Their six-year-old son, that was. Hers and Remington’s. The son he didn’t know anything about.

  Guilt gnawed at her as she glanced at the cleaning supplies, her hands itching to start cleaning something. But Melody knew that more scrubbing wasn’t going to help. She’d made a hell of a mess, and no amount of scrubbed tile or scoured chrome was going to tidy it up. When Remington arrived, ready to take over the ranch, she was going to have to tell him the truth—and deal with the messy fight that was bound to follow.

  Maria stepped back, giving Melody’s arm a sympathetic squeeze as she poured them each a cup of coffee. “Have you thought about how you’re going to tell Remington? About…everything?” she asked, handing Melody a mug.

  That nearly got a laugh out of her. Maria was being subtle, but there was really no need for discretion. Colton’s paternity was the worst kept secret in town. That was what happened when you spent all of your teenage years so hung up on a guy the whole town noticed, and then had a baby nine months after he left everything behind to become King of the Rodeo. Everyone in town had been nice enough not to mention him to her, not to bring up how she’d been left behind, but that didn’t mean they weren’t aware. Everyone was aware. No one more so than Melody herself.

  “Yes. No,” Melody amended. She leaned back against the counter, cradling the mug between her hands. “I don’t think there’s a good way to tell someone that they have a child they didn’t know about. If there was, I would’ve figured it out long before this.” She shook her head when Maria went to hug her again. She needed to stay strong, especially with Remington due to arrive any minute.

  “It’s simple,” Maria told her. “All you say is, ‘Hey, Rem, you know how I’ve been in love with you since I was a kid? And how we had that one magical night together at prom? Well, turns out you left me with a little souvenir, and my kid is actually your kid.’ What?” Maria said at Melody’s sharp look. “I said it was simple, not easy. You kissed ‘easy’ goodbye when you didn’t tell him the minute you found out you were pregnant.”

  “I know,” Melody said tersely. But she’d only been eighteen then, just barely out of high school. She’d been young and scared, and she’d been so damn in love with Remington. And he’d had all these dreams. He’d been so certain he was going to be the greatest thing rodeo had ever seen, and he was determined to prove himself. And she knew the second she told him about the baby, he’d leave all that behind and do the responsible thing—even if it meant checking his dreams at the door. She couldn’t ask that of him. So…she hadn’t. And she’d just kept on not telling him. Keeping the secret had actually been easier than she’d expected. In the handful of times she’d seen him over the years, during brief visits to his father that never lasted longer than a day or two, they’d rarely had the chance for more than a hug hello and a wave goodbye.

  But he was coming home to stay, or so he’d implied. He wanted to get involved with the cowboy camps, wanted to continue his father’s legacy. Whether he’d actually stick around long term in the town he couldn’t escape from fast enough remained to be seen…but at the very least, he’d be here long enough to make certain conversations impossible to avoid.

  “I’m going to tell him. I will,” she insisted when Maria gave her a skeptical look. “I wanted to tell him at Dane’s funeral, but he was barely here. And he looked…” Melody shook her head at the memory of the hollow, faded look Remington had worn every moment when he’d come back to bury his father six months ago. “And Colton was so devastated, too. You know how much he loved Dane. Between taking care of him and then making sure everything here was in order, I hardly had a minute to figure out whether I was coming or going—and then before I knew it, Remington was gone again. But I’m going to tell them,” she said firmly. “Both of them.”

  Seven years, Melody, she thought. “I’ll tell him,” Melody said again, as much to herself as to her friend, “as soon as he gets here.”

  “I can’t believe he didn’t piece it together already. I mean, Colton’s the spitting image of Rem,” Maria said, blowing on her cup of coffee to cool it. “And then his daddy went and left half the family ranch to your son. Why did Remington think Dane did that?”

  Melody shrugged, wiping down a counter. “I don’t know. Maybe he told himself that it was Dane’s way of taking care of Colton, since he’s basically grown up here—or an indirect way of thanking me for working here for so long.” Since she’d been thirteen, and desperate to find something to do that would take her out of her house.

  Her friend sounded skeptical when she replied. “If Dane wanted to take care of you and Colton, he would’ve left half the ranch to you, not a first grader. That really didn’t set off any warning bells?”

  Melody shook her head. “Remington knew we’d been living here. That I’d been working with his father—and taking care of him, too, in the past few years, though I don’t think Dane ever let Remington know just how bad his health had gotten. The man knew how to keep a secret. Dane…” She hesitated. “He never said anything to me, but I suspected he might have worked it out on his own, that he was Colton’s grandfather. He’d always been so firm that we were family. That he wanted to me to keep running the ranch after he—” Melody stopped. Almost seven months now, and it still hurt. “He treated me like a daughter, long before Colton came along.”

  The funeral had been the worst moment of her life. She’d gone back and forth so many times about whether or not to tell Remington just then—if it would be a comfort, or if she’d just be hurting him even worse. Remington had been a mess that weekend, grey-faced and silent. He’d barely spent any time at the ranch house, as if he couldn’t bear to be here without his father, riding out for hours at a time and leaving almost as soon as the funeral was over. She knew that he needed space to deal with his feelings—that had always been how Remington worked through things, even when they were young—but it had only made it harder to tell him about Colton then. So she hadn’t.

