Snowbound with the Cowboy Read online

  They have one more chance to get it right...

  She’s here to stay. He plans to leave.

  Can a snowstorm bring them back together?

  Returning home to open a veterinary clinic, the last person Sara Branson expects to find in town is Tate Langford—the man she once loved. But the injured rodeo star has no intention of staying, and their families don’t get along. So when a snowstorm strands Sara and Tate together, why can’t she stop wishing their reunion could turn permanent?

  Rocky Mountain Ranch

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author Roxanne Rustand

  “I feel really bad, making such work for you.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “But—”

  Tate gave a firm shake of his head. “Tomorrow afternoon I’ll be over here to help with the cleanup. Okay?”

  “No. You have a lot to do as it is. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Neighbors help each other around here, Sara. And believe me, if you don’t let me pitch in, I will never hear the end of it from my grandma.”

  Sara stared at the blackened garage for a long moment, her eyes weary and a little dazed.

  “You’re a good man, Tate. I’d forgotten just how kind you are.”

  Then she hurried to her truck without a backward glance.

  He stared after her, the world shifting beneath his feet.

  Since she’d come back to town, nothing had been said. No parameters had been discussed. But he’d understood their tacit agreement—whatever they’d had between them was in the past, and they were practically strangers now.

  So why did everything suddenly seem to mean so much more?

  A USA TODAY bestselling and award-winning author of over thirty-five novels, Roxanne Rustand lives in the country with her husband and a menagerie of pets, including three horses, rescue dogs and cats. She has a master’s in nutrition and is a clinical dietitian. RT Book Reviews nominated her for a Career Achievement Award, two of her books won their annual Reviewers’ Choice Award and two others were nominees.

  Books by Roxanne Rustand

  Love Inspired

  Rocky Mountain Ranch

  Montana Mistletoe

  High Country Homecoming

  Snowbound with the Cowboy

  Aspen Creek Crossroads

  Winter Reunion

  Second Chance Dad

  The Single Dad’s Redemption

  An Aspen Creek Christmas

  Falling for the Rancher

  Love Inspired Suspense

  Big Sky Secrets

  Fatal Burn

  End Game

  Murder at Granite Falls

  Duty to Protect

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  SNOWBOUND

  WITH THE COWBOY

  Roxanne Rustand

  And all things, whatsoever ye shall ask

  in prayer, believing, ye shall receive.

  —Matthew 21:22

  With love to Larry, Andy, Brian and Emily. And with love always and forever to my dear mother, Arline, who supported me every step of the way on my writing journey.

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from A Rancher to Trust by Laurel Blount

  Chapter One

  “Got it. A two-year-old gelding, lacerations to the pastern and fetlock.” Sara Branson stared down at the clipboard braced against the steering wheel of her vet truck and tried to rein in her roiling emotions. “But tell me again. This is where?”

  “It’s part of the Langford Ranch—but go three miles past the main gate, then turn west.” The male voice seemed vaguely familiar. “This section of the ranch used to be the old Branson place. The house and barns are—”

  “Two miles from the highway, at the end of a long, curving lane.” Where a backdrop of pine-blanketed foothills climbed up to the base of the Montana Rockies, and the sun dropped behind those rugged, snow-covered peaks every night.

  She knew the property very well.

  But to her, it wasn’t part of the Langford Ranch and never would be. It had been her aunt and uncle’s ranch until eight years ago, when the bank abruptly foreclosed and Gus Langford snapped it up under shady circumstances.

  “Uh...right.” The male voice hesitated. “So you’ve been out here before and know where to go?”

  That was the understatement of the year, and the whole sad situation still made her heart ache. “I’m just leaving a ranch north of Pine Bend. I’ll be there in—” she consulted the GPS on the dashboard of her truck “—roughly thirty-five minutes. Are you the foreman?”

  “In a matter of speaking.” His short laugh wasn’t very convincing. “Temporarily, anyhow.”

  He ended the call before she could ask his name.

  By the time she arrived and pulled to a stop in front of the horse barn, she’d lectured herself back into the calm, professional persona of the good veterinarian she was.

  This was simply another vet call. No personal issues. No anger over the past. Nothing could change what had happened, after all. And the man who’d called her was just some employee who’d had nothing to do with Gus Langford’s actions, so he certainly didn’t deserve any snarky comments from her.

  But she still wished she could give the late Gus Langford a piece of her mind.

  She surveyed the two-story log house at the far side of the parking area in front of the barns, where she’d stayed for long stretches during the school year, whenever her parents had temporarily split up over one ruckus or another, plus every summer until she graduated from high school. Aunt Millie and Uncle Warren had been like a second set of parents in a stable, warm and loving home.

  But even from here she could see the wraparound porch was sagging and the roof needed repair, and as she pivoted to look at the barns, they seemed to be in even worse shape.

