Praise for the novels of Maisey Yates

  “Yates brings her signature heat and vivid western details to another appealing story in the excellent Gold Valley series... Fans of Kate Pearce should enjoy this.”

  —Booklist on Rodeo Christmas at Evergreen Ranch

  “[A] surefire winner not to be missed.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Slow Burn Cowboy (starred review)

  “This fast-paced, sensual novel will leave readers believing in the healing power of love.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Down Home Cowboy

  “Yates’ new Gold Valley series begins with a sassy, romantic and sexy story about two characters whose chemistry is off the charts.”

  —RT Book Reviews on Smooth-Talking Cowboy (Top Pick)

  “Multidimensional and genuine characters are the highlight of this alluring novel, and sensual love scenes complete it. Yates’s fans...will savor this delectable story.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Unbroken Cowboy (starred review)

  “Fast-paced and intensely emotional.... This is one of the most heartfelt installments in this series, and Yates’s fans will love it.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Cowboy to the Core (starred review)

  “Yates’s outstanding eighth Gold Valley contemporary...will delight newcomers and fans alike.... This charming and very sensual contemporary is a must for fans of passion.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Cowboy Christmas Redemption (starred review)

  Once Upon a Cowboy

  Maisey Yates

  Especially dedicated to a tale as old as time. Fairy tales will always be magic to me.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  IT WASN’T EXACTLY an enchanted castle. But then, Belle wasn’t silly enough to expect an actual enchanted castle. It had been a nice story to tell herself on the long car ride that had carried her from Seattle, Washington, up into the hills of Pyrite Falls, Oregon. But it had only been that. A story.

  Still, based on the letters that had passed back and forth between herself and her new employer, a picture had begun to form in her mind. Of the wounded beast up in his castle, cursed because of a betrayal—by an evil fairy—hardened and frozen by the years... And in desperate need of help.

  She had been devastated when the bookshop closed. But there just hadn’t been enough steam to keep it going. She had tried, but after her grandmother’s death, and the medical bills that had piled up and everything else...it just hadn’t been feasible.

  Fairytale Books had closed. But Belle’s love for books remained. It was why, when she had packed up her car to start this journey, to start her new life, she had taken a bare minimum of outfits, and of many other things. But she had filled the car full of books. Most of the books that had been left in the store. Children’s books.

  For the kids.

  She was so excited to meet the kids.

  She put the car in Park and turned the motor off, looking at the cabin in front of her.

  It loomed a bit. But that was okay. She was ready. More than ready. She got out of the car, and took a deep breath, gathering her overnight bag, which also had toys in it, and charged toward the door.

  “I have confidence in me,” she said. The mantra would get her through. It had gotten her this far. That and weaving fairy tales.

  “Intruder!”

  She looked up, just in time to see a water balloon being hurled from the rooftop, and not in time to dodge said water balloon.

  And then came another one. And another.

  “Oh,” she shouted, and tried to get out of the way, but a small boy appeared from behind a large pot, which did not have a plant in it, and just seemed to be there for the sole purpose of concealing him, large slingshot raised. And another water balloon fired from that.

  “Whatever you’re selling, lady, we don’t want it.”

  “And if you’re from the government, that goes double,” came the little voice from up above.

  “I am neither from the government nor am I selling anything,” she said. And she refused to react to the water. Because they wanted her to. Because this had been an ambush and the boys—John and Joe, she didn’t know which was which—were trying to get to her. She had been warned. That they had fierce tempers and even fiercer ways of displaying them.

  “While I appreciate the opportunity to shower—I have had a long journey, and this has been quite refreshing—I would like to call a cease-fire.”

  “You don’t have any ammunition, lady,” the boy behind the pot said. “You’re not in any position to be calling a cease-fire.”

  “But I do have toys in my bag. And if you soak them through, they may be ruined.”

  “I bet we don’t want your toys.”

  “Maybe not,” she said. “But what about Imogene?”

  She had thought that might soften them. And it did.

  The little bandicoots scampered off. Both of them wearing only overalls with no shirts on underneath. Well. She had known that it would be an adventure. And she had signed up for it. Specifically. She took another step toward the door and started to knock when it jerked open. And she was greeted—this time not by a child—but by a very grumpy looking man. She had to look up to see that he was grumpy. Because he was just so tall. And...broad. He had a cowboy hat tipped down low on his head, a brutal scar running from his forehead down over his eye through his lip. It was a miracle he still had both eyes judging by that scar. But he did. And they were...they were beautiful. Blue like the sky, and in stark contrast to everything else about him.

  The man himself was monstrous. Bordered on being a beast. But his eyes...

  “If you’re selling something, we don’t want it. And if you’re from the government...”

