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Wyatt Buckhorn is only a pal. If sharing scorching kisses that leave a woman feeble-brained means they're pals! But that's all the oilman-slash-rancher can be to Natalie Lewis. Five months pregnant and recently jilted, Natalie refuses to trust any man, least of all a man who is the definition of playboy.

Throw in that every run-in turns into a fiery encounter, and "just friends" gets complicated. Which is a shame, because Natalie's life is messy enough.

Besides, she knows Wyatt's secret—he's sterile, and so enforces a strict kid-free rule. But when circumstances have them caring for a whole clan of Buckhorn youngsters over the holidays, Natalie sees a side of Wyatt that's definitely kid-friendly. Weakening defenses, and even weaker knees, have Natalie determined to destroy Wyatt's anti-family policy…before he leaves town for good.

• Sales Rank: #2803097 in Books
• Published on: 2011-11-29
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.62" h x .59" w x 4.21" l,
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 224 pages

About the Author
Laura Marie Altom of Tulsa, Oklahoma is the best-selling, award-winning author of twenty-four books. Her works have made several appearances on both the Barnes and Noble and Waldenbooks’ Best-seller lists.  This mother of fifteen-year-old twins  has spoken on numerous occasions at both regional and national conferences, and teaches reading at a Tulsa middle school. She’s been married to her college sweetheart for nineteen years.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
If Natalie Lewis felt any more emotionally battered, she'd dissolve into a teary puddle right there in the middle of Georgina Buckhorn's garden. Pregnant. Abandoned. Surrounded by dozens of happy. October-sun-drenched guests whose very presence dictated she force a smile. Around these parts, the christening of Josie and Dallas Buckhorn's new baby was huge. But how was she supposed to get into a celebratory frame of mind when hours earlier Craig had shattered her world?

She'd loved him and had assumed they'd be married and raise a family together. But then, silly her, she'd only been waiting for that ring on her finger for three years. What was wrong with her that she'd ignored every sign that Craig avoided commitment the way some folks steered clear of root canals? From not wanting to even hold hands in public to bailing on too many important occasions to count. Craig made a habit of reminding her just how little she meant in the overall scheme of his life. He even refused to sleep over on the Friday nights they made love. Oh, he'd invented his own art form when it came to stringing her along. Promising to spend more time with her when his work slowed. Explaining he'd just bought a calendar to help remember their dates. Ha! Fat lot of good that'd had done when he'd left it in a junk drawer. And he worked for UPS! Did they ever slow down? God, she was such an idiot.

"I need a favor."

Natalie glanced up to see Wyatt Buckhorn standing before her in all his glory. "I'm busy."

"Could've fooled me." He pried her cookie-filled plate from her hands, setting it on the table alongside her wicker love seat.

"Hey." she protested. "If ever there was a girl in need of cookie-therapy, it's me."

He rolled his eyes. "Cry me a river. Craig's been an ass before, and I'm sure he will again. This is important." Drawing her to her feet, he tugged her against him—tightly enough together a playing card couldn't have been slid between them. Though Natalie and Wyatt had been pals since their first day in Weed Gulch Elementary's kindergarten class, she couldn't ever remember touching him—not like this. He was a Buckhorn, and had everything that came with the name. Criminally handsome, filthy rich, with enough charisma to charm a rattler into being a lap pet. That said, she'd always viewed him as someone to study from afar. He moved in vastly different circles than she did, which was fine. Back in high school he dated only cheerleaders and she'd had no wish to break her arm in a cheerleading pyramid, or, now that they'd grown, his usual date's stiletto heels.

"Yeah." she snatched a cookie from her plate. "so is my strict comfort-food regime."

Fingers around her wrist, he playfully growled before biting off a good three-quarters of her treat.

Before she'd worked up a protest speech, he finished it off.

"Back to business." he said upon swallowing. "In about thirty seconds. I'm going to kiss you. If you play along. I'll forever be in your debt." With a tip of his cowboy hat, he looked as matter-of-fact as if he'd asked directions to the nearest bar.

Natalie lurched back far enough for the pool deck's wrought-iron fence to bite into her lower vertebrae. "How much champagne punch have you had?"

"Promise." he said in his lazy cowboy drawl. "I'm stone-cold sober. Plus, this whole godparent thing makes us practically family, and besides my date you're the only single female under the age of eighty and over the age of seven. You're my only hope."

"No." she insisted. "I've had the worst twenty-four hours in world history and—"

Leaning into her personal space, his warm, sugar-laced breath acted like a brick thrown against her resolve. In the lifetime they'd been casual friends, she couldn't recall Wyatt having ever stood so close. Her pulse behaved badly, galloping over her common sense at an alarming speed.

Licking suddenly parched lips, she managed to mutter. "So, yeah, it's been a lousy day for me and I probably should just go home."

"Hell." He inched still closer. "That's what you want. I'll drive you. Just first help me with a kiss."

Where Natalie's words used to live now resided hitched breath and the kind of tingly awareness she shouldn't be feeling. But this was Wyatt Buckhorn standing before her, begging for a kiss. The scene didn't make sense—not in her carefully ordered world.

"So we're good?" Wyatt asked, hovering his lips above hers.

No! This assault against her senses was miles from good. But then, in true Buckhorn style, Wyatt claimed what he wanted, pressing his lips to hers. And then he wasn't just kissing her, but transporting her to another world. A place where she wasn't alone and trying to hide that she was five months pregnant, but shimmering with a slow, honeyed warmth spreading from her head to her toes. Wyatt's kiss was firm yet gentle. Sinful and wicked, but in a heavenly realm of good.

When she moaned, he stole the opportunity to sweep her tongue with his. The broad, leisurely stroke was too much, drowning her in powerful, sexy heat. Arms on autopilot, they twined about his neck, and she pressed her fingertips to the back of his head, urging him in for still more. When he finally released her, it was a struggle for Natalie to keep her rubbery knees from buckling.

"Damn…" To Natalie's credit. Wyatt looked a little dazed himself by the power of what they'd shared. Did that mean it hadn't all been her imagination? "Um, that went better than expected."

Breathing still shallow, Natalie managed a nod.

He glanced away, red-faced. "We good?"

"Ah, in what sense?" she asked, doing a quick check to make sure her clothes hadn't spontaneously combusted from her superheated limbs.

"You know, like we're still pals?"

Pals? She choked back a laugh. If this was how he kissed a woman he thought of as his pal, she couldn't fathom the carnal gifts he'd dole out to an actual lover. "Um, sure."

"Thanks." After landing a sucker punch to Natalie's right shoulder, he nodded toward his scowling date. "Pretty sure that did the trick."

"Everyone line up for more pictures!" Georgina Buckhorn, Wyatt's mother, was in her element. Parties were her thing, and the over-the-top angel-themed christening for Josie and Dallas's second daughter together, Esther, was no exception. A trio of harpists provided ethereal song to the gorgeous Indian-summer afternoon. Buffet tables dripping in vintage lace and pearls held outrageously opulent cakes, candies and tarts. Antique-pink roses perfumed the air. "Natalie and Wyatt, you two hold the baby alongside the fountain. Dallas, throw glitter at them so they sparkle."

"I'm not pitching glitter at my child." Dallas barked, handing Esther to his brother. As the eldest of the Buckhorn men, he was also the least playful. A fact that, at the moment, served Natalie well.

"Again." Wyatt whispered above the fountain's gurgle for only her to hear. "I appreciate you helping me out with that kiss. I've been hinting to Starla for days that I'm not the kind of guy who's in it for the long haul, but she refuses to listen. By helping me provide a few more visual clues, you made the perfect assist."

"Sure. No biggee." Liar, her conscience screamed. Part of her wanted to rail at him for including her in such a stupid stunt. Then there was the portion of Natalie still humming with awareness and craving more of whatever Wyatt cared to offer—and that girl wanted to thank him.

Georgina, camera in hand, directed. "I need a few with just the godparents. Natalie, you hold Esther. Wyatt, put your arm around Nat—and for heaven's sake, smile."

Unbearable didn't come close to describing the next five minutes. As much as Natalie had always viewed Wyatt as a fixture in her life, like a brother, she had to admit—if only to herself—he'd grown into one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen. Tall and lanky with spiky black hair and impenetrable brown eyes, he was the dark horse to his fair-haired brothers and sister. He'd been the epitome of Weed Gulch High cool. Star quarterback for football. Pitcher for baseball. He'd changed girlfriends as often as clothes. Wiley Wyatt, he'd been nicknamed for his refusal to commit.

