“I’m happy to help,” Cal said.

  “Nice of you.” Her tone and expression softened, and despite himself Cal felt an attraction to her. Then he remembered the ring. She was somebody else’s wife, and he’d never been that kind of man. “Okay, so I’ve worked out a schedule with what I’m told is the usual sort of promo if you’d like to take a look.”

  He studied the paper she placed in front of him. Promotional tours were nothing new and he didn’t see anything on the list that he objected to. “Seems good.” He met her gaze and saw the haunted look again. She cleared her throat and looked away.

  He thought about letting it drop, pretending that everything was normal—but he was going to be here for a solid month, and that was a real long time to ignore an elephant in the room. “Amy, I sure wish you’d tell me what’s wrong. Do you not want me here?” He thought that would be odd, but you never knew. Maybe she had another rider in mind for the rodeo.

  “Of course, Darby Crossing wants you,” she said with another pleasant, but quite sincere smile. “You’ll be a huge draw for the rodeo, and we’ll be rebuilding in no time.”

  “Maybe you just don’t like us rodeo types,” he suggested, trying to get to the heart of the matter.

  She sighed and sat back in her seat, the forced cheerfulness fading. “It’s not that either. It’s nothing to do with you or the rodeo at all, truly. I’m sorry if my behavior isn’t welcoming.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Cal said cautiously. “You just seem uncomfortable with me.”

  She glanced toward the only window in her office and seemed to focus on the pine tree outside it. Silence hung in the air until she spoke in a low tone. “It’s just that you look so much like my husband. He died in a car accident four years ago. It was a shock seeing you. That’s all. Nothing personal.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your husband.” And he was. He didn’t like the idea of her suffering, and she clearly had. Her words also explained the strange reaction of the folks out on the street. “Maybe it would be better if I left town. I’ve got plenty of connections in the rodeo world to find a replacement rider for you.”

  “No, no.” She straightened. “You’re a great choice for us.” Her smile returned. It was still a little uncertain, but brighter than it had been. “Such a strange coincidence though, isn’t it? The kind of thing that happens in movies.”

  “I guess so,” he said, but a thought formed in his head that nagged at him.

  Before wrapping up, he agreed to meet her for a welcome to town dinner. Since he had some time, Cal made his way to where he’d be staying. The mayor’s office had found him a locally owned bed and breakfast. The owner personally escorted him to a suite that was a little old-fashioned, but was still bigger and nicer than many of the places Cal had stayed.

  Once he was alone, he sank down on the couch and placed his phone on the coffee table in front of him. He was considering calling his parents. He was going to call them, but he wasn’t sure of the conversation he’d start. Since he was a little kid, his folks had been honest with him about his adoption. They’d gotten him as a baby, and they loved to tell the story of picking him up from the adoption agency and how thrilled they’d been to have a child.

  He’d never been curious about his biological parents because he loved his adopted ones unconditionally. Zoe and Edmund Pierce had married late in life, too late to have a child of their own, but plenty young enough to love Cal and his adopted sister Jennifer. His attachment to his family had almost been enough to keep him in one place, but both he and his parents knew he wouldn’t have been happy with that. He’d been itching to see more of the world—and the rodeo had been calling him. So they’d supported him throughout his career. And he’d loved them for that, too.

  But did he want to ask the question that formed in his mind? He leaned forward and snatched the phone, hitting the button for Zoe’s number.

  “Howdy, Mom,” he said when she answered.

  “Cal, so good to hear from you.” His mom’s voice brought instant calm to him. He settled back and let the conversation run its usual course where he checked up on everyone in the family and told his mom what he’d been up to since their last call a week earlier.

  He considered just letting his question about the adoption go. Learning whether or not he had a biological brother wasn’t going to change who he was and might just stir up a hornet’s nest for him, his family, and the people of Darby Crossing. But something in him had to know.

  “Mom, what do you know about where I came from?” he said when there was a lull in the conversation. He could imagine the expression on his mom’s face. It would be a little shock and a whole lot of sympathy.