  “You also don’t want it. I am actually clear on that stance. But I am Belle Langford. We’ve exchanged emails.”

  He snorted. “We fucking have not.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I beg your pardon.” She was not used to such salty language. Her grandmother didn’t allow it, and it wasn’t common to hear in her little bookshop. She did sometimes read it in books, and in certain contexts it made her face very warm. “I thought that you were Adam Winchester.”

  “I am. But you sure as hell haven’t exchanged emails with me. I don’t have a computer.”

  “I... You have children. John and Joe and Imogene.”

  “What the hell is this?”

  “I thought that I was coming to take a position as nanny. And housekeeper...”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  And suddenly, a bright pink Cadillac convertible came rolling up the driveway with smoke trailing behind it grandly. “Oh no.”

  A voice came from the vehicle. The car stopped suddenly, and an elderly woman got out, round and wearing all pink, just like her car. “I’m late. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to send you up here completely unaware.”

  And Belle had no idea which one of them the woman was talking to.

  “Fucking hell, Debbie. What did you do?”

  “What a nice way to greet your mother-in-law,” she said.

  They looked at each other for a long moment. “I’m worried about you.”

  “I know you are. But that doesn’t give you call to go meddling in my business. What the hell are you playing at?”

  “I’m not playing at anything, Adam. You need help. You are up to your eyeballs.”

  “You’ve been just a fine help...”

  “We are at each other’s throats all the time. And I am the kids’ grandmother, and I don’t want to be in a fight with you. I like to take them for outings. I like to take them on vacations. I like to be Grandma. I can’t be primary caregiver, especially when their dad’s snarling at me all the time.”

  “So you did what?”

  “I hired you a nanny.”

  “I don’t need your money, Debbie.”

  “I didn’t say that you did. But this is my gift to you. You need a housekeeper, and you need a nanny. And here she is.”

  “I really don’t need your guilt babysitter.”

  The woman—Debbie—walked across the driveway, closing the distance between herself and Adam. “You listen to me, Adam Winchester—you have a hard head, and you always have. I thought you would be good for Laney, and I stand by it. You would’ve been good for her, if she could have been good for you. I don’t approve of what she did. I don’t approve of her running off, I don’t approve of her abandoning these kids, I don’t approve of her abandoning you. But I lost her the same as you did—she doesn’t speak to me anymore either. And yes, I do feel some guilt about it. Because I’m her mother. So obviously something that I did...”

  “It isn’t your fault, Debbie. It’s not.”

  “I appreciate it. But I’m not looking to be absolved. All I want is to make sure that my grandchildren have a better life than this.”

  “They’re fine,” Adam said.

  Belle was beginning to

feel like an unnecessary accessory to the entire thing.

  “Wait a minute,” she said. “Are you telling me that I emailed with you, Debbie. And I never emailed with him—Adam.”

  “That is the size of it.”

  “He doesn’t have a computer,” Debbie said. “I do. I’ve been on Facebook for fifteen years.”

  “I’m sure she’s really impressed by that, Deb.”

  “Don’t pay attention to him. He’ll be grateful for your presence once you get going...”

  “I don’t want a stranger in my house.”

  “You have an extra room,” she said, fiercely.

  “Look, I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted,” Belle said, a little bit of panic starting to rise up in her chest. She really did try to believe in the goodness of the universe, in spite of the fact that her life had been pretty difficult up until this point. She had been raised by her grandmother, and she knew what it was like to be abandoned by...well, not just her mother, but her father, too. She had thought that she would have something in common with these kids. And that she could make a difference. She had wanted that. It had given her a sense of peace and happiness after having lost the bookstore. “But I did get rid of my apartment, and I functionally don’t have a place to stay, because I was certain that I was coming here to work, and it would be very difficult for me to go back.”

  “You would put the poor girl out on the street?”

  “I didn’t ask the poor girl to come here,” he said.

  “Give it a month,” Debbie said.

  A month. She had been expecting a lot more job security than that. But then, she supposed that...she should know better than to count on something like that. Of course she should. She should know better because anything can happen at any time, and nobody was guaranteed anything. A month would be...at least enough of a chance to figure out a plan of action if it didn’t work out.

  “I told you already I don’t want...”

  “You don’t want a stranger living in your house. Well, Adam, the problem is that you work from sunup to sundown. You’re exhausted and so are the kids, all the time. They’re unsupervised half the time, and I know you mean well, but it’s too much time spent alone.”

  Two small faces appeared from behind the house. The boys were back, clearly fascinated by what was happening.

  And for the first time, Adam seemed to actually look at her. Really look her up and down and take in the sight of what had happened to her. Water balloon residue and all. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “She can have a month. But she won’t last. Three days with these varmints will send her running for the hills.”

