Texas Rebels: Phoenix
THE COWBOY’S LAST RIDEOnce he gets over the shock of finding out he’s a father, Phoenix Rebel is ready to do right by his toddler son. The gorgeous barrel racer he runs into on the circuit could add a much-needed woman’s touch. There’s just one problem. She’s a McCray—a Rebel’s worst enemy.Rosemary could gaze into Phoenix’s warm brown eyes forever. And helping the sexy bull rider and his adorable two-year-old has ignited a fierce yearning in Rosie. Somehow she and Phoenix have to find a way to create their own family—even if it means leaving everyone else they love behind…
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Kate Rebel: Matriarch of the Rebel family.
Falcon: The oldest sonâthe strong one. Reunited with his wife, Leah, and proud father of Eden and John.
Egan: The loner. Married to Rachel Hollister, daughter of the man who put him in jail.
Quincy: The peacemaker. Married to Jenny Walker, his childhood best friend.
Elias: The fighter. Falls in love with the archenemy of the familyâs daughter.
Paxton: The lover. Never met a woman he couldnât have, but the woman he wants doesnât want him.
Jude: The serious, responsible one. Back together with his first love, Paige Wheeler, and raising their son, Zane.
Phoenix: The wild one and the youngest. Heâs carefree until Child Protective Services says heâs the father of a small boy.
Abraham (Abe) Rebel: Paternal grandfather.
Jericho Johnson: Eganâs friend from prison.
A two-time RITA>® Awardânominated author, LINDA WARREN has written thirty-eight books for Mills & Boon and has received the Readersâ Choice Award, the Holt Medallion, the Booksellersâ Best Award, the Book Buyers Best Award, the Golden Quill and the RT Reviewersâ Choice Best Book Award. A native Texan, she is a member of Romance Writers of America and the West Houston chapter. She lives in College Station with her husband and a menagerie of animals, including a Canada goose named Broken Wing. You can learn more about Linda and her books at www.lindawarren.net.
To Christi Hendricksâfor organizing sixteen years of book signings.
A special thanks to Vanessa Carmona Hoke for taking the time to share her knowledge of the Department of Family and Protective Services.
And to Carrol Abendroth, barrel racer, for discussing the rodeo and barrel racing.
And to PRCA for all their information.
Contents
My name is Kate Rebel. I married John Rebel when I was eighteen years old and then bore him seven sons. We worked the family ranch, which John later inherited. We put everything we had into buying more land so our sons would have a legacy. We didnât have much, but we had love.
The McCray Ranch borders Rebel Ranch on the east and the McCrays have forever been a thorn in my familyâs side. Theyâve cut our fences, dammed up creeks to limit our water supply and shot one of our prize bulls. Ezra McCray threatened to shoot our sons if he caught them jumping his fences again. We tried to keep our boys away, but they are boysâyoung and wild.
One day Jude and Phoenix, two of our youngest, were out riding together. When John heard shots, he immediately went to find his boys. They lay on the ground, blood oozing from their heads. Ezra McCray was astride a horse twenty yards away with a rifle in his hand. John drew his gun and fired, killing Ezra instantly. Both boys survived with only minor wounds. Since my husband was protecting his children, he didnât spend even one night in jail. This escalated the feud that still goes on today.
The man I knew as my husband died that day. He couldnât live with what heâd done and started to drink heavily. I had to take over the ranch and the raising of our boys. John died ten years later. Weâve all been affected by the tragedy, especially my sons.
They are grown men now and deal in different ways with the pain of losing their father. One day I pray my boys will be able to put this behind them and live healthy, normal lives with women who will love them the way I loved their father.
Phoenix: the youngest sonâthe fun-loving one.
The cowboyâs last ride.
Phoenix Rebel had been called a lot of things, but heâd never been called daddy. Yet the lady sitting on his motherâs leather sectional with the grim reaper-like expression and thick wire-rimmed glasses seemed determined to pin that label on him.
He scooted forward in his chair, trying to pay attention and look like a mature adult because his mother was sitting right there staring at him. If there was anything he hated, it was having to account to his mother for his misdeeds.
Before any profound words could leave his throat, Ms. Henshaw removed an iPad from her briefcase and laid it on the coffee table, pushing it toward him with one long finger. She tapped the screen. A photo of a young woman appeared.
âThis is Valerie Green. Are you sure you donât know her?â
He studied the pretty, blue-eyed blonde. She looked vaguely familiar, but heâd seen girls like that all over the country as he traveled the rodeo circuit. How was he supposed to remember this one?
âSheâs from Denver, Colorado,â Ms. Henshaw added.
That triggered his memory. âYeah, I met Valerie at a rodeo almost three years ago, I think. Iâm not clear on the time. We hooked up for a wild weekend after the rodeo.â