  “What do you want to know?” Zoe asked.

  “Do you have a name for my birth mother, or a town where she lived?”

  “I have some information. Just give me a minute,” she said.

  He heard a tap as the phone was laid down, and he wondered if he’d made a mistake. But it was too late to take it back, and damn if he wasn’t curious.

  “I don’t have a lot,” Zoe said, coming back on the line, “but I do have your original birth certificate. Your mom’s name was Laura Cooper. No father’s name is listed.”

  “A birthplace?” he prompted, hoping that would fill in at least one of the gaps.

  “You were born in Austin. Cal, why are you asking me this now?” It was a legitimate question since he hadn’t worried about it for thirty-two years. So he told her the story of what had happened in Amy’s office and on the street in Darby Crossing. Zoe listened until he was done. “Well, that must have been a shock for the poor woman. And for you, too. Are you all right? What do you plan to do?”

  Cal was more curious than concerned. Once he had confirmation either way of whether he had biological family here, he’d decide how he felt and what he’d do.

  “Maybe an online search will tell me something about her,” Cal said, knowing there was no “maybe” about it. He was going to start digging. “If I find anything, I’ll figure out the next step.”

  “You know your father and I are always here for you.” If love could be heard, Cal picked it out in the tone of Zoe’s words.

  “I know, Mom. Love to Dad and Jennifer. Call you soon,” he said and hung up. Without pausing, he reached for his laptop and typed the name Laura Cooper Thorne into the search box. Over the next hour, he learned plenty about the woman who—he became more and more convinced—was likely his mother. She’d married into the Thorne ranch family, the most prosperous ranchers in the area, and had raised three sons. Luke had been born four years after Cal, and there were twin boys, Jake and Brian, born two years after Luke.

  He had brothers. Half-brothers. Who probably had no idea he existed. Then he came across the reports of the car accident that killed Luke Thorne and his father. Amy hadn’t said that it had been a double tragedy for the family or that Luke had caused the accident. Cal read more about Luke. The newspaper accounts and obituary made it clear that he was the town’s golden boy. High school athletic star and heir to the ranch, loved by everyone and sorely missed by all, including his widow and young son.

  And, God almighty, did Cal and Luke look alike based on the pictures he found. A photo taken a few months before the accident confirmed that. Luke, poor guy, hadn’t lived past twenty-four years old. Cal pulled up a picture of himself taken when he was the same age and had just won a big event. Side-by-side, he and Luke Thorne were nearly identical.

  No wonder Amy’s reaction had been so instant and strong. She must have thought she was seeing the ghost of her dead husband. Cal closed the lid on his laptop, wondering what he was going to do about it. Should he tell Amy? Should he visit his biological mother and meet his half-brothers? Would they want anything to do with him?

  His phone’s alarm sounded. Dang it. He needed to meet Amy for dinner. He grabbed his Stetson and headed for the door, still unsure of what to do. He could keep his discovery to himself, do the event scheduled for four weeks from today, and leave town afterward as quickly as possible.

  But he didn’t think that was how it would play out.

  Grab your copy of Cowboy’s Unexpected Family (Thorne Ranch Brothers Book One)

  Available June 17th, 2021.

  Available for Pre-Order now.

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  BLURB

  She needs a job—yesterday.

  He owes his best friend a favor.

  Neither expected to end up in bed together…

  Reluctantly returning to her hometown, single mom Ava Pearson just wants a job to get her back on her feet and escape again. But when she asked her brother for help, the last place she thought she’d end up was in the office of his jaw-droppingly-hot best friend.

  Branson Beckett needs help, but if comes in the form of firecracker Ava, he’ll have to pass—he doesn't need that kind of distraction, especially now. He’s the owner of a ranch on the brink of expansion and is looking for a few good ranch hands to help him out. However, he wasn’t thinking of his best friend’s little sister when it came to hard labor. No, he’d thought of her in other hard situations, but they usually involved his great big bed. Dreams that had no place in reality.

