Winning The Rancher's Heart
A NEW BEGINNINGNaomi Jones is ready to shake things up. The widowed single mom and her kids need a big change, so she drives across the country to start her new life. But starting over doesn’t mean getting involved with her handsome boss, Jaxton Stone. Though Naomi enjoys teasing a smile from the gruff rancher’s lips, she’s not sure her broken heart can ever love again.As an ex-soldier, Jax lives by precise, regimented order…until Naomi arrives at the Dark Horse Ranch and complicates everything. Along with the chaos, the feisty redhead and her children bring fun back to Jax’s life. She may be his total opposite, but Jax can’t stay away from the woman who makes his ranch feel like home.
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A NEW BEGINNING
Naomi Jones is ready to shake things up. The widowed single mom and her kids need a big change, so she drives across the country to start her new life. But starting over doesnât mean getting involved with her handsome boss, Jaxton Stone. Though Naomi enjoys teasing a smile from the gruff rancherâs lips, sheâs not sure her broken heart can ever love again.
As an ex-soldier, Jax lives by precise, regimented order...until Naomi arrives at the Dark Horse Ranch and complicates everything. Along with the chaos, the feisty redhead and her children bring fun back to Jaxâs life. She may be his total opposite, but Jax canât stay away from the woman who makes his ranch feel like home.
âYouâre a good man, Jaxton Stone.â Naomi sniffled.
No, he wasnât. He was having all kinds of inappropriate thoughts about her. Wondered what she would do if he bent and brushed her lips with his own. But he couldnât. Damn it all, he just couldnât.
âSometimes,â he said, âdoing whatâs right for everyone takes a huge leap of faith, but I promise you, it will all work out all right in the end.â
She turned to face him and he warned himself not to move. Not to stare at her lips. Not to lean in close to her. It was the hardest thing in the world to let her go.
âYouâre a good mum,â he heard himself say, forcing himself to relax. âHave faith. Trust your heart. Itâll never lead you astray.â
She peered up at him, blue eyes wide, her hair spilling around her shoulders, and he felt himself falling... falling...
âGood night.â
He ran.
With more than a million books in print, PAMELA BRITTON likes to call herself the best-known author nobodyâs ever heard of. Of course, that changed thanks to a certain licensing agreement with that little racing organization known as NASCAR.
But before the glitz and glamour of NASCAR, Pamela wrote books that were frequently voted the best of the best by the Detroit Free Press, Barnes & Noble (two years in a row) and RT Book Reviews. Sheâs won numerous awards, including a National Readersâ Choice Award and a nomination for the Romance Writers of America Golden Heart® Award.
When not writing books, Pamela is a reporter for a local newspaper. Sheâs also a columnist for the American Quarter Horse Journal.
Dedicated to my darling Lysy Loo,
the daughter of my heart. We love you, Alysa Panks.
Contents
âIs this it?â T.J. asked, his left elbow brushing her own as her son wiggled on the old Fordâs front bench seat.
Naomi Jones stared at the sign hanging above the dirt road, clenching her palms against the sweat that formed.
Dark Horse Ranch.
âYes.â She sighed. âThis is it.â
âIt doesnât look like much of a ranch,â said her other child from her shotgun position. Samantha sounded about as enthusiastic as a dental patient about to undergo a root canal, but these days her teenage daughter didnât sound enthusiastic about anything.
She had a point, though, Naomi admitted, but she knew from experience you couldnât see much of the place from the road. Just a bunch of valley oaks dotting the acreage and the needle-straight line of a road, one that headed toward some low-lying foothills not too far in the distance. It was dusk and the sun had just started to set behind the hills. The dew point had risen and it released the scent of herbs in the air.
New life, new beginnings, she reminded herself.
Goodness knows sheâd made a mess of the old one. Not at first. At first it had been heaven on earth. But then Trevor had died and everything had changed, and not for the better. These days Samantha was either a perfect princess or perfectly horrible. It was clear she needed to rein her in. And T.J. Poor T.J. had been bullied since his first day of elementary school. She hoped like heck the move would help.
Here we go.
Her old truck rattled forward. Someone had hit her pickup in the back and taken off without leaving a note. She didnât have the money to fix it, so duct tape held parts of the bumper together. She should probably have it fixed before it flew off on the freeway or something, but that was what this move to California was all about, too. A good-paying job. A place to liveâfor free. And, once she sold her home in Georgia, money in the bank.
âWow,â T.J. said.
Sheâd been so deep in thought she hardly noticed their surroundings. She looked up at her sonâs gasp of amazement and spotted it. Beyond the oak trees, nestled into a craggy hillside, stood a house. A very big house.
âI know, right?â she said, guiding the old truck toward the redwood-and-glass monstrosity. It should look out of place in the middle of the country and yet the home seemed to have sprouted from the very rocks it sat upon. Sheâd watched enough shows about architecture on television to know itâd been designed by a naturalist, someone who wanted it to look indigenous to the landscape, and had probably cost a small fortune.
