Her Texas Cowboy

The sweetest reunion in Texas...

When Rachel Maddox returns to her hometown of Fredericksburg, Texas, avoiding her ex is much easier said than done. Still nursing the broken heart Rachel caused years earlier, rancher next door Hunter McDermott figures he can be cordial for the brief time she’s in town—maybe they can even be friends. But how do you forge just a friendship with someone you’ve always pictured as your bride?

JILL LYNN is a member of the American Christian Fiction Writers group and won the ACFW Genesis Contest in 2013. She has a bachelor’s degree in communications from Bethel University. A native of Minnesota, Jill now lives in Colorado with her husband and two children. She’s an avid reader of happily-ever-afters and a fan of grace, laughter and thrift stores. Connect with her at jill-lynn.com.

Also By Jill Lynn

Love Inspired

Falling for Texas

Her Texas Family

Her Texas Cowboy

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Her Texas Cowboy

Jill Lynn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08424-6

HER TEXAS COWBOY

© 2018 Jill Buteyn

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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“I would help you.”

The words were out of his mouth before he’d had time to think, but once they registered, he decided the idea wasn’t so crazy. If he was going to follow through with the two of them getting along and putting the past behind them, he might as well jump with both feet.

Curiosity and concern mingled in the depths of her distractingly beautiful green eyes. Maybe even a bit of fear. “Why?”

“Why not?”

It seemed easier to answer that way than to tell her the truth. There was one thing he’d never seen his father and mother do—make amends. Forgive. Move on. Therefore that was exactly what Hunter planned to do.

And this way, when Rachel did her next disappearing act for the job she wanted and came back to visit her family, she and Hunter would be able to get along. Wish each other well.

She studied the toes of her camel boots as though they held the answer to all of the world’s problems. “It was nice of you to offer, but I can’t accept.”

Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t?

Being confident of this very thing,

that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.

—Philippians 1:6

Dear Reader,

Rachel was a broken teen in Falling for Texas, and I was so excited to write a redemption story for her. But as it goes in life, sometimes our best-laid plans get disrupted.

Between books two and three (this one), I lost a friend to cancer. Before she passed, we wrote a book together. After, I had a hard time writing fiction again. I went round and round with Rachel and Hunter’s story. Finally it all came together. But I felt a lot of pressure to get it all right. To complete it. To do it on my own instead of crashing into Jesus and trusting His timing.

I am the type, like Rachel, who wants to write my own redemption story. As if I can work hard enough or earn enough grace to cover my mistakes. Which, of course, is the opposite of the definition of grace.

Rachel struggles to show everyone she’s changed. And she has. But she forgets that she’s already loved and forgiven. That human judgments don’t count. Only God’s opinion matters. The moment Jesus gave up His life on the cross, her redemption story (and mine and yours) was completed.

I love to connect with readers. Find me at facebook.com/JillLynnAuthor or at instagram.com/JillLynnAuthor for conversations about life and God and everything in between.

My newsletter is where I send out announcements about upcoming books and sales. Sign up at Jill-Lynn.com/news.

Jill Lynn

To the God who makes all things possible—even books that feel impossible—all glory and honor to You.

T, S & L—I’m so thankful home is wherever we are together. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than with the three of you.

To my editor, Shana Asaro—Thank you for your hard work and dedication. Your wisdom and guidance is priceless to me.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Bible Verse

Dear Reader

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

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Time to make a break for it.

Rachel Maddox beelined for the back of the church and the sanctuary of the outdoors.

In the last five minutes, since the service had ended, she’d been cornered by three well-meaning women. Each had wanted to know every detail of her life since she’d left town six years ago. The first had wrinkled her nose with confusion when Rachel mentioned her future plans, instead—moving to Houston for a high school guidance counselor position she hoped to get. As though she hadn’t understood Rachel’s desire to hightail it out of Fredericksburg as quickly as possible.

The second had been hard of hearing, and she’d asked what perfume Rachel was wearing. Since the answer was none, she’d tried to change the topic, but after numerous requests, she’d finally piped up and said, “It must be my deodorant,” at a volume high enough to have several confused glances swing in her direction. Sigh.

Number three had questioned why she wasn’t married yet—as if twenty-four equaled old maid status—all while giving her a pointed look that said she knew exactly why. Rachel had been reduced to a teenager in that moment—as though her old mistakes, attitude and poor decisions were strapped to her back for the world to see.

