The Cowboy's Baby Bond
An Honorable CowboyDetermined single mother Willow Reames has one goal—to reunite with her sisters and begin a new life with them and her infant son. But when she’s unexpectedly stranded in the Montana wilderness—with her siblings nowhere in sight—she needs to rely on the kindness of Johnny Harding.It’s more than honor that compels the half-Native American cowboy to help the beautiful widow and her adorable baby. The little family evokes his masculine instincts to protect them. Soon woman-wary Johnny is cradling baby Adam in his arms and offering to assist Willow in finding her missing sisters. As their hearts slowly thaw, can Johnny convince Willow to trust him with the secret she’s keeping, so, just maybe, they can have a future together?Montana Cowboys: These brothers live and love by the code of the West
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An Honorable Cowboy
Determined single mother Willow Reames has one goal: to reunite with her sisters and begin a new life with them and her infant son. But when sheâs unexpectedly stranded in the Montana wildernessâwith her siblings nowhere in sightâshe needs to rely on the kindness of Johnny Harding.
Itâs more than honor that compels the half Native American cowboy to help the beautiful widow and her adorable baby. The little family evokes his masculine instincts to protect them. Soon woman-wary Johnny is cradling baby Adam in his arms and offering to assist Willow in finding her missing sisters. As their hearts slowly thaw, can Johnny convince Willow to trust him with the secret sheâs keeping so, just maybe, they can have a future together?
Montana Cowboys: These brothers live and love by the code of the West
âWhat are you doing?â
âIâm not letting you ride all over the country by yourself, thatâs for certain sure,â Johnny replied.
âYou have a cabin to fix.â
âYou have sisters to find. That outweighs a cabin.â
âYou donât need to do this.â
Johnny flicked the reins and they drove away from the station. âI do need to if I want to be able to live with myself.â
âThatâs an odd thing to say.â
He spared Willow a brief glance full of challenge and stubbornness. âI donât know what kind of men youâve known in the past, but some of us live by principles, and my principles will not allow me to let a young woman and a baby travel unescorted across Montana.â
She opened her mouth, but could think of no reply, and snapped it shut.
A man with principles? She liked the sound of that. But it didnât change her plans. Nor her vow to never again trust any man, because, to her sorrow, she knew words came easily.
Noble talk without noble actions was, in her mind, the worst sort of deceit.
LINDA FORD lives on a ranch in Alberta, Canada, near enough to the Rocky Mountains that she can enjoy them on a daily basis. She and her husband raised fourteen childrenâfour homemade, ten adopted. She currently shares her home and life with her husband, a grown son, a live-in paraplegic client and a continual (and welcome) stream of kids, kids-in-law, grandkids, and assorted friends and relatives.
The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.
âZephaniah 3:17
Dedicated to the memory of my grandson, Julien Yake, who passed away July 2015 at age nineteen; and to his mother who will forever mourn him.
Contents
Summer 1899
Near Granite Creek, Montana
Johnny Hardingâs nerves twitched at the sharp, penetrating sound, like the wail of a cat. He pulled on the reins of his horse and reached for the rifle he always carried with him, as did almost every man in the rugged northwest part of Montana Territory. He scanned his surroundings for the source of the sound.
A wagon stood in the shadow of the trees to his left, far enough away he couldnât make out the occupants, but from the list of the wagon, he suspected they might be needing assistance. A man simply did not ride by anyone in trouble out here where help was miles away, though Johnny wasnât about to heedlessly ride into a trap, either. His fingers remained on the rifle as he approached the wagon.
A woman sat on the bench. He did a quick assessment of her. Dark brown hair, medium skin tone, dark brown eyes that seemed to hold a world of regret. She clutched a bundle of blanket in one arm. The sound seemed to come from that area. A baby, no doubt. An unhappy baby.
The wagon was piled with belongingsâboxes and crates and a mattress tied on the top. Canvas partially covered the contents.
He slowed, waiting for the husband to make himself known. Slowly, Johnny eased the rifle to his knee, his finger resting on the trigger. His nerves tensed and he squinted into the trees, half expecting a man to jump out and demand his money and valuables.
He snorted. His saddlebags held nails and carpentry tools that he intended to use to fix up the Hamilton cabin. Hardly worth shooting a man for.
âHello,â he called. âLooks like you could use some help.â
The woman turned to him. Emotions raced across her faceâsurprise, followed by welcome, and as quickly replaced with a fierce look. She didnât answer.
âAre you in need of assistance?â
The woman glanced about. âIâm fine, thank you.â
Johnny edged closer, once again eyeing the trees, then darting his attention back to the wagon, alert for someone to leap from the box. Heâd ride away, but until he knew the people could proceed, his conscience dictated he investigate further. âMaâam, do you need help?â he repeated, now close enough to see the worry in her dark eyes and the fever-stained cheeks of the baby in her arms, whose cry threatened to pierce his eardrums. âWhereâs your husband?â He spoke loudly to be heard above the infantâs cries.
