Her Cowboy's Twin Blessings Read online

  Two stubborn hearts. One ranch.

  Could Montana Twins unite them?

  With orphaned twin infants to care for, Casey Courtright hoped to buy the ranch he works on—but he can’t match Ember Reed’s offer. Nevertheless, Casey agrees to show Ember the land she plans to use for her therapy center, but only if she’ll help him with the babies. And as the twins draw them together, Casey might just find that Ember is his perfect partner.

  She awkwardly lifted Will up onto her shoulder.

  The baby snuggled up next to her neck like his brother had. She shut her eyes for a moment. Casey paused, watching her. There was something in her expression—more than discomfort...pain.

  “No pressure, if you’d rather not,” Casey said. “It would just help me out, is all.”

  “I thought you didn’t like me,” she said, her eyes opening again, and she fixed him with a direct look that made him shift uncomfortably.

  “I don’t like what you stand for, Ember Reed, but Will seems to settle right down when you’re holding him, and babies are like dogs that way. They smell bad people. And like I said, I’m a bit desperate right now. You help me with the boys, and I’ll go out of my way to help you find the information you need to make your choice about buying this place. Fair is fair. I’m as good as my word.”

  Patricia Johns writes from Alberta, Canada. She has her Hon. BA in English literature and currently writes for Harlequin’s Love Inspired and Heartwarming lines. You can find her at patriciajohnsromance.com.

  Books by Patricia Johns

  Love Inspired

  Montana Twins

  Her Cowboy’s Twin Blessings

  Comfort Creek Lawmen

  Deputy Daddy

  The Lawman’s Runaway Bride

  The Deputy’s Unexpected Family

  His Unexpected Family

  The Rancher’s City Girl

  A Firefighter’s Promise

  The Lawman’s Surprise Family

  Harlequin Heartwarming

  A Baxter’s Redemption

  The Runaway Bride

  A Boy’s Christmas Wish

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  HER COWBOY’S

  TWIN BLESSINGS

  Patricia Johns

  And it came to pass, when the people heard the sound of the trumpet, and the people shouted with a great shout, that the wall fell down flat...and they took the city.

  —Joshua 6:20

  To my husband, the love of my life.

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Beneath Montana Skies by Mia Ross

  Chapter One

  Casey Courtright crossed his arms and chewed the side of his cheek as he looked down at the sleeping newborns. They were in matching cradles in the middle of the sitting room. He felt a wash of tenderness as he watched those little chests rise and fall. He’d had the infants in his house for a week now, and they were growing fast—as was Casey’s attachment to them. When he’d agreed to be his cousin’s babies’ guardian, he’d never suspected to be called upon to take custody! A tragic house fire changed all that... But even with these precious additions to his household, he was pretty sure he could keep his life on track. He had plans—rather immediate ones, actually.

  Casey shot the old ranch hand a grateful smile. “I appreciate the babysitting, Bert. My niece should be here to take over in an hour. I’ve got the bottles ready in the fridge. Diapers are here.” He nudged a box with his boot. “Wyatt there tends to wake up first. If you feed him real quick, you can be ready for when Will wakes up. It’s a handful with two.”

  “Sir, I’ll be fine,” Bert replied, rubbing a hand over the coarse stubble on his chin. “My wife and I raised five of our own, and we’re on our eighth grandchild. Granted, twins’ll be a new one for me, but I’m pretty sure I can figure it out for an hour.”

  “All right, then. Thanks. I’ll see you.”

  If only Casey felt that sure of himself with those two babies. He glanced over his shoulder once more as he headed through the kitchen to the side door. He’d worked here at Vern Acres Ranch for the last fifteen years, ever since his father was forced to sell the family spread. There wasn’t much money left over from that sale after debts were paid, and Casey had gone looking for ranching work on someone else’s land. That brought him here—Vern Acres. Mr. Vern ran a tight ship, and Casey had climbed in the ranks, finally landing as ranch manager. It was a respected position, but Casey would never feel quite settled until he had his own land again.

  Last Sunday in church, the pastor had talked about circling those Jericho walls. God said to march, and they just kept on marching—but seven days of circling those massive, impenetrable walls was a long time. Well, Casey had been circling these walls for fifteen years, looking for an opening, and just before those babies arrived, Casey had seen the cracks start.

  Mr. Vern was selling the ranch, and Casey had a down payment saved up and had arranged for a mortgage just large enough to cover what this land was worth. Not a penny more, mind you, but Casey was a man of faith, and he didn’t think he’d need that extra penny. He’d been praying for this chance ever since the Courtright land went to Reed Land Holdings, and when he told his dad that he had a chance at getting this ranch, old Frank Courtright had added his prayers to the effort. This morning, Casey was going on up to the main house to tender his offer to Mr. Vern himself.

  The drive from the manager’s house, where Casey lived, up to the main house took only about five minutes, and Casey’s truck bumped over the gravel road in a cheerful rhythm. Spring had come to this corner of Montana. Everything had sprouted—from the grass in the ditches lining to the road to the pasture, lush with tender new growth. Golden sunlight shone through the windshield and warmed up the cab.

