Coming Home to The Cowboy
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Patricia Thayer
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CHAPTER ONE
REBECCA looked out the window of the Cessna at the vast miles of majestic Rocky Mountain range. The brilliant May sun was reflecting off the dew-covered emerald-green pastures below.
Suddenly the plane dipped lower and she got a better look. The Tucker ranch came into view. Pristine white fences lined the road that led to a sprawling brick and white clapboard house trimmed with dark green shutters and surrounded by a perfectly manicured lawn. Her attention shifted to the outer buildings, several brightly painted red barns. In a large corral two beautiful white and black leopard-spotted horses, Appaloosas, ambled back and forth.
So this is Mitchell Tucker’s Wyoming empire.
Rebecca felt the familiar stirring of excitement at the prospect of a new client. The chase and proving her talent were her favorite parts of the job. Her record was impeccable when it came to landing the premier accounts. She wasn’t going to give this millionaire rancher the opportunity to consider any other agency to promote his new business, free-range beef.
The pilot tapped her on the shoulder and motioned that they were going to land.
“I’m ready,” she called and drew a calming breath. This might be partly a vacation, but she planned to work her tail off too. It was the only thing she knew how to do. Besides, what else was there to do in Wyoming?
Waiting for the plane to land, Mitch Tucker leaned against his black Range Rover. His kids stood beside him at the end of the private landing strip. He was still wondering if he’d needed his head examined to agree to contact a New York ad agency. He’d relinquished that part of his life two years ago when he’d sold off all his international holdings. His focus was on business close to home in Wyoming. He’d resisted getting involved again with that old fast-paced lifestyle. He’d hoped to do everything locally, while being hands-on with the whole operation.
He glanced at his eleven-year-old daughter. Greta Caroline not only looked like her mother, blonde and fair-skinned with rich sapphire-blue eyes, she was also just as stubborn when she wanted something. His daughter was the one who’d practically taken over his idea to raise free-range beef.
Greta had spent hours on the Internet researching marketing agencies for this project. And after he’d done some of his own research he knew they needed the right promotion to make their venture profitable. Not that he needed to worry about money. Working together with his kids was what mattered most. This was the first thing Greta had taken an interest in since her mother’s death. He couldn’t deny her this.
If it hadn’t been for his children, losing Carrie would have finished him. At the time of their mother’s death, Greta was nine and Colby was only three. Someone had to take care of them. That alone made Mitch drag himself out of bed every day, put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward.
Two years later, he’d long since stopped his travel and gotten more involved in the ranching operation. But always in the center of everything were his kids. They were the reason he was standing here waiting for a New York executive to help promote his new beef program. This was just the beginning of his new life. Someday, he wanted to give his kids a complete family again.
“Please, Daddy, promise you’ll be nice.”
He looked down at his daughter’s worried face. “This is business; you can’t always be nice. I’ll be polite.”
“But you can be…intimidating.”
“In business, that’s not a bad way to be, Greta.”
She sighed dramatically. “You said you’d give this a chance. I’ve researched this, and we need the right kind of advertising, the right market to promote our beef. Please, just listen to Ms Valentine’s ideas.”
He forced a smile. “I said I would, and you know I don’t go back on my promises.” How in the hell is a New Yorker going to know anything about ranching in Wyoming? “I talked with Brent Pierce and he’s assured me that Ms Valentine is the right person for this job.”
Greta nodded enthusiastically. “Rebecca Valentine is one of their top agents and a junior partner. She’s worked for the Pierce Agency since college when she graduated Summa Cum Laude ten years ago—”
“Whoa, where did you get all this information?”
She looked up at him, showing off the pretty smile that was going to do him in. “I did my research like you taught me.”
Before he could say anything more, Colby began jumping up and down, pointing to the other end of the runway as the plane touched down. “They’re here, Dad.”
When the plane stopped taxiing, Mitch took his son’s hand and the three of them hurried onto the runway. He would give this a chance, just as he’d promised, realizing he had to be crazy to invite a career-driven female into his home. Ms Valentine wasn’t the type of woman he planned to expose his kids to, or the type who would be content living on a cattle ranch.
Mitch paused next to the Cessna as his pilot and his ranch manager, Wally Hagan, walked around and popped open the passenger door. The first thing he saw of the New York agent was a pair of black high-heeled shoes that were attached to long, shapely legs. A sudden dryness in Mitch’s throat made it difficult to swallow when bare knees and part of a thigh made an appearance.
