The Cowboy’s Secret Bride
The Cowboy’s Secret Bride
By Cora Seton
Copyright © 2017 Cora Seton
Google Play Edition
Published by One Acre Press
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Author’s Note
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Excerpt from Issued to the Bride One Navy SEAL
About the Author
Author’s Note
The Cowboy’s Secret Bride is the first volume in the Turners v. Coopers series. To find out more, look for the rest of the books in the series, including:
The Cowboy’s Outlaw Bride (Volume 2)
The Cowboy’s Hidden Bride (Volume 3)
The Cowboy’s Stolen Bride (Volume 4)
The Cowboy’s Forbidden Bride (Volume 5)
Also, don’t miss Cora Seton’s Chance Creek series, the Cowboys of Chance Creek, the Heroes of Chance Creek, the Brides of Chance Creek, and the SEALs of Chance Creek:
The Cowboys of Chance Creek Series:
The Cowboy Inherits a Bride (Volume 0)
The Cowboy’s E-Mail Order Bride (Volume 1)
The Cowboy Wins a Bride (Volume 2)
The Cowboy Imports a Bride (Volume 3)
The Cowgirl Ropes a Billionaire (Volume 4)
The Sheriff Catches a Bride (Volume 5)
The Cowboy Lassos a Bride (Volume 6)
The Cowboy Rescues a Bride (Volume 7)
The Cowboy Earns a Bride (Volume 8)
The Cowboy’s Christmas Bride (Volume 9)
The Heroes of Chance Creek Series:
The Navy SEAL’s E-Mail Order Bride (Volume 1)
The Soldier’s E-Mail Order Bride (Volume 2)
The Marine’s E-Mail Order Bride (Volume 3)
The Navy SEAL’s Christmas Bride (Volume 4)
The Airman’s E-Mail Order Bride (Volume 5)
The Brides of Chance Creek Series:
Issued to the Bride One Navy SEAL
Issued to the Bride One Airman
Issued to the Bride One Sniper
Issued to the Bride One Marine
Issued to the Bride One Soldier
The SEALs of Chance Creek Series:
A SEAL’s Oath
A SEAL’s Vow
A SEAL’s Pledge
A SEAL’s Consent
A SEAL’s Purpose
A SEAL’s Resolve
A SEAL’s Devotion
A SEAL’s Desire
A SEAL’s Struggle
A SEAL’s Triumph
Visit Cora’s website at www.coraseton.com
Find Cora on Facebook at facebook.com/CoraSeton
Sign up for my newsletter HERE.
Chapter One
This wasn’t the place.
Carl Whitfield swept his gaze across the pastures before him, took in the squat, ugly house perched close by, and shook his head over the dilapidated barns and outbuildings some distance away.
“Hilltop Acres is a bargain,” Megan Lawrence, his realtor, said. An earnest young woman, she’d inherited him as a client when his former realtor, the senior partner at the firm, had given up on ever finding him a suitable property.
“It’s small,” he countered.
“It’s a ranch. Not many of them for sale around here.”
“You’re telling me.” He’d been searching for years. Three years, to be exact. He could picture what the right place would look like. A big house perched on a rise of ground, the land sloping away to a tremendous view. Plenty of acreage for a large cattle operation.
Not a stunted little spread like this one.
A prosperous ranch like the ones featured in the movies he used to watch with his father when he was young. His dad had spent summers in Montana when he was a kid. Loved to watch westerns and chew over old times.
“If you’re not interested, we’d better leave. I’ve got another appointment.” Megan pulled out her cell phone, frowned at something on the screen and tucked it away again.
Carl adjusted his hat. Back when his father was alive, he’d never dreamed he’d amass the means to buy a ranch. Now he wished his dad was here to help him pick one out. “Someone else is looking at this property?”
“No—it’s Camila Torres. She just wants a little place in town.”
“Camila—?” Carl cut off, his chest tightening. “Camila’s looking for a house?”
“That’s right. Two bedrooms, one bath. Close to her restaurant.”
He bit back a curse. He’d blown his chance with Camila a long time ago, but he’d hoped—
Hell, he’d hoped she’d give him a little while longer to fulfill the terms of her ultimatum. He’d known since the moment he’d met her she was the one for him, and at one time he’d been sure she felt the same way, but he’d blown it on their first real date. He’d gone too far, too fast. Instead of keeping to light topics and getting-to-know-you conversation, he’d found himself talking about marriage, family, and his plans for the future.
Camila had listened gravely, and told him she had one requirement for the man she married.
He had to commit to staying in Chance Creek.
It was a simple thing. Yet he’d hesitated to say he would—for a number of reasons. He hadn’t found a spread yet, he’d still had business in California that kept him flying back there frequently—and he’d still been too new to the community to feel secure in his place here. After all, his first attempt to settle in Chance Creek hadn’t gone so well.
He’d regretted that hesitation ever since.
“Carl, I like you—a lot,” Camila had said. “But I’m serious about this.”
