Oh. I forgot my name tag today,” she realized. “Eva Rose Armstrong.”

He set down his mug and proffered his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Eva Rose Armstrong.”

She felt a tingle through her veins as her palm slid against his. His hand was wide and strong, with calluses that attested to a familiarity with manual labor. It was a man’s hand, and every womanly part of her responded to the contact.

“Eva,” she said. “My friends call me Eva.”

“Are we going to be friends, Eva?”

“I think so,” she said, not daring to admit that she already hoped “friends” was only the beginning of what they would be to one another.

“I could probably use a friend,” he admitted, releasing her hand to pick up his fork again. “I don’t think I have any left in this town.”

* * *

Montana Mavericks: The Great Family Roundup— Real cowboys and real love in Rust Creek Falls!

The Maverick’s Midnight Proposal

Brenda Harlen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

BRENDA HARLEN is a former attorney who once had the privilege of appearing before the Supreme Court of Canada. The practice of law taught her a lot about the world and reinforced her determination to become a writer—because in fiction, she could promise a happy ending! Now she is an award-winning, national bestselling author of more than thirty titles for Mills & Boon. You can keep up-to-date with Brenda on Facebook and Twitter or through her website, www.brendaharlen.com.

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

For my parents,

who exemplify the joys and blessings of home—not just at the holidays but always.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

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

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

Lee Stanton paused as he entered the room, his gaze caught by the blinking light on his phone indicating that he had a message. He picked it up to check the call history. The same number had shown up on his display more than a dozen times in the past four days, though the caller, who’d identified himself as David Bradford, had only left two messages previously. This would be the third.

He pressed the button to connect to voice mail, then punched in his access code.

“This is David Bradford again, the private investigator from Tulsa, hired by Hudson Jones to track down Luke Stockton from Rust Creek Falls, Montana. Please call me back at 539-555-6234.”

Lee hit the erase button.

The investigator was nothing if not persistent, and the client—Hudson Jones—was obviously getting his money’s worth. Unfortunately, his perseverance wasn’t going to pay off this time, because it wasn’t possible to find someone who didn’t exist, and Luke Stockton had disappeared twelve years earlier on his way to Cheyenne, Wyoming.

Lee tried to put the call out of his mind as he rummaged through the refrigerator, looking for something—anything—to throw together for dinner. After seven hours on horseback feeding cattle and checking perimeter fence, he was cold and tired and hungry. And apparently long overdue for a trip to the grocery store.

He pulled a bottle of beer out of the fridge and twisted off the cap. He tipped the bottle to his lips as he picked up the phone again, dialing from memory the number for Peppe’s Pizza.

While he waited for his dinner to be delivered, he turned on the television and flipped through the twelve channels that were included with basic cable as part of his rent. But nothing on the screen held his attention for long.

For the past dozen years, he’d walked the right side of the law, working from sunup to sundown, falling into bed exhausted at the end of the day. But no matter how fatigued his body was, he couldn’t escape the memories that continued to haunt his dreams. Memories of a past he’d wanted only to leave behind. Now he couldn’t help but wonder if that past had caught up with him.

...hired by Hudson Jones to track down Luke Stockton...

He opened the laptop he’d picked up secondhand and kept plugged in because the battery didn’t hold much of a charge. He opened a browser, then started a search for Hudson Jones.

The results were numerous and instantaneous, and a quick skim of the headlines revealed that Hudson Jones was a millionaire cowboy originally from Oklahoma. Since he knew that Luke Stockton had never been to Oklahoma and hadn’t rubbed elbows with any millionaires in his past, he figured the PI had taken a wrong turn somewhere. He was about to close the browser when a headline announcing Hudson Jones’s marriage caught his eye. The name of the man’s wife: Bella Stockton.

Bella? Married?

Stunned, he clicked on the link and found himself looking at a photo of the millionaire cowboy and his beautiful bride. The caption indicated that the couple had exchanged vows early in June—almost six months earlier.

Lee’s heart hammered against his ribs as he leaned toward the screen for a closer look. The stunning young woman in the white gown didn’t bear much resemblance to the awkward teen he remembered. Except for the eyes. Even in an online photograph, even after so much time had passed, there was no mistaking those big brown eyes.

He blinked away the moisture that blurred his vision and finally acknowledged the truth that was staring back at him: Hudson Jones’s bride was indeed Luke’s little sister.

