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Claiming the Maverick's Heart
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CLAIMING THE MAVERICK’S HEART BY DEBRA HOLT
Published by Bling! Romance
an imprint of Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas
2333 Barton Oaks Dr., Raleigh, NC 27614
ISBN: 978-1-946016-05-8
Copyright © 2016 by Debra Holt
Interior design by AtriTex
Cover design by Elaina Lee
Available in print from your local bookstore, online, or from the publisher at:
www.lighthousepublishingofthecarolinas.com
For more information on this book and the author visit:
www.DebraHoltBooks.com
All rights reserved. Noncommercial interests may reproduce portions of this book without the express written permission of Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas, provided the text does not exceed 500 words. When reproducing text from this book, include the following credit line: “Claiming the Maverick’s Heart by Debra Holt, published by Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas. Used by permission.”
Commercial interests: No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by the United States of America copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination or are used for fictional purposes. Any mentioned brand names, places, and trademarks remain the property of their respective owners, bear no association with the author or the publisher, and are used for fictional purposes only.
Brought to you by the creative team at Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas:
Marisa Deshaies, Managing Editor, Bling! Romance
Rachel F. Overton, General Editor
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Holt, Debra.
Claiming the Maverick’s Heart/Debra Holt 1st ed.
Printed in the United States of America.
PRAISE FOR CLAIMING THE
MAVERICK’S HEART
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Words of thanks never seem adequate on some occasions. This is such a time. An author has the idea, writes the words on paper or computer, and then goes through the agony of getting someone to believe in their work and take a chance on it. I was lucky and blessed when LPC and Bling! came into my writing life.
My sincerest thanks to Eddie Jones and Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas for the opportunity to have a second book published by them under the Bling! Romance imprint.
No words to describe how amazing it has been working with Meaghan Burnett, marketing guru for LPC/Bling. This is our second book together for LPC and she has taken great care of my books and me.
To Rachel Overton, the most amazing and hard-nosed and dedicated editor ever! I have learned so much along the way and hope to work with you again on other projects in other places. You helped put the shine on my stories and have always been a cheerleader and I never forget that.
To Marisa Deshaies, who came in and carried Bling! forward and is doing a superb job of that. You have been kind and helpful and taken care of the sweet romance that is Claiming the Maverick’s Heart.
Last, but not least, thank you family and friends who understand now the phrases, “I am editing” or “I am writing” or “I have a deadline” and don’t get upset when I can’t make a lunch or a movie because my characters are holding me hostage. You are the wind beneath these writer’s wings!
DEDICATION
Dedication pages are often difficult. When one writes a book, searches for a home for it, and then goes through all the myriad of steps necessary for its eventual birth for readers, there are always those wonderful people along the way who contribute … in large ways, small ways, etc. I also worry about leaving someone out, overlooking a kindness, or just being plain forgetful. By the time I reach the end of a manuscript, my mind is mush.
Sometimes blessings are overlooked in our lives or taken for granted. Often times we can be blind to them. On this writing journey of mine, I have been blessed with some people along the way who have kept me going, cheered me on, been my sounding boards when things were not going as I had planned, and were simply ‘there’ when needed to lend a helping hand or ear, maybe some laughter to stave off the tears, some sage advice when most needed, or computer expertise when I was opening the window to toss the whole thing outside!
So this dedication is my way of saying THANKS to two special ladies who keep me laughing, keep me sane, and keep technology in one piece for the duration of a book’s birth through its launch. Ja’Net Ross and Emily Gifford … this one’s for you both! It comes with heartfelt thanks for being there. You support others’ dreams, and I hope each and every one of yours comes true for you.
Claiming the Maverick’s Heart is a story of the fine line between the choices of redemption or retribution, and second chances. Second chances can often bring the greatest gifts of all, especially when least expected. As always, my hope is that this story touches something in your heart and leaves you with a smile.
Happy reading and much blessings to you and yours,
Debra
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
A Gift for You
Thank you for investing in this book. As a thank you, LPC Books would love to offer you advance review Kindle copies of our forthcoming books. These Kindle ebooks will be delivered to your Kindle reader. We release around 40 books a year. You pick which ones you wish to receive. Visit the link below to sign up for our FREE Kindle ebook subscriber list:
http://lighthousepublishingofthecarolinas.com/free-ebook/
Chapter 1
“He’s back!”
Macy Donovan didn’t need to ask who he was. She knew. As sure as the sun would set at the end of the day, she knew. The day she’d first longed for and then dreaded had finally arrived. No fanfare, no marching band, no warning—just two little words: “He’s back.”
Trace Cartwright. World champion bronc rider…ex-fiancé…first-class heel.
“Did you hear what I said?” The woman behind the pharmacy counter repeated her whispered words, careful not to broadcast the news to any other shopper within earshot.
