Wyatt's Ready-Made Family Read online

  “It’s not fair to keep you out of your own home, Wyatt.

  “It’s just that I don’t want the kids to get any ideas.”

  He turned to find Maura standing there in her long cotton gown, the candle casting a soft glow over her face. “What kind of ideas?”

  “I don’t want them to think that you’ll always be a part of their lives,” she confessed. “I also don’t want them to think that you’re a live-in boyfriend.”

  Wyatt stepped closer. “You don’t want people to think you’re giving me special favors.”

  Even in the dim candlelight, he could see her blush.

  He wanted so badly to pull her into his arms. “Maura, please believe me, I would never ask you…. I care about you and the kids too much. But with this situation, I can’t see there’s any other answer. If you’re worried about what people will think, tell ’em…that we’re engaged.”

  Dear Reader,

  Here is an acronym that explains why you should not miss the opportunity to enjoy four new love stories from Silhouette Romance so close to Valentine’s Day:

  L is for the last title in Silhouette Romance’s delightful MARRYING THE BOSS’S DAUGHTER six-book continuity. So far, Emily Winters has thwarted her father’s attempts to marry her off. But has Daddy’s little girl finally met her matrimonial match? Find out in One Bachelor To Go (#1706) by Nicole Burnham.

  O is for the ornery cowboy who’s in for a life change when he is forced to share his home…and his heart with a gun-toting single mom and her kids, in Patricia Thayer’s Wyatt’s Ready-Made Family (#1707). It’s the latest title in Thayer’s continuing THE TEXAS BROTHERHOOD miniseries.

  V is for the great vibes you’ll get from Teresa Southwick’s Flirting With the Boss (#1708). This is the second title of Southwick’s IF WISHES WERE…terrific new miniseries in which three friends’ wishes magically come true.

  E is for the emotion you’ll feel as you read Saved by the Baby (#1709) by Linda Goodnight. In this heartwarming story, a desperate young mother’s quest to save her daughter’s life leads her back to the child’s father, her first and only love.

  Read all four of these fabulous stories. I guarantee they’ll get you in the mood for l-o-v-e!

  Mavis C. Allen

  Associate Senior Editor

  Wyatt’s Ready-Made Family

  PATRICIA THAYER

  To the family newlyweds:

  John and Annie Davenport

  Alissa and Tim Rawlins

  Daniel and Nora Powell

  May this be the beginning to a wonderful life together.

  Books by Patricia Thayer

  Silhouette Romance

  Just Maggie #895

  Race to the Altar #1009

  The Cowboy’s Courtship #1064

  Wildcat Wedding #1086

  Reilly’s Bride #1146

  The Cowboy’s Convenient Bride #1261

  *Her Surprise Family #1394

  *The Man, the Ring, the Wedding #1412

  †Chance’s Joy #1518

  †A Child for Cade #1524

  †Travis Comes Home #1530

  The Princess Has Amnesia! #1606

  †Jared’s Texas Homecoming #1680

  †Wyatt’s Ready-Made Family #1707

  Silhouette Special Edition

  Nothing Short of a Miracle #1116

  Baby, Our Baby! #1225

  *The Secret Millionaire #1252

  Whose Baby Is This? #1335

  PATRICIA THAYER

  has been writing for the past sixteen years and has published eighteen books with Silhouette. Her books have been nominated for the National Readers’ Choice Award, Virginia Romance Writers of America’s Holt Medallion, Orange Rose Contest and a prestigious RITA® Award. In 1997, Nothing Short of a Miracle won the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Special Edition.

  Thanks to the understanding men in her life—her husband of thirty-two years, Steve, and her three grown sons and two grandsons—Pat has been able to fulfill her dream of writing romance. Another dream is to own a cabin in Colorado, where she can spend her days writing and her evenings with her favorite hero, Steve. She loves to hear from readers. You can write to her at P.O. Box 6251, Anaheim, CA 92816-0251, or check her Web site at www.patriciathayer.com for upcoming books.

  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

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Why hadn’t she gotten the lock fixed?

  Maura Wells huddled with her young children in the upstairs hallway, her hearing honed in on an intruder scavenging around downstairs in the house. Oh, God, why doesn’t he just leave? There was nothing down there worth stealing.

  The slamming of another door pierced the silence. Jeff and Kelly jumped and she hugged them tighter. Then the sound of the intruder’s booted steps passed by the staircase. She held her breath, trying to control her shaking. At the same time praying he wasn’t coming up. She closed her eyes and the image of outraged Darren formed in the blackness. Her heart hammered in her chest. Could he have found her…so soon? Her lawyer had assured her…

  Maura drew several breaths, listening as the unwelcome guest went into the kitchen, then began opening cupboards. It was just like her ex-husband to make her suffer—make her wait for her punishment.

