âYouâre flirting with me? Why?â
Caleb debated for a moment before answering. But then he reminded himself he was in Colorado. People were forthright around here. And he owed Mandy no less than she was giving him.
âBecause youâre real,â he told her. âWhen you laugh, itâs because youâre happy. When you argue, itâs because you have a point to make. And when your eyes smolder, itâs because youâre interested in me.â
âIâm not interested in you.â
âBut you are.â He smoothed a stray lock of her hair and tucked it behind one ear. âThatâs whatâs so amazing about you. Your body language doesnât lie.â
âAnd if my body language slaps you across the face?â
âI hope itâll be because Iâve done something to deserve it.â Because then the slap would be worth it.
Dear Reader,
Welcome to the first book of the COLORADO CATTLE BARONS series from Desire. I have a deep fondness for cowboy heroes, and this series will allow me to indulge myself by writing a whole string of them.
In book one, millionaire Caleb Terrell returns to his familyâs Colorado ranch, following the death of his abusive father. There, he meets sexy, down-to-earth neighbor Mandy Jacobs, the key to finding Calebâs missing twin brother, Reed. While Mandy opens the door to painful childhood memories, she also shows Caleb the pathway to love and forgiveness.
I sincerely hope you enjoy A Cowboy Comes Home. And I hope youâll look for Calebâs brother, Reed, along with Mandyâs siblings, in future COLORADO CATTLE BARONS books. Iâd love to hear from you, so please feel free to drop me a line through my website, barbaradunlop.com.
Barbara Dunlop
Dust plumes scattered beneath Caleb Terrellâs loafers as he approached the front steps of his former home, looking for the brother whoâd despised him for ten long years. A copy of his late fatherâs will was snapped into his Bulgari briefcase, and a million, disturbing questions swirled inside his brain. The Terrell Cattle Company hadnât changed much. The two-story brick house had been meticulously maintained, while the crisp, northern-Colorado mountain air still held the familiar tang of wheatgrass and ponderosa pine.
The soles of his shoes met the smooth wood of the wide, front porch, and for a fleeting moment he wished heâd stopped in Lyndon and changed into blue jeans and boots. But he banished the impulse. He was a businessman now, not a cowboy. And the last thing he wanted to do was feel at home.
His brother, Reed, wouldnât be remotely happy to see him, but outrageous times called for outrageous measures. Reed would have to deal with it.
Caleb briefly toyed with the idea of bursting in unannounced. He owned the place, after all, and Reed had been dodging his calls for over a week. To be fair, Caleb hadnât tried to contact his fraternal twin brother in ten years. Then again, in all that time, Reed hadnât tried to contact Caleb, either.
But now, their father was dead. Caleb wouldnât have set foot on the Terrell ranch in any other circumstance. Heâd probably have been shot if heâd tried. Which made the contents of the will that much more baffling.
He gave three short, sharp knocks.
In the moments of silence that followed, he glanced around the ranch yard, refreshing his memory and bracing himself for the conversation to come.
The main barn had been recently painted a dark green. The square horse corrals were still meticulously maintained, their straight rails gleaming white in the afternoon sunshine. He knew every angle was precisely ninety degrees, and the posts were exactly six feet apart, rail centers at twenty-four-inch intervals.
Beyond the yard, black angus cattle dotted the summer green, hillside meadows between groves of aspen and pine. And the snowy peaks of the Rockies rose up to the misty sky. Caleb blinked against the blinding sun, refocusing closer in.
Half a dozen pickup trucks were backed up in formation in front of the equipment sheds. A freshly washed combine, cultivator and hay truck sat on the far side of the barn, and a few dozen chickens were pecking the ground around the tires. In one of the pens, a black horse whinnied and bucked, tossing its glossy mane as it ran the length of the enclosure before stopping short at the fence, nostrils flaring in annoyance.
Caleb didnât recognize the animal. No surprise there. Though there had been a time when heâd been able to name every one of the fifty plus horses at Terrell. He inhaled once more, this time catching the sharp scent of manure. His spine stiffened with a latent memory of his fatherâs quick temper. Yeah, most things had stayed the same around here, and he didnât care to revisit any of them.