"Nat," Josie Buckhorn called. "scoot closer to Wyatt. He's not going to bite." Natalie's best friend, a petite redhead with freckles and a perpetual smile ever since marrying Dallas, gestured for Natalie to sidle up to Wyatt.

"I might. Bite, that is." He aimed a wink toward his already miffed blonde date, which sent her stomping toward the open bar.

Natalie sighed. Wyatt's action was perfect. Just the sort of thing needed to plant her feet solidly back on the ground. Their kiss might've been scorching, but it was also make-believe. And from a guy apparently every bit as commitment-phobic as Craig.

"Just a few more," Georgina said, adjusting Esther's bonnet, "and we ought to have enough."

The baby started to fuss.

"You're done." Dallas growled at his mom and the high-priced Tulsa photographer. Taking the baby into his arms, he too headed for the bar.

Josie chased after him carrying their other daughter, Mabel.

Leaving Natalie on her own with her pal.

He cleared his throat, extending his hand for her to shake. "I really did appreciate your help. Sorry if our kiss got a little too, well…nice."

"Apology accepted." Nice wasn't the word she'd have chosen for the hot tingles still coursing through her body from his touch. Now she wholeheartedly understood why women flocked to him. S...

Most helpful customer reviews

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
Sweet romance
By Dissatisfied
I usually don't write reviews... But I was compelled to do so to temper impressions generated by the only other review. I thoroughly enjoyed this book. While I may have been at times frustrated by the limitations of the H/h ( his focus on his sterility, her lack of understanding that some people actually need distance from their families), I thought that, when it came own to it, they were a perfect fit. I actually liked both the characters, which is rarer than one would think.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Likable characters, but the story just lacks heart
By Hope This Helps
Stand alone read. 4th in The Buckhorn Ranch series.

EASY READ. Engaging family theme, believable, sometimes funny dialogue, good supporting cast, and a sweet storyline. HOWEVER, there is very little romance, the main characters are self-focused and the same-old, same-old gets to be annoying, the ending is a let-down, and the story just drags in places.

THE STORY follows childhood friends, school counselor, Natalie Lewis, and oil geologist, Wyatt Buckhorn. Natalie is dumb enough to believe that getting pregnant by her three-year steady boyfriend will force him to the alter and Wyatt recently found out he is sterile which makes him feel isolated and affects his playboy lifestyle.

As the book opens, Natalie has been dumped, is five-month pregnant and has no plan, and Wyatt's plan is to run away from his prolific, child-blessed siblings, to Ethiopia. While both are wallowing in life's misfortunes, a devastating accident puts Wyatt's brother and wife in critical care, and Natalie and Wyatt are left to care for all of his sibling's children together.

OVERALL, some poignant and funny moments, but mostly the story is repetitive, almost boring. My advice, there are a lot better books out there. (bpl)

THE BUCKHORN RANCH series includes The Bull Rider's Christmas Baby, The Rancher's Twin Troubles, A Cowgirl's Secret, and A baby in His Stocking.

You may also enjoy the complex characters and storytelling of N. Bruhns, A. Stuart, C. Ryan, or for sweet, funny, romances with and heart touching angst, try S. Fox, C. Colter, or E. Palfrey.
For good mystery/criminal detective writers you might try J. D. Robb, D. Stabenow, M. Ferris, S. Grafton, J. Evanovich, S. W. Albert, Gayle Wilson, Julie Miller or B.J Daniels.

2 of 3 people found the following review helpful.
Just say no...
By Ren5245
I don't have a nice thing to say about this book. Lets see... There is no love story it's basically about two people who baby sit a bunch of spoiled children then get together because she is pregnant and he can't have kids.

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@ Download Texas Rebels: Jude, by Linda Warren

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Rebel Dad 

The day his son was born, Jude Rebel knew he was meant to be a father. That was why he had to stop the adoption. How could he give away his own flesh and blood? For twelve years, Jude has kept his secret. Until Paige Wheeler comes home to Horseshoe, regretting the decision that changed both their lives forever.  

At eighteen, all Paige wanted was to escape her Texas town and troubled, hardscrabble life. Her ticket out cost her dearly. Now she has a chance to make things right. Finding out Jude has been raising their child is only the beginning. Is it too late for forgiveness? Or have they all been given a second chance?

• Sales Rank: #347136 in Books
• Published on: 2016-04-05
• Released on: 2016-04-05
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.52" h x .67" w x 4.25" l, .24 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 240 pages

About the Author

Linda Warren loves happy endings. The Rita® nominated author has written 26 books in the last ten years. Drawing upon her years of growing up on a ranch in Texas, she writes about sexy heroes, feisty heroines and broken families with an emotional punch. She lives in central Texas with her husband, and spends her days doing what she loves—creating unforgettable love stories—with happy endings.

Most helpful customer reviews

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
MORE REBEL INTRIGUE
By gerry 300
Another great story in the Texas Rebels series. The thread of strength and responsibility continues to weave through the Texas Rebels saga. Each son with his own story touches your heart yet keeps you breathless as the story unwinds and slowly you are feeling the same conflicts within each of these sons. The books are hard to put down until you know how the these conflicts are resolved and how each Rebel's heart is fulfilled with its true love.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Good book.
By Charlene Greenway
This was a good book in the series, I enjoyed it and will be buying the next one in the series, it's good that she is keeping the other characters from the past books and including all of them. I will be waiting for the next one in August.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Shy, Slow Moving, Romantic Cowboy
By cw
Linda Warren hooked me on her Texas Rebel series with Jude. Jude is a character you will fall for from the very first paragraph. I recommend it for a summer read or any other time for that matter. Be warned - you will be hooked.

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Sheriff Boone Taylor has his job, friends, a run-down but decent ranch, two faithful dogs and a good horse. He doesn't want romance—the widowed Montanan has loved and lost enough for a lifetime. But when a city woman buys the spread next door, Boone's peace and quiet are in serious jeopardy.

With a marriage and a career painfully behind her, Tara Kendall is determined to start over in Parable. Reinventing herself and living a girlhood dream is worth the hard work. Sure, she might need help from her handsome, wary neighbor. But life along Big Sky River is full of surprises…like falling for a cowboy-lawman who just might start to believe in second chances.

• Sales Rank: #291422 in Books
• Brand: Harlequin HQN
• Published on: 2012-12-18
• Released on: 2012-12-18
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.62" h x .97" w x 4.21" l, .35 pounds
• Binding: Paperback
• 362 pages

Features

• Great product!

Review
"Miller's name is synonymous with the finest in western romance." -RT Book Reviews

"Miller's down-home, easy-to-read style keeps the plot moving, and she includes . . . likable characters, picturesque descriptions, and some very sweet pets."-Publishers Weekly on Big Sky Country

"This is a delightful addition to Miller's Big Sky series. This author has a way with a phrase that is nigh-on poetic, and all of the snappy little interactions between the main and secondary characters make this story especially entertaining."--RT BookReviews on Big Sky Mountain

"A passionate love too long denied drives the action in this multifaceted, emotionally rich reunion story that overflows with breathtaking sexual chemistry."-Library Journal on McKettricks of Texas: Tate

About the Author

The daughter of a town marshal, Linda Lael Miller is the author of more than 100 historical and contemporary novels. Now living in Spokane, Washington, the “First Lady of the West” hit a career high when all three of her 2011 Creed Cowboy books debuted at #1 on the New York Times list. In 2007, the Romance Writers of America presented her their Lifetime Achievement Award. She personally funds her Linda Lael Miller Scholarships for Women. Visit her at www.lindalaelmiller.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


Sheriff Boone Taylor, enjoying a rare off-duty day, drew back his battered fishing rod and cast the fly-hook far out over the rushing, sun-spangled waters of Big Sky River. It ran the width of Parable County, Montana, that river, curving alongside the town of Parable itself like the crook of an elbow. Then it extended westward through the middle of the neighboring community of Three Trees and from there straight on to the Pacific.

He didn't just love this wild, sprawling country, he reflected with quiet contentment. He was Montana, from the wide sky arching overhead to the rocky ground under the well-worn soles of his boots. That scenery was, to his mind, his soul made visible.

A nibble at the hook, far out in the river, followed by a fierce breaking-away, told Boone he'd snagged—and already lost—a good-sized fish. He smiled—he'd have released the catch anyway, since there were plenty of trout in his cracker-box-sized freezer—and reeled in his line to make sure the hook was still there. He found that it wasn't, tied on a new one. For him, fishing was a form of meditation, a rare luxury in his busy life, a peaceful and quiet time that offered solace and soothed the many bruised and broken places inside him, while shoring up the strong ones.

