Heart of Texas Volume 3: Nell's Cowboy. Debbie Macomber

were breathless and excited.

      “We did it!” Twelve-year-old Jeremy said, exchanging a high five with his sister. Unlike most siblings, Jeremy and Emma rarely fought. Sure, they squabbled now and then—all kids did—but these two were close in age and temperament. They’d also been through the devastating experience of their father’s death, which had created a strong bond between them.

      Jeremy was large for his age, like his father and Nell, too—big-boned, muscular and tall. Two years younger, Emma was small and delicate, resembling Ruth, her grandmother.

      “I’m glad you made it home in time,” Ruth said, pouring Nell a cup of hot tea before filling a second cup for herself.

      Nell gazed out the kitchen window at the ferocity of the storm. The wind propelled the rain at an almost horizontal angle, pelting the trees and flowers. Smaller trees were bent nearly in half. Many a new crop would see ruin this afternoon.

      Sighing, she turned away from the window. “I would have been a couple of minutes earlier if it hadn’t been for some greenhorn,” she said. “The silly fool stopped at the side of the road to take pictures.”

      “Anyone you recognized?” Ruth asked.

      “Never saw him before in my life.” Nell would have remembered him if she had. He was big like Jake, sturdy and broad-shouldered. Unfortunately—unlike Jake—he didn’t seem to possess an ounce of common sense.

      Ruth shook her head. “Probably one of those tornado chasers.”

      Nell frowned. “I don’t think so.” He wasn’t the type. Too soft, she decided, and although it might sound unkind, not all that bright. Anyone with brains knew to seek shelter in a storm.

      “What’s for dinner?” Jeremy asked.

      “Not chili,” Emma pleaded.

      Despite herself Nell laughed. “Not chili,” she assured her. Her family had been good sports, sampling different variations of her chili recipe for the past few months. Nell was perfecting her recipe and had used her family as taste-testers.

      The Chili Cook-off was being held that weekend as part of the Promise Rodeo. These festivities launched spring the way the big Cattlemen’s Association dance in June signaled the beginning of summer.

      Nell held high hopes that her chili might actually win this year. Her talents in the kitchen were legendary, and she believed she made a great pot of chili. For weeks she’d been combining recipes, adding this, subtracting that. After feeding her family chili twice a week, she was finally satisfied with her recipe.

      “Are you going to win the cook-off?” Emma asked.

      “Of course she is,” Ruth answered before Nell could respond. “I don’t see why she shouldn’t, seeing she’s the best cook this side of the Rio Grande.”

      Both children nodded enthusiastically, and Nell smiled. “How about porcupine meatballs for dinner?” she suggested. The meatballs, made with rice and cooked in tomato soup, were one of the children’s favorites. Jeremy and Emma instantly agreed.

      “I’ll peel the potatoes,” Ruth said. As usual her mother-in-law was willing to lend a hand.

      The lights flickered just then, and the house went dark.

      “That’s okay,” Jeremy said. “We don’t need electricity. We can roast weenies in the fireplace, can’t we?”

      “Yeah,” Emma seconded. “We could have hot dogs.”

      “Sounds like a good idea to me.” Nell reached for a candle, grateful her children maintained a sense of adventure. They were going to need it when the first dude ranch guests arrived.

      * * *

      Cal Patterson shook the moisture from his jacket as he stepped inside out of the driving rain. He removed his Stetson and placed it on the hook just inside the porch to dry. He’d done what he could to protect his herd, gotten his horses into the barn and battened down the shutters where he could. Glen, his brother and business partner, had left for town early in hopes of beating the storm. Cal had worked alone, listening with half an ear for his wife’s arrival. He didn’t like the idea of Jane driving all the way from town in this kind of weather.

      “Cal, is that you?”

      His heart rate accelerated at the sound of her voice. “Jane? What the hell are you doing here? Where’s your car? I didn’t see it.”

      “I live here, remember?” she teased, joining him in the kitchen porch while he removed his boots. She’d obviously just had a bath and now wore a flannel bathrobe, belted loosely about her waist. “And I didn’t park in my usual place because Glen’s truck was still there.”

      “You should’ve stayed in town,” he chastised, but he was delighted she’d managed to make it home. He didn’t relish the idea of a night spent without her. Two months of marriage, and he’d grown accustomed to sharing his home and his heart with this woman.

      “The clinic closed early,” she informed him, “and I’ve got my beeper. Anyone can reach me in case of a medical emergency.”

      Cal shed his jacket and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and urging her into the kitchen. His wife was the town’s only physician, so there were constant demands on her time. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stop worrying about you.”

      “Hey, I’m a big girl.”

      “Sure you are!” He was about to kiss her when the lights went out. Not that he minded. A romantic interlude wasn’t unwelcome.

      “I’ve got a fire going in the fireplace,” she whispered, pressing against him, reminding him of the benefits of married life. She looped her arms around his neck and kissed his jaw.

      Cal shut his eyes and inhaled her fresh sweet scent. This was about as close to heaven as he expected to get in his lifetime. “I don’t suppose you’re wearing that see-through nightie of yours?”

      “No,” she said, “but that could be arranged.”

      “Now you’re talkin’.”

      Cal felt her smile against his skin. “I love you, Rebel.”

      Growling, he swung her into his arms and carried her into the living room. Sure enough, a small fire flickered in the fireplace. This had become their favorite room; he’d lost count of the number of times they’d made love in front of the fireplace. The room had a special significance for him, since it was here that he’d first realized how much he’d come to care about her. It was here in this very room that Dr. Texas, as he was fond of calling her, had taken his freeze-dried heart and breathed life into his lonely existence.

      Cal was happier than he’d ever thought possible. With each passing day he loved Jane more. Their love had demanded plenty of adjustments on both sides. Sacrifices. But for everything he’d given up, he’d gained so much more.

      The storm raged outside and a fair one was building on the living-room carpet when Jane’s beeper went off.

      Cal groaned and rolled onto his back, inhaling several deep breaths. “That damn well better be important,” he muttered.

      “Cal!”

      “I want someone real sick.”

      Giggling, Jane scrambled for her beeper and read the message. “It’s Laredo Smith,” she said.

      “Wanna bet he’s phoning about Savannah?”

      “She’s just over eight months,” Jane said, sounding concerned.

      “But Laredo’s acting like she’s three weeks overdue.”

      “He’s worried, that’s all.”

      Cal figured he would be, too, in Laredo’s situation. This was the Smiths’ first child, and Savannah was over thirty; as well, Cal knew there’d been some