LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter One

      Carly Rayburn was back in town. Not that there’d been any big announcements, but news traveled fast in Brighton Valley. And even if it didn’t, not much got past Ian McAllister.

      She’d had a singing gig in San Antonio, but apparently that hadn’t panned out for her, which was too bad. She had a dream to make it big in country music someday, a dream Ian no longer had. But he couldn’t fault her for that.

      Jason, her oldest brother, said she’d be staying on the Leaning R for a while, which wasn’t a surprise. It seemed to Ian that she came home to the ranch whenever her life hit a snag. So that’s what she would do, right after attending Jason’s wedding in town.

      As the foreman of the Leaning R, Ian had been invited to the ceremony and reception, but he’d graciously declined and sent a gift instead. The only people attending were family and a few close friends, so Ian would have felt out of place—for more reasons than one. So he’d remained on the ranch.

      Now, as darkness settled over Brighton Valley, he did what he often did in the evenings after dinner. He sat on the front porch of his small cabin and enjoyed the peaceful evening sounds, the scent of night-blooming jasmine and the vast expanse of stars in the Texas sky.

      The Leaning R had been in Carly’s family for years. It was run-down now, but it had great potential. It was also the perfect place for Ian to hide out, where people only knew him as a quiet cowboy who felt more comfortable around livestock than the bright lights of the big cities. And thanks to his granddaddy, who’d once owned a respectable spread near Dallas, that was true.

      He glanced at the Australian shepherd puppy nestled in his lap. The sleepy pooch yawned, then stretched and squirmed.

      “What’s the matter, Cheyenne?” He stroked her black-and-white furry head. “Is your snooze over?”

      When the pup gave a little yip, Ian set her down and watched as she padded around the wooden flooring, taking time to sniff at the potted geranium on the porch, her stub of a tail wagging. Then she waddled down the steps.

      “Don’t wander off too far,” he told her. “It’s dark out there, and you’re still getting the lay of the land.”

      The pup glanced at him, as if she understood what he was saying, then trotted off.

      Ian loved dogs. He’d grown up with several of them on his granddad’s ranch, but after he’d moved out on his own, he hadn’t been able to have one until now. Fortunately, his life was finally lining up the way he’d always hoped it would. Once the Leaning R went on the market,

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