Special Delivery Baby

Instant Daddy

An abandoned baby is the last thing town founder Will Canfield expects on his doorstep. He’s not the father—and the mother’s unknown. But the precious little girl needs a protector. And Will never backs down from a challenge, even if it means caring for a newborn...or dealing with spitfire cattle driver Tomasina Stone.

With her father gone, Tomasina’s trail life has ended. Yet becoming a polished city lady feels far out of her reach. All she wants is a place where she’ll be appreciated, respected...maybe loved. And the more time she spends helping Will care for the baby, the more she wonders if she’s found it. She’s never wanted to settle down...but Cowboy Creek—by Will’s side—might finally give her heart a lasting home.

Cowboy Creek: Bringing mail-order brides, and new beginnings, to a Kansas boomtown

“Well, if it isn’t Daddy Canfield. Taking your baby for a walk again, I see.”

There was something awfully endearing about a man strolling through the stockyards with a babe in his arms. She’d seen little softness from the men in her life. She’d always had to work harder, ride longer and take more licks than the men. A woman in a man’s job always had something to prove.

He jabbed her poster with the tip of his cane. “This Texas Tom person cannot stage a rodeo show in town,” he declared. “Those posters will have to be removed immediately.”

“I don’t know who put a burr under your saddle, Daddy Canfield, but you sure are a cranky fellow. Maybe fatherhood doesn’t suit you.”

“Fatherhood suits me fine.” He shook his head. “I told you before, I’m not a father. This isn’t my baby.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Canfield. But you sure are getting comfortable with that babe in your arms.”

“I’ll speak with Texas Tom myself. When you see your boss, tell him I’m looking for him.”

“I might be able to save you some time,” Tomasina declared with a wink. “I’m Texas Tom.”

* * *

Cowboy Creek: Bringing mail-order brides, and new beginnings, to a Kansas boomtown.

Want Ad Wedding—Cheryl St.John, April 2016

Special Delivery Baby—Sherri Shackelford, May 2016 Bride by Arrangement—Karen Kirst, June 2016

SHERRI SHACKELFORD is an award-winning author of inspirational books featuring ordinary people discovering extraordinary love. A reformed pessimist, Sherri has a passion for storytelling. Her books are fast-paced and heartfelt with a generous dose of humor. She loves to hear from readers at [email protected]. Visit her website at sherrishackelford.com.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

He hath inclosed my ways with hewn stone,

He hath made my paths crooked.

—Lamentations 3:9

To my fellow authors in the series, Cheryl St.John and Karen Kirst, for making this continuity series such a wonderful experience. I hope we can revisit Cowboy Creek in the future!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

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

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Kansas, May 1868

Four thousand head of longhorn cattle parading through the center of town kicked up quite a ruckus. Three stories below, countless hooves rumbled over Eden Street, shaking the foundation of the Cattleman Hotel. Above Will Canfield’s desk the chandelier swayed, the dangling crystals striking a discordant rhythm. The quaking sent a rippling bull’s-eye over his coffee.

A knot settled in the pit of Will’s stomach. The cattle drive filled him with a mixture of jubilation and dread. Jubilation because tomorrow the town would reap the financial benefits of thriving stockyards. Dread because cowboys fresh off the trail were known for their carousing and brawling. After four years serving in the Union Army, Will’s instincts had propelled him to the rank of captain. The war might be over, but he’d learned to trust his gut. Trouble was coming with this bunch. The drovers were two weeks late, which meant those boys would be chomping at the bit.

The sheriff would have his hands full keeping the peace tonight.

A thin keening sound filtered through the commotion; a mournful squalling like the bleating of a baby goat. Will cocked his head toward the door, hearing only the muted roar of the funeral-slow procession below. His ledger vibrated, and the sharp steel nib of his fountain pen jumped. With a sound of frustration he capped his inkwell. He’d finish the accounts later.

By now most of the town had lined the streets for the astounding spectacle. A new band of drovers meant an infusion of cash, and merchants treated their arrival as a celebration. Earlier, Will had caught the fading refrain of a cowboy band playing “Sweet Nightingale” on dulcimer and fiddle.