Not His First Rodeo
Sheriff Brennan Connelly knows he should avoid anything that could hint at scandal while heâs running for reelection, such as falling for a gorgeous young widow. But despite the age difference and the political risks, Bren and Lauren Danners share a remarkable connection. And as he coaches her young son in the rodeo, the former Green Beret is drawn ever closer to her.
Lauren Danners may be young, but sheâs long past the age of swooning over devastatingly handsome men. And Bren Connelly may be handsome, but Lauren has had her fill of men in dangerous jobs. To protect her sonâand her heartâshe tries to keep Bren at armâs length. But whenever sheâs around him, all she wants is to be in his arms!
âIs it unlocked?â Lauren glanced toward his truck.
In response Bren moved to the passenger side and opened it. She hadnât had a man open the door for her inâ¦well, a long, long time.
âThanks.â
He nodded. She had to look away.
Great. Less than two minutes in his company and it was all she could do to look him in the eye. He caused her heart to pump at what felt like a million beats per minute.
âNeed help up?â he asked, holding out a supporting hand.
âNo, no.â
But he helped her anyway, his hand capturing her elbow and gently guiding her. She might have moved, but inside everything froze, her breathing, her heart, even her vision as she stared straight ahead. And then he let her go and she wilted into the cab of his truck, the door sealing with a pop.
Oh, dear Lord.
How would she ever make it through the next few hours?
Dear Reader,
Iâve spent a lot of time at junior rodeos, but not because I have a kid who likes to compete. Actually, I have a kid whoâs a junior rodeo queenâcomplete with the big silver crown.
Recently, as I watched my daughter proudly represent her rodeo, I spotted an anxious mom helping her steer-riding son, and I was grateful I didnât have to deal with that. I couldnât imagine watching my kid compete in such a dangerous sport. I found myself wondering if the woman was a single mom, and if so, how she managed on her own.
I love it when an idea for a book comes to me full-blown. Authors will tell you the âwhat ifâ game is how stories are born. I started thinking about that single mom, imagining that her life had been torn to shreds, yet sheâd made it through to the other side. That poor woman at that rodeo has no idea she was the inspiration for a romance novel.
Lauren Danners is my favorite kind of character. Smart. Driven. A great mom. Sheâs pulled herself up by her bootstraps and changed her life all on her own. She doesnât need tough-guy lawman Bren Connelly. Sheâs doing just fine. Or is she?
Youâll have to read the book to find out. As always, I hope you enjoy my grown-up-girl horse story. I always try to write about ranching and the animals I love. I hope you like reading about them. Drop me a line if youâre so inclined. Iâm on Facebook at Facebook.com/pamelabritton.
Pam
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 with heartfelt gratitude to all the men and women who protect this country.
Chapter One
Lauren Danners leaned against one of the five wooden columns that supported the rodeoâs announcerâs stand and tried not to hyperventilate. In front of herâa mere two feet awayâa young steer tried to jump out of a rodeo chute. A flurry of voices called, âWatch out, watch out,â around her, but she didnât look away. She had eyes only for the young boy intending to sit atop the steerâher ten-year-old son.
Please, God. Donât let him get hurt.
âYou know you could always watch from the grandstands,â said a man wearing a black cowboy hat and a commiserating smile. âYou could put your head between your legs up there if you feel like youâre gonna vomit.â
She pulled herself out from beneath a haze of panic to note the man had a gold star pinned to the front of his polo shirt, one with the word Sheriff clearly etched into the metal.