He cast out his line again, and adjusted the brim of his baseball cap so it blocked some of the midmorning glare blazing in his eyes. He'd forgotten his sunglasses back at the house—if that junk heap of a double-wide trailer could be called a "house"—and he wasn't inclined to backtrack to fetch them.

So he squinted, and toughed it out. For Boone, toughing things out was a way of life.

When his cell phone jangled in the pocket of his lightweight cotton shirt, worn unbuttoned over an old T-shirt, he muttered under his breath, grappling for the device. He'd have preferred to ignore it and stay inaccessible for a little while longer. As sheriff, though, he didn't have that option. He was basically on call, 24/7, like it or not.

He checked the number, recognized it as Molly's, and frowned slightly as he pressed the answer bar. She and her husband, Bob, had been raising Boone's two young sons, Griffin and Fletcher, since the dark days following the death of their mother and Boone's wife. Corrie, a few years before. A call from his only sibling was usually benign—Molly kept him up-to-date on how the boys were doing—but there was always the possibility that the news was bad, that something had happened to one or both of them. Boone had reason to be paranoid, after all he'd been through, and when it came to his kids, he definitely was.

"Molly?" he barked into the receiver. "What's up?"

"Hello. Boone." Molly replied, and sure enough, there was a dampness to her response, as though she'd been crying, or was about to, anyhow. And she sounded bone weary, too. She sniffled and put him out of his misery, at least temporarily. "The boys are both fine," she said. "It's about Bob. He broke his right knee this morning—on the golf course, of all places—and the docs in Emergency say he'll need surgery right away. Maybe even a total replacement."

"Are you crying?" Boone asked, his tone verging on a challenge as he processed the flow of information she'd just let loose. He hated it when women cried, especially ones he happened to love, and couldn't help out in any real way.

"Yes," Molly answered, rallying a little. "I am. After the surgery comes rehab, and then more recovery—weeks and weeks of it."

Boone didn't even reel in his line; he just dropped the pole on the rocky bank of the river and watched with a certain detached interest as it began to bounce around, an indication that he'd gotten another bite. "Molly, I'm sorry," he murmured.

Bob was the love of Molly's life, the father of their three children, and a backup dad to Griff and Fletch, as well. Things were going to be rough for him and for the rest of the family, and there wasn't a damn thing Boone could do to make it better.

"Talk to me, Molly." he urged gruffly, when she didn't reply right away. He could envision her, struggling to put on a brave front, as clearly as if they'd been standing in the same room.

The pole was being pulled into the river by then; he stepped on it to keep it from going in and fumbled to cut the line with his pocketknife while Molly was still regathering her composure, keeping the phone pinned between his shoulder and his ear so his hands stayed free. Except for the boys and her and Bob's kids. Molly was all the blood kin Boone had left, and he owed her everything.

"It's—" Molly paused, drew a shaky breath "—it's just that the kids have summer jobs, and I'm going to have my hands full taking care of Bob…."

Belatedly, the implications sank in. Molly couldn't be expected to look after her husband and Griffin and Fletcher, too. She was telling her thickheaded brother, as gently as she could, that he had to step up now, and raise his own kids. The prospect filled him with a tangled combination of exuberance and pure terror.

Boone pulled himself together, silently acknowledged that the situation could have been a lot worse. Bob's injury was bad, no getting around it, but he could be fixed. He wasn't seriously ill, the way Corrie had been.

Visions of his late wife, wasted and fragile after a long and doomed battle with breast cancer, unfurled in his mind like scenes from a very sad movie.

"Okay." he managed to say. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Are you at home, or at the hospital?"

"Hospital," Molly answered, almost in a whisper. "I'll probably be back at the house before you get here, though."

Boone nodded in response, then spoke. "Hang on, sis," he said. "I'm as good as on my way."

"Griffin and Fletcher don't know yet," she told him quickly. "About what's happened to Bob, I mean, or that you'll be coming to take them back to Parable with you. They're with the neighbor, Mrs. Mills. I want to be there when they find out, Boone."

Translation: If you get to the boys before I do, don't say anything about what's going on. You'll probably bungle it.

"Good idea," Boone conceded, smiling a little. Molly was still the same bossy big sister she'd always been—thank God.

Molly sucked in another breath, sounded calmer when she went on, though she had to be truly shaken up. "I know this is all pretty sudden—"

"I'll deal with it," Boone said, picking up the fishing pole, reeling in the severed line and starting toward his truck, a rusted-out beater parked up the bank a ways, alongside a dirt road. He knew he ought to replace the rig, but most of the time he drove a squad car, and, besides, he hated the idea of going into debt.

"See you soon," Molly said, and Boone knew even without seeing her that she was tearing up again.

Boone was breathless from the steep climb by the time he reached the road and his truck, even though he was in good physical shape. His palm sweated where he gripped the cell phone, and he tossed the fishing pole into the back of the pickup with the other hand. It clattered against the corrugated metal. "Soon," he confirmed.

They said their goodbyes, and the call ended.

By then, reality was connecting the dots to form an image in his brain, one of spending a whole summer, if not longer, with two little boys who basically regarded him as an acquaintance rather than a father. And it was a natural reaction on their part; he'd essentially abdicated his parental role after Corrie had died, packing off the kids—small and baffled—to Missoula to stay with Molly and Bob and their older cousins. In the beginning, Boone had meant for the arrangement to be temporary—all of them had—but one thing led to another, and pretty soon, the distance between him and the children became emotional as well as physical. While his closest friends had been needling him to man up and bring Griffin and Fletcher home practically since the day after Corrie's funeral, and he missed those boys with an ache that resembled the insistent, pulsing throb of a bad tooth, he'd always told himself he needed just a little more time. Just until after the election, and then until he'd gotten into the swing of a new job, since being sheriff was a lot more demanding than being a deputy, like before, then until he could replace the double-wide with a decent house. Until, until, until.

Now, it was put up or shut up. Molly would need all her personal resources, physical, spiritual and emotional, to steer Bob and her own children through the weeks ahead.

He sat there in the truck for a few moments, with the engine running and the phone still in his hand, picturing the long and winding highway between Parable and Missoula, and finally speed-dialed his best friend, Hutch Carmody.

"Yo, Sheriff Taylor," Hutch greeted him cheerfully. "What can I do you out of?"

Married to his longtime love, the former Kendra Shepherd, with a five-year-old stepdaughter, Madison, and a new baby due to join the outfit in a month or so, Hutch seemed to be in a nonstop good mood these days.

It was probably the regular sex, Boone figured, too distracted to be envious but still subliminally aware that he'd been living like a monk since Corrie had died. "I need to borrow a rig," he said straight out. "I've got to get to Missoula quick, and this old pile of scrap metal might not make it there and back."

Hutch got serious, right here, right now. "Sure," he said. "What's going on? Are the kids okay?"

Though they'd only visited Parable a few times since they'd gone to live with Molly and Bob, Griffin and Fletcher looked up to Hutch, probably wished he was their dad, instead of Boone. "The boys are fine," Boone answered. "But Molly just called, and she says Bob blew a knee on the golf course and he's about to have surgery. Obviously, she's got all she can do to look after her own crew right now, so I'm on my way up there to bring the kids home with me."

Hutch swore in a mild exclamation of sympathy for the world of hurt he figured Bob was in, and then said, "I'm sorry to hear that—about Bob, I mean. Want me to come along, ride shotgun and maybe provide a little moral support?"

"I appreciate the offer, Hutch," Boone replied, sincerely grateful for the man's no-nonsense, unshakable friendship. "But I think I need some alone-time with the kids, so I can try to explain what's happening on the drive back from Missoula."

Griffin was seven years old and Fletcher was only five. Boone could "explain" until he was blue in the face, but they weren't going to understand why they were suddenly being jerked out of the only home and the only family they really knew. Griffin, being a little older, remembered his mother vaguely, remembered when the four of them had been a unit. The younger boy, Fletcher, had no memories of Corrie, though, and certainly didn't regard Boone as his dad. It was Bob who'd raised him and his brother, taken them to T-ball games, to the dentist, to Sunday school.

"Not a problem," Hutch agreed readily. "The truck is gassed up and ready to roll. Do you want me to drop it off at your place? One of the hands could follow me over in another rig and—"

"I'll stop by the ranch and pick it up instead," Boone broke in, not wanting to put his friend to any more trouble than he already had. "See you in about fifteen minutes."

