This Cowboy of Mine--Includes a Bonus Novella Page 25

  She let out a little gasp of surprise. “The state flower.”

  “To celebrate the fact that you’re back in Wyoming to stay.”

  “Where did you find any in bloom in this weather?”

  “Julie Franklyn’s friend owns a flower shop. She forced the blooms in a hothouse.”

  “I love them.”

  “And I love you, Sunshine.” He didn’t need Ham’s reminder to say it like he meant it. It was the absolute truth.

  He gathered her close and kissed her until they were both breathless.

  As they came up for air, he caught her hand and started toward the door. “Come on. The preacher’s waiting, and I’m in a hurry. Once this party’s over, we can head on up to the hills where I can have you all to myself forever and ever.”

  Forever and ever.

  The words sang in her heart as she descended the stairs beside her sexy cowboy. She’d come so far. All the way across the country and back to her roots, to find her home with this wonderful man and his rowdy, fun-loving family.

  In Casey’s arms she’d found all the joy and love she’d ever dreamed of.

  What an amazing adventure they’d had so far.

  And she was sure that this was just the beginning of the adventure of a lifetime.

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  Billy’s Sourdough Rolls

  Ingredients

  ½ cup sourdough starter

  1 cup lukewarm water

  2½ cups all-purpose flour

  1½ teaspoons salt

  2 tablespoons sugar

  6 tablespoons unsalted butter—room temperature

  ¼ cup nonfat dry milk

  ¼ cup potato flour

  1½ teaspoons instant yeast

  Directions

  Combine all the ingredients, mix, and knead, adding more flour or water if necessary to make a soft, smooth dough.

  Place the dough into a lightly greased bowl, cover, and allow to rise at room temperature until it’s nearly doubled in bulk (approximately 1 to 1½ hours)

  Lightly grease two 8-inch round cake pans.

  Transfer the dough to a lightly greased work surface, gently deflate, and divide into 16 pieces.

  Shape each piece of dough into a ball. Place 8 balls in each round pan, and space evenly so they aren’t touching.

  Cover the pans and allow the rolls to rise until they touch and are puffy (approximately 1 to 1½ hours).

  Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

  Bake for 24 to 26 minutes, until they are a light golden brown on top. (Thermometer should read 190 degrees.)

  Remove the rolls from the oven and after a couple of minutes transfer them to a rack to cool before serving.

  Don’t miss Jonah’s story in the next Wranglers of Wyoming story, Meant to Be My Cowboy.

  Coming in Summer 2021

  About the Author

  New York Times bestselling author R.C. Ryan has written more than a hundred novels, both contemporary and historical. Quite an accomplishment for someone who, after her fifth child started school, gave herself the gift of an hour a day to follow her dream to become a writer.

  In a career spanning more than thirty years, Ms. Ryan has given dozens of radio, television, and print interviews across the country and Canada, and has been quoted in such diverse publications as the Wall Street Journal and Cosmopolitan. She has also appeared on CNN News and Good Morning America.

  You can learn more about R.C. Ryan—and her alter ego, Ruth Ryan Langan—at:

  RyanLangan.com

  Twitter @RuthRyanLangan

  Facebook.com

  Also by R.C. Ryan

  Wranglers of Wyoming

  My Kind of Cowboy

  This Cowboy of Mine

  Montana Strong

  Cowboy on My Mind

  The Cowboy Next Door

  Born to Be a Cowboy

  The Malloys of Montana

  Matt

  Luke

  A Cowboy’s Christmas Eve (available as an e-novella)

  Reed

  Copper Creek Cowboys

  The Maverick of Copper Creek

  The Rebel of Copper Creek

  The Legacy of Copper Creek

  Wyoming Sky

  Quinn

  Josh

  Jake

  The McCords

  Montana Legacy

  Montana Destiny

  Montana Glory

  RAVES FOR R.C. RYAN’S NOVELS

  MY KIND OF COWBOY

  “Ryan’s gorgeous descriptions of ranch country and the Grand Tetons add escapist pleasure to this family-centric romance…Readers are sure to be swept away.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  BORN TO BE A COWBOY

  “Readers who prefer their Westerns with a dash of suspense will find this latest from Ryan an ideal choice. The action and danger ramp up from the beginning and never let down.”

