Forever a Hero--A Western Romance Novel Read online

  For the youngest Carson brother, finding—and fixing—trouble seems to be all in a day’s work

  Mace Carson doesn’t consider himself a hero. Back in college, he came upon a woman in trouble and intervened—but he was just one irate Wyoming cowboy with his boots planted firmly on the side of right. Now a successful vintner, Mace is shocked to be reunited with the woman he saved. But it turns out she’s in Wyoming on business…a corporate executive representing the company that wants to buy his winery. Only, he’s not selling.

  Kelly Wright has never forgotten that horrible night ten years ago when Mace came to her rescue, has never forgotten him. The surprising success of a winery in the middle of ranch country has brought her to Mustang Creek, and she’s secretly thrilled to discover Mace at the helm. Reluctant to mix business with pleasure, Kelly vows to keep things professional, until her attacker is released from prison and comes for vengeance…against both of them.

  Praise for #1 New York Times bestselling author Linda Lael Miller

  “Miller delights readers… The coming together of the two families was very well written and the characters are fraught with humor and sexual tension, which leads to a lovely HEA [happily ever after].”

  —RT Book Reviews on The Marriage Season

  “The Marriage Season is a wonderfully candid example of a contemporary western with the requisite ranch, horses, kids and dogs—wouldn’t be a Linda Lael Miller story without pets… The Brides of Bliss County novels do not have to be read in order but it would be a shame to miss some of the most endearing love stories that feature rugged, handsome cowboys.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “Fans of Linda Lael Miller will fall in love with The Marriage Pact and without a doubt be waiting for the next installments… Her ranch-based westerns have always entertained and stayed with me long after reading them.”

  —Idaho Statesman

  “Miller has found a perfect niche with charming western romances and cowboys who will set readers’ hearts aflutter. Funny and heartwarming, The Marriage Pact will intrigue readers by the first few pages. Unforgettable characters with endless spunk and desire make this a must-read.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “All three titles should appeal to readers who like their contemporary romances Western, slightly dangerous and graced with enlightened (more or less) bad-boy heroes.”

  —Library Journal on the Montana Creeds series

  “An engrossing, contemporary western romance… Miller’s masterful ability to create living, breathing characters never flags, even in the case of Echo’s dog, Avalon; combined with a taut story line and vivid prose, Miller’s romance won’t disappoint.”

  —Publishers Weekly on McKettrick’s Pride (starred review)

  Also available from Linda Lael Miller and HQN Books

  The Carsons of Mustang Creek

  Once a Rancher

  Always a Cowboy

  Forever a Hero

  The Brides of Bliss County

  Christmas in Mustang Creek

  The Marriage Season

  The Marriage Charm

  The Marriage Pact

  The Parable Series

  Big Sky Secrets

  Big Sky Wedding

  Big Sky Summer

  Big Sky River

  Big Sky Mountain

  Big Sky Country

  McKettricks of Texas

  An Outlaw’s Christmas

  A Lawman’s Christmas

  McKettricks of Texas: Austin

  McKettricks of Texas: Garrett

  McKettricks of Texas: Tate

  The Creed Cowboys

  The Creed Legacy

  Creed’s Honor

  A Creed in Stone Creek

  Stone Creek

  The Bridegroom

  The Rustler

  A Wanted Man

  The Man from Stone Creek

  The McKettricks

  A McKettrick Christmas

  McKettrick’s Heart

  McKettrick’s Pride

  McKettrick’s Luck

  McKettrick’s Choice

  The Montana Creeds

  A Creed Country Christmas

  Montana Creeds: Tyler

  Montana Creeds: Dylan

  Montana Creeds: Logan

  Mojo Sheepshanks

  Arizona Wild (previously published as Deadly Gamble)

  Arizona Heat (previously published as Deadly Deception)

  Look for more Carsons of Mustang Creek

  A Snow Country Christmas

  LINDA LAEL MILLER

  Forever a Hero

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome back to Mustang Creek, Wyoming, home of hot cowboys and the smart, beautiful women who love them.

  Forever a Hero is the story of Mace, the youngest of the three Carson brothers. A cowboy-turned-vintner, he’s focused on taking his successful winery to new heights—and though he has no interest in selling it to corporate executive Kelly Wright, the woman he rescued from trouble once upon a time, he’s got more than a little interest in her.

  Mace might be the hero Kelly never forgot, but she’s determined not to mix business with pleasure. She’s returned to Mustang Creek to make him an offer he can’t refuse, and she intends to get her way. But when her attacker returns for vengeance, Kelly might find that Mace’s arms are the safest place of all.

  If you read the previous two books in this trilogy, Once a Rancher and Always a Cowboy, you’ll recognize a lot of the characters, and I hope you’ll enjoy reuniting with them.

