âNo,â Christie said, hoping she sounded more certain than she felt. âNot now. Not tonightâ¦â
âWhy?â
âBecause thereâs too much unresolved between us.â
âThis might be a good opportunity to resolve some of those issues,â Cal said, no longer kissing her skin but still holding her tightly against his hard body and the soft couch.
âI donât think making love will resolve anything. I think it will just make our lives more complicated and confusing.â
Cal moaned against her shoulder, âYou think too much, Christie.â
She pushed and he levered himself away. She scooted off the couch, her shorts and top badly crumpled and her emotions in a jumble. âSomeone has to think for both of us,â she said as she flipped her hair out of her eyes. âIâm going to bedâalone.â
Dear Reader,
Iâve learned, in the past thirty-four years Iâve lived here, that Texas is a state rich in honor and tradition, especially among the original settlers and ranching families. Sometimes, such devotion to principle might even be seen as stubbornness.
The men of the Crawford family of Brodyâs Crossing are single-minded in their convictions. When I wrote Troy Crawfordâs story, Temporarily Texan, I knew I had to write his older brother Calâs story, as well. Calâs family traditions and his personal history shaped him more than most heroes Iâve âmetâ in the more than twenty books Iâve written. Of course, Cal deserves (and gets!) a very independent, smart and caring woman in Christina Simmons. He thought she was special when they spent two daysâand nightsâtogether in Fort Worth before his military service in Afghanistan, but knew she could be only a weekend fling. That was before he returned to find the consequences of their actions.
I hope you enjoy Christie and Calâs story. And if you think these are the last of the Crawfords, donât be surprised if the brothers discover one more family secret in the upcoming months. I would love to hear from you via my Web site, www.victoriachancellor.com. Have a wonderful summer filled with your own discoveries, and I hope youâll look for more BRODYâS CROSSING stories beginning in December, when the townâs mayor, Toni Casale, is reunited with her former love, the dashing and successful Wyatt McCall.
Victoria Chancellor
Victoria Chancellor married a visiting Texan in her home state of Kentucky thirty-five years ago, and has lived in the Lone Star State for thirty-two years after a brief stay in Colorado. Her household includes her husband, four cats, a very spoiled miniature pinscher, an atrium full of tortoises, turtles and toads, and lots of visiting wild critters. Last year she was blessed with both a new son-in-law and a granddaughter. Her former careers include fine jewelry sales, military security and financial systems analysis. She would love to hear from you via her Web site, www.victoriachancellor.com, or P.O. Box 852125, Richardson, TX 75085-2125.
To my editor, Kathleen Scheibling,
for making my books better, and for her patience with my sometimes humorous and embarrassing errors of omission.
Acknowledgments
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
Epilogue
Thanks to SSG Kenneth Marion, U.S. Army, Plano,
Texas, for his help with the army reserves and active duty details. Any errors or literary license are mine.
Also, thanks to Beverly Brown
of the Lucky B Ranch in College Station, Texas, for her help understanding and appreciating bison, and for all bison ranchers and organizations who have useful information on their Web sites.
Christie Simmons put her Cadillac SRX into Park but didnât turn off the engine. She didnât plan to get out of the car unless a certain tall, tan, brown-haired rancher exited the ranch house and asked what the heck she was doing on his property.
She waited, but no one came out. Which meant he probably wasnât home yet.
But he was coming home, any day now. Thatâs what his brotherâs fiancée had told her on the phone yesterday. Thatâs what the nice waitress at the café in town had told her. Christie knew small towns had very active grapevines. By now, theyâd probably be buzzing with news that a blond âcity girlâ had been asking about Cal Crawford.
A blond city girl with a nine-month-old baby, Christie corrected herself, turning to look at the rear-facing car seat. She could only see his cute little face in the special infant mirror attached to the backseat. Peter slept as he usually did when she drove long distancesâjust like a baby. If she stayed parked here too long, though, heâd awaken and want a bottle, some attention or his diaper changed. Maybe all three. Sheâd rather find a place to stay before Peter started fussing. A bed-and-breakfast, or even a motel would do, as long as it was clean and safe.