And if her new husband had hired a PI to find Luke, then Bella must have told him about losing touch with her siblings. Maybe she’d even asked Hudson to help her find them.

Lee shook his head and tipped the bottle to his mouth again. He was only speculating about her thoughts and motives. He had no way of knowing if Bella wanted to find Luke, but the possibility tugged at him.

Half an hour later, after he’d finished another beer and half of his pizza, he finally picked up the phone and dialed the PI’s number.

Chapter One

Anticipation and trepidation wore on Luke with every mile on his tires throughout the drive to Rust Creek Falls. The scenery outside his window was a blur as memories of his first twenty-one years played through his mind like an old movie—and not one with a happy ending.

He’d traveled from Cheyenne to Butte the day before and crashed in a cheap motel. Though his body had craved sleep, his mind wouldn’t let him rest and he’d stared at the ceiling for a long time, questioning the impulse that had brought him on this journey.

When he woke in the morning, his first thought had been to turn around and go back to Wyoming.

Because he was a coward.

But apparently the fierceness with which he missed his family was stronger than his cowardice, because instead of turning back, he pushed forward.

After fueling himself with an extra large coffee, he’d started back on the road to Rust Creek Falls. Three and a half hours later, he was almost there.

His gaze searched for the familiar sign that welcomed visitors to town. Twelve years earlier the sign had been old and worn, so it was possible that the marker was no longer standing or—if it was—it might be faded so much that the paint was impossible to read. It didn’t matter. Luke didn’t need a marker to let him know he’d arrived. Even if he hadn’t recognized the terrain, he would have known it in his gut.

But twelve years was a long time, and people changed more quickly than the towns they lived in. Bella hadn’t even been a teenager when he left; now she was a woman—and a wife.

Mrs. Bella Jones.

He shook his head, still unable to believe that his little sister was all grown up, still struggling to come to terms with the time he’d lost with his family. And the staggering weight of guilt, because he knew it was his fault.

Of course, Bella didn’t know that. Because if she did, she would never have made the effort to find him. More likely, she would have been grateful that he’d left town, and happy he’d stayed away. But she deserved to know the truth—all of his brothers and sisters deserved the truth. A truth that Luke had been too ashamed to tell them, and the grief and remorse weighed on him still.

Although a dozen years had passed since he left Montana, in all that time, he’d never forgotten—or stopped missing—the family he used to have. Since he left Rust Creek Falls, not a single day passed without him thinking about the family he’d walked away from. Bailey and Daniel had gone with him, and the three oldest brothers had stuck close together—at least for a while.

Over the years, he’d lost count of the number of times he’d thought about going home—only to remember all the reasons he’d left. For Luke, “you can’t go home again” was more than a catchphrase—it was the reality of his life.

So why was he trying to change that reality now?

Because Bella wanted to see him.

He’d finally called her from the motel the night before to tell her that he was on his way. Partly because he was desperate to hear her voice and partly because he knew that if she was expecting him, he’d be less inclined to turn around and head back to Wyoming.

He’d let her down once, but he wouldn’t do it again.

Now he was finally going home—a prospect that filled him with anticipation and more than a little bit of trepidation. As a result of one foolish, youthful error in judgment, he’d lost them all: his parents—Rob and Lauren, and his six siblings—Bailey, Danny, Jamie, Bella, Dana and Liza.

His error.

He tried to push the painful memories aside, because he knew that there was no way to go back in time and do things differently. But sometimes, late at night and deep in dreams, he allowed himself to make a different choice. A smarter choice. And in those dreams, he woke up in the same house he’d lived in for the first twenty-one years of his life, his mother making breakfast in the kitchen while he crawled out of bed, grumbling about the early hour as he dressed in the dark and headed out to the barn to help his father and brothers with the chores.

And every time he dreamed about them, he awakened with such a huge, heavy weight on his chest, he wondered how it was possible that his broken heart was still beating. Then he’d grab a granola bar or pour himself a bowl of cereal and head out to the barn at whatever ranch he was currently working and throw himself into the physical labor, as if successfully wrestling bales of hay would somehow help him overcome the grief and guilt.

His foot eased off the accelerator as he approached the town limits, doubts again battering at him from all directions. Was he really going to do this? Was he, finally, after so many years, going to see his sisters and brothers again?