  “I’m sure that they aren’t...varmints,” she said.

  “And I’m sure they are. They’re my kids, after all and I say you won’t last for them. You’re welcome to give it a try, Miss...”

  “I did say.”

  “I didn’t catch it.”

  “Langford. Belle Langford.”

  “Ms. Langford. You are welcome to try to make my house a home, and to make my...varmints into kids. But I have a feeling you’re going to find that it’s an uphill battle.”

  “And what about you?” she asked, feeling more than a little bit irritated by the whole situation. “Should I try to make a man out of the beast?”

  And then his face did something quite horrifying. He grinned. But it wasn’t an easy grin, not a happy grin. No. Somehow, it was more frightening than any sneer could’ve been.

  “Oh, I don’t change, Ms. Langford. I’m as immovable as a brick wall. Implacable as stone. As damned stubborn as these here mountains that surround this place. That isn’t poetry—it’s a direct quote. Just some of the few things that have been said about me. So yeah. Do your best with the kids. Do your best with the house. You don’t need to worry about me.”

  And then, just like that, he went back in the house, leaving Belle standing there in the driveway with Debbie, and the two little hellions.

  “I am sorry about that,” Debbie said. “Only, I started to get in touch with you as myself, but it seemed awfully ridiculous. Explaining to you what happened with Adam and with...with my daughter. And it just seemed easier to write it from his point of view. Well, the point of view he doesn’t know he has. Which is that he wants what’s best for the kids. I know he does. He’s drowning. And that he won’t admit. He won’t admit it. He just...he doesn’t have it in him. But the kids are half-feral.”

  “Hey,” one of the boys said, coming out from behind the house. “We’re not feral, Grandma.”

  “No,” she said. “I said you were half-feral, John. I didn’t say you were all feral.”

  “I don’t even know what that means.” The other boy came back from around the side of the house, maybe a half an inch shorter than the other. And she would have to try to remember that this one was Joe. He must be.

  “It means wild,” she said.

  “Is that why Mom left?”

  And it was Belle’s turn to speak. She couldn’t help it.

  “Absolutely not,” she said. “Adults do things sometimes because of their own problems. But kids are not the cause of those problems. Adults have a lot of years to have things in their mind play tricks on them. To have the things that scare them get bigger and scarier.”

  “Like the monster under the bed,” John said.

  “Yes,” Belle said. “Like a monster under the bed. They aren’t real, you know, those monsters. But they can feel very real. And you can start to treat that imaginary monster like a pet. Giving it food and water, and letting it get bigger and bigger in your mind. Even though it isn’t actually there. But you can take it with you into adulthood, that fear.”

  “How do you stop that from happening?”

  “Things are scariest when they’re in the dark. When you don’t see them. If you drag it out, and let everybody know, this is the thing that hurts me, this is the thing that scares me, you can start to deal with it. And that keeps it from getting too big.”

  “Huh,” John said. “That’s a weird story.” And then like that they disappeared.

  “Well...” she said.

  “That went beautifully,” Debbie said. “I’m sorry about my son-in-law. He’s gruff. He always has been. But it’s only gotten worse... Well, since. You understand. I’m trying to help. Sometimes I think he finds me meddlesome. I guess he isn’t wrong. I am meddling a bit. But it’s only because I love those kids. And I love him. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but there are things about him that are lovable.”

  “Well,” she said. “I will focus on the kids. Even he said I could do that.”

  “I just hope that he... That he finds his manners enough to show you around. Here’s my phone number,” she said, handing her an actual slip of paper with the phone number on it. “If you need anything, you just let me know, darling. And I will be happy to come and help you. I’ll be your fairy godmother.”

  “Well. Thanks.”

  Except then her fairy godmother got back in her pink convertible and drove away, leaving Belle standing there.

  “Joe,” she said. “John. Come on out.”

  The boys did. She was still wet, and becoming very aware of it. “I want you boys to help me bring my things into the house. I’m wet now, and that’s because of you.”

  “No,” Joe said, running away. John seemed a little less certain as to whether or not he could openly defy an adult.

  “John, if you help me, I’m going to make a cake. And you will get to have the first slice of that cake.”

  “A cake...”

  “Yes. A cake.”

  “We only get cake for birthdays. And even then, it’s just the gross kind from the grocery store.”

  “Mine won’t be gross. And it won’t be from a grocery store. I will even make the frosting from scratch.”

  “All right. I’ll help you. Joe doesn’t get a piece, does he?”

  “That will remain to be seen.”

  “What about Imogene? She didn’t get a chance to help with things.”

  “Isn’t she only three?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well. Then I will just let her have one for being three.”

  “That’s good. She’s the best little sister in the world. She’s so cute.” John looked genuinely pleased to be speaking about his sister.

 

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