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    A Cowboy For A Lifetime
    A Cowboy For A Lifetime
    A Cowboy For A Lifetime
    Ebook101 pages1 hour

    A Cowboy For A Lifetime

    By Suzanne D. Williams

    ()

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    About this ebook

    "That was some amazing riding," he said. "I underestimated you. It won't happen again."

     

    Once more, the pressure became too much, and she glanced aside. He stopped her, his hand cupping her chin. Never had she felt more small and insignificant than she did right then, as if the entire earth wasn't big enough for Neil Sanborn. Never had she felt more feminine, like the finest lace sewed to a leather vest.

     

    Estelle Moore was sent to Mossy Bottoms to evaluate struggling Sanborn Farms for her boss's next investment. But from day one, the sight of the owners' son, Neil, on a cowboy pin-up calendar seemed to set the tone for the visit. He is amazing, and she has no idea who she's dealing with.

     

    A bad break-up taught Neil Sanborn a powerful lesson, that trust is hard to come by and sometimes reservations are good to have. He has no place in his life now for one night stands with loose women.

     

    When Estelle arrives, his new behavior is put to the test. She's beautiful, and they have definite chemistry. Yet his battle within is at odds with their growing feelings and might put an end to their relationship for good.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSuzanne D. Williams
    Release dateFeb 11, 2022
    ISBN9781386302131
    A Cowboy For A Lifetime
    Author

    Suzanne D. Williams

    Best-selling author, Suzanne D. Williams, is a native Floridian, wife, mother, and photographer. She is the author of both nonfiction and fiction books. She writes a monthly column for Steves-Digicams.com on the subject of digital photography, as well as devotionals and instructional articles for various blogs. She also does graphic design for self-publishing authors. She is co-founder of THE EDGE. To learn more about what she’s doing and check out her extensive catalogue of stories, visit http://suzanne-williams-photography.blogspot.com/ or link with her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/suzannedwilliamsauthor.

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      Book preview

      A Cowboy For A Lifetime - Suzanne D. Williams

      SUZANNE D. WILLIAMS

      Feel-Good Romance

      © 2014 A COWBOY FOR A LIFETIME by Suzanne D. Williams

      www.feelgoodromance.com

      www.suzannedwilliams.com

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher.

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

      But if we own up to our sins, God shows that He is faithful and just by forgiving us of our sins and purifying us from the pollution of all the bad things we have done. (1Jn 1:9 VOICE)

      CHAPTER 1

      She cast a look left and right for the presence of any other customers, then returned her gaze to the cardboard stand. The coast was clear, no other store patrons standing nearby. Tugging the plastic-wrapped calendar from the slot, a flush of heat washed over her ... and a lot of guilt.

      The music being piped through the store wasn’t helping her shame either. Young children sang about Christ alongside the twang of a slide guitar. She definitely wasn’t in the city anymore. No crowded sidewalks. No traffic buzz. No department stores. This town barely had a grocery.

      Mossy Bottoms Food and Pharmacy, read the sign. The pharmacy portion she’d passed just inside the front doors. The safety glass darkened and counter sealed tight, it either wasn’t open yet or had closed from disuse. As to food ... that was the plus in her mind. Most of it appeared to be acquired from local growers.

      Being a country store, it also contained items you wouldn’t see at a normal grocery. Chicken feed, for one. Four-packs of winter vegetable seedlings, for another. And a lot of locally produced folk art. It was in the center of the art section that she’d spotted the display.

      A red velvet bow from one of those cheap Christmas decoration packs had been taped to the top. A handwritten placard made of computer paper proclaimed it the Mossy Bottoms Men’s Calendar with all monies going to support the Beckum Peeler Cancer Relief Fund. A photo of Beckum Peeler was also taped there, in the form of a four-by-six print. She appeared to be about eighty.

      Her palms damp, Estelle Moore flipped the calendar over and the warmth in her cheeks shot straight down her spine. Mossy Bottoms had a nice amount of eye candy and, apparently, a photographer with a good eye. Thumbs hooked in their belt loops, heads tilted, and sporting a whole host of cowboy hats, bare-chested, well-developed, twenty-somethings glowed up at her from the back cover.