  Langford, rest his soul, had been one of the richest ranchers in the county. If he’d been so determined to steal this place from her aunt and uncle, why hadn’t he bothered with maintenance afterward?

  He’d probably cared only about gaining the additional grazing land for his vast herds of cattle. And nothing about the love and dreams and backbreaking work that had gone into making this place a home, which made the situation seem even worse. She’d been a classmate to Tate Langford, one of Gus’s sons, and had seen his two older brothers around town while growing up. They’d all been decent kids, far as she knew, but over the years they’d probably grown up to be just like their father.

  Grabbing her satchel from the seat next to her, she rounded the back of her truck and swiftly added extra supplies from the various doors in the vet box. Sutures. Surgical equipment. IV sedative. Antibiotics. Sterile saline for flushing the wounds. Bandaging materials.

  No one had come out of the house, the machine shed or the two barns to greet her when she arrived, so she headed straight for th
e horse barn. The tractor-wide double doors were closed against the mid-February bite in the air, so she opened the smaller walk door and stepped inside to the sound of an old country song blaring on the radio.

  A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she took in the long cement aisle flanked with a dozen box stalls on each side. Pine paneling rose halfway up each stall front and its sliding door, with vertical metal pipes forming the barrier along the top half of the stalls for ventilation and visibility.

  Partway down, a young sorrel stood cross-tied in the middle of the aisle with a broad-shouldered man in jeans and black shirt hunkered down at its side. He was expertly wrapping one of its front legs.

  “Hello, there,” she called out. “I’m Dr. Branson. Someone called, and—”

  The man finished the last wrap of the bandage around the leg, stood abruptly and turned to face her, his expression stunned. “Sara?”

  “Tate?” Her heart flip-flopped in her chest. She felt as stunned as he looked, and it took a moment to find her voice with so many painful high school memories crashing through her thoughts.

  Guilt.

  Remorse.

  Heartache.

  In high school, the first time he’d angled a heart-stopping grin in her direction she’d felt herself falling, falling into the depths of his silver-blue gaze, too mesmerized to even speak, even though she’d known he was way too wild and irresponsible—a magnet for the popular, flirty girls. Not a guy who’d want a plain, ordinary nerd like her.

  But nothing had ever been predictable where Tate Langford was concerned.

  “W-what are you doing here?”

  He blinked. “That was you on the phone?”

  “Calls roll over to my cell phone if the clinic receptionist is on another line.” She tipped her head slightly. “Guess I forgot to introduce myself.”

  “As did I.” He shook his head in disbelief. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Fourteen years.” She felt a flare of warmth in her cheeks, realizing it sounded as if she had been actually paying close attention to that passage of time all these years, like some lovesick puppy. “I mean—since high school graduation.”

  “And now you’re the vet in town.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Quite an improvement over the crotchety old buzzard who owned the clinic years ago. Knowing what he was like, I’m sure he drove a hard bargain.”

  “I don’t know. The vet who bought the practice from him left to join her fiancé’s practice in Idaho. I signed the papers a few weeks ago.”

  “I thought your parents wanted you to go to med school, like they did.”

  “Adamantly. But I had a change of heart.” Coupled with a surge of rebellion leading to an estrangement that still hadn’t fully healed.

  Life hadn’t been any easier for Tate, though, given his father’s reputation as a controlling, volatile man who never backed down. In high school, Tate had once told her that he hated the ranch and couldn’t wait to leave. And once he did, he was never, ever coming back.

  She cocked her head and studied him. “I remember your dad wanted every one of his sons to stay on the ranch. But by the time I left for college I heard all of you had left. For good.”

  “Yeah, my dad’s plans didn’t work out so well, either. All of us dreamed of escaping the ranch, and we did.” A corner of Tate’s mouth lifted in a wry smile. “Devlin went into the Marines, Jess left to rodeo and then I followed suit. When we disrupted Dad’s plans for building his ranching dynasty, he was so riled that he told us to never come back. He was not a forgiving man.”

  She furrowed her brow, thinking. “I’ve only been back a few weeks, but I think I might have seen Jess around town.”

  “Probably. When Dad got Parkinson’s he wasn’t happy about swallowing his pride and asking Jess to come back. Ironic, because Jess had been saving his rodeo earnings for vet school, and gave up his own dreams to take over the ranch. Dad died a year later, and I doubt he ever thanked Jess for coming home.”

  “What about Devlin?”

  “He was severely injured in a bomb blast, and got a medical discharge from the Marines. He moved back last spring. Now he’s an active partner in the ranch.”

  “So you and your brothers ended up ranching after all.”

