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Her Heart Never Left
It seems as if all of Ramblewood, Texas, is far too up-to-date on Tess Dalton’s love life, or rather, recent lack thereof. She thought the trip home would help heal her heart—instead it just put her face-to-face with the first man to crush it.
Cole Langtry is determined to fulfill his father’s dream of building an equine-assisted therapy facility on Bridle Dance Ranch. He doesn’t have time for distractions, especially of the heartbreaking brunette variety. What he and Tess once had should stay in the past.
But when one remarkable little girl finally brings Tess and Cole together, it’s hard to remember why they’re apart. They’ve never backed down from a challenge before, but facing their true feelings for each other might be the ultimate test.
“What’s your rush?”
Cole guided Tess toward the car. “We have a lot of talking to do.”
She inhaled his scent of sweat, dirt and horse. This is what home smells like. This was also what 100 percent man felt like. At that sudden realization, she pulled away from him.
He lifted her chin. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he challenged. “Have you forgotten what a real man is?”
Tess tried to squirm past Cole, and succeeded only in wedging herself more tightly against him. The length of his body pressed against her made Tess all too aware of the danger that lurked behind his mischievous grin. She’d wind up in a whole mess of trouble if she remained in this position much longer.
Cole ran his hands leisurely down her sides. Shock registered the moment Tess realized what he was about to do.
“Cole…please…don’t.”
Cole’s powerful fingers danced along her sides, tickling her.
“Okay, okay—you win!” she gasped, laughing. “We’ll talk, but later, all right?”
Tess looked up at Cole. She couldn’t remember when she’d last laughed. How did he always seem to know what she needed most?
Dear Reader,
Horses are one of my greatest passions in life. When I first heard about hippotherapy, I was astounded by the amount of mobility a person could gain by sitting astride this magnificent animal. Different than therapeutic riding, hippotherapy is a form of physical and occupational therapy that utilizes the movement of the horse to treat various conditions from arthritis to traumatic brain injuries. After I discovered how children afflicted with cerebral palsy greatly benefited from this specific type of therapy, Home to the Cowboy was born, and so was the sweetest little girl named Ever.
A very special thanks to Heather Hussong at Hope Cottage in Dallas, Texas, for enlightening me about all the beautiful children available for adoption, and to Kaye Marks at PATH International in Denver, Colorado, for opening my eyes to the wondrous benefits of hippotherapy.
To the therapists, foster families and adoptive parents who give so much of themselves to change the lives of our world’s children…simply put, you are amazing.
Home to the Cowboy is the sequel to Betting on Texas. Come back to Ramblewood and the Langtry family, where there’s never a dull moment on the Bridle Dance Ranch. Feel free to stop in and visit me at www.amandarenee.com. I’d love to hear from you.
Happy reading!
Amanda Renee
Home to the Cowboy
Amanda Renee
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born and raised in the northeast, Amanda Renee currently resides on the Intracoastal Waterway in sunny South Carolina. Her dreams came true when she was discovered through Harlequin’s So You Think You Can Write contest.
When not creating stories about love, laughter and things that go bump in the night, she enjoys the company of her schnoodle named Duffy, traveling, photography, playing guitar and anything involving horses. You can visit her at www.amandarenee.com.
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For Laura Marie Altom, my friend and mentor.
Thank you for being my voice of reason, and for the countless sanity checks.
And to Little Ricky—my faithful companion for thirteen years.
Contents
Chapter One
A loud caterwaul rose from the backseat of Tess Dalton’s rental car as she crossed over Cooter Creek.
“We’re almost there.” The tires thumped against the wooden boards of the old steel bridge, increasing her tabby’s anxiety. “Oh! What in heaven’s name is that smell?”
Ricky’s stink bomb was the cherry on her already bountiful sundae. At least she’d had the foresight to pack a disposal kitty-litter box. Tess traveled the country over with her beloved feline and, never fail, he did it every