Healing the Rancher

Leslie North, Mary Sue Jackson

Description

Only love can heal a broken heart…
When rancher Carter Janus first sets eyes on his new physical therapist, he almost sends her packing. Willow Spalding is drop dead gorgeous, and way too much of a distraction to have on his ranch. But when her young son Tavish lights up around the horses, Carter just can’t bring himself to disappoint the little guy. He tells himself it’s only until he heals, and can get back in the saddle. But he quickly realizes just how lonely he was before Willow and Tavish came into his life.
Recently divorced, Willow jumps at the chance to get away from her abusive ex and spend some time working on a remote ranch—even if the sexy rancher is a grump. Besides, it’s clear that something about this country haven is making her boy happy. And after a smoldering night of passion, her relationship with Carter quickly becomes more than just therapist and patient.
But when her angry ex stalks her to the ranch, Willow is forced to wonder…Is Carter better off without her? Or were they meant to be together all along…
Mary Sue Jackson and USA Today Bestseller Leslie North invite you to indulge in a heart-warming small-town western romance with a smoking hot cowboy and the woman who tames him...

Sujets

• Western
• Fiction
• Romance

Informations

• Publié par: Relay Publishing
• Date de parution: 18 mars 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9798201680527
• Langue: English

Extrait

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.


RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, MARCH 2020
Copyright © 2020 Relay Publishing Ltd.
All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Mary Sue Jackson is a pen name created by Relay Publishing for co-authored Romance projects. Relay Publishing works with incredible teams of writers and editors to collaboratively create the very best stories for our readers.
Cover Design by Mayhem Cover Creations.


www.relaypub.com

Blurb

Only love can heal a broken heart…
When rancher Carter Janus first sets eyes on his new physical therapist, he almost sends her packing. Willow Spalding is drop dead gorgeous, and way too much of a distraction to have on his ranch. But when her young son Tavish lights up around the horses, Carter just can’t bring himself to disappoint the little guy. He tells himself it’s only until he heals, and can get back in the saddle. But he quickly realizes just how lonely he was before Willow and Tavish came into his life.
Recently divorced, Willow jumps at the chance to get away from her abusive ex and spend some time working on a remote ranch—even if the sexy rancher is a grump. Besides, it’s clear that something about this country haven is making her boy happy. And after a smoldering night of passion, her relationship with Carter quickly becomes more than just therapist and patient.
But when her angry ex stalks her to the ranch, Willow is forced to wonder…Is Carter better off without her? Or were they meant to be together all along…
Contents



Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue


End of Healing the Rancher

Thank you!