  —Library Journal

  “Smooth like good whiskey.”

  —Keeper Bookshelf

  THE COWBOY NEXT DOOR

  “Satisfying…This sweetly domestic story should win Ryan many new fans.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “The Cowboy Next Door is a work of art.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  COWBOY ON MY MIND

  “A strong, protective hero and an independent heroine fight for their future in this modern rough-and-tumble Western.”

  —Library Journal

  “This talented writer…invites you to join a little journey that has you biting at the bit for more.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  REED

  “4 stars! Ryan’s latest book in her Malloys of Montana series contains a heartwarming plot filled with down-to-earth cowboys and warm, memorable characters. Reed and Ally are engaging and endearing, and their sweet, fiery chemistry heats up the pages, which will leave readers’ hearts melting…A delightful read.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  LUKE

  “Ryan creates vivid characters against the lovingly rendered backdrop of sweeping Montana ranchlands. The passion between Ryan’s protagonists, which they keep discreet, is tender and heartwarming. The plot is drawn in broad strokes, but Ryan expertly brings it to a satisfying conclusion.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  MATT

  “Ryan has created a gripping love story fraught with danger and lust, pain and sweet, sweet triumph.”

  —Library Journal, starred review

  For a bonus story from another author that you’ll love, please turn the page to read Wildflower Ranch by Carolyn Brown

  Shiloh never knew what it was like to have sisters. But suddenly the father she never knew leaves his ranch to Shiloh and her two half siblings. The only catch: to fully inherit, they must live together on the ranch for a full year. Shiloh couldn’t be more different from Abby Joy, a former soldier, or Bonnie, a true wild child. But the three soon find they have more in common than they could’ve imagined. When a neighboring rancher catches Shiloh’s eye, she’ll have to decide exactly how much she’s willing to sacrifice for her shot at the ranch.

  Chapter One

  Spring was Waylon’s favorite season, when the wildflowers painted the Palo Duro Canyon with their brilliant colors. That evening, the last rays of sun lit up the red Indian paintbrush, almost the same color as the dress Shiloh was wearing. The centers of the black-eyed Susans reminded him of her dark hair, and the blue bonnets scattered here and there were the color of her eyes.

  “Wildflower Ranch,” he whispered and liked the way it rolled off his tongue. He’d been looking for a brand for his new ranch ever since he bought it. “I like it. Wildflower Ranch,” he said again with a nod, and just like that, he’d named his place.

  Since most of his friends were married, Waylon had been to lots of weddings. Like always, he found a corner where he could
watch the people without having to mingle with them. He wasn’t really shy or backward, but though he didn’t like crowds he did like watching people. And he liked to dance some leather off his boots at the Sugar Shack, the local watering hole, on Saturday nights.

  Shiloh breezed in and out of the house, appearing under the porch light to talk to someone for a few minutes, and then disappearing for a little while, only to return again. She looked different from the way she did at Ezra’s funeral not quite three months ago. That day Waylon had stood off to the side as the sisters arrived one by one. Abby Joy was the last one to get there, and she looked like she had just left a military exercise in her camouflage. Shiloh might have come from a rodeo in her western getup, and Bonnie could have been a biker’s woman in black leather and sporting a nose ring and tattoo. At that time he had wondered if Ezra hadn’t been right when he sent all of them away right after they were born.

  But ever since that morning, he hadn’t been able to get Shiloh out of his mind.

  Now there were only two sisters in the running to inherit the Malloy Ranch—Shiloh and Bonnie. When the sisters first came to the canyon, Waylon would have sworn that Shiloh would be the first to leave. Bonnie would follow her within a week, and Abby Joy would be there until they buried her beside old Ezra in the Malloy family cemetery right there on the ranch.

