One Handsome Cowboy

One Handsome Cowboy

by

Anne Marie Novark

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Book Three: Return to Stone Creek Series

Leslie Taylor moves to Stone Creek so she and her son can start a new life. Her job at the Dusty Boots Ranch is perfect except for one six-foot tall, drop-dead gorgeous problem: Marco Defalco. Her new boss is way too attractive for Leslie's peace of mind.

Marco Defalco has been saddled with enough family responsibilities to last a lifetime. The last thing he wants to do is change his bachelor status . . . until he meets Leslie Taylor, that is. The sensual sparks crackling between them are too hot to ignore, and Marco has the sinking suspicion his bachelor days are numbered.

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One Handsome Cowboy

Copyright © 2016 by Anne Marie Novark

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

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Dedication

To a very special Siberian Husky with sky-blue eyes and wanderlust in his heart. Safe journeys, Cowboy.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

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One Handsome Cowboy

by Anne Marie Novark

Prologue

Marco Defalco stood behind the bar in Defalco's Italian Restaurant, mixing drinks and watching the crowd. Family and friends had gathered for the wedding reception thrown in honor of his brother, Mitch, and new sister-in-law, Sarah. Everyone was dancing and laughing and celebrating the first Defalco brother getting married.

Mitch was a lucky guy to have found a woman he could love and cherish. Not that Marco had any wish to get married, because he didn't. He'd shouldered enough family responsibilities to last a lifetime.

When his father had died, he'd still been in college. Being the oldest Defalco, it had been his responsibility to help his mom keep the family together--both emotionally and financially. Those first few years had been tough--finishing his degree, working with his mom to keep the restaurant open, helping with the younger kids--those years had been hell.

No, Marco didn't want the responsibilities attached to marriage. Although, sometimes he thought a stable long-term relationship with one woman might be nice.

More than nice.

Playing the field wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Especially when a man got to be a little older and the playing field was limited to the small town of Stone Creek, Texas, and surrounding countryside.

Not that he was that old; thirty-six just wasn't that young anymore, no matter which way you looked at it.

Pour me a Scotch, will you? Paul Defalco leaned an elbow on the bar and watched the wedding guests dancing and visiting with each other. Nice reception.

Yeah, nice. Get your elbow off my bar.

Whoa! Sounds like someone's awfully grumpy, said his youngest brother. And on such a special day, too. What's got your boxers in a twist?

Shut up, Paul!

Hey, you two behave yourselves! Judith Defalco and Mitch joined Paul at the bar. Mitch clamped his hand on his younger brother's shoulder and squeezed.

Cut it out! Paul jerked away and rubbed his shoulder in an exaggerated manner. Paul was the clown of the family.

Aw, quit your whining, little brother. Mitch looked at Marco. What's going on?

Nothing's going on, Marco said. Where's your new bride?

I left her with her folks. They're getting ready to leave.

Marco set a glass of orange juice on the bar for Mitch. His brother didn't drink the hard stuff anymore. Mrs. Nicholson still not onboard with your marriage?

Mitch shook his head. She'll come around sooner or later. Hey, what's this I hear about you buying land from old man Walker? What the hell are you going to do with three hundred acres?

Paul stood up straight. Dude! Marco bought a farm? What is this? Some sort of early mid-life crisis? And what about the restaurant? What's going to happen to it?

What about the restaurant? Marco said with a frown. I'm only the barkeeper--

Besides owning it with Ma and me, Paul reminded him.

I'll still own my part. I'll hire a new bartender. It'll work out, you'll see.

But what are you going to do with all that land?

Marco stared at his brothers. Mitch and Paul were looking at him as if he'd lost his mind. Well, maybe he had. But he was more than ready for a change in his life. And a challenge. He'd never wanted to make a career out of the family-owned restaurant. He'd had other plans and dreams way back before his dad had died.

He looked at Judith. She stood there with amusement written all over her lovely face. His little sister had grown into a beautiful woman. Sometimes Marco wondered why she was still single, why she hadn't settled down.

He narrowed his eyes at her when a thought suddenly occurred. She knew all about the land deal, being the realtor and all. She'd been the one to tell him Caleb Walker had some land he wanted to sell. The old man had a mountain of medical bills and needed money quick.

Did you spill the beans? Marco asked, placing a glass of Chardonnay on the bar in front of her.

Judith's blue eyes widened, and she looked affronted. No, I most certainly did not.

Then who? Marco glared at his brother.

Never mind that, Mitch said. You've always lived in town. What the hell are you going to do with a farm?