"Okay," Hutch responded, sighing the word, and the call was over.

Boone stayed a hair under the speed limit, though just barely, the whole way to the Carmody ranch, called Whisper Creek, where he found Hutch waiting beside the fancy extended-cab truck he'd purchased the year before, when he and Kendra were falling in love for the second time. Or maybe just realizing that they'd never actually fallen out of it in the first place.

Now, Hutch was hatless, with his head tilted a little to one side the way he did when he was pondering some enigma, and his hands were wedged backward into the hip pockets of his worn jeans. Kendra, a breath-takingly beautiful blonde, stood beside him, pregnant into the next county.

"Have you had anything to eat?" Kendra called to Boone, the instant he'd stopped his pickup. Dust roiled around her from under the truck's wheels, but she was a rancher's wife now, and unfazed by the small stuff.

Boone got out of the truck and walked toward them. He kissed Kendra's cheek and tried to smile, though he couldn't quite bring it off. "What is it with women and food?" he asked. "A man could be lying flat as a squashed penny on the railroad track, and some female would come along first thing, wanting to feed him something."

Hutch chuckled at that, but the quiet concern in his gaze made Boone's throat pull tight like the top of an old-time tobacco sack. "It's a long stretch to Missoula," Hutch observed, quietly affable. "You might get hungry along the way."

"I'll make sandwiches," Kendra said, and turned to duck-waddle toward the ranch house. Compared with Boone's double-wide, the place looked like a palace, with its clapboard siding and shining windows, and for the first time in his life, Boone wished he had a fine house like that to bring his children home to.

"Don't—" Boone protested, but it was too late. Kendra was already opening the screen door, stepping into the kitchen beyond.

"Let her build you a lunch, Boone," Hutch urged, his voice as quiet as his manner. Since the wedding, he'd been downright Zen-like. "She'll be quick about it, and she wants to help whatever way she can. We all do."

Boone nodded, cleared his throat, looked away. Hutch's dog, a black mutt named Leviticus, trotted over to nose Boone's hand, his way of saying howdy. Ken-dra's golden retriever, Daisy, was there, too, watchful and wagging her tail.

Boone ruffled both dogs' ears, straightened, looked Hutch in the eye again. Neither of them spoke, but it didn't matter, because they'd been friends for so long that words weren't always necessary.

Boone was worried about bringing the boys back to his place for anything longer than a holiday weekend, and Hutch knew that. He clearly cared and sympathized, but at the same time, he was pleased. There was no need to give voice to the obvious.

Kendra returned almost right away, moving pretty quickly for somebody who could be accused of smuggling pumpkins. She carried a bulging brown paper bag in one hand, holding it out to Boone when she got close enough. "Turkey on rye," she said. "With pickles. I threw in a couple of hard-boiled eggs and an apple, too."

He took the bag, muttered his thanks, climbed into Hutch's truck and reached through the open window to hand over the keys to the rust-bucket he'd driven up in. Some swap that was, he thought ruefully. His old buddy was definitely getting the shitty end of this stick.

"Give Molly and Bob our best!" Kendra called after him, as Boone started up the engine and shifted into Reverse. "If there's anything we can do—"

Boone cut her off with a nod, raised a hand in farewell and drove away.

After a brief stop in Parable, to get some cash from an ATM, he'd keep the pedal to the metal all the way to Missoula. Once there, he and Molly would explain things, together.

God only knew how his sons would take the news—they were always tentative and quiet on visits to Parable, like exiles to a strange new planet, and visibly relieved when it was time to go back to the city.

One thing at a time, Boone reminded himself.

Most helpful customer reviews

30 of 30 people found the following review helpful.
Big Sky River, A Review for The Blog Tea and Book
By Shauni
n Linda Lael Miller's third book of her Big Sky Series we see again just why it is that she is considered one of the absolute best at the western romances. Sending us back to Parable Montana and the lives and loves of it's citizens.

Sheriff Boone Miller, all around smexy man with a wounded soul. Boone has spent the past few years grieving for his deceased wife. Letting his sister care for his small sons and doing everything he can to just get by. While he has friends who support him and a community that believes in him, he remains in an eternal funk. Until the sexy chicken rancher (yes it really is a chicken ranch) next door starts to change his life.

After a painful divorce that left her devastated Tara Kendall, leaves New York and purchases a ranch in Parable MT.. A chic chicken rancher to be sure. Bruised and Battered from the endless idiocies of her ex and grieving herself because she had no choice but to give up her step-daughters that she had all but raised from toddlership.. she has found her place, some wonderful friends and a great life.. well except for that redneck Sheriff Boone who lives just across the river in the eyesore of a trailer..

When Boone's brother in law suffers and accident and his sister can no longer care for the boys.. and Tara's megomaniac ex husband decides to ship his daughters off to Tara for the summer, life gets really interesting. Boone and Tara find that they have more in common than they think. And one day magic happens..

This was not a earthshattering, heartpounding, bodice ripping romance.. not thunderstorms.. rather a gentle rain that soaks into the reader leaving them smiling and wanting more. Boone and Tara are endearing, they are human and they make human mistakes.. as well as enjoy human triumphs. The demons they must face are those so many of us do, a rat bastard ex husband, the loss of true love.. they persevere in the face of life's adversities.. until one day they discover that they have come through triumphant!

What was rather interesting to me was that in this book Ms Miller, didn't spend a lot of time in Parable.. Oh sure we see a few of our favorite characters as they pertain to the story but the community as a whole takes a huge step backward in this book. Which was wonderful because it makes Tara and Boone's story that much more poignant..

I enjoyed this book immensely and I most definitely recommend it.. of course it made me dream just a bit.. I mean who doesn't want a brooding, sexy cowboy to come into their lives?

Shauni

This review is based on the ARC of Big Sky River provided by netgalley

20 of 20 people found the following review helpful.
Boone and Tara's story delivers in a lovely way
By Jonetta (Ejaygirl)
Boone Taylor, the sheriff of Parable County, is still mourning his wife who died a few years ago and still hasn't brought his two young boys home. Even though he's moved on with his life, he's still stuck in time with his property in decay and his sons still living with his sisters in another town. Meanwhile, his prickly neighbor, Tara Kendall who has been very critical of how he's not maintained his property, is reinventing herself after moving to Parable from New York. Her painful marriage behind her, she's making the best of her new life in spite of her stubborn but handsome neighbor.

This series just gets better with each book. I knew Boone's book would be more complicated given his personal circumstances and my instincts were on target. His friends had gently urged him in the past to bring his sons back home but he was reluctant to disrupt their lives. It took a crisis in his sister's life to get him to take action. Boone's initial struggles were so realistic, facing those issues most single parents encounter with the added complication of them not really knowing him that well and the shock of a different standard of living.

When Tara's twin stepdaughters, who she raised from toddlers and adores, come to visit, it gives her and Boone opportunities to see each other differently. Their romance was heartwarming as it developed around their families and friends. I'm a sucker for kids in these stories as they tend to bring out the best in the adults as it did here. Friends from the previous books in the series also play a role and we get nice updates on their lives. The only criticism I have is that the ending felt a little rushed, satisfying, but culminating a bit faster than I thought it should have.

Boone and Tara's story took its time to develop with the layers of their lives, past and present, unfolding richly. I loved their story and it's my favorite of the series to date. I'm looking forward to the next book as it will be about Casey Elder and she's got some secrets yet to be revealed.

(I received an ARC from NetGalley)

10 of 10 people found the following review helpful.
Such a great read!
By Sue P
I was entranced with this true love story!!! We've seen parts of Boone in the previous books, I was so glad to read his and Tara's story now. I loved seeing their relationship develop, they are two people ready for each other...mature, none of the silliness of some romance stories, they were true to themselves and didn't hide who they were. Althoug I was sad to reach the end of the book, it left me feeling so fulfilled! I highly recommend this. Can't wait for the next one!

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Jill Strathern left town for the big city and never looked back—until she returned home years later to run a small law practice. It turns out her childhood crush, Mac Kendrick, a burned-out LAPD cop, has also come back to sleepy Los Lobos. Even though Mac rejected her back in high school, Jill can't deny the attraction she still feels for him.

Now Jill and Mac are tangled in enough drama to satisfy the most jaded L.A. denizens—Mafia dons, social workers, angry exes and one very quirky eight-year-old make even the simplest romance complicated. And it all goes to prove that when it comes to affairs of the heart, there's no place like home. An unlikely pair…but a perfect match.

