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entry, nodding at several cowboys, some who had been his competition. He immediately noticed all the young bucks crowded round the catch pens, eyeing him with awe like he was some sort of rodeo god. Those glory days were long gone and only remnants of the memories remained. But at least he’d left some sort of positive legacy to some kids since he’d probably never have any of his own.

      He climbed the steps two at a time and slid onto a wooden bench as a spectator, not a participant. That’s when he spotted her rounding the arena—a great-looking filly he knew all too well. A literal blast from his past. She was as flighty as a springtime moth, and as stubborn as a rusty gate. She could bring a man down with the swish of her tail. Austin should know. She’d brought him to his knees on more than one occasion. And even though several years had passed since he’d last seen her, he fondly recalled how she’d always given him a damn good ride.

      He shifted slightly as he watched her weave in and out of traffic, black mane flowing behind her in the breeze. She hadn’t lost her spirit, or her skill, or her ability to completely captivate him.

      Austin tensed when he noticed a gelding coming toward her, trying his best to buck off the cowboy on his back. If the filly didn’t slow down, move over, an equine wreck was imminent.

      No sooner than he’d thought it, it happened. The filly in question went one way, the mare she was riding went the other, and Georgie Romero, his black-maned, flighty, spirited first real girlfriend, ended up on the ground in a heap.

      A distant memory from his early childhood shot through Austin’s mind in response. The recollection of his own mother falling from her horse when he’d been too young to comprehend the consequences, or the impending loss. When he’d been too little to understand.

      That alone sent him on a sprint toward the arena in an effort to come to this woman’s rescue. He damn sure didn’t want to relive that tragedy.

      He hoped like hell this time he wasn’t too late.

      * * *

      When Georgia May Romero opened her eyes, she sensed a gathering crowd, but a pair of brown boots earned her immediate focus. She then noticed jean-encased legs and two large masculine hands resting casually on bent knees. And next—one very impressive, extremely big...belt buckle.

      Clearly she had died and gone to Cowboy Heaven.

      Her gaze traveled upward to take in the blue plaid shirt rolled up at the sleeves, revealing arms threaded with masculine veins and, above that, an open collar showing a slight hint of chest hair. She then visually journeyed to a whisker-shaded jaw surrounding a stellar mouth and an average nose with a slight indentation on the bridge. But there was nothing average about the midnight blue eyes. Devilish eyes. Familiar eyes. Surely not.

      “You okay, Georgie?”

      No, she’d died and gone to Cowgirl Hell.

      Shaking off her stupor, Georgie sat up and scrambled to her feet, silently cursing her bad luck and the man standing before her. The only man who could shake her to the core with only a smile. The man who’d changed her life six years ago, and he didn’t even know it. “Where’s my horse?”

      He pointed toward the outside of the arena. “Over there, tied to the rail. She’s a little bit shaken but she’s physically fine.”

      Only then did she venture another glance at her walking past, Austin Calloway. “Thanks,” she muttered. “She’s a two-year-old and still a little green. I brought her out to get used to the crowds. Obviously she’s not ready for competition.”

      He had the gall to grin. “I figured that much when she tossed you on your head. You fell pretty hard.”

      Oh, but she had...for him. Ancient history, one she didn’t dare repeat despite this chance meeting.

      Chance.

      She did a frantic search for the dark-haired, hazel-eyed boy who’d been the love of her life for the past five years, and thankfully spotted him still seated in the stands, holding cowboy court with a host of familiar men laughing at his antics. Andy Acosta, the middle-aged father of five, and horse trainer extraordinaire, sat at Chance’s side. Not only had Andy been a longtime hand on her family’s ranch, he happened to be one of the few people she trusted with her son.

      “Are you sure you’re okay, Georgie? No headache or double vision? Broken bones?”

      Just a pain in her keister. “I’m fine,” she said as she tore her gaze from her son to Austin and tried to appear calm. Having him learn of her own child’s existence, and the risk of prodding questions, was the last thing she needed at the moment. When she’d made the decision to move back to town to establish her veterinarian practice, she’d known she would have to tell him eventually, but she wanted to prolong that revelation until she’d had more time to prepare. Until she could gauge how he might react. Standing in a busy arena wasn’t an appropriate venue to deliver that bombshell.

      “You don’t look fine,” he said. “In fact, you look a little out of it.”

      She swept the dirt from her butt with her palms and frowned. “I assure you I’m okay. It’s not the first time I’ve been bucked off.”

      He took off his tan felt hat, forked a hand through his golden brown hair, then set it back on his head. “True. I remember that summer you broke your arm when you tried to ride your dad’s stallion.”

      Leave it to him to bring that up. “I remember when you broke your nose getting into a fight with Ralphie Jones over Hannah Alvarez.”

      He smiled again, throwing her for a mental loop. “Hey, he started it. Besides, I didn’t really like her all that much, and I was young and pretty stupid.”

      She’d been the same way at that time, and the price for her naivety had been high—losing her virginity to him. “Look, it’s been nice seeing you again, but I have to go.”

      He inclined his head and frowned. “How long are you going to be in town?”

      She considered lying but realized he would eventually learn the truth. At least one truth. “Indefinitely.”

      He looked shocked, to say the least. “You’re living here now?”

      “Yes.”

      “How long have you been back?”

      She wasn’t in the mood for a barrage of questions, although she did have one of her own. “A couple of weeks. Dallas didn’t tell you?”

      He scowled. “No. Dallas doesn’t tell me a damn thing. When did you see him?”

      “Actually, he called me after he learned I’ve taken over Doc Gordon’s practice. He asked me if I’d be the vet for the D Bar C, and this new venture you have in the works, although he didn’t exactly explain what that entails other than it involves livestock.”

      “We’re calling it Texas Extreme,” he said. “We’re starting a business that caters to people who want the whole cowboy experience. Roping and bull riding and all things rodeo, plus we’re considering a good old-fashioned trail ride.”

      Just what the Calloways needed—another business that would pad their pockets even more. “Interesting. I don’t think the ranch house is large enough to accommodate guests and your brothers, so I assume you’re going to put them in the bunkhouse.”

      “We’re in the process of building a lodge. And since you’ve been away awhile, you probably don’t know that we’ve all built our own houses. Or at least Dallas, Houston, Tyler, Worth and me. Fort won’t step foot on the place. He basically hates the entire family.”

      She recalled how upset Austin had been when he’d learned he had twin brothers, Forth and Worth, and a stepmother in Louisiana, thanks to a bigamist father who’d revealed all after his death. She also remembered how Austin had turned to her following the reading of the will, and his distress that had led to her providing comfort. If only she could forget that night, but she’d been left with a constant, precious reminder.

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