“I’m looking for a ranch,” he’d told her.
“Ask me out again when you’ve bought one. Then I’ll know you mean to stay.”
“I hear some women like to pick out their home,” he’d teased her.
“Feel free to ask my opinion, but I’m not taking this any farther until you’ve settled here.”
“It’s only a matter of time, I promise.” Off-balance from the turn the conversation had taken, Carl hoped they could move on and enjoy the evening, but Camila had kept a polite distance for the remainder of the date. Carl, accepting the challenge she’d laid out for him, had redoubled his efforts to find a place. God knew he wanted to live here. Had wanted it for decades, ever since his father had first described the community. His dad hadn’t summered here—he’d stayed with his great-uncle who’d had a small spread much nearer to Bozeman—but family friends had owned a much larger ranch in Chance Creek at the time. Carl’s dad had considered it paradise. When Carl came to check out the town, he did too.
Unfortunately, finding a ranch here had proved impossible. He and Camila had drifted apart, until one day he realized he was avoiding her—and she was avoiding him. Things between them had gotten uncomfortable. His lack of progress made it look like he wasn’t interested in her. That wasn’t the case, and Carl didn’t know how it had come to this.
“Is Camila dating anyone?” he asked Megan, focusing on the present.
Megan shot him a curious look. “Not that I know of. She works too much to date.”
Carl nodded. That was Camila. She’d told him she’d spent every dim
e opening her restaurant with her partner, Fila Matheson. She wanted to build up her savings again. She’d set down roots—and she didn’t want anything to be able to dislodge her again.
He wanted that too. Always had.
But he’d begun to feel that his hesitation three years ago had cursed him. He hadn’t confirmed his desire to stay quickly enough, and ever since, Chance Creek kept rejecting him. Every time a suitable property came up for sale, someone bought it right out from under his nose.
If Camila purchased a home, it would sink the final nail in his coffin. He’d have to admit he’d blown it. She’d have made her own home in Chance Creek.
Without him.
He scanned the property again. It was small, but it was a working ranch. The house was a hovel—but he could rebuild.
“Carl? You coming?” Megan asked, already walking away.
“Yeah. Listen, I want to make an offer. First thing tomorrow,” he added when the realtor turned in surprise. He needed to talk to Camila first.
“Really?” Megan asked.
“Really.” He was done screwing around. Done waiting to start his life as a rancher.
Done standing by while Camila moved on without him.
He’d hesitated once—and lost his chance to be with her.
He sure as hell wasn’t going to let that happen again.
This wasn’t the place.
Camila tried to hide her disappointment as Megan extolled the virtues of a kitchen so small its oven and fridge were three-quarter size. The house’s two bedrooms had been hardly big enough to hold beds. It lacked hookups for a washer and dryer. The living room faced north, gloomy as a crypt on this beautiful spring morning.
It wasn’t going to work.
“It’s in your budget,” Megan reminded her when she was done praising the scant two feet of chipped counter-top.
“I guess I was hoping for something… more.”
She was hoping for something that felt like home, but all this place did was remind her that since leaving Houston she might have started a business and made some great friends, but her situation was still temporary. Someday one of the Turners would want the cabin she rented from them. Then what would she do? She’d scraped together a down payment that would barely get her into a house like this, but the truth was, she’d pictured something altogether different when she’d thought of buying a home.
Something bigger.
Prettier.
Something she wouldn’t move into alone.
She’d never thought she’d still be single when she went house-hunting. Once she’d even thought she’d found the man she wanted to be with—
But Carl hadn’t been ready to settle down. He hadn’t even been able to say if he planned to stay in Chance Creek. For all his promises that he’d buy a ranch soon, he never had.
He had stayed, though. Camila saw him all the time, and it was like torture having him so close—and knowing he wasn’t the one for her. She knew she’d done the right thing, though, cutting off contact with him.
Leaving Houston had nearly killed her. Striking out on her own after a lifetime at the heart of her big, boisterous family had been like stepping into an abyss—not knowing where she’d land, or if she’d survive.
She’d done well for herself since. Started her own business. Found wonderful friends. She was staying right here, for good. She needed a man as committed to Chance Creek as she was.
Or maybe she needed to be alone. Camila was beginning to think that staying in Chance Creek and having a partner in life were mutually exclusive.
“Are you and Carl an item?” Megan asked.
Camila swung around to stare at her. “Me and Carl?” Had Megan read her mind?
“He asked about you this morning. I didn’t know you two were friends.”
He’d asked about her?
Camila couldn’t say why the thought left her breathless. It wasn’t like she still carried a torch for him after all this time. He obviously didn’t carry one for her. He was polite when they met. He was still living in a cabin on the Cooper spread. No closer than he’d been three years ago to buying a place of his own.
She pictured the handsome cowboy in this kitchen, bumping against the counter in the too-small space, trying to maneuver around the table she’d have to add. He wouldn’t fit.
Which didn’t matter. Carl would never be in this house.