He’d programmed his GPS to take him to Just Us Kids—the day care facility owned by Hudson Jones’s family and where Bella was employed as a manager. The day care hadn’t existed twelve years ago, which made him wonder how many other businesses had come and gone in that period of time. Was Crawford’s General Store still the only place in town to buy a quart of milk? Did the Ace in the Hole still have the flickering neon sign that beckoned local cowboys with the promise of cold beer and pretty girls? Was the coffee at Daisy’s Donut Shop still always hot and fresh?

He could use some of that coffee now. Especially when he glanced at the display on his GPS and saw that his ETA was less than fifteen minutes.

Less than fifteen minutes after more than twelve years.

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel as he drove down Cedar Street, the winter finery on display reminding him that Christmas was less than three weeks away. Garlands and twinkling lights festooned all the storefronts, and a dusting of fresh snow on the sidewalks added to the holiday atmosphere.

Even in Wyoming, he’d heard about the flood that had devastated Rust Creek Falls a few years back, but the community had obviously come together to rebuild. He’d expected—maybe even hoped—that the town had changed, but everything looked very much the same.

He impulsively turned the corner toward Daisy’s Donut Shop, desperate not just for a quick cup of coffee but also a few extra minutes to regain control of his emotions before facing his sister.

He pushed the door open and joined the line at the counter. An elderly man, headed to a table with a mug of steaming coffee in his hand, nodded in his direction.

Just a friendly resident greeting a stranger in town—or so Luke believed until the man said, “Nice to see you, Luke.”

The gruff voice was as familiar as Old Gene’s face. “Good morning, Mr. Strickland.”

“You home for the holidays?” the old man asked.

Home.

The word tugged at something inside him.

Was this his home? He’d been wandering for so long, never setting down roots in any one place, that the word was almost unfamiliar to him.

Unfamiliar and yet oh-so-inviting.

“Just here to visit my sister,” he said.

Gene nodded. “She’ll be glad to see you.”

Luke hoped he was right.

The old man carried his coffee to a booth, where a group of his contemporaries was already seated and waiting for him.

A middle-aged man with graying hair and a much younger blonde woman stepped up to the counter next to place their order. Luke recognized the man as Ben Dalton—the only attorney in town. Ben spotted Luke when he turned to speak to his companion and his eyes widened in obvious surprise. After shaking Luke’s hand, Ben introduced his female companion.

“This is my law partner, Maggie Crawford.” Ben winked. “I stole her away from a big firm in Los Angeles.”

“Then you’re a long way from home,” Luke said to the woman.

She shook her head. “This is my home now.”

“Maggie’s married to Jesse Crawford,” Ben told him.

“Jesse went to school with my brother Bailey,” Luke explained the connection to Maggie. And he’d gone to school with Ben’s daughter, Paige.

“Small world,” she murmured.

“So it would seem,” Luke agreed. “Although Rust Creek Falls has grown even more than I realized if it’s able to support two lawyers now.”

“Four,” Ben corrected. “My daughter, Lindsay, has been working with us since she passed the bar last year. And Maggie’s brother, Ryan Roarke, hung up a shingle after he married Kristen Dalton.”

“Good to know there are options if I find myself in need of legal services,” Luke said.

“Speaking of legal services,” Maggie said. “We’ve got to get to Kalispell for a settlement conference.”

Ben nodded. “It was good to see you again, Luke.”

“You, too,” Luke said. “And nice to meet you, Maggie.”

As the two attorneys turned and walked away, he stepped up to the counter.

“Can I help you?”

He glanced from the tempting variety of sweets in the glass-fronted display case to the even more tempting woman behind the counter, and awareness hummed in his veins. Or maybe he’d just imagined the sensation. Maybe what he’d felt was simply relief that here, finally, was someone who didn’t know him or his history. Because the gorgeous blonde with wide blue eyes wasn’t anyone from his past. If he’d met her before, he was certain he would have remembered.

She followed up the question with a smile, drawing his gaze to the curve of her glossy pink lips. Yeah, her mouth looked a lot sweeter than the glazed doughnuts for sale, but he’d come back to Rust Creek Falls for one reason and it wasn’t to enjoy the local sights—no matter how pretty they might be.

“Coffee,” he suddenly remembered. “Large. Black.”

Those beautiful blue eyes sparkled with humor. “For here or to go?”

“To go.”

She selected a tall paper cup, filled it from the pot then snapped on a lid.

“Thanks.” He passed her his money in exchange for the beverage.

She smiled at him again. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

“Large café mocha with extra whipped cream.”