Holding Wally’s hand, the passenger finally made it out of the plane. Clearing the wing, she stepped into the sunlight and Mitch couldn’t catch his breath. Rebecca Valentine was a tall woman with golden brown hair that was drawn back into a bun, except for a few wayward curls that circled her pretty face.
A smile touched her full mouth, but it was her light blue, almost gray eyes that he was drawn to. He didn’t realize he’d been staring until his daughter nudged him.
“Ms Valentine…I’m Mitch Tucker,” he said and held out his hand. “Welcome to Wyoming.”
She had a firm handshake. “Please, call me Rebecca.”
“And I’m Mitch.” He quickly moved on. “This is my daughter, Greta.”
She took the girl’s hand. “Greta, it’s good to finally meet you.”
“I’m glad to meet you, too, Ms Valentine.”
“Since we’ll all be working together, please call me Rebecca.”
Greta turned to her father and he nodded his permission.
Mitch gathered his small son in front of him. The five-year-old was already dirty and his dark curly hair unruly. “And this is Colby.”
She leaned down to look in his eyes. “Hello, Colby.”
Colby smiled, showing off his missing bottom tooth. “Hi, Rebecca, I’m five.” He held up his spread fingers.
“My, that’s old,” she said. “I bet you go to school.”
He bobbed his head. “This year I start kindergarten.”
Mitch motioned to the SUV. “Well, let’s take you to the house and get you settled in.”
Wally helped Mitch load the suitcases and the kids climbed in back. He came around the passenger side to find Rebecca attempting to climb into the high seat. Her narrow skirt rose up dangerously, threatening Rebecca’s modesty, and Mitch’s sanity.
“SUVs and short skirts don’t mix,” she said. “I guess I didn’t think about this outfit being impractical. I should have worn pants.”
“Jeans might even be better,” he offered. “If you’ll allow me to help, we can get going.”
“Sure.”
She gasped as he scooped her up. He dropped her in the bucket seat, but not before he caught a whiff of her scent, and felt the enticing curve of her small waist.
“Like I said, pants will make it easier…for all of us.” He grimaced, knowing his words were too revealing.
Hell, he’d been widowed for two years. Just about anything would set him off.
The house was even more impressive close up. Rebecca eyed the small details of the fence and flowers that hung from the front porch. Mitch pulled the car into the circular drive and continued around the structure to the back.
“We live pretty simply here and the back door is closer to everything,” Mitch told her.
“I know,” Rebecca replied. “I spent a lot of time at my grandparents’, we always used the back door.”
For some reason she was just chattering away. She knew Mitch Tucker hadn’t been exactly thrilled about calling in a New York company, but a good businessman should want the right promotion for his product. She just needed to convince him that she was the best person to do that for him.
Once parked, she opened the truck door and got out without any help. Mitch grabbed her bags and went up the step to the small back porch. Colorful pots filled with flowers were arranged against the house, making the place look homely and welcoming.
Mitch opened the glass-paneled door and motioned her in. She walked into a mud room with a washer and dryer; several pairs of boots were lined against one wall. She crossed another threshold into a bright yellow kitchen with maple cabinets and white-tiled counters. A trestle-table sat in front of a row of windows that overlooked a view of the ranch.
“This is lovely,” she said as Mitch walked through, carrying her bags down a hall.
She started to follow him when Greta stopped her. “Yellow was my mom’s favorite color,” the girl said.
Colby pulled a chair out and climbed up on it. “She died when I was really little,” he announced as his brown eyes glistened.
“I’m sorry.” Even though Rebecca knew the Tucker family history, she wasn’t prepared to deal with this. No child should have to be without a mother.
“She loved us a whole bunch,” the boy added.
“I’m sure she did,” Rebecca said, fighting the urge to wrap her arms around this child.
“Do you have any little boys?” Colby asked.
Her chest tightened with the familiar pain. “No, I don’t.”
“Any little girls?”
Rebecca swallowed. Unable to speak, she shook her head.
Greta stepped in. “Colby, Rebecca is a career woman and she flies all over the country for her job.”
Colby put his hands on his hips. “I know that, but she can have kids, too.”
Mitch returned. “Hey, can’t you two at least stop arguing until Rebecca gets settled? You don’t want to scare her off.”
The children’s eyes widened. “We’re sorry, Rebecca,” Greta said.
Mitch pointed to the hall. “Why don’t I show you to your room so you can rest?”
Rebecca was tired and her stomach was a little unsettled after the long trip into Denver, and the flight to the ranch. “How about I rest a while, then later we’ll discuss some ideas?”
“You rest today. Tomorrow is soon enough,” Mitch said.
