Jesse: Merry Christmas, Cowboy. Lynnette Kent

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      Dear Reader,

      The very first of my novels published by Harlequin Books was a rodeo story, so I was thrilled when invited to write another one. Whether it’s the hero or the heroine climbing onto the back of a bucking animal, or trying to tie down a calf in a matter of seconds, a rodeo setting always raises the stakes for the relationship and makes the book that much more fun. Speaking of fun, I’ve greatly enjoyed my chance to work with the other writers in this series—Rebecca, Marin, Cathy, Pam and Trisha. Coming up with story ideas was easy with such talented partners, whether we were “building” the town of Markton or decorating the luxurious accommodations on the Cottonwood Ranch. Reading their stories provided important insights into their characters and my own in this family called the Codys. Thanks for the help, ladies!

      I hope you’ve had a chance to read all the books in the First Family of Rodeo set. And I hope you enjoy Janie and Jesse’s story as the conclusion to the Harlequin American series’ first multi-author continuity. Let me know what you think with a note at my website, www.lynnettekentbooks.com, or a letter to P.O. Box 1012, Vass, NC, 28384.

      Happy reading!

      Lynnette Kent

      Jesse: Merry Christmas, Cowboy

      Lynnette Kent

      MILLS & BOON

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      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Lynnette Kent lives on a farm in southeastern North Carolina with her five horses and five dogs. When she isn’t busy riding, driving or feeding animals, she loves to tend her gardens and read and write books. This is her twenty-fourth story for Harlequin Books.

      For the man who taught me

      what to expect from heroes…my dad.

      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

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter One

      Ten days. Ten go-rounds. One National Finals Rodeo Championship.

      Jesse Cody needed to stay focused on his training in order to win the bull-riding championship. He didn’t need this.

      “Please,” he said, staring at his father, who glared right back at him. “Tell me I didn’t just hear what I think I heard.”

      His mother responded, instead. “We invited the Hansens to stay with us at the hotel. Your dad and I will be arriving on Wednesday. But we told Janie you would fly her and Abigail to Las Vegas Tuesday afternoon.”

      Jesse disconnected from J. W. Cody’s flinty gaze and turned to face his mom. “Are we one big, happy family now? Kind of sudden, isn’t it?”

      “It’s taken thirty damn years,” J.W. growled.

      “We have to adjust, son.” Anne Cody put her hand on Jesse’s arm and looked up into his face. “Mark Hansen is your father’s son. I think the best way to deal with the situation is to accept the facts and move on.”

      “I—” Jesse shook his head and tried again. “We—” Speechless with frustration, he stepped away from his mom’s touch and walked to the wall of windows in his dad’s office, which looked out across the sprawling Cottonwood Ranch. Winter had descended on Wyoming, bleaching the prairie grass, defrocking the cottonwood trees of every last leaf and sending the tender plants in the gardens around his parents’ house deep underground. The Thanksgiving holiday had ended and Christmas was just around the corner.

      The holidays would come after the National Finals, of course, where he fully expected to win the championship in bull riding. That would mean defeating Mark Hansen, his archrival since they were in high school and, it seemed, his older brother. His bastard older brother.

      Without turning around, he said, “I don’t think Mark and I can live practically on top of each other while we’re competing at the Finals.”

      Again, his mother answered. “You don’t spend that much time in the room. I doubt you’ll see each other.”

      “The Hansens actually accepted this invitation?”

      “Your father and I had a long talk with Mark and Nicki at the Denver rodeo this past weekend, and they agreed this would be the best solution.”

      “I bet they did.” Who wouldn’t want to trade some cheap motel on the Vegas strip for rooms on the concierge floor at a first-class resort? Jesse wasn’t surprised that Mark would agree to everything he could get out of becoming a Cody, but his wife, Nicki, had been Jesse’s best friend since they were kids. Marrying Hansen had apparently put her solidly on the other side.

      His tone of voice must have hinted at his thoughts. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Jesse.” His mother walked up behind him, took hold of his shoulder and urged him to face her. “As things stood, Janie would have had to stay home to take care of their mother. This way, we can hire a caretaker to keep an eye on Abigail while Janie gets to have fun and watch the Finals. You know she’ll want to see Elly race.”

      “Not to mention Mark,” Jesse pointed out. “She’ll be rooting for him to win.”

      Anne grinned. “She can’t always be right.”

      The best Jesse could do in reply was a snort. He looked over at his dad. “And you’re okay with this plan? You’re ready to welcome Mark into the fold?”

      J.W. stuck out his chin. “I think I owe him the recognition.”

      “What else do you owe him, do you think? A job here at the ranch? In the cattle operation, maybe?”

      “We haven’t talked about it.”

      Temper rumbled through Jesse’s gut. “I’ve been running things for eight years. Maybe you think it’s time for a change.”

      “Jesse,” his mother said, a warning note in her voice.

      “That’s bull.” J.W. stepped out from behind his desk. “And you know it.”

      “And maybe you think he needs a spread of his own, to make up for all the years you ignored him. Would a hundred thousand acres do it? Not leased land, of course—just some prime Cottonwood property. Then you could build him and Nicki a house of their own.”

      “You’re acting like a spoiled brat.” J.W.