About Mary Sue Jackson

About Leslie

Sneak Peek: The Cowboy’s Pregnant Fake Fiancée

Also by Mary Sue Jackson
One

C arter Janus woke that morning with a curse primed and ready on his lips. The thirty-four-year-old rancher turned over in bed, grimacing, as the pins in his hip made themselves known, launching sparks of now-familiar pain. It had been a fitful night’s sleep; he had spent the majority of it chasing sheep rather than counting them.
But this was who he was now. He was a man in his physical prime who could barely walk without assistance. A rancher who could scarcely pick up around his own ranch—a horseman medically forbidden from ever riding again. He was the reflection he saw in the mirror: unshaven, unkempt, with new creases etched around his eyes and mouth that sent lifelong acquaintances skittering across the street to avoid him. He looked like one miserable cuss. Added to that, he looked like a man who was always in pain.
He was always in pain.
And there wasn’t a damn thing anyone could do about it.
“What’s got you so surly this morning?” Regina Janus, his mother and occasional equal pain in the ass, greeted him as he hobbled into the kitchen. He made a beeline for the coffee pot, unwilling to engage the woman who had raised him until he had a cup of liquid sunshine gripped in one calloused fist.
“You have to ask?” Carter finally answered, moments later, as he lowered himself into the chair across the table from her, holding his mug stiffly away from his body.
His mother’s mouth twisted in sympathy, and she reached across the table and gripped his forearm in solidarity. Carter let her. He knew she would take his pain away if she could. Didn’t matter that he was a grown man now, and she a widow with her own fair share of hurt to nurse.
“I know what’ll get your mind off that leg of yours: a change of subject. So how about you tell me all there is to know about that new PT from New York City that Grey’s sending over today.” His mother’s eyes twinkled in a familiar way that meant trouble for him.
“Nothin’ to tell,” he grunted. So much for a change of subject. And so much for Grey keeping matters between the two of them. Grey Phelps might be based out of New York City nowadays, but deep down, he was still that kid from Sow’s Creek who had come over for play dates and often ended up sitting at the kitchen table trading town gossip with Carter’s mother over milk and cookies. “What do you want to know?”
Regina lifted her eyebrows as she took a sip from her coffee cup without deigning to reply. No such thing as a stupid question, but if there were, that would be one of them. Carter was wary of going down this track with his notoriously meddlesome mother, so he kept the information brief. “She’s thirty, maybe. Younger’n me. She’s named for some type of tree.” Willow. He had turned the name over in his mind a few times already, trying to decide what kind of woman it belonged to. He had purposefully kept himself from looking up her professional page online, telling himself he didn’t care and it didn’t matter. “She’s qualified,” he concluded.
“Grey said she has a son, and she’s bringing him along with her,” his mother coaxed. “But no husband in the picture?”
“Let’s not do this again,” Carter suggested.
Regina drew back with a look of bewilderment that, in Carter’s opinion, was overdone. “Do what again?” she asked innocently. “Just what are you accusing your mother of?”
“Meddling,” he answered without missing a beat.
“When have I ever meddled?”
He snorted at her wide-eyed expression. “I seem to recall a Christmas party last year where you talked me into playing Santa.”
“You were a wonderful Santa!” his mother protested. “At the very least, you were the handsomest this town has ever seen. You better believe some eligible ladies left that party with a complex about Christmas they’re sure to carry for years to come.”
“I’ve got chores to do,” Carter replied as he shoved his chair out from the table.
“You forgot your cane!” his mother called after him.
He half-turned and held his hand out. Regina tut-tutted disapprovingly but tossed the cane to him all the same. He snatched it out of the air and braced himself against it as he hobbled toward the front door.
“Carter…” His mother’s tone was less intentionally mettlesome now. “You don’t look well. Are you sure the pain isn’t too much today?”
“Ranch can’t run itself,” Carter said without glancing behind him. “And I can’t leave everything to Jack. Even a foreman’s got his limits.”
“You’ve got your limits, too,” his mother countered. Carter let the porch door swing shut behind him and pretended not to hear.



Within half an hour, the dogs started up barking fit to wake the dead. Carter paused in his labor, setting his rake aside, and limped up the hill in time to spy an unfamiliar car pulling up in the driveway.
The PT. She had arrived earlier than expected.
Carter leaned on his cane as he watched the car roll to a halt. The driver’s door popped open, and a woman stepped out. The ranch dogs swarmed her immediately, wagging their tails in approval and nosing at her hands for affection.
Grey had filled him in on a lot. But Grey hadn’t warned him how pretty she was going to be.
Carter would have never pegged the woman stepping out from behind the car door as a physical therapist. Her honey-blonde hair was down, hanging around narrow, erect shoulders in gentle waves. She could afford to run a brush through it after the long drive, and the slightly self-conscious look on her face as she hurried around the front of the car clued him that she probably thought the same, but he had an instant liking for the way that mane of hers was allowed to run free.
He wished he could see what color her eyes were.
He equally wished he could take back the thought.
“Carter Janus?” The woman gave up negotiating with whatever sat in the passenger seat and jogged through the sea of dogs over to him. Carter’s eyes narrowed. “Willow Spalding.”
It was tempting to leave her proffered hand hanging. It was on the tip of Carter’s tongue to tell her to get back in her car and go home to the city. He didn’t want any distractions from healing, and the woman tasked with his care was a diversion on legs. And God, what legs. Long and slender and subtly muscled, their definition accentuated by a pair of black form-fitting yoga pants.
Qualifications be damned: Willow Spalding was exactly what he didn’t need in a PT.
He had come to point where he could accept that he needed help getting back on his feet—back in the saddle. But in his opinion, the hands of a woman this beautiful were more likely to hinder any progress than they were to urge it along. Her presence was already enough to make him hot under the collar; she was already too distracting. Not to mention, the moment his mother clapped eyes on Willow, the elder Janus was sure to try and meddle. He didn’t need to be dodging the machinations of women when he could barely walk a straight line.
But distractions aside, something wasn’t right here. Despite her professional manner as she’d stuck her hand out to him in the first place, she seemed as tempted to snatch her hand back now as he was to let it hover untaken. When at last he sheathed her palm in his, he was introduced to a surprisingly strong grip but felt her hand tremble slightly. She pulled it back and averted her gaze quickly before he could get to the bottom of what color her eyes were.
She was like a skittish horse, he realized. Something had her spooked, something he co