Eva Armstrong regretfully shifted her attention from the backside of the handsome cowboy making his way to the door to her next customer. Ellie Traub was a regular who always ordered an old-fashioned glazed along with her large mocha and carried both to a table where she’d sit with Mary and Rita Dalton—sisters-in-law by marriage—and chat about all the comings and goings in town.

“That Luke Stockton sure grew up to be a handsome man,” Ellie commented.

Eva mentally assigned the name to the cowboy, satisfied that it fit—even if it didn’t answer any of the questions racing through her brain.

“Of course, they were all good-looking boys,” Ellie continued.

“Who?” Eva asked.

“Luke, Bailey and Daniel. And Jamie, too, of course.”

She used the tongs to select a doughnut from the case and set it on a plate. “I didn’t remember that Jamie had so many brothers.”

The older woman nodded. “Rob and Lauren had seven kids altogether—four boys and three girls.”

Eva punched the order into the cash register.

“And then, when they died in that accident...” Ellie let the words trail off as she shook her head. “Of course, you were probably too young to remember that. It was close to a dozen years ago now.”

Twelve years meant that Eva would have been thirteen when they died. And now that she had the reference of a timeline, she did vaguely recall hearing about a car accident that resulted in the deaths of a local rancher and his wife and orphaned their children. In fact, one of the daughters, Bella, had been a year behind Eva in school.

She handed the customer’s change across the counter. “Have a good day, Mrs. Traub.”

“Thanks,” Ellie said, and carried her mug and plate away from the counter.

Eva turned with a smile to the next customer in line but was admittedly distracted by thoughts of Luke Stockton. In fact, she felt a little dazed after the brief encounter with the handsome cowboy, as if she’d been hit over the head with a sack of flour.

Of course, she had a habit of falling hard and fast—and always for the wrong men. But no matter how many times her heart ended up bruised, she refused to give up hope. Just like the fairy-tale princess who believed that someday her prince would come, Eva believed that her soul mate was out there somewhere.

Or maybe, just maybe, he was right here in Rust Creek Falls now.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. The doughnut shop did a brisk business, which kept her hands busy but didn’t prevent her mind from speculating about the new man in town.

“You trying to rub the Formica right off that table?” asked a voice behind her.

Eva glanced back at Tracie, the cook who worked the lunch shift. “I guess my mind was wandering,” she admitted as she dropped the cloth onto the tray filled with plates and cups that she’d already cleared away.

“Maybe it could wander back to the kitchen and get started making a lemon meringue pie.”

“I thought apple and coconut were on the menu today.”

Tracie nodded. “But I got a call-in order for a lemon meringue.” She looked at the slip where she’d written the customer’s name and number. “Lydia Grant. She’s making dinner for her fiancé tonight and apparently lemon meringue pie is his favorite.”

Eva knew that, of course. Because Lydia’s fiancé was Zach Dalton, a rancher who had recently moved to Rust Creek Falls with his father and siblings after the devastating loss of his mother in a house fire.

Unlike so many men, Zach was a traditional kind of guy who wanted to get married and have children. In fact, he was so determined that he’d even advertised in the Gazette for a woman who was an excellent cook and homemaker and loved kids, dogs and horses.

Eva had gone on a few dates with Zach before he’d fallen in love with Lydia—who didn’t have any of the traits that he’d claimed to be looking for in a wife. Now Eva, who had fulfilled all of his requirements—at least on paper—was being enlisted to make Zach’s favorite pie for his future wife to serve to him.

As she carried the tray of dirty dishes to the kitchen, she acknowledged that this was only the most recent in a string of romantic disappointments.

But her heart wasn’t heavy as she began to measure the ingredients for the pastry. Because she wasn’t thinking about Zach and Lydia’s engagement—she was thinking about the return to Rust Creek Falls of sexy cowboy Luke Stockton.

* * *

Luke sat in his truck in the parking lot outside Just Us Kids Day Care Center. Somewhere inside the brick building with the colorful sign that looked as if it had been written in thick crayon by a first grader, his sister was waiting for him. He took another minute to finish his coffee as he continued to sit and stare at the double doors that would take him from the present to his past.

He lifted the cup to his lips and let his gaze shift to the fenced-in play area where a group of kids, bundled up in thick snowsuits, hats, mittens and boots, were playing in the deep snow. Despite the frigid temperatures, they were laughing and giggling and having a great time. He didn’t know how old they were—three? four?—but watching them reminded him of Bella when she’d been a similar age.