  Ranch life runs deep with me. I live on my own modest little spread called the Triple L, and we’ve got critters aplenty: five horses, two dogs and two cats. And those are just the official ones—we share the land with wild turkeys, deer and the occasional moose, and I wouldn’t live any other way.

  My love of animals shows in my stories, and I never miss a chance to speak for the silent furry ones who have no voices and no choices. So please support your local animal shelters, have your pets spayed and neutered, and if you’re feeling a mite lonely, why not rescue a four-legged somebody waiting to love you with the purest of devotion.

  Thank you for bending an ear my way, and enjoy the story.

  With all best,

  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

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  FOREVER

  EXCERPT FROM ONCE A RANCHER BY LINDA LAEL MILLER

  CHAPTER ONE

  IT ALL HAPPENED in a matter of seconds.

  And every one of those seconds felt like a year.

  Mace Carson had been cruising along behind the unfamiliar car up ahead ever since he’d cleared the city limits of Mustang Creek a few minutes before, when the other rig suddenly fishtailed on the rain-slick pavement and spun a full 360. The slow-motion spin, weirdly graceful, and at the same t
ime potentially deadly, was sickening to watch.

  He eased his truck to the side of the road, jammed down the emergency brake pedal, then groped for his cell phone and muttered an expletive, watching the situation unfold, helpless to intervene as the vehicle shot toward the steep slope on the opposite shoulder, where there were no guardrails. The drop was nearly fifty feet, by his calculations, with no trees or boulders to break the fall.

  Not that either would have been ideal, any way you looked at it.

  With a second curse, he was out of the truck and running to do what he could, heedless of the pounding rain, phone in hand, thumb on the button that would speed-dial 911.

  Meanwhile, the car came to a precarious stop at the edge, teetered and then slipped again, winding up at a precarious angle, half on the road, half off, passenger-side down. The mud, a few inches deep and slick as snot, offered the briefest purchase.

  Mace didn’t rattle easily, but in those moments, his heart zoomed into his throat. He was close enough now to glimpse the driver, a woman, pale and wide-eyed with shock, leaning hard into the car door, as if she hoped to waft right through the metal to the safety of solid ground.

  “Don’t move!” he said, never knowing if he’d shouted the words or simply mouthed them, dropping the phone to the ground because he was going to need both hands to get her out before the mud gave way and sent her and the car tumbling downhill, ass over teakettle.

  He saw her nod. Stiffen.

  He gripped the door handle, never taking his eyes off her face, realized instantly that the locks were still engaged.

  “Shift into Park,” he told the woman, giving silent thanks that the air bags hadn’t deployed. The mechanisms were sensitive; in some cars, especially newer models, no collision was required. An abrupt change of direction could trigger them. “And then unfasten your seat belt. Slow and easy, now—no sudden moves.”

  Another nod from her. He was either yelling or she could read lips, because she did what he’d told her to do. With a flash of relief, he heard the locks release.

  The car slid a few inches farther down the hill.

  *

  BRACING HIS FEET, Mace pulled at the door. Gravity worked against him, but he’d bucked a lot of bales in his time, dug a lot of postholes and like any man who did hard physical work, he was strong.

  A wedge of space opened between them.

  “You’re gonna have to get out on your own,” he told the woman, who was trembling so badly her teeth chattered. His voice sounded strangely calm, at least to him, considering the circumstances. “For obvious reasons, I can’t let go of this door long enough to give you a hand.”

  She slithered through the gap as if boneless, landing on her hands and knees at Mace’s feet.

  When he let go of the handle a heartbeat later, the door slammed shut with an impact that set the rig in motion. As he helped the woman up from the ground, the car lurched violently, tipped onto its side and rolled over, then over again and again, gaining momentum with every flip, finally landing with an echoing crash on its top, square in the middle of the creek below.

  Still gripping the shuddering stranger by both arms, Mace closed his eyes briefly, comparing what might have happened with what actually had. This was one lucky lady, whoever she was.

  In the aftermath of the adrenaline rush, Mace felt a little shaky himself, but he quickly recovered. He needed to focus on what, if anything, still needed to be done; while the woman appeared to be in one piece, she could be in shock, or she might have hit her head at some point and gotten a concussion. Or suffered internal injuries of some kind.

  Growing up rough-and-tumble, like any ranch kid, and competing in his share of rodeos, he knew some injuries didn’t show on the outside, the way cuts and bruises did. Not immediately, anyhow.

  That made his fight-or-flight response spike again, and he took a moment to breathe his way through, line up his thoughts.

  Satisfied that the lady was still upright and her eyes hadn’t rolled back or anything, he looked down the hillside.

  He’d half expected the car to explode into flames when it hit bottom, rain or no rain, but it just lay there, so coated in mud that its color, rental-beige as he recalled, was indiscernible now. With all four wheels turning slowly, the rig reminded Mace of a turtle on its back, kicking in an effort to right itself.