Camila gave herself a mental shake. She had to make decisions based on reality, not fantasy, but she heard herself say, “I—uh—I don’t think this house is for me.”
Megan sighed. “Let’s see what else we can find.”
Carl’s foot tapped as he waited in line at the Chance Creek Spring Fling fair later that afternoon for a chance to talk to Camila, who was turning skewers of chicken on the grill in the food tent in front of him. Pent up energy made him restless. It was riling him up to wait rather than just put in that offer on Hilltop Acres. He’d gotten skunked not once, but several times before when he hadn’t moved fast enough to purchase a place. He wasn’t the only one desperate for a ranch around here.
He had to win out this time, but he had to talk to Camila first. While he did, he’d grab some of her delicious butter chicken nachos, which he’d been craving.
He ached to steal a kiss, too. As soon as he’d given himself leave to think about pursuing Camila again, all his desire for her had flooded back. He’d been keeping it at bay through sheer doggedness. That wasn’t working anymore.
Unfortunately, Maya Turner was also manning the booth. She’d taken to helping Camila and Fila on festival days. With the Turner/Cooper feud as hot as the eighty-five-degree temperatures that had nudged Chance Creek into an early summer, everyone knew it would only take one spark to really set off a blaze between the families. Last week there’d been a minor altercation at the Dancing Boot between Liam Turner and Lance Cooper.
He’d have to watch what he said in front of Maya. No one needed another fight on a day like this.
By the time he made it to the counter of the concession stand, where Maya manned the till under a large white canopy, Carl was starving. And hot. A trickle of sweat made its way between his shoulder blades under his black cotton T-shirt.
“I’ll have a plate of those butter chicken nachos,” he told Maya when it was his turn to order.
Fila came to deliver a plate of food to another customer, flipped her long black braid over her shoulder and said, “Hey, Carl. How are you doing?” She was sensibly dressed in a light cotton sundress.
“Pretty terrific.”
Fila raised her eyebrows at his enthusiasm. “Finally found a ranch?” she quipped.
Hell. It was no secret he’d been looking for a long time, but he glanced at Maya, hoping she didn’t know why he needed one so badly. “Actually, yeah, I did.”
Fila blinked in surprise, leaned closer and asked, “Does that mean you’ll finally ask her out?” She lowered her voice nearly to a whisper. “Camila’s wasting her life waiting for you.”
Carl winced. He wasn’t trying to waste Camila’s life. Still, if Fila thought she was still waiting for him, that was good news. Maybe all his worries were for nothing.
“Ask who out?” Maya chirped, leaning closer, too. “Who does Carl want to date?”
Camila looked up from the grill, caught Carl’s gaze, blushed and swiftly looked away.
Carl’s body reacted immediately to that blush, and he wanted to vault the table and go straight to her. Instead he cleared his throat and sent Fila a pointed look. “No one.”
Fila had the grace to look chagrined. It wouldn’t do for Maya to learn about his history with Camila—or the attraction that simmered between them still.
At least on his side.
Carl dipped his head and glanced Camila’s way under the brim of his hat. She was doing a good job pretending not to notice the conversation, but he knew she was listening. She was still flushed, her mouth pinched in a thin line. He wished like hell Maya wasn’t here—it wa
s impossible to tell if Camila’s reaction was due to the presence of the Turner or because she’d decided she would rather Carl never found a ranch at all. After all, according to Megan, she was looking for a house of her own.
“I’ve been doing what needed to be done,” he told Fila, loudly enough for Camila to hear. “A promise is a promise.” He hoped they both understood what he meant.
Camila glanced up again. Caught his eye. Looked away with a shake of her head.
Carl’s gut tightened. What did that mean?
“A promise is stupid if you ask me,” Fila said just as loudly. “You’re lucky no one else came along to steal her heart.”
“Who’s heart?” Maya asked. “And why are you all yelling?”
Carl gripped the edge of the counter. No one had better be chasing after Camila. He was still trying to process that head shake. Was she telling him to stop talking about it in front of Maya? Or was she telling him she wasn’t interested anymore?
“It could happen, you know,” Fila asserted.
He did know. Camila was something special. He was amazed she’d waited this long for him to get it together, and sometimes he worried another man would snatch her up before he could find what he was looking for.
“Who. Are. You. Talking. About?” Maya demanded.
Carl paid for his order and stepped aside to wait for his food without answering her, and Maya let out a little huff. “Coopers,” she said derisively.
“Carl’s not a Cooper,” Fila told her.
“He might as well be. He worships them. And he acts like them, too. Stubborn as a mule.”
Carl kept his cool. He’d never understood the feud between the two families, or how someone as level-headed as Maya could fall under its sway.
But all the Turners were like that. Dead set against the Coopers. And vice versa. Had been for years.
While Carl waited, he kept his eye on Camila, but she never once looked up to meet his gaze. He knew she got a great deal on rent from the Turners and wouldn’t want to put that in jeopardy just to chat with him—not until he’d bought his ranch and made it clear he meant to stay.