Old Marco-Donald had a farm. Ee i ee i oh! Paul Defalco sang the tune off-key with a big lopsided grin. I can't believe our big bad brother is setting up to be a farmer. What is this world coming to?

Shut up, Paul. You're a regular comedian, you know that? Marco raked his fingers through his dark hair and blew out a breath. He didn't need this ribbing from his brothers. Besides, I didn't buy farmland. I bought three hundred acres of pasture with a stream and canyon.

Worse and worse, Paul said. "Marco . . . a rancher."

All right, that's enough! Marco felt his blood pressure rise.

Hey, guys. Cut him some slack, Judith said. He's done a good deed, and he doesn't need y'all riding his butt. His sister had always been the peacemaker in the family.

Paul snorted. "Right. He always has been a philanthropic son of a bitch, helping everyone and their dog."

And is that such a bad thing? Marco asked softly, reining in his temper.

Not usually, his brother said. But sometimes, you step in to help whether the person wants it or not.

Oh, really?

Yes, really. You stick your nose into everyone's business--

That does it! Damn. A man could only take so much crap from a younger brother. He stepped around the bar and stood nose-to-nose to Paul. Outside, right now. I'm going to beat some respect into that hard head of yours.

Paul put up his chin. Yeah? You and whose army?

I don't need no stinking army, Marco fired back, his blood pounding in his veins. Paul had always had a way of riling him ever since he'd been a little kid.

Boys! Boys! What in the world are you fussing about now? Vivian Defalco hurried over to where her children were gathered, long caftan and silk scarves swirling around her. For heaven's sakes! We have guests here, and y'all are yelling loud enough to be heard for miles. Mitch, I'm sure Sarah's looking for you. Paul and Judith, make yourselves useful and help me see to the guests--

But, Ma . . . have you heard the news? Paul asked. Marco bought a farm. How are we going to run the restaurant without him?

She patted her youngest son's cheek. Don't worry, Paulie. I know all about it. We'll do just fine and make it work, I'm sure. Vivian flashed a smile at Marco, then took Paul's arm and led him away.

A couple of guests walked up to the bar, and Marco was soon serving drinks right and left. He smiled to himself. His mother was something else. She could handle almost any situation with calmness and fortitude. Just went to show that he hadn't been saddled with all the responsibilities of the family and restaurant after his dad had died. Ma had been the rock on which he'd depended on during those first years without Dad. They'd worked closely together to see after the welfare of the younger kids.

She hadn't blinked an eye when he'd explained his plans for the land he'd bought. She'd told him she had faith in him and confidence that he'd succeed on the new path he'd chosen to follow. Hadn't he always succeeded in everything he'd put his mind to?

Marco shook his head. He hoped Ma's confidence wasn't misplaced. He was taking a big risk. But for years, he'd put his life and dreams on hold. It was time to take control and move forward.

CHAPTER ONE

Three years later.

The long ribbon of highway stretched ahead as far as the eye could see. A road sign showed only thirty miles more to Stone Creek, Texas.

Thirty miles to a fresh start. A clean slate. A chance for a new and better life.

Leslie Taylor gripped the steering wheel of her ancient Ford Focus and inhaled a deep breath of the hot West Texas air that was flowing in through the open windows. The promise of a new life was what had impelled her to leave St. Louis and move to Stone Creek, where she'd visited her Uncle Caleb many times when she'd been a child.

If not for Uncle Caleb's invitation and offer of a job, Leslie didn't know what she would have done. Eighteen months ago, her life had crashed and burned. Her husband had left her, her son Noah had gotten involved with a bad bunch of kids, and if that hadn't been enough, she hadn't been able to afford the rent on their apartment, so she and Noah had been forced to move in with her folks.

With only a high school diploma and very few technical skills, job opportunities were extremely limited. Leslie worked long hours with very little pay. One of the reasons Noah had gotten into trouble in the first place was because he'd been left on his own so much.

Her parents had tried to help, but Leslie had been embarrassed and ashamed of the position she'd found herself in. She'd felt like a failure. A loser. A fool.

She still did.

For most of her adult life, she'd made unwise decisions that had landed her in bad situations. She'd given up an academic scholarship to the University of Missouri to marry Wayne Taylor, whom she'd been crazy about in high school. She'd staked her whole future on love. How could she have been so naive?

And then she'd gotten pregnant right away. She'd managed to stay home with Noah for the first year, but she and Wayne had always struggled financially, and things had only gotten worse with the responsibilities of a child.

Leslie ended up working graveyards as a short-order cook at an all-night truck stop just to make ends meet. Besides excelling in school, cooking was the only thing she seemed to be good at, so she'd enjoyed the job as far as it went.