  Tate rested a hand on the gelding’s sleek neck. “Not me. I came back a few days ago, and I’ll be home for just a few months. Too many bad memories here to suit me.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  In grade school, he’d lost a younger sister in a tragic accident, and less than a year later his mother died. The whole town knew how harsh Gus had been with his sons after that. For all of their land and wealth, no one would’ve wanted to be in their shoes.

  Which made her own behavior toward Tate in high school seem all the worse. Maybe he didn’t remember anything about it, after all these years, but seeing him again made that emotional baggage weigh heavily on her heart.

  She swallowed hard and shook off her thoughts as she approached the two-year-old gelding, ran a comforting hand down his neck and shoulder and carefully unwrapped the leg. “You’ve done a good job of keeping this leg clean. He’s up to date on all of his vaccinations, right? Including tetanus?”

  Tate nodded. “I checked his records. All good.”

  “What happened?”

  “Barbwire,” he said with disgust. “If I was going to stay here longer, I’d have time to replace all of it with something safer—at least around the horse pastures. Some cattle went through the fence last night. At least a hundred head of Angus were in the horse pasture this morning, and by then, this colt had gotten tangled up in the downed wire.”

  “The cattle probably didn’t even see the fence during that heavy snowfall. Did you get them all rounded up?”

  “Yep. At least they were contained in an adjoining pasture. My brothers came over to help drive them back.”

  She administered an intravenous sedative, and waited until the gelding’s head sleepily lowered. After injecting some anesthetic, she examined the edges of the lacerations, flushed them with sterile saline and probed the depths of the wounds.

  She retrieved suture materials from her satchel and got to work. “I’m only suturing the cannon bone area,” she said without looking away from the leg. “Fortunately, the wounds on the pastern are minor. In that area, sutures tend to pull out when the joint flexes. I’d have to do something more involved.”

  When she finished, she wrapped the leg in gauze, then fluffy white sheet cotton, followed by stretchy Vetrap to thoroughly stabilize the dressing.

  After she’d administered an injection of IM antibiotics, she stowed her gear back into the satchel and pulled off her vinyl gloves. “Stall rest only. I need to see this horse in three or four days, and then a week or two after that. Will someone be around, say, on Thursday morning around eleven?”

  “Sure. Just give me a call if anything changes.” He slowly led the injured gelding into a stall and unbuckled his halter, then stepped out and slid the door shut.

  A wave of memories washed over her as she breathed in the familiar scents of sawdust bedding and good mixed alfalfa and grass hay. “I was...surprised to be called out here. Has anyone lived here since my aunt and uncle lost the place?” She’d tried to still the edge in her voice but apparently hadn’t succeeded, because she saw a flash of sympathy in Tate’s eyes.

  “I’d left for college and then the rodeo circuit before that, but by the looks of the house, I don’t think anyone has lived here in years. So what happened to your aunt and uncle?”

  “Years of drought, low livestock prices. Mounting medical bills for Millie’s cancer. They took out loans against the ranch to try to hang on, but they ended up sinking in debt they couldn’t repay.” She dredged up a weak smile. “Yet they still kept sending me a little money every month to help with my rent. I was away at college and they never
said a word about how bad things were. They didn’t want me to worry. When I learned the truth it just about broke my heart.”

  “Sounds like there was no hope of recovering.”

  “Warren was sure they could’ve rallied if only they’d had just a few more months. But the bank abruptly called in their loans and wouldn’t even talk about an extension. And your dad—” She bit back the sharp words on her lips.

  She would never believe there hadn’t been something fishy going on between the bank president and Gus Langford to precipitate that sudden foreclosure and sale. But there was no going back. Gus was dead and the whole situation was past history.

  And none of it was Tate’s fault.

  “Some folks said Dad was like a vulture. He never missed a chance to grab what he wanted.” A faint, sad smile touched a corner of Tate’s mouth. “Where are your aunt and uncle now?”

  “After the foreclosure they had just enough equity to pay off their legal fees, settle their debts, and scrape together the money for a small, remote cabin. They live in town now, though.”

  She gave Tate a cool nod of farewell, but he followed her out to her truck anyway and opened the door for her, then stepped back as she lifted the satchel onto the front seat and climbed behind the steering wheel.

  He closed the door for her. “Thanks, Sara. I appreciate you coming by so quickly.”

  “No problem.” She glanced over at him through the open window and their eyes locked for a moment too long before she jerked her gaze away and started the engine.

  He’d changed a lot since she’d last seen him at high school graduation. He was much taller, his shoulders had broadened. His voice was deeper.

  He still had those trademark Langford eyes, though. The dark, sweeping eyebrows and stunning silver-blue eyes with long dark lashes. With that black hair and an easy, lopsided grin that deepened the slash of a dimple in his left cheek, he could probably charm any woman with a pulse from nine to ninety.

  Every one of the brothers was perfect material for the cover of GQ magazine, though their saving grace was that none of them had ever seemed to realize it.