“So how about it?
Will you be my hero?”
Ross’s resolve almost crumbled as he found himself wanting to be her hero in more ways than one. But their plans were incompatible. He shook his head, clearing it. “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t flinch, budge or blink. “You know, I’m not going to leave you alone. You’ll have no peace until you give in and do the show.”
He didn’t doubt her for one minute. She’d already shown she didn’t give up easily. “I really hate to tell you this, but it won’t do any good.” He wasn’t going to tell her how close she was getting. But almost as though she could see it in his eyes, she smiled and stepped out of his way.
“We’ll see about that, cowboy. I haven’t given up on Hollywood and I’m not giving up on you. You can count on that.”
DEBRA CLOPTON
was a 2004 Golden Heart finalist in the inspirational category, a 2006 Inspirational Readers Choice Award winner, a 2007 Golden Quill award winner and a finalist for the 2007 American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year Award. She praises the Lord each time someone votes for one of her books, and takes it as an affirmation that she is exactly where God wants her to be.
Debra is a hopeless romantic and loves to create stories with lively heroines and the strong heroes who fall in love with them. But most importantly she loves showing her characters living their faith, seeking God’s will in their lives one day at a time. Her goal is to give her readers an entertaining story that will make them smile, hopefully laugh and always feel God’s goodness as they read her books. She has found the perfect home for her stories writing for Love Inspired and still has to pinch herself just to see if she really is awake and living her dream.
When she isn’t writing she enjoys taking road trips, reading and spending time with her two sons, Chase and Kris. She loves hearing from readers and can be reached through her Web site www.debraclopton.com, or P.O. Box 1125, Madisonville, TX 77864.
The Cowboy Takes a Bride
Debra Clopton
Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain
of what we do not see.
—Hebrews 11:1
To my sister Cindy Drabek and my brother Ricky
Patrick. I love you and am blessed to have you both in my life. God bless you and your families!
Contents
Acknowledgments
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
Epilogue
Questions for Discussion
Acknowledgments
I’d especially like to acknowledge the contributions of the following people:
Senior editor Krista Stroever, because her advice never fails to help take my books to the next level.
A special thank-you to editorial assistant Elizabeth Mazer. Her line edits were wonderful and this book is so much better because of them!
Thanks to executive editor Joan Golan for what she does for Steeple Hill, overall. What a blessing she is to so many and especially to me.
And a big thank-you to editor Louise Rozett for her work on this project. Louise and Elizabeth both made me feel like I was in great hands while my editor was out of the office.
Chapter One
Ross Denton yanked his gloves off and glared at the tractor. Between beavers trying to turn good grazing pasture into a lake, and a new tractor that was out to win the lemon of the year award, his usually cheerful mood had taken a swift dive south. Striding to his truck, he headed toward town, determined to accomplish something productive with his day.
Once he hit the blacktop, the two short miles into Mule Hollow flew by, and within minutes he’d parked at the end of Main Street and was stalking toward Pete’s Feed and Seed. If Pete could order in what Ross needed for his tractor, and get it overnighted, then maybe tomorrow would be a better day.
Instantly his attention was snagged down the sidewalk by a blonde in a black ruffled shirt, zebra-print pants and a pair of strappy sandals with heels as tall as fence posts! She was wrestling with a suitcase stuck in an ancient station wagon—not exactly a customary sight in a small Texas town such as Mule Hollow.
With his hand on the feed-store door, Ross paused and watched the woman fighting with the case. The ugly vehicle looked like the one his mother had driven when he was about ten. Faded green, with signature wood panels running along the sides, it had seen better days. But he wasn’t looking at the car as much as the woman. She had her back to him, and as he watched she stuck one ridiculously high heel against the fender, clasped the handle of the suitcase and pulled.
“Whoa,” Ross yelled, charging toward her when the bag popped free and she stumbled back. Too far away to save her from landing on the plank sidewalk, he cringed when she hit the rough wood with a thud. Ouch. That had to hurt.
The fact that the suitcase had landed on top of her, then rolled off, couldn’t have felt good, either. She seemed to be crying when he got there. Hunched over, shoulders shaking, she sobbed into her hands.
He crouched beside her. “Ma’am, where does it hurt?” He placed his palm on her shoulder, not knowing how to console her, but knowing he had to try.
She took a shuddering breath and looked up at him with bright eyes the color of green olives and gold swirled together. He’d never seen hazel eyes with quite that intensity—or so full of laughter!
She was laughing. The sound finally registered as she gazed at him, grinning widely. She had the cutest dimples.
“Too funny.” She waved her hand in front of her face and bit her lips, but giggles came out anyway.
“You’re not hurt?” he asked, embarrassed that he was grinning with her. She could be hurting despite her laughter. People reacted strangely to pain sometimes.
She nodded. “I’m fine.” Her features relaxed a bit as she took a slow breath. Her dimples didn’t completely disappear, leaving her with a mischievous look. He wondered if that was a true reflection of what lay beneath that lively persona.
“Sugar, what in the world happened?”
Ross looked up to find Haley Wells, Mule Hollow’s only real-estate agent, standing in the doorway of her office. “She took a tumble and now she can’t seem to stop chuckling,” he said.
“That’s Sugar. When she gets tickled, she can’t stop laughing sometimes,” Haley declared. A phone inside the