  But her brother calls in a favour and he can’t not help a single mom out—his own mom raised him better than that. Plus Branson does need her help interviewing his ranch hands. It’s a win-win. He’ll fix his personnel problem, and she’ll get the cash she needs to move back out. Definitely no romance.

  Yet as personnel issues lead to personal pleasure between them, Ava’s big city dreams begin to drift away, replaced by visions of a family in the country with a hunky cowboy. Branson loves having Ava and her son on the ranch, but can he finally see her as the woman of his dreams, instead of off-limits?

  Grab your copy of Wrangling His Best Friend’s Sister (Beckett Brothers Book One) from www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  EXCERPT

  Bull shit. It had been ten years since she’d last seen Branson Beckett, and now they were discussing bull shit. The actual excrement of cattle.

  "There’s always manure to be shoveled, Ava," he said blandly, a subtle Texas twang infusing his rough, deep voice. "It’s dirty, smelly, hot work."

  He was trying to scare her off, and she’d be damned if she let him. She needed a job—a temporary job—and she wasn’t about to let a little cow manure keep her from her goal.

  "I’m not afraid of hard work, Bran, you ought to know that."

  His jaw clenched, a sure sign her older brother Hoyt’s high school bestie was trying to maintain his cool, something Branson was famous for. That and being a control freak.

  "I don’t think you’re afraid of hard work," he answered, his steely blue gaze darting over her shoulder. "But you went to all the trouble to get those fancy journalism degrees. Seems like working as one of my ranch hands isn’t really the right…fit for you."

  Ava took a deep breath, looking around the bustling exhibition hall at the county fairgrounds where the annual job fair was underway. Information tables lined the polished concrete floors—ranches, feedlots, construction companies, transport companies—most of the businesses in the county had some sort of presence. Even Nadine’s downtown diner was there.

  Not that Nadine needed new staff—she’d staked out a table to lure every passing cowboy with samples of strawberry rhubarb pie. Nadine did love her some cowboys, and her Dolly Parton platinum wig and fake eyelashes bobbed rhythmically as she giggled at something Horace Watson’s grandson said through the enormous bite of pie he’d stuffed into his generous mouth. Branson, following Ava’s gaze, rolled his eyes at Nadine’s nonsense.

  "I see Jason Adams from the paper heading this way. Why don’t you go talk to him? I hear he might want some part-time help at the community desk.” He gave her a quick, somewhat uncomfortable smile. “You must be more than qualified for that kind of thing."

  Ava sighed, the pressure in her head expanding painfully. It had been two weeks since she’d returned to her hometown of Gopher Springs, Texas, and things hadn’t gotten any easier. She didn’t want to be here, but until she could get back on her feet and pick up a reporting gig in Dallas, she needed to find a way to earn a living for her and Cam—and one not engineered by her parents.

  Branson shifted his gaze back to her, and she met it squarely, trying to ignore the little butterflies fluttering in her midsection. God, the man was stunning. She’d thought no one could be more beautiful than Branson at nineteen as he dove into the pool in her family’s back yard, but that was only because she hadn’t seen this new, improved, very grown-up version of Bran.

  His dark hair had thickened over the years, and it curled slightly around his ears, just a touch too long to be stylish. His six-foot-one frame had filled out admirably, muscles gained through hard work, not a gym. His skin was bronzed, his stubble the perfect length, and his ass in a pair of Wranglers… Spectacular.

  She gave her head a gentle shake. Down girl. Focus on the job. You can fantasize later.

  "Look, Bran," she said, stepping closer and dropping her voice. "I’ll never get back to a full-time job in Dallas if I’m working for minimum wage, reporting on PTA meetings. And I won’t be able to afford a place of my own on that kind of money, either. I need to get out of my parents’ house. Cam and I are used to having our independence, you know?"

  She looked at him, letting just a little of her genuine desperation show through. Dear Lord, please let him give her a job.