Ouch.

The nosiness was just another reason she wanted out of this small Texas town she’d grown up in. Rachel had this strange desire not to live in a place where she’d been a mess. It was time to start somewhere new, and just as soon as she got the job in Houston, that’s exactly what she planned to do.

She dodged around two older gentlemen, the need to escape causing her throat to constrict.

Rachel had grown used to anonymity over the last few years. She attended big churches where nobody knew her name and lived in a city where people didn’t stop her at the grocery store to chat about the weather or to ask how her sweet nephews were doing. This town was suffocating her, and she’d only been home a few days.

How was she going to survive a month or two?

People parted before her, and she clicked along in her sleeveless blue pencil dress and strappy brown wedges, the taste of victory and freedom spurring her forward.

When a little girl darted out in front of her, Rachel screeched to a stop. Tiny strawberry-blond pigtails bounced on the top of the girl’s head like small antennae. Based on the fact that she roamed the sanctuary without a parent in tow, Rachel assumed she must be escaping, too. They were kindred spirits.

She only looked to be around two years old. Too small to continue her romp of freedom alone. So much for her escape plan. Rachel knelt down, gently touching the child’s arm. “Where’s your mama, sweetie?”

“Mama.” The girl’s face broke into a smile. Adorable. Not exactly helpful, but definitely cute.

“Should we go find her?”

The tot’s head bobbled. Rachel attempted to take her hand, but the little girl didn’t budge. When Rachel opened her arms, the girl came right to her. No stranger danger with this one. Rachel scooped her up and stood, a sweet orange scent reminiscent of the push-up treats she used to eat as a kid tickling her senses as she scanned the space for a harried mom. None appeared. Hmm. She couldn’t exactly drop the toddler in the lost and found.

And then, instead of a worried mom, she saw a man steaming toward her. One she knew well. Hunter McDermott. Never fun to run smack-dab into a past mistake. And to think, she’d been so close to making a getaway.

He stopped in front of her, and to her surprise, the little girl lunged into his arms. Hunter...had a daughter? Rachel hadn’t heard that he’d married. But then, when her sister-in-law, Olivia, started telling her about local news, Rachel often tuned out.

“Rach, I didn’t realize you were home.” Surprise laced his voice, joining the quirk of his eyebrows. The fact that he’d used her nickname seemed lost on him. “Sorry about that. Kinsley’s a bit of an escape artist.”

“It’s okay. I completely understand.” But, then again, he should know that. Hadn’t he been upset with her for making a break for it six years ago?

Time had barely aged him. Hunter had never lacked in the spine-tingling looks department, yet he managed to pull it off without any effort. Of course he’d wear a casual, short-sleeved plaid shirt and jeans to church along with cowboy boots. His cropped, dark blond hair looked as though he’d shoved a hand through it, glanced in the mirror and shrugged. He somehow managed to look laid-back and dangerous all at the same time. Two good words to describe the man who’d trampled all over her heart before she’d left for college. Though he would probably claim she’d been the wrecking ball.

“You home to see your family?”

“I just finished grad school and now I’m staying here while waiting to hear about a high school guidance counselor position I’m hoping—” planning “—to get in Houston.” Rachel had already filled out tons of paperwork and done one interview over Skype.

His jaw hardened, brow pinched. “Sounds like you plan to escape as fast as you can.”

She strived for polite, resisting the temptation to roll her eyes at the jab. She’d matured over the years, hadn’t she? She could handle an adult conversation with Hunter. “Is this your daughter?”

“Kinsley?” Hunter lifted the girl higher, grinning at her. The softening of his face caused a tightening in her chest. Once upon a time she’d craved that smile of his as much as oxygen. “No. She’s my niece. Autumn’s oldest. She’s pregnant with their second. I’m not married.”

The words dug like a knife and twisted. He could have added because of you to the end, just to make the torture more complete. It was true he’d asked her to marry him once. But they’d been young—way too young. And she’d wanted out. A chance to start over where she hadn’t been an immature teenager. Time to pursue her dreams. Was that so wrong?

Rachel still had hopes and aspirations that didn’t involve this town. After high school, she’d gone to Colorado for college and concentrated on her studies. Now she planned to focus on her career.