  She’d always known someday he would come after her. Well, she wasn’t just going to stand here helpless. No more. If she’d learned anything at the shelter, it was that she couldn’t let Darren make her a prisoner again, in her own home. But living in the country meant she couldn’t expect a quick response from the police. At least she’d had the presence of mind to call her neighbor, Cade. He was on his way. But how long would it take for him to get here?

  “Mommy, I’m scared,” her daughter whispered. “Make the bad man go away.”

  “I will, honey.” Fighting her own fears, Maura pushed the kids into her bedroom. “You two wait in here. I’m going to make him go away. Don’t come downstairs no matter what. Promise?”

  With nods from both her six-year-old son and her three-year-old daughter, Maura closed them inside her bedroom, then crept cautiously to the hall closet and took out an old rifle that had been left behind before she’d moved in. She suspected it wouldn’t shoot, not that she could pull the trigger anyway, but she wasn’t going to let the intruder know that.

  Maura started down the stairs. With each step, she struggled to slow her breathing. A small table lamp was on, casing a soft glow over the large sparsely furnished living room. Most everything in the house had been given to her secondhand, except the black duffel bag beside the front door.

  That belonged to the visitor.

  She stayed back in the shadows, knowing that if it was her ex-husband, there would be no reasoning with him, but she would do anything she had to do to keep him away from her kids. She listened at the sound of cupboard doors being opened and closed. Then the sound of boots on the bare floors told her he was coming toward her. Here was her chance to catch him by surprise.

  The huge shadow appeared, too big to be Darren. A strange relief ran through Maura, then she realized she faced a different kind of danger. He was a thief, maybe worse. She pointed the rifle at him. “Just hold it right there, mister.”

  “What the hell?” The man stopped at the entrance of the room.

  Maura bit back a gasp as she took in the tall, handsome stranger. He was dressed in a Wes
tern shirt and jeans with a big silver buckle on his belt. He had midnight-black hair long enough to brush against his collar. His eyes were a brilliant blue hooded by dark brows.

  “Raise your hands,” she said, fighting to keep the quiver out of her voice, and her hands steady.

  To say the least, Wyatt Gentry was surprised to find this pretty interloper in his house. By her state of dress, the long nightgown and her mussed, honey-blond hair, she’d been awakened from sleep. And she looked sexy as all get out. So she was the reason the inside of the house had looked so neat…so welcoming. Too bad the woman holding the rifle didn’t.

  He sure-as-hell didn’t want to talk to anyone holding a weapon at him. “I’m not here to cause any harm, ma’am.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have broken into my home in the first place.”

  Her home? “Why don’t you put the rifle down and we’ll talk about it?”

  “No! We’ll just wait until the sheriff gets here.” Her chocolate-brown eyes widened as she waved the rifle toward the sofa. “Go and sit down.”

  Wyatt started to walk across the polished hardwood floor, but decided he didn’t like this situation at all. And he needed to do something about it. Now. He swung around, grabbed the barrel of the rifle and jerked it from her hands. What he didn’t expect was for her to fight him like a sharp-clawed cat. Her small size didn’t diminish her strength as she pushed him off balance, but he took her with him when she refused to let go of the rifle. They ended up on the floor. When he finally got leverage, he rolled her over beneath him, then straddled her. She still didn’t give up the fight, causing her shapely body to rub against his, reminding him that she was nearly naked and very much a woman. The friction between them was like a jolt of electricity.

  “Will you stop fighting me so we can talk about this?” he asked when suddenly something hit him from behind.

  “You leave my mother alone,” a youngster said as a small fist plummeted him. Hard. Wyatt reach back and pulled a boy off him as he stood up.

  “Hey, kid. I’m not going to hurt anyone.” He held the small flailing body away from him. He glanced at the woman as she scurried from the floor to the little girl crying on the stairs.

  “Please, release my son and just take what you want,” the woman pleaded. “I have a little money in my purse. Just don’t hurt us.”

  Seeing the fear in the woman’s eyes, Wyatt hurried to reassure her that he wasn’t going to harm her or her family. “I’m not going to hurt anyone,” he insisted and tossed the rifle on the sofa. He doubted it would fire anyway. “And I don’t want your money. I’m only here because I own this house and property. I have a key.”