  He’d sure been wrong, because that very evening Abby Joy had married his good friend Cooper and moved off Malloy ranch and over to his place. It wasn’t the first time Waylon had been wrong, and it most likely wouldn’t be the last time, either. He watched the two remaining Malloy sisters out of the corner of his eye. Shiloh was the taller of the two and had long dark brown hair.

  In her cowboy boots and tight jeans at her father’s funeral, she had looked like she was the queen of Texas. Maybe that confidence and sass was what had drawn him to her from the beginning. Not that he’d act on the attraction, not when there was so much at stake for her. Ezra had left a will behind, saying that the three sisters had to live on the Malloy Ranch together for a year. If one of them left, then they received an inheritance, but they could never have the ranch. If none of them left, then they inherited the place jointly. If they all moved off Ezra’s massive spread, then Rusty, his foreman, inherited it.

  Waylon had always thought that deep down Ezra wanted Rusty to have the place anyway. He’d just brought the sisters together to satisfy his own conscience for sending them away at birth because they weren’t sons.

  Waylon was a patient man. He didn’t mind sitting back in the shadows of the wide porch and waiting for another look at Shiloh in that dress that hugged her curves. When she came back again, he sat up a little straighter so he could get a better view of her. The full moon lit her eyes up that evening like beautiful sapphires. His pulse jacked up a few notches and his heart threw in an extra fast beat. He could only imagine what kissing her or holding her in his arms would feel like—but he sure liked the picture in his head when he did.

  The reception had started in the house and then poured out onto the porch and yard. That’s where Shiloh was headed right then. She met up with Bonnie, and the two of them talked with their hands, gesturing toward the house and then back at the piano under a big scrub oak.

  Maybe they were trying to figure out how to get the piano back inside. Waylon would be glad to help them with that, just to be near Shiloh for a little while. The chairs that had been arranged in two rows for the wedding were now scattered here and there, and Shiloh picked up one with each hand and carried them from the yard to the porch.

  “Need some help?” Waylon asked when she was close enough that the porch light lit up her beautiful eyes. Ezra Malloy’s three daughters hadn’t gotten a physical thing from him, except the color of his eyes, and even then they were all three slightly different shades of blue.

  “Hey, what are you doing hiding back here?” Bonnie, the youngest Malloy sister, pulled up a chair and sat down beside him.

  “Just watching the people,” Waylon answered. “You look right pretty tonight, Bonnie. When I first saw you at Ezra’s funeral, you looked like maybe you were into motorcycles.”

  “I might have been, but they cost way too much money for me to own one. My boyfriend had one back in Harlan.” Bonnie sighed. “If I’d known Abby Joy was going to wear combat boots, I would have worn my comfortable lace-up biker boots.” She kicked off her shoes. “He bought me the jacket and boots, and then we broke up. He didn’t want me to come out here to Texas when Ezra died. He said I was too wild to live on a ranch. I’m proving him wrong.” She stopped, as if waiting for him to say something, but she hadn’t asked a question. After a few seconds she went on, “Have you ever been a groomsman before? This was my first time ever to be a bridesmaid.”

  “No,” he answered. “I’ve been to a lot of weddings, but I’m not usually one for big crowds.”

  Shiloh pushed the front door open and motioned to her sister. “Bonnie, come on. Abby Joy is getting ready to throw the bouquet.”

  Bonnie put her shoes on and got up, but Waylon stayed in his chair. Shiloh’s high-heeled shoes made a clicking noise on the wooden porch as she crossed it, and she crooked a finger at Waylon. “You too, cowboy. Cooper is about to take Abby Joy’s garter off, and he’s calling for all single men.”

  “Oh, no!” Waylon held up both palms. “I don’t want that thing.”