  “Holy shit,” he said, exhaling the words.

  The woman looked up at him, rain-soaked, still pale, but with a quiver of amusement playing at the corners of her mouth. “You can say that again,” she replied. “But please don’t.”

  He gave a short, hoarse burst of laughter at that. She was shaking, and he wasn’t entirely sure she wouldn’t buckle to the ground if he loosened his grip, but she had grit, no doubt about it. Considering what she’d just been through, he wouldn’t have considered hysterical sobs, a good old-fashioned fainting spell or a spate of violent retching out of line.

  “Are you hurt?” He wished he’d asked the obvious question sooner, instead of just thinking about it.

  She shook her head. Her hair, hanging in dripping tendrils, not quite long enough to touch her shoulders, was some shade of blond. Her eyes, still huge, were a remarkable shade of green, flecked with gold. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him, raising her voice to be heard over the continuing downpour. “Thanks to you.”

  “Any pain? Numbness?” Mace asked, unconvinced.

  “I have a few bumps and bruises,” she answered, “but nothing hurts, and there’s no numbness, either. I guess I’m shaken up, is all—that was a close one.” She bit her lower lip before going on. “If you hadn’t been here—” She stopped, shook her head again and wiped her eyes with the back of one hand.

  “I was, though,” he said gently. “We’ll get you checked out, just to be on the safe side.”

  Her response was a disjointed jumble of words, partial sentences. “The car—it’s a rental—I’m not sure I signed up for the extra insurance.”

  “Let’s worry about that later,” he told her. “Right now, we’re headed for the hospital.”

  “I really don’t think I’m injured—”

  He held on to her arm with one hand while he bent to retrieve his phone from the asphalt. It looked a little the worse for wear, although it probably still worked just fine. “If it’s all the same to you,” he said lightly, “I’d rather hear that from a licensed medical professional.”

  She sighed.

  “Plus, this rain isn’t helping,” he added, squiring her carefully toward his truck. It would’ve been faster to pick her up and carry her, but if she was hurt, it wouldn’t do to jostle her around like a sack of feed.

  They reached the truck, and he opened the passenger door, but before he could offer any assistance, she’d climbed onto the running board under her own power and then settled herself in the seat. For the briefest of moments, looking into her face, Mace had the impression that he knew this woman from somewhere.

  “If I thought it would do me any good to argue,” she said with a hint of a smile, “I’d repeat what I’ve been saying all along. I don’t need to see a doctor. Besides, you’ve done enough already.”

  “You’re at least partly right,” Mace responded. “Arguing won’t do a damn bit of good, and I only did what anybody else would have done, under the circumstances. As for not needing to see a doctor, well, that’s debatable.”

  “Seriously. I’m absolutely certain that all I need is a hot bath, a couple of aspirin and some sleep. So if you’d just drop me off at my hotel—”

  “Sure thing,” Mace agreed amiably. “I’ll do that—after the doc looks you over and says you’re good to go.”

  “I’m fine.” She was certainly persistent, not to say stubborn, but this time, she’d met her match. He was as bullheaded as they came.

  Mace shut the truck door without answering. Maybe she was right, and she really was okay, but he didn’t intend to take the chance, and he was tired of standing there in the rain, yammering.
br />   As soon as he was behind the wheel and under cover, the rain slowed to a drizzle.

  It figured.

  She was shivering, arms wrapped around her ribs, and staring bleakly through the rain-speckled windshield.

  Mace cranked up the heat, glad he’d left the engine running earlier, and looked over at her. Tried for a grin and fell short. “Hey,” he said gruffly, switching on the wipers to clear the windshield. “You’re safe with me, if that’s what you’re worried about. I might be a stranger, but I’m also one of the good guys.”

  She glanced at him curiously. “But you’re not a stranger.”

  So, he’d been right. This wasn’t their first encounter.

  Damned if he could recall where and when they’d crossed paths before, though. And that was odd, because even wet and bedraggled and more rattled than she probably thought she was, she wasn’t the kind of woman a man forgot.

  “I’m not?” he asked, checking the mirrors before making a wide turn and heading back toward Mustang Creek.

  She sighed, rested her head against the side window. She sounded almost wistful when she responded. “You don’t remember?”

  “I know we’ve met someplace,” he replied. “But that’s all I’ve got at the moment.”

  There was a long, slightly forlorn pause. Another sigh. “Maybe we could talk about old times another day,” she said at last, seeming to shrink into herself. “I’m so tired.”

  Normally, Mace wasn’t the type to put things off, but he wasn’t going to press for particulars. Not yet, anyhow.

  “Just don’t fall asleep,” he said.

  “Why not?” she asked with another sigh and a small yawn. “I’ve had a long, hard day.”

  “Because you might’ve hit your head.”

  She opened her mouth, obviously intending to protest, but then she must have thought better of it. Or maybe she was too exhausted to put up an argument.