Before Rebecca could argue, he was escorting her down the hall. He led her to a doorway off the main floor and opened double doors leading into a large bedroom. The walls were painted a pale blue with white crown moldings and off-white carpeting. A mahogany four-poster bed was adorned with an ecru satin comforter.
“Oh, this is a beautiful room.” She sighed. “I think it’s bigger than my entire apartment back in New York.”
He smiled and she felt the jolt all the way to her toes. “Land is more plentiful here and I hope it stays that way.” He waved to the full-sized bathroom. “There should be plenty of towels in the cabinet. If there’s anything else you need let me know. Our housekeeper, Margie, is away for a few months on family business. So the kids and I are handling things on our own this summer.”
“You are a brave man,” Rebecca said without thinking.
His piercing brown eyes held hers, and he folded his arms against his broad chest. The man was big and gorgeous with thick, wavy dark brown hair. She couldn’t help but enjoy the total package. Her gaze swept over the blue Western-cut shirt tucked into the narrow waist of his fitted dark denim jeans and on to his feet encased in snakeskin boots.
He could be an ad as the perfect cowboy.
“Are you saying I can’t handle a hundred and forty sections of cattle ranch, a horse-breeding business, and two kids?”
Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “If your kids were just run-of-the-mill kids, but those two…” She nodded toward the kitchen. “They’re scheming for a takeover.”
That brought a wide, sexy grin. “You could be right.” He took a step toward her. “So tell me, Rebecca Valentine, are you here to join forces with them, or save me?”
Two hours later, Mitch moved around the kitchen preparing an early supper, admonishing himself for flirting with Rebecca Valentine. This was business, and no matter how attractive she was he couldn’t mix the two. Not that he wanted to. No. Even though he was attracted to her, he’d be crazy to get mixed up with a New Yorker, a career woman. No, this wasn’t the woman he needed…
Mitch ran his hand over his face in frustration. He’d better get it together because she was going to be here a while, right under his roof. He just needed to think about what was good for Greta and Colby.
Okay, he could handle it. He went to the oven and checked on the enchiladas. Thanks to Margie, they had several prepared dishes in the freezer.
Margie Kline had been working for the Tuckers part-time since Colby was born. Then after Carrie’s death, the widowed grandmother moved in to stay. She’d become a part of the family, and helped Mitch keep his sanity.
So when Margie had asked for a few months to stay with her sister during her hip surgery and recuperation, he hadn’t been able to turn his housekeeper down. Besides, it gave him more time to spend with the kids. Of course, now he had a house guest.
Rebecca Valentine could stay in town, but he’d spend too much time driving her back and forth. This seemed to be the best solution, especially since he was needed here and she had to familiarize herself with the operation.
Greta came in and immediately began to take the dishes from the cupboard and set the table. “Do you think we should eat in the dining room? We have a guest.”
“No, Greta. Rebecca is here to learn how we do things. She’s going to get dirty just like the rest of us.” Did she have clothes to wear on a ranch? Visions of her trying to get around in a short skirt had his body suddenly stirring to life.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Mitch glanced up to see Rebecca standing in the doorway. She had changed into a pair of gray pleated trousers and a wine-colored, short-sleeve blouse. She looked a lot shorter in her flat shoes, but that didn’t take away from her appeal.
“Sure, you can pour the milk for the kids and iced tea for us,” he told her. “It’s in the refrigerator.”
Rebecca went to the cupboard and found glasses. “Something smells wonderful.”
“Enchiladas,” Greta said.
“Did you make them?” she asked.
Greta smiled. “No, I can cook some things but these are Margie’s specialty. She left us a lot of food in the freezer.”
“We won’t starve,” Mitch said.
“I’m not worried,” she told him. “Give me some lettuce and tomatoes and I’m happy.”
He stopped opening the tortillas. “Please, don’t tell me you’re a vegetarian.”
Rebecca enjoyed seeing the panicked look on Mitch Tucker’s face. “No, I’m not. If I could I’d eat steak and burgers all the time. I just have to watch my weight.”
She felt his intense gaze roam from her head down to her toes, spreading heat in its wake. She had never been able to obtain that lean look that was so popular. Rachel had gotten all the thin genes.
“You look fine,” he told her.
“Those great-smelling enchiladas aren’t going to help,” she said as she took the milk and pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator and placed them on the table.
Mitch put on oven mitts, took out the covered baking dish, and brought it to the table. Just then Colby raced into the room and jumped into his seat.
“Oh, boy,” he cried, looking hungrily at the food.
“Did you wash your hands?”