  “I’m not catching that bouquet either. I’m superstitious, and I refuse to be the next bride in the canyon,” Bonnie said. “I’m going to own a ranch in nine months. I sure don’t have time for romance.”

  “You’ll own the Malloy ranch over my dead body.” Shiloh did a head wiggle. “The best you’ll ever do is share it with me.”

  “Wanna bet?” Bonnie stopped at the door.

  Shiloh stuck out her hand. “Twenty bucks?”

  “How about a hundred and a bottle of good Kentucky bourbon?” Bonnie asked.

  “Deal!” Shiloh shook with her.

  Waylon didn’t have a doubt in his mind that Bonnie would be forking over money and bourbon. Next to Abby Joy, he’d never met a woman as determined as Shiloh—or as sassy for that matter.

  Shiloh surprised him when she grabbed his hand and tugged. “Come on. You can put your hands in your pockets, but you’re one of the wedding party. It wouldn’t be right for you not to be in on the garter toss.”

  He stood up, thinking she’d drop his hand, but she didn’t. Sparks flittered around the porch like fireflies on a summer night. Sure, Waylon had been attracted to Shiloh since the first time he laid eyes on her, but this tingly feeling was something he’d never felt before.

  She led him into the foyer, where the men were gathered over toward one end. Abby Joy was sitting about halfway up the stairs, and Cooper had begun to run his hand up her leg, searching for the garter. When he found the blue satin and white lace thing, he slipped it slowly down to her ankle. Whoops and hollers filled the room from the guys who were gathered up in a corner with their hands up. They were putting on quite a show for the lady who was filming, but then the garter wouldn’t stretch far enough to go over Abby Joy’s combat boot. The noise died down slightly as Cooper slowly untied the strings, pulled her boot off, and then slowly removed the garter from her foot. It got loud again when Cooper turned around backward and threw it over his shoulder. Several of the young unmarried men did their best to catch it, but it flew right past them and floated down to settle onto the top of Waylon’s black cowboy hat.

  “Guess you’re next in line, buddy.” Cooper laughed.

  There was no doubt that Cooper was talking to him, and all the guys around him were laughing and pointing. He brought his hands out of his pockets and held them up to show that he had nothing. “Can’t be me,” Waylon said. “Which one of y’all is hiding it and teasing me?”

  Shiloh reached up, removed Waylon’s hat, and showed him the garter, lying there in the creases. He wanted to pick the thing up and toss it to one of the other guys, but he was mesmerize
d by her beautiful blue eyes, which were staring right into his.

  “Fate says that you’re next,” she said.

  “Not damn likely,” he drawled.

  She picked up the garter and handed him back his hat. “Give me your arm. The photographer will want a picture of you and Cooper, since you caught the garter.”

  He held out his arm and she stretched the blue lace garter up past his elbow. Then she held up his arm like he’d just won the trophy at a wrestling tournament. “The winner and the next groom in the canyon is Waylon Stephens!”

  He played along, more to get to be near Shiloh than anything else. There was no way he’d be the next married man in the area. The only woman he was vaguely interested in was Shiloh, and he’d never knock her out of getting her share of Ezra Malloy’s ranch. Maybe after she’d secured the deed, he’d ask her for a date, but not before. She’d never forgive herself—or him—if she lost her part of the ranch, and besides, as pretty as she was, she was way out of his league.

  “And now the bouquet,” Abby Joy said. “All you ladies get your hands up and”—she turned around backward—“here it comes.” She let it fly, and it landed smack in Bonnie’s hands.

  “Someone take this thing from me, right now. I can’t get married or leave the ranch. It would cost me a hundred dollars and a bottle of Kentucky bourbon.” Bonnie tried to hand it off to the other girls, but none of them would touch it.

  After the photographer took a few pictures, Waylon took a few steps back and disappeared outside again into the shadows on the porch. He’d prove them all wrong about being the next man to get married, but Bonnie wouldn’t. Shiloh was going to own that ranch. Bonnie might as well face it.