• Sales Rank: #431977 in Books
• Brand: HQN Books
• Published on: 2010-10-26
• Released on: 2010-10-26
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.62" h x .99" w x 4.21" l, .40 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 384 pages

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• Great product!

Review
"Reading a Susan Mallery book is always a marvelous experience."

About the Author

New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery has entertained millions of readers with her witty and emotional stories about women. Publishers Weekly calls Susan’s prose “luscious and provocative,” and Booklist says “Novels don’t get much better than Mallery’s expert blend of emotional nuance, humor and superb storytelling.” Susan lives in Seattle with her husband and her tiny but intrepid toy poodle. Visit her at www.SusanMallery.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


"I look like a freak," Shelley said as she plopped down in the chair and covered her face with her hands. "I'll have to move under the cover of darkness so I don't frighten small children."

Jill Strathern sat down next to her assistant and patted her back. "You're not a freak."

"You're right." Shelley raised her head and sniffed. "Being a freak would be an improvement." She gave a strangled sob.

"This is all fixable," Jill reminded her. "You're not scarred for life."

"My psyche is."

"I think you'll recover."

In fact, Jill was sure of it. Shelley had left work the previous evening excited about her appointment at a new and trendy salon. She'd gone in expecting some subtle highlights and a few layers. She'd left with a botched body perm, orange brassy color and a cut that could only be described as…unfortunate.

"You know what? I have a great idea." Jill stood and walked around her desk where she flipped through her electronic Rolodex. "I know exactly who can fix this for you."

Shelley looked up. "Who?"

"Anton."

Shelley sucked in a breath and for the first time that morning, hope filled her swollen eyes. "Anton? You know him?"

Anton, like Madonna, was famous enough not to need a last name. Two-tone highlights and a styling cost as much as a small imported car, but the rich and famous swore by his magic fingers.

"I'm his lawyer," Jill said with a grin. "Now let me call him and explain we have a hair emergency. I'm sure he can take care of everything."

Fifteen minutes later, Shelley had an appointment for early that afternoon. Jill promised to let her make up the time by coming in early for the next couple of days.

"You're the best," Shelley said as she walked to the door and stepped out into the hallway. "If you ever need me to do anything, let me know. I'm serious. A kidney. Have your baby, whatever."

"Maybe you could look over the brief I left on your desk," Jill told her with a laugh. "It's due first thing in the morning."

"Absolutely. Right this second. Thanks."

Jill chuckled as she turned back to her computer. If only all of life's problems could be solved so easily.

Two hours later, she looked up from her research. Coffee, she decided. A nice, little jump start to keep her brain going. She stood and headed for the centrally located lunchroom where jumbo carafes full of liquid energy waited.

On her way back, she detoured around to the other Willie. In fact, nothing to side of the offices where her husband, also a third-year associate, had his office. They'd been working so many hours the past few weeks, they'd barely seen each other. Her calendar was free. If Lyle's was, too, maybe they could grab lunch together.

His assistant was gone and his door closed. Jill knocked lightly once, then pushed inside. She moved quietly, not wanting to interrupt if he was on the phone.

He was busy, all right, but not with a call. Jill stopped in the center of the room. Breath left her body as the mug of coffee fell to the carpeted floor. She didn't remember letting go, but she felt the hot liquid splash onto her legs.

Her husband of three years, the man she lived with, worked with and cooked for, stood beside his credenza. His jacket was over his chair, his pants around his ankles and he was busily banging his assistant. So busy, in fact, he hadn't noticed Jill's entrance.

"Oh, yeah, baby," Lyle breathed. "Just like that."

But the woman saw Jill. Her face paled and she shoved Lyle away.

Later Jill would remember the silence and how time seemed to slow. Later she would recall the way papers had fluttered to the floor as his assistant scrambled off the credenza and jerked up her panty hose. Later she would want to kill Lyle. But right now she could only stare in disbelief.

This wasn't happening, she told herself. He was her husband. He was supposed to love her.

"Next time you should knock," he said as he bent over and grabbed his pants.

She had, she thought, too stunned to feel much of anything. Then she turned on her heel and ran from the room.

Forty-nine hours and eighteen minutes later, Jill decided that being buried alive was too good for Lyle. Still, she was due some serious revenge. Unfortunately, as she had no idea on how to get the revenge she so desperately needed, she contented herself with imagining him lying on the edge of a desert highway, gasping for breath as she zoomed by at a comfortable ninety miles an hour. She liked the vision of her soon-to-be ex-husband as roadkill.

"Lying weasel rat-fink dog," she muttered as she slowed at the bottom of the freeway off-ramp and turned west.

The lying weasel rat-fink dog was currently back in San Francisco, moving into what should have been her junior partner office with a window. No doubt he would celebrate what should have been her promotion by taking out his assistant, then seducing her with wine from the collection she'd put together, and carrying her off to what had been their bed.

Yes, it was true. Jill's day had gone from bad to worse. It wasn't enough to catch her husband in the act; later that afternoon she'd been fired.

"I hope Lyle gets a sexually transmitted disease and Big Willie falls off," she said aloud, before correcting herself. "Not exactly 'Big' Willie. In fact, nothing to be proud of. I had to fake most of those orgasms, you rat bastard lying weasel dog."

Worse, she'd cooked for him. Jill could accept a bad sex life, but to think she'd ducked out of important meetings so that Lyle could come home to meals she'd prepared really made her teeth ache.

She wanted to roll down the windows and scream into the sea-soaked air that she hated her husband and couldn't wait until their divorce was final. She wished she'd never met him, had never fallen for him and had never married him. But there was no point in frightening the seagulls on the sidewalk and the two old guys playing checkers in the park.

The only bright spot in an otherwise completely black situation was that Shelley's hair had turned out movie-star gorgeous. Something to hang on to, Jill thought as she pulled to a stop at a red light and looked around for the first time since leaving San Francisco. Really looked.

Jeez, she was back in the one place she never wanted to be. Obviously her string of bad luck had continued, she thought, as she realized she was the only person on the planet who really could go home again.

Los Lobos, California—a small, touristy coastal town where folks vacationed every year. You could get homemade ice cream at the local Treats 'n Eats, homemade pie at Polly's Pie Parlor, and the best fajitas in the state at Bill's Mexican Grill. Residents never locked their doors, except during tourist season. The pier was a national treasure and the Halloween Pumpkin festival on the beach was one of the biggest events of the year. For some it was paradise; for Jill, it was like being sentenced to serve time in hell. It was also something else Lyle was going to have to answer for.

At least the family home had been turned over to the Conservancy Society, so she was saved the humiliation of having to live in her old bedroom. The house where she'd grown up was in the process of being restored to its original Victorian prissiness, and so she was temporarily moving in with her aunt Beverly.

The thought of the older woman's gentle smile and potpourri-filled house pushed Jill's foot down on the accelerator. She drove through the center of town—such as it was—and came out on the south side. After making a series of turns, she pulled up in front of a two-story house built in the 1940s. The wide porch had an overhang supported by stone-covered pillars. Several worn pieces of rattan furniture filled the space and offered a place to sit and watch the world go by. Jill found herself in more of a "curl up and lick her wounds" kind of mind-set, but that would pass, and when it did she would appreciate the old rocking chair by the swing.

She parked in front of the house and climbed out. Aunt Bev must have been watching from the big bay window because she stepped out of the house and started down the stairs.

Beverly Antoinette Cooper, known as Bev to her friends, had been born into money. Not gobs and gobs but enough that she'd never had to hold a job, even though she'd spent a couple of years as a schoolteacher

when she'd first graduated from college. Petite, with fiery red hair and a big smile, she'd been the younger of the two children in her family. She'd moved to Los Lobos when her sister had married Jill's father and had decided to stay.

Jill had never been more grateful for the family connection. Her aunt wasn't one to judge or criticize. Mostly she offered hugs, affection and occasionally odd advice. Bev considered herself gifted—psychically—although the jury was still out on that one. Feeling better than she had since walking in on Lyle and his assistant going at it on his credenza, Jill walked around to the sidewalk, where she stopped and smiled.

"I'm here."

Her aunt grinned. "Nice wheels." Jill glanced at the gleaming black BMW 545. "It's transportation," she said with a shrug. "Uh-huh. Lyle's?"

"California is a community-property state," Jill said primly. "As he acquired the asset after our marriage, it's as much my car as his."