Houston was four hours away. Close enough that she could see her nephews whenever she made the drive and yet far enough that she could start fresh. Rachel wanted to be in Texas and somewhat close to her brother, his wife and their kids—they were her only immediate family, since their parents had passed away when she’d been thirteen. But she didn’t want to live in Fredericksburg. She enjoyed bigger cities. Liked everyone not knowing what she was up to and then gossiping about it.

For instance, just the fact that she was conversing with Hunter would cause a ripple that would echo across the smooth surface of this town.

“Hunter. Rachel.”

Their heads both snapped in the direction of the voice. The associate pastor, Greg Tendra, approached, sporting a grin that wasn’t mirrored on Hunter’s face or hers. He wore a green dress shirt tucked into black pants and no tie. The man was an inch or two shorter than Rachel, with raven curly hair, and the smell of spicy aftershave wafted with him.

“I’m glad to see you two have met.”

A laugh almost escaped from her throat, but she managed to stem it before it burst out. Being new to town, Greg obviously didn’t know any of the history between Hunter and Rachel. Fine by her. What had happened between them would stay in the past, as far as she was concerned. She didn’t need to confess to the pastor that they’d once had a vibrant relationship that had turned toxic. That when she did come home, she and Hunter couldn’t manage more than a few minutes—seconds, really—of stifled surface-level conversation.

But why would Greg care if she and Hunter had met? Unless...

Her stomach plummeted to her cherry-red-painted toenails. No. It couldn’t be. Dread crawled across her skin even as she tried to talk herself out of the idea.

“You’re my leaders for building the float with the youth group this summer. The brawn and the brains.” Greg’s face wreathed in a teasing smile as he glanced from Hunter to Rachel, and her world crumbled around her. She’d agreed to do one thing while home—help the youth build a float for the Independence Day parade. She’d said yes for a number of reasons. It would give her something to do while home. It would even look good on her résumé, and she needed all the help she could get to land this job. But mostly, she loved teens. All the snarky sides of them. Just like she’d been, way back when.

But she hadn’t realized the opportunity would come with Hunter attached.

She was supposed to work with him? Rachel wasn’t sure how to handle that. She only knew her plans remained the same: get the job she wanted and break out of this town. And just like the last time, she couldn’t let Hunter McDermott stand in her way.

* * *

Hunter’s ears were ringing. They felt like Kinsley had taken a pot and a pan and banged his head between them. His niece squirmed in his arms, and he realized that during Greg’s revelation, he’d been squeezing her pretty tight. When he spotted his sister, Autumn, talking to someone about ten feet away, Hunter placed Kinsley on the ground. A soft pat on her diapered bum had her scooting off toward her mom. When he was satisfied she’d been captured by his sister, Hunter turned his attention back to the strange turn of events happening in front of him.

By the look of pure shock on Rachel’s face, Hunter imagined Greg hadn’t informed her of who the other leader would be, either. He must have assumed they didn’t know each other. He couldn’t be more wrong on that account.

Would Rachel run now? She was certainly good at it.

Hunter winced. When had he turned so bitter? He was morphing into his father, and he didn’t like it.

He could be a gentleman and back out of helping. Rachel was the teen whisperer, not him. He was pretty much the brawn, like Greg had joked. Hunter had been asked to help with the float because he had a truck and a flatbed trailer. Two things that were needed. He’d agreed to help because he loved the youth group. He’d spent plenty of time there as a kid. It had become a safe place for him after his mom left, and he wanted to give back to that. He still did, but how could this ever work?

“We’re thankful to have the two of you helping. I honestly wasn’t sure what we were going to do. But now that we have you both, crisis averted.” Greg’s sigh of relief told Hunter even more than his words. Hunter only knew Greg a little, but the man had been thrown into numerous roles at the church, even having to cover for the youth pastor who’d left unexpectedly.

So much for Hunter’s idea of quietly disappearing. He wouldn’t leave the church or the kids abandoned like that. Building the float had been the highlight of a few of his summers, too. It was tradition, and he remembered how much he’d looked forward to it.

Hunter sought Rachel’s eyes, wishing he could read her like he used to be able to. Back when they’d been inseparable. When she hadn’t looked at him as if her dog had just died and he was to blame. What was she thinking? “Didn’t you say you were here waiting on a job?” How would she have time for something like this? How long would she actually be home?

“I am.” She toyed with a gold R pendant that hung on a slim chain around her neck, her fingers a stark white. “The school is doing more interviews and then waiting for a decision from the board. It might take a month or two.”

