Her Forever Cowboy
Determined to start over, Harmony Cross returns to Dawson, Oklahoma. She needs time and space—not complications. Especially not in the form of the charming Dylan Cooper. But the handsome cowboy is not the man Harmony remembers. Now he’s a single dad with two sweet and vulnerable children to take care of. Harmony never thought she’d see the day—not only is Dylan more kindhearted than she ever imagined, but she’s falling for the last man she ever thought she’d love. Can this unlikely hero give her a perfect forever?
Cooper Creek: Home is where the heart is for this Oklahoma family
“Do all men fall at your feet, Harmony Cross?”
“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you haven’t changed.”
He smiled a little, and she saw the lurking sadness again.
“Oh, I think we’ve both changed.” He swung the back of the trailer open. “And I’m sorry for baiting you that way. Old habits and all.”
“You’re right. Maybe we should call a truce?”
A truce would mean, what? Being friends? The idea felt a little bit dangerous.
“I’m not sure exactly why we need a truce,” Dylan said as he stepped up into the trailer and reached for the horse’s tail. “Come on, Beau, head on out of there.”
Dylan closed the back of the trailer and then the gate. “You understand you can’t ride him.”
“You understand that I’m very aware of what I can and can’t do.”
“Why are you so defensive?” he countered.
“Because I’m here to get away from people who feel I need to be told at every turn what I can and can’t do.”
“So what you’re saying is, you’ve had all of the advice you can handle for a lifetime?” He smiled. “I guess we have more in common than you’d like to admit.”
BRENDA MINTON
started creating stories to entertain herself during hour-long rides on the school bus. In high school she wrote romance novels to entertain her friends. The dream grew and so did her aspirations to become an author. She started with notebooks, handwritten manuscripts and characters who refused to go away until their stories were told. Eventually she put away the pen and paper and got down to business with the computer. The journey took a few years, with some encouragement and rejection along the way—as well as a lot of stubbornness on her part. In 2006 her dream to write for Love Inspired Books came true. Brenda lives in the rural Ozarks with her husband, three kids and an abundance of cats and dogs. She enjoys a chaotic life that she wouldn’t trade for anything—except, on occasion, a beach house in Texas. You can stop by and visit at her website, www.brendaminton.net.
Single Dad Cowboy
Brenda Minton
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you; and when you pass through
the rivers, they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.
—Isaiah 43:2
To Hannah.
And to the readers of Cooper Creek, for the emails, the encouragement and prayers along the way.
I hope you enjoy Dylan’s story.
A big “thank you” to my editor Melissa Endlich
for her wisdom and patience.
Contents
Chapter One
The farmer stood his ground, his jeans loose, his button-down shirt frayed, with one button missing. Harmony Cross didn’t back down, though. She couldn’t back down. She also couldn’t explain why the horse in his corral mattered so much to her. But the skinny Appaloosa, black with a smattering of white on its rump, mattered. Possibly more than anything had ever mattered in her whole life.
She needed this horse. She needed something to pour her heart into, something that would love her in return and maybe, just maybe, help her find a way back to the person she used to be.
“I don’t know why you think I’m not taking care of that animal.” The old farmer, with a gray grizzled beard and sunken, hazy brown eyes, scratched his chin, as if he really didn’t get it. “I just rode him in the rodeo last night.”
“No, you didn’t,” Harmony countered, nearly smiling, yet not. “I’ll give you double what the animal is worth.”
“I’m not selling that horse. He’s a national champion.”
Harmony glanced at the skin-and-bones animal. “No, he isn’t. I’ve been driving by here for a week, and every day that horse is reaching across the fence trying to get one blade of grass. He’s starving.”
He pointed a finger at her that trembled. “I don’t care if you are Gibson Cross’s kid. You aren’t going to talk to me that way, missy.”
So, he knew who she was. Even though she’d tried to keep a low profile since she showed up in Dawson, Oklahoma, a week ago there would always be talk. There would always be people wanting to help. There