"You took it because you knew it would piss him off."

"Pretty much."

"That's my girl." Her aunt glanced at Jill's shirt and raised her eyebrows. "Takeout?"

Jill looked at the stain on the front of the hundred-percent Egyptian cotton custom-made shirt she'd shrugged on over her jeans. The sleeves hung well past her fingers and she could have fit inside the garment two and a half times, but this was Lyle's special shirt that he'd ordered from Hong Kong at the tidy price of five hundred dollars. He'd owned four. The other three were tucked inside her suitcase.

"Burrito," she said as she rubbed at the brownish-red smudge just under her right breast. "Maybe some hot sauce. I stopped at Taco Bell on the way down."

"Tell me you ate in the car," Bev said impishly. "Lyle always did have a thing against eating in the car."

"Every bite," Jill told her.

"Good."

Bev held out her arms. Jill hesitated only a second, then flung herself into the smaller woman's warm embrace. She'd been holding it together for two days, only allowing herself to deal with the logistics of packing up her world. All her emotions had been stuffed down until it was safe to let them go. That moment turned out to be right now.

Her face heated, her chest tightened and a shudder raced through her.

"I saw him doing it with her," she whispered, her voice thick with pain and the tears she tried to hold back. "At the office. It was so disgusting. He didn't even take his clothes off—his pants were hanging around his ankles and he looked ridiculous. Why wouldn't she make him get naked?"

"Some women don't have any self-respect."

Jill nodded. "At least I always made him get naked."

"I know you did."

"But that wasn't what hurt the most," she continued, her eyes burning. "He stole my promotion. I'd been working so damn hard and I brought in all that business and he got my promotion and I got fired."

The tears broke free. She tried to hold them in, but it was too late. They scorched her skin and dripped onto her aunt's shoulder.

"And what I really d-don't understand is why I'm more mad than hurt," she said, her voice cracking. "Why do I care more about my job than my marriage?"

Jill asked the question rhetorically. She had a feeling they both already knew the answer.

"Want to scratch his car?" her aunt asked.

Jill straightened and wiped her face with the back of her hand. "Maybe later."

"I made cookies. Let's go have some."

"I'd like that."

Bev took her hand and led her toward the house. "I've been doing some research. I think I might be able to put a curse on Lyle. Would that help?"

With each step, Jill felt her pain easing just a little. Maybe Los Lobos wasn't her idea of a good time, but her aunt's house had always been a haven.

"A curse would be good. Could we give him boils with pus?"

"We could sure try."

Two hours later Jill and her aunt had split nearly a dozen double-chocolate-chip cookies and had knocked back several brandies.

"I don't want to do anything malicious," Jill said, pretty darned proud she could say malicious, what with the way the liquor had heated her blood and turned her brain to foggy mush. "So instead of outright scratching the Beamer, maybe I'll just park it by the high-school baseball diamond. All those foul balls could make a real impact on it." She giggled. "Get it? Impact? The two meanings of the word?"

Her aunt sighed. "You're drunk."

"You betcha. And I feel pretty good, if I do say so myself. I didn't think I would. I thought I'd be depressed for days. I mean practicing law here." She grimaced and felt her good mood slipping away. "Okay—that goes on the do-not-think-about list. Not my new practice here, although I use the term loosely. At least that's just until I get a real job. Not Lyle. The divorce is good, though. I really want that. I want our marriage to never have been." She reached for another cookie. "Could we vaporize him? Would that technically be murder?" She sighed. "Never mind. I know it would be. I don't want to be disbarred. That would be too depressing for words."

Cookie crumbs fell on her shirt right next to the damp spot where she'd sloshed her brandy. She brushed at the crumbs only to smear chocolate on the shirt.

"I need to go clean up," she said, and put down the half-eaten cookie. "I didn't shower before I left San Francisco this morning."

As she spoke, she reached behind her head to grab her mass of curly, frizzy hair. While she'd showered the previous morning, she hadn't bothered with her usual blow-dry, flatiron, forty-seven-hair-care-product regimen required to tame her impossible hair.

Most helpful customer reviews

25 of 25 people found the following review helpful.
Great story filled with quirky characters
By Tracy Vest
After catching her sleazy husband Lyle in his office literally with his pants down, Jill is summarily fired from her law firm. Ever resourceful, she returns to her hometown of Los Lobos, where she takes over an eclectic law practice until she can find the perfect corporate gig. MacKenzie Kendrick has returned to Los Lobos also. The object of Jill's teenage crush, he returned to bring a little stability to his life after years of undercover work have left him on the edge and ever further from his daughter. In order to share future custody of Emily with his ex, he has to keep his nose clean as the new sheriff of Los Lobos. A hard proposition for the former bad boy turned lawman, whose biggest feat will be breaking down the barrier his daughter has established between them. Jill's last memory of Mac is her 18th birthday, where she waited in his bedroom and bared all with the intention of seducing him. He promptly threw up. The next time she was ready to bare all for a guy, Evan took one look at her and pronounced he was gay. Since Lyle did not throw up or have a sudden lifestyle change, she married him.

Mallery's writing is crisp and funny, the romance spicy, and her characters memorable. Add assorted quirky citizens including a tarot card reading aunt, mobsters, a secretary who doesn't want to put in a full day's work, and a cranky old man who wants to sue his neighbor over a fence built a century ago, and you have a riveting story about small town life that only Mallery could come up with. I cannot get enough of her books!

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Five Stars
By Mary17
Kept me reading and wanting more!

13 of 14 people found the following review helpful.
Another winner from Susan Mallery
By booknut
Susan Mallery's books are like fine chocolate or good wine, they're meant to be savored. I love that she doesn't rely on shock value to grab her readers. Someone Like You is not about who can blow up the most stuff or who does the most explicit/kinky sex scene. The characters, Jill and Mac, are people I could relate to, people I can picture living in my town.

I love Jill's and Mac's shared history, and the way they slowly fall in love. This is such a warm, wonderful book, a true love story that also deals with a lot of issues that readers can relate to like divorce, bumps in one's career, family.

I was so worried for Mac's little daughter, Emily, who is scarred from the past. I had tears in my eyes reading about her thoughts and doubts. But the book made me laugh, too, especially the sparkling dialogue between the two main characters.

By the time I was done with the book, I felt like I knew the town of Los Lobos and made friends with some of its citizens. An entertaining and delightful read.

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^^ Ebook Download White Christmas: Woman Hater\The Humbug Man, by Diana Palmer

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Master storyteller DIANA PALMER delights readers with timeless romances featuring unforgettable heroes. Cozy up to the fireplace with these two tales of love set during the merriest time of the year…

WOMAN HATER—Everyone in Nicole White's office described their boss's mysterious older brother as a real woman hater. So when Nicki had to tag along with her ailing employer to his brother's Montana home, she was prepared for the worst.

To her surprise, what she found was a man more roughly masculine than any she'd ever met. But Winthrop Christopher's distrust of women ran straight to the bone. Nicki knew she should steer clear of him, but she couldn't hide the feelings he stirred in her. Could she ever teach him to love again?

THE HUMBUG MAN—Montana rancher Tate Hollister was the grouchiest widower Maggie Jeffries had ever met. But, as the holiday season progressed, Maggie discovered that Tate wasn't completely immune to the Christmas spirit. In fact, his loving embrace might just be the gift of a lifetime….

• Sales Rank: #1120494 in Books
• Brand: Brand: Harlequin HQN
• Published on: 2013-09-24
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 7.33" h x 1.26" w x 5.49" l, .83 pounds
• Binding: Hardcover
• 368 pages

Features

• Used Book in Good Condition

Review
"Palmer demonstrates, yet again, why she's the queen of
desparado quests for justice and true love." -Publishers Weekly on Dangerous

"The popular Palmer has penned another winning novel, a perfect bend of romance and suspense." -Booklist on Lawman

"Palmer knows how to make the sparks fly...heartwarming." --Publishers Weekly on Renegade

"Sensual and suspenseful." --Booklist on Lawless

"Diana Palmer is a mesmerizing storyteller who captures the essence of what a romance should be." -Affaire de Coeur

About the Author
The prolific author of more than one hundred books, Diana Palmer got her start as a newspaper reporter. A New York Times bestselling author and voted one of the top ten romance writers in America, she has a gift for telling the most sensual tales with charm and humor. Diana lives with her family in Cornelia, Georgia.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
When Gerald Christopher first suggested going to his family ranch in Montana to rest his recently diagnosed ulcer for a few weeks, Nicole had instant reservations. He was the boss, of course, and if he wanted to go to Montana, there was no reason he shouldn't. But Nicole liked the pleasant routine of life in Chicago, where she'd spent the last two years working for the Christopher Corporation. At twenty-two, Nicole White had found a nice, pleasant rut for herself and she didn't particularly like change.