With both of them working different shifts, they'd saved money on childcare. But they still struggled to pay bills because Wayne couldn't seem to hold a job for long. He had a propensity to drink and would disappear for days at a time.

The situation had not been conducive to wedded bliss, only Leslie had been determined to hold the family together. More than anything, she hadn't wanted Noah to grow up in a broken home without a father.

Another bad decision on her part to stay married to Wayne for so long. Was it any wonder her life now lay in shambles?

"Mom, how much longer till we get there? How far is the farm from Stone Creek? And why do we have to live on a stupid farm anyway? Why did we have to leave St. Louis? I don't want to live in a pokey little Texas town."

Leslie took another deep fortifying breath. Noah had groaned and whined the same litany of complaints every couple of hundred miles since they'd left Missouri. Oh, the joy of being the parent of a twelve-year-old boy.

She had to admit that her own patience was wearing thin. They'd had to wait until June, when Noah had finished school, before making the long drive to Texas. Leslie's every last nerve ending had been stretched taut with the delay and the packing, saying goodbye to her folks, leaving the city where she'd lived since the day she'd been born.

It won't be long now, she said, deliberately making her voice light, calm and soothing. Look over there! See those two mountains in the distance? Uncle Caleb lives ten miles on the other side of them. They're called the Double Mountains, and they've been landmarks since the Comanche roamed this land.

Noah let out a loud sigh and shrugged his skinny shoulders. "BFD--"

Haven't I told you a million times not to say that? Leslie said. I don't want you talking like that around Uncle Caleb.

It's not like it's really the F-bomb. Besides, what's he going to do? Noah hunkered down in the seat and crossed his arms over his chest. I'm sure his language isn't squeaky clean. Not if he's anything like Grandpa.

"Noah . . . please. I've told you Uncle Caleb and Grandpa are as different as night and day. And although Uncle Caleb's pretty laid back, he has very set ideas on how young people should act and speak. You need to watch your language in front of him."

Okay, okay, Noah said in a long-suffering voice. "Big deal . . . there, is that better?"

Much. Thank you. She gripped the steering wheel tighter. How was Uncle Caleb going to cope with such a moody preteen living in his house after living alone for so many years? She sent up a silent prayer that it would all work out.

Noah shrugged. So big deal about those dumb mountains. They look more like hills anyway. In the middle of nowhere. Just a bunch of cactus and wispy looking trees, a lot of cows and windmills, and red dirt. Great, just great. Thanks for ruining my life, Mom.

Leslie swallowed the lump in her throat. Had she made the right decision to uproot Noah from everything he was familiar with? Would this move help him or make things worse?

Dredging up strength from deep within, she glanced over at her son. You need to work on an attitude adjustment, young man. We both need this change. You know Uncle Caleb offered us a home for as long as we need it. And there's a job as a cook waiting for me at the dude ranch I told you about. Uncle Caleb says you'll enjoy--

"I'm not going to enjoy any of it. Her son frowned all the harder. How will Dad ever find us if we're stuck down in Texas? Did you leave a forwarding address?"

Leslie's chest tightened painfully. Even though his father had disappeared periodically throughout his life, Noah was having a difficult time with Wayne's desertion. And that's what it boiled down to: Complete and total abandonment. He had walked out of their apartment and their lives, and besides serving divorce papers, they hadn't heard from him since he'd left. No contact, whatsoever. Wayne wouldn't answer Noah's phone calls or texts. The dirty rat made it perfectly clear he didn't want anything to do with either of them ever again.

So Leslie was left to make it or break it on her own. She alone was responsible for the emotional well being of her son. She was their sole means of financial support. Because Wayne worked sporadically, there were no wages to garnish, no child support payments.

The whole situation hurt Leslie, of course. But the hurt Noah was suffering made it all the worse. And what made it sadder was the way Noah hadn't given up on the idea that she and his dad would get back together. Even after all this time, he made excuse after excuse as to why his father hadn't answered any of his calls. Her heart ached for her son's misery.

She took another deep breath. "Noah, you know your father had issues, has issues. I'm sorry for what happened, but we still have each other, and that's what's important. I love you. I want you to be happy more than anything in this world. But people have to make their own happiness; they can't depend on others to make them happy."

Leslie was still working on this philosophy herself, and it wasn't easy.

Yeah, yeah. Blah, blah. I'm hungry. When are we going to eat?

"When we get to Stone Creek. Before heading out to Uncle Caleb's farm. Remember I told you about Defalco's Restaurant? Oh, my God. Their pizzas were to die for. I hope they're as good as I remember. I hope they're still open after all