Wedding Bells at Wandering Creek. Patricia Thayer

      He leaned closer to her and smiled. Willow could see the stubble along his strong jaw, the long lashes that framed his brown eyes—dangerous eyes that held a suggestion of surprising sadness, too.

      “I’m not so bad…when you get to know me,” he added.

      Wrong. She’d known Jack Sullivan for only a few days, but she’d recognized trouble the second she’d looked at him. She took a deep breath. “Getting to know you isn’t in our agreement.”

      He leaned closer. “Not everything has to be by the book…Willow.”

      His husky whisper of her name shot a shiver down her spine. She had to break free of her attraction to this man.

      Dear Reader,

      It was a pleasure to set Wedding Bells at Wandering Creek Ranch in my state of California, where I’ve lived for the past thirty-five years. I hope to show you another side of the Golden State—not just the bustling Los Angeles area, but the open land and small ranches that are tucked away along the beautiful coastal mountains.

      I used this picturesque setting as the backdrop for my story. My heroine grew up with famous movie star parents who valued their privacy and wanted to raise a family outside the prying eyes of Hollywood.

      In the story, Willow Kingsley wants to continue the dream of her deceased father, actor Matt Kingsley, who worked with underprivileged children. Her goal is to reopen Kingsley’s Kids’ Camp at the ranch, but when private investigator Jack Sullivan shows up looking for Willow’s brother, it could ruin everything. She has to do something to disguise him, so she turns him into a ranch hand.

      I hope you enjoy visiting the Wandering Creek Ranch and the people who live and work there…especially the cowboys.

      Thanks for reading,

      Patricia Thayer

      www.patriciathayer.com

      Wedding Bells at Wandering Creek Ranch

      Patricia Thayer

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      

In the cowboy’s arms…

      Imagine a world where men are strong and true to their word…and where romance always wins the day! These rugged ranchers may seem tough on the exterior, but they are about to meet their match when they meet strong, loving women to care for them!

      If you love gorgeous cowboys and Western settings, this miniseries is for you!

      Look out for more stories in this miniseries, only from Harlequin Romance^®.

      Next month in WESTERN WEDDINGS:

      JUDY CHRISTENBERRY

      Coming Home to the Cattleman

      To Mom,

       You were always there with your love and support. Even if I don’t say it, I hope you know how much I appreciate you…. So now am I your favorite?

      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      EPILOGUE

      CHAPTER ONE

      SHE LOOKED LIKE every man’s fantasy.

      Jack Sullivan peered through the grove of oak trees at the woman on horseback. Tall and slender, she rode the large, coal-black stallion with surprising ease. Caught by the breeze, her long wheat-colored hair lifted off her shoulders with each graceful stride. Her slender, jean-clad legs cradled the sides of the horse as they moved through the grassy meadow.

      Too bad he wasn’t hired to find Willow Kingsley.

      Off in the distance, a rocky hillside fringed the seven hundred acres of the Wandering Creek Ranch. Who would have thought an oasis like this existed just thirty miles from Los Angeles? But this ranch was the home of a movie star couple, onetime child star Molly Reynolds and the late western star Matt Kingsley. Their union had produced two children, a son, Dean…and their daughter, Willow.

      And Jack was hoping big sister could tell him where to find brother Dean.

      A smile appeared on Willow’s pretty face as the stallion bobbed its head up and down, protesting her control. She tugged on the reins. “So, you’re feeling frisky this morning.”

      Her voice had a smoky quality, and suddenly, Jack wasn’t thinking about business, or about why he’d driven all the way from Seattle to Southern California. Those sultry, whispery tones made him forget that he’d been staking out the ranch for the past twenty-four hours, hoping he’d get lucky and Dean Kingsley would come home to his family. Right now, all Jack could imagine was sister Willow; those long legs, that voice, that…

      The stallion whinnied and Jack redirected his attention to the meadow and found Ms. Kingsley was looking at him.

      He’d been discovered.

      She held her ground and stared back at him. She didn’t look happy.

      Jack decided since he was on the other side of the electronic fence he wasn’t breaking any laws. That wasn’t to say as a private investigator he hadn’t stretched them a few times. He was used to using any means necessary to locate his suspect.

      And he needed to find Kingsley before time ran out…for everyone.

      “I would like to talk with you, Ms. Kingsley,” he called.

      “I don’t talk to people who sneak around our property.”

      “Technically, Ms. Kingsley, I’m not on your property. And I’ll leave right away, once you tell me how to find your brother, Dean.”

      That drew a stronger glare. She just tugged the rein, turned the horse and galloped off.

      “Well, you blew that one royally,” he chided himself. He prided himself on handling people with charm and wit. Mike had always said, Jack could con the best of them. An image of Mike, his onetime partner and friend flashed in his head.

      “I’m not losing my touch, Mike,” he muttered as he hiked back to his SUV. “I’m still going to get my man. It just might take a while longer.”

      

      An hour later, after she’d finished brushing down Dakota and putting him into his stall, Willow came out of the barn. She usually enjoyed her morning rides, but today’s incident had unnerved her a little.

      Since her father’s death two years ago, the media had left her and her mother alone, and Willow had hoped they’d forgotten about the Kingsley family entirely. But she supposed the reopening of the summer camp was bound to bring out the press again.

      On the way to the house, she stopped short when a black SUV pulled into the circular drive, parked, and the stranger from the pasture got out of his car and started toward the porch.

      “Don’t take another step,” she called out and hurried her pace.

      The tall, rangy man turned around and had the nerve to smile. “Hello, Ms. Kingsley. I never got the chance to introduce myself. I’m Jack Sullivan.”

      Willow