  This was it—this was the day! And the bright sunlight sparkling off the last of the morning frost on those long, nodding grasses felt like a gift from above. He’d tell the boys about this day when they were old enough to understand—the day the Courtrights got land again. He’d have a ranch to leave to those kids, and they’d be raised right with horseback riding, chores and a personal pride in the land under their feet. And if he could find the right woman, maybe he could even give them a mom.

  Casey crested a hill, and the main house came into view. It was a low, wide ranch house with a porch that curved around the side. The backyard was fenced off, with a garden and a shade tree. And beyond the house in the distance, the snowcapped Rocky Mountains loomed in all their glory.

  Casey pulled his truck up next to the boss’s and turned off the engine. He sat for a moment, raising his heart to his Maker.

  Bless this, Lord, he prayed. This land would be the world to me, if You saw fit to give this Your blessing.

  Then he pushed open the door and hopped out. No time like the p
resent.

  The side screen door was propped open with a brick, and Casey could hear the sound of voices as he approached. Mr. Vern’s laugh boomed out, and then Casey heard another laugh—softer, more musical. Was a woman in there?

  Casey knocked on the door as a formality, then pushed it open as he always did and stepped inside. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the dimmer light of the kitchen. Mr. Vern stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his belly sticking out in front of him. He had a bristling white mustache that covered his lips so that you never could be sure what that mouth was doing unless he was laughing out loud or bellowing an order across a field.

  “Morning, Casey,” Mr. Vern said. “Good timing. This here is Ember.”

  Casey turned to make the introduction, and he was met with a tall, lithe blonde woman—bright blue eyes and a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. She was stunning—skin like cream and her lips shining with the lightest touch of gloss. He shook her hand and her grip was firm and confident.

  “Pleasure,” Casey said with a smile. “You a friend of the boss?”

  “Not exactly,” Mr. Vern cut in. “She’s considering putting an offer down on my ranch, and I need you to give her a tour of the place.”

  “An offer—” The words stuck in his throat. “Right. Not a problem.”

  This was his job, after all. He was ranch manager, and he’d be the one who knew the ins and outs of this place. It just came as a shock to hear he had competition already.

  “Her car is out front,” Mr. Vern added. “She hit that big pothole just before the turn.” Mr. Vern exchanged a look with Casey. No one who knew these roads made that mistake. That pothole formed every winter. “Looks like a bent axle to me. She’s going to be in town for a bit while she gets that fixed. The tow truck is on its way.”

  “Great.” Obviously, this wasn’t the time for Casey’s business with Mr. Vern, and already he could feel his opportunity slipping away. Of course, Mr. Vern would be cheery about all of this—the sale of this ranch was going to fund his retirement.

  “After you give her the tour, I’d like you to give her a ride back into Victory,” his boss said, then turned to the young woman. “The land is beautiful. I have a feeling you’re going to fall in love with the place.”

  Casey smiled tightly. “What was your name again?”

  “Ember,” she said. “Ember Reed.”

  “Wait—” Casey’s heart thudded to a stop and then hammered fast to catch up. “Reed... Not as in Reed Land Holdings?”

  Ember’s cheeks flushed. “Yes, actually. But I’m not acquiring land for my father’s business. This is a personal purchase.”

  “Right.” As if that even mattered. That wealthy family was the money behind the faceless corporate giant that had been gobbling up the land in the county for years. “Sir, could I have a word?”

  Mr. Vern’s smile faltered. “Sure. Ember, why don’t you go on outside and check out the view. Casey will be right with you.”

  Ember hitched a purse up onto her shoulder and headed out the side door. The screen slammed behind her, and Casey watched her look around for a moment before walking away from the door, affording him some privacy. For good measure, Casey swung the door shut.

  “Reed Land Holdings,” Casey said hollowly.

  “I need to sell, Casey. You know that.”

  “Yeah, but to them?” Casey clenched his teeth. “You’ve seen what they’ve been doing to this county! We used to be family ranches, shoulder to shoulder, until that soulless giant came through and started buying us out. They own sixty percent of the ranch land out here, and you want to turn that into sixty-five?”

  “Linda’s care isn’t cheap,” Mr. Vern replied. “And the place she’s in has been going downhill. I need to get her into a better care home.”

  Mr. Vern’s wife, Linda, was suffering from early-onset Alzheimer’s, and Casey could sympathize with his boss’s sense of urgency here.

  “Sir, I was coming up here to make you an offer, myself,” Casey said, pulling the folded papers from his pocket. “I’ve talked to the credit union about a mortgage, and with the money I’ve saved and the bit that my dad gave me from the sale of his land, I’ve got enough to make an offer.”

  “Oh?” Mr. Vern reached for the papers and scanned them. He nodded twice, then shot Casey an apologetic look. “It’s a fair offer, Casey. And I appreciate it. If all things were equal, I’d rather sell to you, but Miss Reed says that if she likes what she sees, she can offer twenty percent more than this.”