  Bran did that jaw-clenching thing again and sucked in air through his nose, but before he could answer, Jason Adams appeared at her elbow, his sparse gray hair hanging limply to one side, wire-rimmed glasses perched on his bony nose. He clicked a ballpoint pen in one hand nervously, scuffing a foot at the same time.

  "Hey, Ava," he said.

  She plastered on a smile before turning his way. "Hi, Jason. How are you?"

  "Your parents said you’ve moved back—"

  "Temporarily," Ava interrupted. "Cam and I are spending a little time here while I’m between jobs in Dallas."

  "Well, I might have something down at the paper for you if you want a job. It’s part-time, community desk. It’d be great for a mom. You’d get to cover stuff like the Fall Harvest Fest and the Fourth of July float-building contest."

  Ava’s gut curdled as anger suffused her. She hadn’t spent the last ten years studying and working as an investigative journalist to report on Fourth of July float building. She narrowed her eyes at Jason, but he seemed oblivious to her impending meltdown and kept on flapping his gums.

  "Your folks said you’re living with them, so you don’t really need something full-time. Seems like this would be a lot better for you and your little guy than some demanding grind in a big city." He gave her a sympathetic look that hit her in the gut. She knew then her parents had blabbed that she’d been fired from the paper in Dallas.

  She turned to look at Branson, but he’d already moved away, waylaid by another job seeker, a tall young man wearing the requisite dusty boots and a t-shirt that said Granby’s Feed and Seed. Bran was nodding enthusiastically and pulling out his phone to get the guy’s number. She gritted her teeth as she watched her plans blow away like a West Texas tumbleweed.

  "Ava?" Jason drew her attention back to him.

  "Yeah, I’m sorry," she told him, her tone curt at best. "I appreciate the offer, Jason, but it’s not quite what I’m looking for."

  "I think you’re making a big mistake—"

  The young cowboy moved away from Branson. It was now or never.

  "Sorry, Jason, I need to talk to Bran, but thanks again for thinking of me."

  Jason started to stammer a response, but she was already heading back toward Branson, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. She scuttled around a couple of women standing in the walkway looking at a map of the exhibitors.

  "Bran!" she called as she stepped double-time in his direction.

  He sighed, looking put-upon and just plain tuckered.

  "Ava—"

  "Hear me out," she pleaded. To hell with pride. It was overrated, anyway.

  He crossed nicely muscled arms and raised an eyebrow.

  "I need this job. My parents think I’m going to stay here in Gopher Springs, and…" She swallowed, recent humiliations crashing over her in waves. "I just want my life back. But until then, I need to earn money, I need a place for Cam and me to bunk, and I’m ready to work hard for it."

  She saw a look of sympathy pass over his handsome features as he responded, "I’m sorry, that was inconsiderate of me. I haven’t even stopped to give you my condolences. Hoyt told me about what happened to your husband. I’m real sorry."

  She nodded. No matter how many times she heard the words, she didn’t think she’d ever get used to people offering condolences on Nathan’s death. But then, she also wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to her twenty-nine-year-old husband being dead.

  "Thank you," she answered, tipping her chin a smidgeon higher because she couldn’t afford a sad trip down memory lane right now. "So, about the job?"

  Bran’s expression hardened. "Look, Ava, Hoyt also told me what happened with your job in Dallas…"

  He let the words hang there, the judgment clear.

  "Cam and I had a run of bad luck," she countered. "He had this terrible virus—all the kids in his preschool had it. The paper was looking for people to lay off. It was the perfect storm."

  "You’re a single mom.” His eyes bored into hers. “I’m guessing missing a lot of work to take care of Cam is going to be the norm for a while. I need ranch hands who can be there no matter what, rain or shine, especially with branding season coming up."

  "And I can be that person," she asserted. "My parents are here, and they can take care of him. My dad retired last year so he and Mom are available pretty much 24/7. Cam’s their only grandchild. They’re dying to spend as much time with him as they can."