  “You should’ve told him at the will reading,” Maria said. “I still can’t believe Rem didn’t ask any questions about splitting the ranch with Colton.”

  Melody sighed. “I know. I should have. I messed up, and however he feels, whatever he says, I deserve it. But from here on out, no more hiding things. This is a new start for us. Not like that,” she added quickly, at her friend’s suggestive look. “Remington and I are…we’re done. No, we never actually started. We were friends who had a one-night stand that had some…unexpected results. And now, we’ll be partners for the camps, for this ranch and everything that Dane left to us. That’s all.”

  To Melody’s relief, Maria just gave her a sympathetic look. “At least you’ll have Remington for this camp season. I know how hard it was for you last summer, trying to run this place by yourself—not that you’d ever ask for help,” she said pointedly. And added, “I got it covered,” before Melody could say it herself.

  Melody grimaced. Okay, maybe she did say that a lot. “Well, I do. I worked out a plan and a budget for this year and everything. One that will allow us to fix up everything that needs to be fixed, and maybe even improve upon a few things. And Remington will help—when he can. Apparently there’s this TV show that wants to follow him during the camp renovations,” she explained. “Some kind of HGTV celebrity fixer-upper thing. Rodeo Star Remington Collier returns to his family ranch and does cowboy construction.” Melody shrugged. Remington had sent her the basic details, so she wouldn’t be surprised to see a film crew show up on the ranch, she guessed. “I’m thinking that’s going to take up most of his time, so I don’t know how much he’ll be able to lend a hand with the day-to-day operations.”

  “What? A TV show? Tell me everything,” Maria demanded, setting her coffee mug down on the counter with a thunk. “Does this have to do with that interview he gave about redoing the camps? What? I have a Google alert on his name,” she informed her when Melody stared at her. “Ranch Reno or On the Range Renovations, something like that.”

  Melody nodded. “He hasn’t said a whole lot about it. Told me we’d go over all of it when he got out here. But he said he had plans.” Remington always did have a plan. And he was always stubborn as a bull when it came to believing that it was the best and only plan out there, and it didn’t matter if it didn’t include you.

  She tried to ignore the swift stab of pain to her heart. It was an old wound, and she’d learned to live with it.

  Grab your copy of

  Cowboy’s Secret Son

  Available 27 January 2022

  Available for pre-order now

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  BLURB

  Christmas with her cowboy ex. What could possibly go wrong?

  After his mother’s death, Beau Taylor returned from college to care for his baby sister. He left behind his dream of becoming a cinematographer—and his heart.

  The cowboy never thought he’d see Amelia Crawford again. She followed her dreams and became a big movie star. But when she shows up in town to shoot a western ten years later, their worlds collide after Beau’s ranch is selected as the perfect filming location.

  With Beau’s attraction to Amelia growing, it might also be the perfect setting for a Christmas romance. But falling for Amelia means letting her in again, and his heart still has the scars from the first time.

  Amelia finally has the chance to make a serious film, but she needs to learn how to ride a horse—and Beau is the perfect person to teach her. She’d forgotten how gorgeous he is, and how his touch made her feel.

  Amelia can make audiences believe she’s in love, yet the only time she’s ever truly fallen for a man was with the smoldering Beau. But how can she trust that her cowboy won’t break her heart again? Maybe what they need is a bit of Christmas magic...

  Grab your copy of Cowboy’s Christmas Past www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  EXCERPT

  Chapter One

  Amelia Crawford was a huge movie star. Big enough that even here in the small, backwater Texas town of Crystal Creek, Beau would be able to recognize her.

  But that had less to do with her fame than the memory of the kisses they had shared back when they were just two college students far away from home. Back when everything was simpler.

  Back when he’d thought her last name was Hadley.

  Beau looked down at his hands. He’d been standing here at the kitchen sink, washing the rim of his coffee mug over and over again as he stared out the window. He couldn’t help himself.

  The only woman he’d ever loved was about to show up at his door ten years after they’d said their final goodbyes.

  “I’ve got the dishes,” Beau’s father said from the kitchen doorway.

  Beau sighed and set the thoroughly scoured mug down in the dish drain before turning to his dad. Jarod Taylor gave his son a casual smile that did nothing to hide the worried creases around his eyes. “Stop fretting so much,” Beau’s father said, coming forward to gently clap his son on the shoulder. “It’s not like she’s a complete stranger.”

  That was the problem, though. Ami—or Amelia, which was what she went by now—was worse than a stranger. She was someone Beau had thought he knew better than anyone in the world, someone he thought knew him. But Ami Hadley, the sweet girl he’d fallen for at Loyola Marymount, was apparently just another acting role played by Amelia Crawford, the Hollywood darling of her father’s production company. It was Amelia that was arriving at Shining Waters Dude Ranch this morning to film her latest movie.

  Beau forced his shoulders to relax. “I wouldn’t call it fretting so much as well-earned wariness,” he countered. “I’m just wondering why I thought it was a good idea to turn this place into a film set for a bunch of Hollywood suits who probably don’t know which end of a horse is which.”