  Casey accepted his papers back, emotion closing off his throat.

  “I know how this seems,” Mr. Vern went on. “I know what your family lost, and I’m not some heartless cad. You know that. But with Linda’s cost of care going up, I need every penny I can get. This is my chance to retire, spend what time I can with my wife and set things up for my kids to inherit a little something when my time comes. I’m not young anymore. You might as well know that I’m in a lot of debt. Reed Land Holdings did a number on my profits, too. They’ve hurt everyone.”

  “But you’re selling to them—”

  “I’m not selling to them,” Mr. Vern retorted. “I’m willing to sell to that young lady out there. Like she said, this a personal purchase for her. Nothing to do with her father at all.”

  “Funded by him, no doubt,” Casey shot back.

  “Who am I to judge where someone gets their money?” Mr. Vern shook his head. “Everyone gets it from somewhere, and I don’t care if I’m paid by a bank or a checking account. I’ve got my own worries, Casey. You have to appreciate that. She’s not adding this to her father’s stash of land—this is for her.”

  “Her—” Casey hooked a thumb toward the closed door. “That little blonde with the city heels on her boots and the clothes that look like money. She’s going to ranch this land herself?”

  Mr. Vern shrugged weakly. “Whatever she chooses to do with it is her concern. I’ve got Linda to worry about, Casey. I’m sorry.”

  And Casey couldn’t argue that point. Mr. Vern loved his wife, and he’d do what he had to in order to get her the care she needed. Casey heaved a sigh.

  “I was going to show her around myself, but my old knee is really sore this morning. I need you to show her around,” Mr. Vern went on quietly. “I know it’s a lot to ask right now, but I also know the kind of man you are. I wouldn’t trust this to anyone else, Casey. Besides, she mentioned needing a manager around here. I could make it a stipulation of the sale that you stay employed.”

  Mr. Vern was trying to help—Casey could see that much—but he didn’t have any intention of working for a Reed. Ever.

  “I’ll do my job, sir,” he replied tightly. “You can count on me for that.”

  He headed for the door. Fifteen years was a long time to work this land, circling those fields and cattle like his own personal Jericho walls. Fifteen years was a long time to pray for God to set things right for his family once again.

  It looked like he’d be praying for a little while longer.

  * * *

  Ember turned as the door opened, and that tall, lanky cowboy came back outside. The screen swung slowly shut behind him as he strode into the sunlight and replaced a cowboy hat on his head. He wore a thick vest over his shirt, but his sleeves were rolled up his forearms, revealing solid muscle, and those brown eyes locked on to her somberly—none too glad to see her now that he knew who she was, apparently. He was good-looking in a way she didn’t see too often in the city. He wasn’t clean-cut by a long shot, but he carried himself with an easygoing confidence.

  “Miss Reed, I was asked to show you around,” he said. “I’m Casey Courtright, by the way. Ranch manager.”

  Ember nodded. “Pleasure to meet you. Call me Ember, though.”

  She turned back to drink in the cattle-dotted hills. It didn’t matter which way a person
stood on this land, there was a magnificent view from every angle—nothing like her home in Billings. She owned a small apartment in the city—a gift from her father when she graduated with her master’s degree in family counseling. And she loved that little apartment. This land, though—this was a chance at something much bigger... Her mark on the world at long last.

  She could see a modern silver barn, a web of roads leading away from it. But farther south, there was a red barn, brilliant against an emerald background of pasture, and it kept drawing her eye. If she did buy this land, that barn would stay. She’d have no use for the other one, though.

  “You’re not a country woman, are you?” Casey said, interrupting her reverie.

  “Why do you say that?” she asked, casting him a guarded look.

  “Your clothes. Those shoes—” Then he nodded in the direction of the picturesque little barn. “The way you look all wistful when you look at barns.”

  She smiled, then shook her head. “No, I’m from Billings.”

  “So what plans do you have for the ranch?” he asked.

  “I’m not even sure this is the right ranch,” she said, and she noticed the tall cowboy stilled at those words. He raised an eyebrow.

  “What do you mean, the right one?” he asked.

  “My family had a homestead around here somewhere, and I want to buy the land they used to live on back in the eighteen hundreds.”

  “Oh.” He hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, then shrugged. “And how will you know if you’ve found the right land?”

  “There are some descriptions in old journals. Some names of creeks and rivers... Before I put down an official offer on this place, I need to confirm it’s the right property.”

  “Does Mr. Vern know that?”

  “I’m not hiding anything.”

  From the view that spilled out in front of her, she very well might fall in love with the place as Mr. Vern hoped. But it wasn’t the view she was passionate about purchasing, nor would loving the place stop her from walking away. She wanted the land where her ancestors struggled through long winters, where they hunted to keep their growing family fed, where they chopped down trees for their very own log house and barn. Ember’s mother had told her stories about the old days when men had to guard their cattle against wolves, and when wagons clattered over trails on their yearly trip to Victory, the closest town they had. Those stories had inspired her, made her feel like she was part of something bigger than herself, something more meaningful.