The problem was that if Mr. Christopher went to Montana for a month, as he was threatening, and closed down his personal office while he was gone, Nicole would be out of a job until his return. Despite her adequate wages, trying to live for a month without any salary was a frightening thought. That was almost laughable considering her background, because Nicole's family had been one of the old moneyed ones of Kentucky. Her father, in fact, was still one of the jet set, a noted sportsman as well as a horse-racing magnate, and lived the part. Nicole had long since renounced her share of the family fortune and gone to work for a living.

Her mother's death had been the last straw. Her father had been with his latest mistress at the time, not that he'd ever been home a lot. That hadn't mattered at the time, because Nicole had been sure that her new fiance, Chase James, would set up their marriage and that his job as a real estate agent would make it possible for him to support the two of them. She'd figured wrong. Once Chase found out that Nicole had been foolish enough to give up her family fortune—and when he realized that she couldn't possibly be talked out of it—he asked for his ring back. His immediate defection to one of Nicole's moneyed and eligible girlfriends had shattered her young life.

At the age of twenty, she'd left the elegant brick mansion of her childhood in Lexington, Kentucky, and a racehorse farm worth millions, to live the frugal life as a secretary in Chicago, where she had a friend with whom she could room. She smiled, remembering her lack of skills at the time, and how patient Mr. Christopher had been until she'd crammed in some courses at the local secretarial school. Lucky for her that he'd liked her personality and had decided to take a chance on her secretarial skills improving. They had. She'd graduated from the course at the top of her class.

It all seemed a long time ago now, a part of her life that was like some slowly fading photograph of a reality she no longer belonged to….

"You'll like it there, Nicky," Gerald Christopher said dreamily, staring out the window. "The ranch is in the southern part of the state, nestled in the Rocky Mountains. It's rich with forests, lakes, rivers, peace and quiet. Just the thing to help me get over this ulcer they've diagnosed. We can work in peace and you can have plenty of free time to yourself."

"But your brother and his family—won't they mind having your secretary to house and feed?" she asked, her pale green eyes hesitant in a plain but interesting oval face, surrounded by naturally curling short dark hair. Despite the fact that she'd worked for him for two years, she knew very little about his private life. He'd never made a habit of talking casually about anything personal, as some employers did. She knew he had a brother, and he'd mentioned a woman named Mary, whom she'd assumed was his sister-in-law. But that was really all she knew about him in any personal way.

"Winthrop doesn't have a family," he said, smiling as he turned toward her. He was tall with brown hair and dark brown eyes. Not a bad-looking man and he seemed pleasant enough, but he wasn't a woman chaser or a ladies' man. He was very businesslike and a terrific boss, and Nicky adored him. In a purely businesslike way, of course. Her heart was pretty impregnable these days, hardened by Chase's cruel defection. That had ended her dreams of marriage. The hated wealth that had blinded her to men's greed was gone now, too. And without her designer clothing and her diamonds, men didn't seem to notice her at all. Of course, her manner was stiff and off-putting with most men, but she didn't even realize it.

"Your brother came to the office once, didn't he?" she ventured, recalling vaguely a tall, very cold sort of man she'd barely glimpsed on an unusually hectic day and had learned later that it was Mr. Christopher's mysterious older brother.

"Yes, he did," he said. "Winthrop owns a small share in the corporation, you see, but he's the silent partner. He doesn't care for desks and boardrooms. Dad left him the ranch, which is worth a mint, and I have an equally small share in that. He's primarily a cattleman, and I'm a businessman, so we each have what we like most. He's something of a loner. But as long as we keep out of his way, we won't have any trouble."

That sounded ominous. She looked at the green-lined white steno pad in her lap. "A month is a long time," she said slowly.

"Come on, Nicky, what have you got going that you can't walk away from?" he chided gently. "No boyfriends, no evening classes. A month in the country would do you good. If that wealth of potted plants you surround your desk with is any indication, you must be a country girl at heart. Or at the very least, a frustrated gardener."

She laughed. "I do love plants. And, yes, I'm a country girl. I was born and bred in Kentucky," she confessed, "and I guess I do miss it sometimes. My people were farmers," she added, tossing off the white lie as easily as she twirled the pen in her slender hand. That was the story she told people, anyway, and it prevented a lot of embarrassing questions about why she'd given up all that money.

"And farming isn't the best profession to be in these days," he agreed with a fond smile. "I can see why you came to the big city. But since you do like the country, I presume, where's the problem?"

She sighed. "It's not quite orthodox."

"No, little puritan, it isn't," he agreed. "But for the next month, you're my private secretary and I'll even increase your salary to make it more acceptable."

"Oh, but that's not nec—" she began.

"Certainly it is," he countered, waving a lean hand at her. "I'm tired of the rat race, Nicky. I need rest or this ulcer is going to put me in the hospital. We'll both benefit from some mountain air."

"It's October," she reminded him. "Late October. Doesn't it snow in Montana in late October?"

"Oh, frequently," he agreed. "And the ranch is way up in the Rockies, near the Todd place—" he paused, glancing at her with an odd expression "—you remember Sadie, don't you?"

"Yes. She was very nice." A nurse, in fact, and Nicole's taciturn young boss had dated her and had been devastated when she left several months ago to take care of her invalid mother. Hmm, Nicole thought, that was about the time his health problems reared their ugly head.

"Anyway, the ranch is near the Todd place," he continued, "and we used to get snowed in a good bit. But we always get a chinook when we need one, and we can dig our way out. Stop worrying."

"What's a chinook?"

"A warm wind that comes unexpectedly to melt the snow," he said, smiling. "You'll love it there, Nicky. I promise."

I hope so, she thought. All at once she wondered if he had more than just health reasons for wanting to work at home. Sadie had managed to drag him out of his shell, and there had been a tangible something between them before her abrupt departure. It might turn out to be an interesting trip. "All right, I'll go," she agreed. "But you're sure your brother won't mind?"

He looked vaguely disturbed for a second. Then he smiled. "Of course I'm sure."

Nicky wondered later about that hesitation. Mr. Christopher had hardly ever mentioned his brother in all the time she'd worked for him. But through the office grapevine there had been some small bit of gossip about the Montana rancher, something someone had whispered just after his brief visit. If only she could remember it.

Becky, a blonde and vivacious woman who worked for one of the vice presidents, breezed into the office after Mr. Christopher had left for the day.

"What's this I hear about some exotic vacation you're taking with the big boss?" she teased.

Nicky laughed. "If you call the backwoods of Montana exotic, then I guess it's true." She sighed as she covered the computer. "I do hope you'll come to my funeral. I have visions of being eaten by a puma or carried off by a moose."

"You might be carried off by Winthrop." Becky grinned. "Or haven't you heard the grizzly tales about him?"

Nicole turned, her eyes wide and curious. "Is he terrible?"

"A wild man, from what we hear. They said some society girl threw him over a few years back, and he actually went to her engagement party with a Hollywood movie star—a girl who turned out to have been a school friend of his and owed him a favor. He called up the friend and paid her expenses all the way from Hollywood, just for the occasion. Ruined the event, of course, since the movie star got all the attention. He used to be a ladies' man and he's always been well-to-do, and he traveled in those very ritzy circles. But since then, he's pretty much given up his playboy status and turned to the great outdoors. They say his experience with the blonde heiress has soured him against rich women in a big way. Can't blame him too much, can you?"

"He sounds…interesting." Nicky chose her words carefully; it wouldn't do to show her fear.

"Looks that way, too, except for the scars and the limp. Although the scars had faded nicely the day he was in here." She grinned at Nicky. "He sure gave you a look, but you were so busy you didn't even notice him."

"I remember him, but I didn't look long enough to see the limp." She frowned. "How did he get it?"

"From the wreck. Deanne Sharp—of the Aspen Sharps, you know, ski-resort wear and accessories, and Winthrop's fiancée at the time—was driving. They crashed. He almost lost his leg, and during his recovery, she walked out on him. I guess she only liked him for his athletic ability. He was an Olympic-quality skier and they met on the ski slopes. He missed the Olympic team by a few points when he was younger."