A pair of big brown eyes widened as if deciding what to say. “I did this morning.”
Mitch frowned and pointed to the door. “Go and wash.”
“Okay.” Colby got up.
“I should go with you,” Rebecca said. “I forgot to wash mine, too. Will you show me the way?”
Colby perked up. “Sure. Come on. I have this cool soap that foams up and smells like bubble gum.”
“Wow. I’ve got to see this.” She glanced over her shoulder. “We’ll be back shortly.”
It wasn’t long before there was laughter coming from the bathroom. There was nothing sweeter to Mitch’s ears.
Finally the twosome returned and sat down at the table. Soon both his children were vying for Rebecca’s attention. Mitch decided it wasn’t that odd. Besides Margie there hadn’t been many women in the house since their mother’s death.
“Hey, Dad,” Colby called. “Did you know that Rebecca knows how to ride? Her grandpa owned horses.”
“Is that so?” he said, somewhat surprised. “Where was their farm?” He dished out a helping of enchiladas and handed it to her, then filled Colby’s plate.
“Outside of Lexington, Virginia,” Rebecca said. “My grandfather bred and trained Quarter Horses and European Warmbloods, all disciplines—hunters, jumpers and dressage. It was a small operation.”
Mitch finished serving everyone. “Did your family move to New York?”
Family? That was something she’d never had. Not unless you counted the mismatched union her parents had called a marriage. “No, just my mother and sister; my parents divorced when I was pretty young.”
For all their sakes, Robert and Diana Valentine had called it quits after a few years, but the bitterness had continued until her mother’s death a decade ago. It also had caused their twin daughters to choose sides. That was how Rachel had ended up in the UK with their father, and Rebecca living in the States with their mother.
“Our mother moved us to Long Island to work. But I spent summers in Virginia, but once I started college it was too difficult to get back. And by then Poppy Crawford retired and sold the horse farm.”
Mitch checked to see that Colby was eating, and took a bit himself. “You and your sister didn’t want to follow family tradition?”
“My sister now resides with my father’s family,” she said, recalling since their mother’s death just how many years it had been since she’d seen Rachel. Along with her other family members, Grandfather William, her father, half-brothers and -sisters.
“She works in London. Our father is British.”
“Wow! Do you go to London?” Greta asked.
“I haven’t been back there in years.”
Rebecca wondered how they’d sidetracked her. She wasn’t used to revealing so much family history. There was only one person she’d ever shared the Valentines’ sins with; her friend, Stephanie Ellison.
“These enchiladas are great,” she said. “Margie is a great cook.”
Mitch must have seen her discomfort. “Kids, why don’t you finish eating? You have other chores.”
They groaned.
“All right, if they don’t get done today, then you can’t ride out to see the herd tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Greta said. After they cleaned their plates Colby helped his sister carry their plates to the sink.
Once they were out of earshot, Mitch turned back to Rebecca. “I apologize for all the questions.”
“They’re curious.”
“Do you think you can handle them for the next few weeks?”
The kids weren’t going to be her problem. Rebecca smiled. “One thing about kids: they’re open and honest for the most part. I find that refreshing.”
“It can get stale pretty quick.” He turned serious. “If you ever feel they’re infringing on your privacy, just let me know.”
She laughed. “As big as this house is, I can’t believe we’ll get in each other’s way. Besides, it’s very gracious of you to invite me to stay here.”
He got up and took down two mugs from the cupboard. “Coffee?”
At her nod, he did his task. As he walked back to the table she couldn’t help but be aware of his powerful presence—but at the same time how comfortable he seemed waiting on her.
“This is a pretty rural area. One of the reasons I have my own plane is to get in and out fast. The winters can be treacherous.”
“They can be in New York, too.” She took a sip of coffee. The kids were on the other side of the kitchen doing dishes, chatting away. A good-looking man was sitting across from her as they shared coffee.
Yes, she used to see herself in this life with a man and children. Now…
“Rebecca…”
She turned toward Mitch’s voice. “Sorry,” she said, embarrassed. “I guess I drifted off.”
“I’d say it’s more likely jet lag. You’ve flown a long way. I doubt you slept much in the last twenty-four hours.”
“If you don’t mind, I think I will call it a day.”
“I don’t mind at all,” he told her. “I want you rested when we ride out tomorrow. There’s a lot to see.”
It just dawned on her that she’d probably landed this account because she was the only one in the firm that could ride a horse. Was this all-too-good-looking cowboy waiting to see if she could keep up? She’d been crazy to think she could relax.
“I’ll be ready.”