“I heard,” Macy responded, keeping her eyes on the list in her hands, double-checking it, but not really seeing the words printed there. “I’ll need to come back later for the refills for Molly Watson. I promised Mrs. Ellis I would stop by Elmo’s and pick up some of his cherry tomatoes. He sells out fast, so I need to get over there.”
“Why don’t I have Monty run the refills to Mrs. Watson for you? He has to go right by her house on the way to pick up Davy from his scout meeting.”
Macy considered the offer. It would help her out on a day that already held too few hours. She nodded her head. “That would be a big help if you’re sure it wouldn’t be an inconvenience. I’ve got a new horse coming in this afternoon, and I do need to get some work done before its arrival.”
“No problem. You know, Macy, you need to think about taking some time away for yourself. You never sit still for more than two seconds. If you aren’t busy with the ranch and your own business, then you’re out helping one of your neighbors. When was the last time you actually took a vacation away from Cartwright’s Crossing?”
“Your grandma was quite a philosopher. I miss her and her country wisdom … and her buttermilk pie.” A grin amplified the last words of her comment.
Macy nodded and smiled along with her. There was a lot to miss about Gram, and a tight squeeze circled around her heart. A little more than a year had passed, but that wasn’t enough time to temper the loss. She doubted that even twenty years would alleviate the emptiness her grandmother’s passing had left. A wildfire had trapped and killed Macy’s parents on a second-honeymoon camping trip when she was twelve, but Gram had raised her, loved her, and taught her for the next sixteen years. And then, one Sunday morning while sitting in her rocking chair, looking out over her garden, Gram had left her. Macy had found her, a peaceful smile still on her face, while the doves came and went at the birdfeeders and playful kittens raced through petunias in the flower beds. It had been a picture-perfect morning, just the kind her grandmother loved.
Shoving away the memories, Macy drew her shoulder bag more securely over her arm. She had too much to do to get bogged down in a pity party.
“Okay. I’ve gotta run. See you later, Emily. Please tell Monty I owe him big time for taking those refills to Mrs. Watson for me.” The last words floated over her shoulder as the bell on the pharmacy door chimed her retreat.
The day was heating up. It looked to be another record-breaker in their part of the Texas Hill Country, and it was only mid-May. The hills were high, the canyons deep, and, thanks to the springs that kept it replenished, the river refreshingly cold. The frigid water and inviting, picturesque countryside brought tourists in droves during the summer months. Locals learned to cope with the added throngs along the highways and tourist-filled cabins and motels for those three months or so. September would come, and peace would settle over their valley once more. Macy endured the influx with the rest of the inhabitants of Cartwright’s Crossing. It was a small enough price to pay to live in a little corner of heaven on earth on a year-round basis.
Making quick time of stopping at Elmo’s Roadside Market, she collected a sack full of his sweetest apples, a bag of the plumpest cherry tomatoes for Mrs. Ellis—along with a smaller container for herself—some green grapes, and a small watermelon. She was paying for the fruit when those dreaded words came again.
“Guess you know—he’s come back home.” This time it was Elmo, using that same poorly concealed tone of sympathy that was already grating on her nerves.
“So I’ve heard.” Macy had steeled herself for the inevitable since leaving the pharmacy. She’d zoomed through the Burger Barn’s drive-thru for her usual breakfast taco earlier and endured a look of pity from Ja’Net Nevins. Now it was Elmo’s turn. This was small-town gossip at its finest. She knew they all meant well, but she wished this day had never come. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t had a few years to practice how she’d handle it if and when he did return … but practice was one thing; reality was quite another.
Macy carefully counted out the exact currency, keeping her facial expression as noncommittal as possible. Gathering her items in her arms, she flashed a smile at the elderly gentleman she had known all her life. She tried not to let his concerned look get to her. Instead, she concentrated on making a quick exit. “Have a good one, Elmo. Tell Connie hi for me when you talk to her again.”
“I’ll do that, Macy. You take care. Keep your chin up, girl.”
The man’s words echoed in her mind as she pulled back onto the highway, heading toward Mrs. Ellis’s. You take care … almost like he was warning her. I’m reading too much into a simple sentence. Or am I? It was much the same tone she’d heard underpinning Emily’s words at the pharmacy. Everyone in town had to know by now that the infamous Trace Cartwright was back. Apparently, the highlight of the day was envisioning how she’d react to the return of the hometown big shot. Well, they were in for a shock … and a letdown … if they thought the news would have her falling to pieces. Nope, there’s not a snowball’s chance anywhere of that happening. She had no tears to shed over someone who no longer existed as far as she was concerned. The sooner everyone got over expecting her to react in some dramatic fashion, the better it would be for all of them. Then they could put someone else in their crosshairs of pity and town gossip. She had fought to overcome all that a long time ago, and she wasn’t going back now.