"That was what I was trying to remember. Someone said he'd been in a wreck, but I forgot what happened."

"The lovely Deanne happened. I hear she's on husband number three now, and has millions. But all that happened three years ago, the year before you came to work," Becky said. "We all heard about it. What he did at that woman's engagement party might have sounded cruel, if you didn't know it all. We were in Winthrop's corner, all of us. He got a bad break. As it is, he gets around pretty good, but he isn't the pinup he used to be. An experience like that could make a man bitter, you know."

Nicky drew in a slow breath. "A real woman hater."

"Now that's the truth," Becky laughed. "No, he doesn't like women. So if you go to the ranch with the big boss, make sure you take lots of warm clothing. That way you won't get frozen—by the weather or Winthrop."

"We may get snowed in," Nicky moaned.

"The snows come big in Montana," she was told. "Six feet deep and more, sometimes. My best friend worked at the hospital here until she had to go back to Montana to take care of her invalid mother a few months ago. You might remember her—Sadie Todd? The boss used to take her out."

"Yes, I remember," Nicky said with a smile, and kept her mouth shut about what Mr. Christopher had told her.

"They grew up together," Becky added. "I visited her once. Montana is lovely country, but brutal. It's frozen a lot of people, but if you want to get away from the world, there's no better place."

"I don't think I want to go."

"Don't be silly," Becky chided. "The big boss is a doll. Winthrop can't be too horrible."

But Nicky still wasn't sure. She went home and got her small apartment in order, still with misgivings. It didn't take long to pack, because there wasn't a lot to pack. She had jeans and sweaters, some blouses and a single jersey dress, because she had the feeling that she would be roughing it. She took a thick winter coat as well, and some leather boots left over from the past. Her lips twisted in a thin smile when she surveyed the contents of her suitcase and she thought about the clothes and lifestyle she'd once taken for granted. She missed that easy luxury once in a great while, and when she had to pinch pennies to meet the rent, her principles didn't help much. But she was a different girl from the arrogant little miss her parents' financial indulgence and emotional indifference had created. And that meant a lot. She'd learned about reality in the past two years, and about real people, who didn't put a dollar sign on their friendship. Even though her friend Dana, with whom she'd roomed, had married a year ago, Nicole still had friends like Becky, and they often went to movies or the theater together.

She pulled on a pair of cotton pajamas, washed her face and went to bed. It wouldn't do any good to worry about the past or the future. It was enough to cope with the present.

Most helpful customer reviews

7 of 8 people found the following review helpful.
Two Sweet Love Stories
By Tala
Over all 3.5 stars

Woman Hater
★★★★☆
This is a love story about two damaged people. Winthrop is a man that was not only left emotionally, but also physically broken by a past relationship. The woman he was with had a devastating car accident while she was driving. When it became apparent that Winthrop would not fully recover she left him. This betrayal had left him hating women, especially rich ones. He refuses to even attempt to love or trust again. That is until he meets Nicki.

Nicki lived a privileged upbringing in that she wanted for nothing that money could buy. It couldn't buy her parents love however and when her mother dies she blames her father and renounces him and all his money. At the same time her fiancé dumps her for reasons that leave her scarred. Now living in Chicago her boss wants her to go to his brother's ranch for a month. Not being able to live without pay for that long she goes and as expected falls hard for the woman hating brother.

This is basically a story about two people learning to love and trust again. Of course they couldn't do so without each other. I really enjoyed the dance of Winthrop and Nicki as they would get close and then pull back. There is also the side story of Gerald and Sadie which was nice and didn't overshadow the main plot. I also loved Mary, the housekeeper; she added some much appreciated humor.

The Humbug Man
★★★☆☆
This is a quick sweet read. Maggie and Tate have both lost their spouses and have been alone for years. Tate has hidden his hurt with a cold attitude and distance; while Maggie has basically hid behind work and raising her son. Spending time at the ranch her father-in-law left her over Christmas put her next door to Tate. They're attracted to each other and as Tate thaws out and Blake's plans come together they fall in love.

Overall this is very sweet story of two lonely and hurt people finding each other. The pace is fast, but it needed to be for the length of the story.

(I received a copy from publisher in exchange for an honest review.)

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
Liked the second story better, but they are both dated.
By Landslide
*I received this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review*

"White Christmas" republishes two stories first published in 1987 and 1988:

"Woman Hater" – When her boss communicates to Nicole White that he'll be spending a month in his family house in Montana and asks her to go with him, she tries her best to dodge it but eventually she agrees to going with him. And when she meets his brother, Winthrop Christopher, Nicole finds herself strangely attracted to him. Winthrop is known for his despise for the opposite sex, after being rejected by his girlfriend in the past, but there is something about Nicole that attracts him...

This story had a lot of potential, two characters, very hurt in the past, and determined to be alone, meet and end up falling in love and convince each other to give love another chance. It could have been very good. But it wasn't. Maybe it's because it's been published more than 25 years ago and the story is dated, but there were too many details that irked me and made me not like the story at all...

Where to begin? Maybe with the protagonist, Nicole. Am I supposed to believe a rich and neglected girl, raised in abundance, with two neglecting parents and who had a boyfriend is a virgin? I have nothing against virgin protagonists as long as the explanation is plausible and this one just wasn't... Of course the girl simply melts with Winthrop's advances and becomes completely silly when she seemed so decided and determined in the beginning.

Winthrop is only slightly better. I understand where his hatred for women came from, after what he went through, the contrary would be weird. And I understand his reluctance in accepting his feelings for Nicole, but that ending ruined it for me... Not even the hotter scenes redeemed it because we don't get the denouement.

Oh well, I did like the secundary characters, Winthrop's brother and the housekeeper that has brilliant lines. Oh, and the only thing Christmassy about it is the fact that it ends on Christmas Eve...

"The Humbug Man" - Maggie Jeffries became a widow before she gave birth to her son Blake. Ten years later, she's spending the Holidays at her father-in-law's ranch while she tries to figure out what to do next. Tate Hollister is her neighbour and the most unlikable man she's ever met. Which, of course, makes her try particularly hard to provoke him. If only Blake wasn't so infatuated with the man, she could avoid him in the little time she's going to spend there.

But then Blake gets lost and Maggie turns to Tate to find and rescue him. Maggie and Blake have no other choice but to move to Tate's house because Blake has a broken leg and the heating in their house isn't working. And as she spends more time with Tate and begins to know him, Maggie realizes there is a motive for his behaviour. And you can feel the attraction between them.

I liked this story better, even though it is also dated. Once again, the end was my least favorite part.

3 of 4 people found the following review helpful.
Two stories
By Rhonda
3 STARS

Woman Hater by Diana Palmer

Woman Hater is about two people who had been hurt in the past and don't plan to be hurt again.
Winthrop was hurt both physically and in his pride. He especially doesn't want to have anything to do with someone from rich society.

Nicki blames her father for her mother's death. She has turned away from him and his money. When her fiancé found out that she refused her families money and wants to her earn a living now. He left her because she was now broke.

Now no one knows that she was from money now. She has kept her private life from her boss. Now her boss is going to Montana for a month to heal. He wants to take her with him. His neighbor is the woman he loves Sadie. Sadie moved back home to Montana to take care of her mom.

The story is a theme we see a lot. People who have been hurt don't want to trust a chance on love again. Nicki is a virgin and wants to wear white if she ever gets married and mean it. Their is some heavy petting. Their is plenty of drama. Some romance with three different couples need to workout their troubles. Some history about Montana and ranching.

Most of the story is set on a ranch up in Montana's mountain in late fall with a winter early snow storm.

I like the characters. That their is more going on than just the two main characters.
This is a nice romance to escape into.

I was given this ebook to read and asked in exchange to give honest review of it.

Humbug Man by Diana Palmer

This is a much smaller story. It is a Christmas one too. It is a nice story. mostly characters, little drama, action and heavy makeouts scenes.

Both Tate and Maggie are widowers. Maggie marriage only lasted months before her husband died. She was pregnant at the time. She was left a small ranch.

Maggie's son Blake wants them to spend Christmas at the ranch together before she decides what to do with it.
Blake has a case of hero worship with the rancher next door Tate. When he had spent the summer at the ranch with his grandfather Tate would follow him around.
Tate is not a happy person and has not celebrated the season since he lost his wife and son in car accident.

Blake wants to get them together.
It is a good short read, I did skip over some of love scenes.
Publisher: Harlequin HQN (September 24, 2013) 368 pages

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