      A worthy cause indeed, she mumbled.

      You just take you a copy on the house, said a female voice.

      Startled, Estelle dropped the calendar.

      The loud smack brought a chuckle from the woman who’d made the remark. Waving one arm outward, loose flesh on the underside jiggled.

      I ... oh ... no need. Hasty, Estelle plucked the calendar from where it’d fallen and returned it to the display. She’d only wanted a peek. She’d had no plans to steal the thing.

      No, now, Beckum Peeler would want you to have it on account of she’s fully recovered. Plus, Mr. October is our own Neil Sanborn.

      Did you say Sanborn? Her curiosity raised, Estelle lifted the calendar again and fastened her gaze on the man in question. Neil Sanborn, six-foot-one, blond, tanned, and in the photo glistening with faux-sweat. Sanborn Farms, Neil Sanborn? she asked, rephrasing her question.

      The woman nodded. Yes’m. You know Neil?

      No, but I will.

      Aware her remark could be misconstrued, Estelle coughed. I mean, I have business there ... at the farm ... with Mr. Sanborn.

      A gleam in the old woman’s eyes said she’d already mired herself too deep. Tucking the calendar beneath her arm, Estelle circled the counter toward the grocery side of the store.

      While I’m here, I need a few items, she called out.

      The old woman’s soft cackle sped up her footsteps. Dashing down the canned vegetable aisle, Estelle hid herself at the far end and brought the calendar into her view again. Her job in Mossy Bottoms had just become much more interesting.

      Wow, she breathed. What exactly do I do about that?

      Maybe nothing, though it wouldn’t hurt to make an inquiry.

      Stuffing the calendar beneath her arm once more, Estelle glanced toward the old woman and, at her first opportunity, unseen, exited the store. She tossed the calendar in the passenger seat and backed out of the lot.

      Downtown Mossy Bottoms wasn’t more than a postage stamp. Aged brick buildings circa 1910 lined either side of the street. The window displays appeared to be just as old. Handwritten posters covered dusty displays, rarely changed.

      Insurance. Seamstress. Shoe repair.

      At the sight of the graphic design office, Estelle slowed. She snagged the calendar on her way out of the car.

      Estelle? Leaping up from behind a cluttered desk, a woman of similar age spanned the distance between them in two steps and embraced her. You’re really here.

      Estelle returned her friend’s enthusiastic hug. Nadine Kenley, or is it Perkins yet? Don’t tell me I missed the wedding?

      Nadine reversed, her curly brown hair seeming to expand between them. You haven’t missed it. Tyler’s still waiting to propose.

      Waiting for what? Christmas?

      Nadine put yet more space between them and flapped one hand. He’s a romantic. Has some inane idea I need him on one knee under the light of the moon. She waved toward a chair placed in front of the desk. Please, sit.

      Estelle obeyed, balancing the calendar in her lap. Nadine’s gaze altered, and Estelle slid it onto the desk. Mr. October, she said.

      Nadine returned to her chair and ran one finger across the array of men, pausing on the one in question. Neil ‘Yummy’ Sanborn. She pulled in a breath. Every woman’s dream ’round about midnight. She giggled. You in the market?

      Estelle smiled. Not personally, though I admit he’s tasty. I’m more interested in his story.

      Calendar-wise? Or ...?

      Start there and work back.

      Nadine released the calendar, though her gaze remained there for a time. Sheena Eastman, the blot of Mossy Bottoms, is the niece of Beckum Peeler, who the calendar was supposed to raise money for.

      It didn’t?

      It did, but Sheena used most of it for herself, and the calendar as a way to get into Neil’s bed.

      At Estelle’s widened gaze, Nadine snorted. He’s better than her, something he must have figured out because they were hot and heavy and then they weren’t. Now, if the two of them are in the same space, the knives come out.

      He’s temperamental?

      "Only around her. Neil has been ... how to say this nicely ... with a lot of girls? At least, until

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