  The slight tilt to his father’s eyebrow was, as always, all Beau needed to feel thoroughly scolded. “Okay, I’m exaggerating a little,” he admitted.

  “I couldn’t tell at all,” his father said dryly. Then his expression softened. “If you had any objections to them filming here, why didn’t you say so until now? All I remember you saying was how much you loved the original version of The Searchers and how cool it was that they were remaking it with that new twist, putting a female in the leading role. I thought you were excited that they wanted to shoot it right here.”

  “I said that because I know we need the money, Dad.”

  His father blinked, hurt flashing across his expression, and Beau immediately felt bad for landing such a low blow.

  Shining Waters Dude Ranch wasn’t hurting-hurting. They were in no danger of losing the land that had been in his family for generations. But Beau was still reeling over the latest financial statements. Before his father had handed over control of the ranch—turning over the reins, as he’d joked proudly—Beau had had no idea just how close to the bone everything was, and had been for years. They were only just breaking even month to month, which left nothing left over to build up a savings cushion, much less make long-delayed repairs on the aging equipment.

  The idea that he could lose something so precious as his family’s ranch over something as simple as an unexpected expense had Beau more rattled than he wanted his father to see. For the amount the Hollywood studio was paying to use the ranch, he’d have let them line up every girl he’d ever dated to take turns throwing tomatoes at him. The money was just too good to refuse. So he forced a smile onto his face. “Because having a bigger savings cushion would be pretty great, right?”

  “So you have mentioned,” his father sighed. “And that cushion you keep rattling on about is the whole reason you agreed to give Amelia some riding lessons before the shooting starts, right? So how about you remember that, and stop wearing a groove in the Spanish tiles your grandmother loved so much?”

  Beau stopped mid-stride, realizing that he was in the process of doing just that. His father nodded in satisfaction before stepping over to the sink to finish washing the dishes.

  “Is she here?” came a screech from the above them. Both men looked up, Jarod with a chuckle, and Beau with a groan.

  A moment later, Delilah, Beau’s kid sister, was barreling down the stairs at her usual full sprint. She skidded around the corner and burst into the doorway, her hair a mess and her eyes wild. “Why didn’t you get me up?” she demanded, pointing an accusing finger at her big brother. “I don’t want to be in my pajamas when the actress gets here!”

  “Then you’d better get your clothes on!” Jarod laughed from the sink. He came over and hugged his daughter, taking the opportunity to run his wet hands over her hair in a futile attempt to smooth it down. “You haven’t missed anything yet, Del. Oh, and good morning to you.”

  “Good morning, Daddy,” she grumped, impatient but too well raised to run away from the obligatory morning hug. She trudged over to Beau, who chuckled at her perfunctory embrace before he patted her on her back. “The actress should be here soon, so scoot!”

  Delilah hollered something that sounded like a curse word caught at the last minute and flew out of the room again. When his father looked at him, Beau threw up his hands defensively. “She did not learn that from me,” he protested. “Probably heard it from one of the hands.”

  “Mm-hmm,” Jarod said, looking like he wanted to say more. But just as he opened his mouth, the sound of tires on their gravel drive reached both their ears.

  “She’s here! She’s here!” Delilah screeched from upstairs. Her voice disintegrated into garbled wailing half-drowned out by a series of alarming thumps. “I’m not ready!”

  Forgetting all about how he had just spent the past five minutes claiming not to be nervous, Beau rushed to the wide picture window that overlooked the winding drive. His ears—and his sister’s shrieks—had not deceived him.

  A single black SUV bumped slowly up the drive, the glossy black surface somehow immune to the swirls of dust it kicked up as it approached, as if the humble Texas dirt didn’t dare sully the vehicle that transported such a fancy and important person.

  A fancy and important person that had, once upon a time, been the very center of Beau’s world.

  Beau felt a twinge in the depths of his gut. They had been kids, and life had taken them along different paths, but Beau would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of her every day since the moment they’d gone their separate ways.

  He’d thought about Ami Hadley, though—and she had never really existed. And ever since, years later, he’d found out who she really was, those thoughts had turned from sweet to bitter. How much of it had been an act? Had she been laughing at him the whole time?

  When she stepped out of the SUV, he saw that her hair was still the same beautiful color, like sunshine and buttercups. Beau swallowed hard, unable to deny the pull he still felt toward her. It had been that way ever since he’d first laid eyes on her stretched out on the quad, sunning her long, elegant body without a care in the world. He’d been drawn to her then not only because she was beautiful but because, in a sea of groups of two and three, she was the only one who seemed perfectly at ease with her own company. Beau had been attracted to and curious about her in equal measure.

  But that was then. This was now. And right now, she was their guest—and nothing more.

  “Welcome to Shining Waters!” Jarod called, his familiar booming welcome. Even though he was no longer technically in charge, Jarod always treated everyone with the same scrupulous hospitality.

  “Joseph Parks,” the neat, almost elegantly thin man who’d emerged from the SUV after Ami—Amelia—introduced himself.

  “Of course, the director!” Jarod pumped the trim man’s hand enthusiastically. “Welcome, we’re happy to have you.”