“We’ll take you as long as we can have you,” Greg chimed in.

That made one of them. Been there. Done that.

Greg’s hand momentarily rested on Rachel’s arm after his comment, and Hunter fought annoyance at the man and at himself for caring. What Rachel did or didn’t do wasn’t any of his business and hadn’t been for a long time. But Greg was young—maybe just a few years older than Hunter—and not blind. Rachel was beautiful. Tall, with straight, light blond hair that landed inches past her shoulders and mesmerizing green eyes. He’d always been partial to the subtle smattering of freckles on her face that he knew she despised.

Her beauty hadn’t been the reason Hunter had once wanted to hold on to her, but it had been a perk to look at her pretty face every day and see her smiling at him as though he made the stars shine at night. Only he hadn’t been enough to keep her here.

A quick glance at the ring finger on her left hand told him she wasn’t engaged or married. He assumed he would have heard if she was. Lucy Redmond—Olivia’s sister—used to feed him tidbits of information about Rachel. But even Lucy’s optimism couldn’t overpower the messy past between Hunter and Rachel or the fact that they wanted completely opposite things.

Rachel had always had one foot out the door of this town, and his life was here. Hunter should have known to leave well enough alone when they were younger and not pursue a relationship with her, but she’d been hard to resist.

Greg had continued talking, and Hunter forced himself to concentrate on the conversation. “The search for a youth pastor probably won’t wrap up until the end of July. But with you two handling the float, we only have the lock-in to cover, which I’m heading up, and then we’ll hopefully have a new youth pastor starting in August or September.”

The man looked pleased as punch. Hunter didn’t know what to feel. For so many years, he and Rachel had avoided each other. They’d never dealt with what had happened between them. It had just been easier to sweep their past under the rug. He blamed her for so much, and he was just as sure she held him responsible for what went wrong.

And now he sounded like his father—stuck. Unable to move on.

If there was one thing Hunter wanted more than a quiet, content life of ranching, it was to not turn into his dad. He would do just about anything to avoid following in his old man’s footsteps.

The three of them talked for another minute about when the float building was scheduled to start—this Wednesday. And what time—seven o’clock. Then Greg split off to catch up with someone else.

“I—” Rachel looked as though she’d witnessed a terrible car accident, a bit of green dusting her face. “I should go find my nephews and Cash and Liv. They’re probably waiting for me.”

She didn’t leave him any time to respond before she headed for the front doors of the church. Should he follow her? Make sure she was okay?

Nah. She wouldn’t welcome his intrusion.

Hunter watched her burst out into the sunlight, angst churning in his gut. The memories with Rachel flooded back, fast and furious. Before their relationship had gone so wrong, it had been good.

But what had stood between them six years ago still stretched between them now. That and a lot of hurt.

Hunter refused to turn into his father and grow resentful, holding on to the past. Which, if Rachel and Hunter were going to be working together with the youth, meant one thing. The two of them were just going to have to learn to be friends again.

Whether she wanted to be or not.

Chapter Two

Ouch. Rachel jolted awake when her elbow met the wooden side of her nephew’s fire truck bedframe. She rubbed the spot and stared up at the ceiling.

The house Rachel had grown up in—where her brother, his wife and their two boys now lived—only had three bedrooms upstairs and a small office downstairs. Her four-year-old nephew, Grayson, occupied one bedroom, and Ryder, who was just a year old, had a slightly smaller one. Cash and Olivia were in the master. There was no guest room, which meant that, with her added into the mix, Gray was sleeping on Ryder’s floor so she could have his room. He currently considered the situation “very cool” and liked “camping” every night, but that wouldn’t last forever. Certainly not for the month or two she’d be home. And while she didn’t mind sleeping in a twin bed the shape of a fire truck, she was willing to live somewhere else and give Cash, Olivia and the boys their own space back. Except that, with her limited amount of time in town plus the fact that she should be saving money, she wasn’t sure how to solve the space dilemma.

“Auntie Rach, watch out, the stampede is coming!” Grayson tore into the bedroom and jumped onto the bed with her, causing air to rush from her lungs.

“Grayson Warren Maddox, I told you not to wake her.” Olivia paused in the doorway to Rachel’s temporary room. She blew a wayward hair from her forehead, looking a little frazzled for eight o’clock in the morning.