ection id="ue5a05fe8-35bc-5191-9ce2-ee2bcdc64d65">
Love takes time...
Grant Campbell’s survived some hard knocks to realize his dream of breeding horses on a Colorado ranch. But his simmering attraction to secretive Crimson Slayton isn’t good at all. And remaining just friends isn’t possible once tragedy leaves them in charge of a helpless baby.
Stuck in dangerously close proximity and playing family, Grant and Crimson can’t resist what feels right. But while he’s a man all about dreams, she has no faith in them. Together, can they get past her fears and find a reality that trumps even his wildest dreams?
Grant couldn’t tend a baby. Period.
His cell phone chose that moment to buzz at him. Clumsily, he dug around with his left hand, just managing to extricate the thing before it was too late.
He answered without looking at the caller ID, because he didn’t have time. Just his luck. It was Ginny.
He glanced at Crimson. Maybe something in his face alerted her to the problem. Or maybe she had just put two and two together from hearing his end of the conversation.
She raised her eyebrows and tapped her index finger against her collarbone. “Me,” she mouthed. She held her elbows out, cupped one hand behind the other and mimicked rocking a baby. “Me.”
He nodded. Yes. Oh, hell yes. He didn’t have to think twice.
“I’ve already got the help I need,” he said into the phone, though he kept his gaze on Crimson, who was smiling her approval. She was extraordinarily beautiful. Was that the painkillers talking?
Maybe it was just that, at the moment, she looked like his guardian angel.
I’m a talker. I don’t know if it’s my DNA or my upbringing, but I’ve always needed a special someone to confide in. When I’m upset or anxious, nothing calms me like a long heart-to-heart with a friend.
Sometimes exposing your honest, inner truths is frightening. Often, our first instinct is that the pain is too great, and no one can possibly help. But I’ve always felt there’s a high price to pay for locking your emotions inside.
Hundreds of years ago, a pretty smart guy agreed with me. In Macbeth, Shakespeare wrote a beautiful line in which a grieving man is told he should “give sorrow words,” because if he doesn’t, his heart may break.
In The Rancher’s Dream, both Grant and Crimson have broken hearts. It’s time for them to heal and move on, but they can’t. They’re too afraid to open up and be vulnerable again.
Love is said to heal all wounds...but what if you’re afraid of love itself? Though deep feelings are growing between them, caring has brought them so much pain already. Can they find the courage to take that risk again?
I hope you enjoy watching Grant and Crimson find the words to open their hearts. And may you always find an understanding ear when you are ready to open yours.
Warmly,
Kathleen O’Brien
PS—I love to hear from readers!
Please come see me at kathleenobrien.com, or stop by facebook.com/kathleenobrienauthor.
The Rancher’s Dream
Kathleen
O’Brien
KATHLEEN O’BRIEN was a feature writer and TV critic before marrying a fellow journalist. Motherhood, which followed soon after, was so marvelous she turned to writing novels, which meant she could work at home. Though she’s a lifelong city gal, she has a special place in her heart for tiny towns like Silverdell, where you may not enjoy a lot of privacy...but you never really face your troubles alone, either.
To Manning, Irene and Mike, who stand by me during my descents into the deadline pit and always keep a firm grip on the safety rope. You guys are, to put it mildly, the best.
And to Colorado, for its wildflower springs, its majestic winters and its endless inspiration as I wrote these six Bell River books.
Contents
Dear Reader
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
I’VE GOT TO get out of Silverdell.
The sentence kept running through Crimson Slayton’s head, clogging up her brain waves. She ought to be thinking of something clever to say to keep this foolish girl from getting an incredibly dumb tattoo.
But she couldn’t think of a thing. All she could think was...
I’ve got to get out of Silverdell...before I start to care about this kid, too.
She frowned, annoyed with herself, and repressed the urge to pick up one of her own homemade lavender Earl Grey tea cookies, which she kept on hand for her clients. The cookies were great for calming nerves.
Why should she need calming down? Why should she be in any danger of feeling emotional about this lovesick girl across the table from her in the tattoo parlor?
It was ridiculous. Becky Hampton was nothing to Crimson. The two had met twenty minutes ago...and if Crimson did her job, she’d say goodbye to