“There you are, you sweet thing, you.” Mrs. Ellis greeted Macy cheerily as she approached the woman’s house with the sack of groceries a few minutes later. The elderly woman had parked her wheelchair in a shady spot on her porch, and a bright smile lit her face. “I don’t know what I would do without your thoughtfulness. Being stuck in this contraption while my leg heals is so aggravating. And I have another two weeks to go.”
Macy followed the woman into her house and to the kitchen. She emptied the small bag, placing the fruit and tomatoes on the table. “Don’t worry about it,” she replied. “I have the time and don’t mind doing it. You do what your doctor tells you to do so your leg mends as it should. I know your friends are missing you at bingo.”
“I’m missing them, too. I hear Molly Watson’s been winning the majority of the games. I’m not there to give her competition.” The woman laughed at her own comment. Then her smile turned downward into one of sympathy.
“I know things must be difficult for you right now, Macy. I wish I wasn’t in this chair for that reason, too. I’d give that Cartwright boy a good swift kick in the behind for coming back here and upsetting you.”
Not her, too. “Really, Mrs. Ellis, he doesn’t bother me at all. I got over all that a long time ago. I couldn’t care less that he’s come back to town. Besides, I’m sure he won’t be here for long. He loves those bright lights of the big cities too much … or so I imagine.” Macy was proud that she could sound so matter-of-fact.
“Well, all the same … you keep your chin up and don’t let him bother you at all.”
“Yes, ma’am. That’s good advice, and I plan to do just that,” she assured the woman. “I’ve got to get home, but I’ll check in with you next week and see if you need anything then.”
She returned the woman’s wave as she climbed in and started her truck, then put it into gear. Her smile stayed on her face until she turned the corner. Darn that man! Did everyone in town know about his return? Silly … of course they do. He’s a Cartwright. There was no escaping that fact. She was tempted to go find him and get that awkwardness out of the way. Maybe then the townspeople would let it go. Maybe. She needed to get back to the ranch. She hoped Jeb had managed to start the additional fencing she wanted on one of the stallion stalls while she’d run her errands. It would help with the time crunch she was under. As Macy passed the post office, about to turn off the main road toward home, her eyes caught sight of a familiar figure standing on the sidewalk, talking to the sheriff and Maggie Miller, editor of the town’s weekly newspaper. Without warning, her heart dropped straight to the toes of her boots, followed by an electric shock like a cattle prod to the heart.
All that from just a glance? It was only a swift glimpse, but Macy didn’t need more. The broad shoulders and lean hips hadn’t changed … and neither had the cocky set of the black Stetson. The man was more than a head taller than anyone around him; his straight-backed stature was a distinctive Cartwright trait, as were the green eyes inherited from his Irish mother. Macy couldn’t see his eyes from that distance, but she didn’t need to. They were forever etched in her memory. Wiping first one sweaty palm and then the other on the legs of her jeans, she increased her grip on the steering wheel while her insides continued their gymnastics. Are you serious? Stop it! Get hold of yourself. He’s nobody to you anymor
e. She absolutely would not give in again to any ridiculous reactions to a man who was lower than a snake’s belly.
She had no time for such an intrusion into her well-run life. “Okay, so maybe things don’t go smoothly all the time, but it’s my life.” Now the man had her talking out loud to herself! She locked her jaw in hard determination. She had managed to build a business and a new life for herself. The most rewarding part was that she was making a name for herself, training champion barrel-racing horses. She had fashioned her life on her own with no help from anyone else, despite being jilted at the altar by the hometown prodigal son … evidently now returned in all his glory.
Of course, the odds of avoiding a face-to-face with the man were not in her favor, given the size of the town. She’d already had more than enough of the pitying glances of her friends and neighbors, opening wounds that should have been sealed forever after ten years. Macy did not intend to walk on eggshells every day, waiting for the inevitable to happen.
Well, she was a take-charge kinda gal now, wasn’t she? The girl Trace Cartwright had left behind would have shrunk away into a dark corner to lick her wounds. But that’s not who she was anymore. Her eyes flew to the rearview mirror. Then her brain took over, and she spun the truck into a U-turn at the end of Main Street … good thing the sheriff was looking the other way. The element of surprise was on her side, and she would use it. She could hear her grandmother’s voice telling her to take the bull by the horns. Now or never. Go big or go home, Macy girl.
A parking spot had opened up in front of the post office, directly in front of the trio that still stood talking in the center of the covered walkway. A bit of divine help? It was midmorning, and the fair number of local inhabitants coming and going from the building made the timing perfect for optimum gossip exposure. This should set the tongues wagging for the next two days at least! Switching off the engine, Macy took a deep breath before she stepped from the truck, a big smile plastered to her face and her head held high. It was just another Saturday morning in Cartwright’s Crossing, Texas. Full steam ahead.
Claiming the Maverick's Heart