  Shock turned to puzzlement on the woman’s pretty face. “You bought this ranch?”

  He nodded. “As of three o’clock this afternoon when I signed the papers.”

  “Jeffrey, stop!” she commanded her still struggling son. “The man isn’t going to hurt us.”

  The boy finally stopped fighting, but continued his threatening stare as he was lowered to the floor and backed away toward his mother.

  Wyatt straightened. “I’m Wyatt Gentry. Sorry, I had no idea anyone was living in this house.”

  “I’m Maura Wells, my daughter, Kelly and son, Jeff. We’ve been staying here for a while…”

  “A while. You’re renting the place?”

  Her incredible dark brown eyes rounded before she glanced away. “I had an agreement with the owner—previous owner. But since you’re here now we should leave.”

  Wyatt had no idea he would be greeted by a full house. Why hadn’t the lawyer told him about the renters? How could he toss this woman and her kids out in the middle of the night? And where was her husband? He glanced at her ringless left hand.

  “There’s no need for you to leave—” he began.

  Just then the front door burst open and a tall man rushed in and headed straight for Wyatt. He grabbed a handful of his shirt. “If you laid one hand on any of them you’re going to be sorry—”

  “No, Cade, please, don’t,” Maura said as she stepped between them, then reached for the man’s arm. “It’s okay. This is Wyatt Gentry. He just bought the place.”

  Cade released him. “You bought this ranch?”

  Wyatt nodded. “As of today when I signed the papers.” He went to the duffel bag, pulled out the property title and handed it to him.

  Cade glanced over the legal agreement. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He looked at Wyatt as a ruddy color covered his cheeks. “I guess I owe you an apology,” he said and gave him back the documents. “I’m Cade Randell. We had no idea the property had sold.”

  A strange feeling came over Wyatt as he stared at Cade Randell. This was not how he’d planned to meet his half brother. He glanced away, fighting to stay focused on the problem at hand.

  Cade Randell turned to the woman. “Maura, why don’t you pack your things and you and the kids come home with me?”

  Wyatt stepped in. “Like I was telling Mrs. Wells,” Wyatt began, “there’s no need to leave in the middle of the night. Besides, I’m not going to toss out renters.”

  Maura spoke up. “I’m not exactly renting…this house,” she said timidly. “Cade got permission for me to live here until the place was sold. I guess that’s right now.”

  So Cade Randell had once again been her champion. Was something going on between these two?

  “It was like this,” Cade said, “I know the owner, Ben Roscoe, and he agreed to let Maura and her kids stay here for a while. I guess when he went on vacation, he neglected to explain the situation to his lawyer.” Cade exchanged another glance with Maura. “It’s just that this old place has been up for sale for over four years. No one thought it would be a problem for Maura to take the job of house-sitter.”

  Wyatt had had a long day, a long week with his drive from Arizona, not counting the endless arguments he’d had with his brother, Dylan, about him purchasing the once-Randell property. Now it was nearly midnight and he was exhausted.

  “Why don’t we hash this out tomorrow?” he suggested. “I can get a motel room and stay there tonight. And we can discuss the living arrangements in the morning.”

  He studied Maura Wells carefully. Why would a woman and her two kids be living in a deserted house? He didn’t like the scenario he came up with.

  “Mr. Gentry, I can’t make you leave your own house.”

  Wyatt took another look at her. Not a good idea. She had big brown eyes and fair, flawless skin. Her silky hair was the color of honey. When his body took notice of her attractiveness, he forced his gaze away and glanced around the room.

  “Listen,” he began, “I was told to expect to have to spend a lot of time cleaning to make this place livable so I wasn’t planning on moving in tonight anyway.” He placed his black cowboy hat on his head. “I’ll stop by in the morning.” He picked up his duffel bag and headed out the door.

  Maura was thrown by the stranger’s kindness. But that didn’t change the fact that she and the kids would be homeless in the morning. That meant she would need to find another place to live. Easier said than done. She didn’t have the kind of money it would take to relocate and to pay rent.

  “I still say you should come home and stay with Abby and me,” Cade suggested.

  Maura ignored the suggestion and turned to her son. “Jeff, take your sister back upstairs to bed. You can put her in my room.” She kissed Kelly, then her son. “Go, Kelly, I’ll be up soon.”

  “Promise?” her daughter asked.

  “I promise. You’re safe now.”

  After they both hurried up the steps, Maura turned back to Cade. “I can’t come home with you. You already have a houseful with Brandon and Henry James. I won’t intrude any more. I’ll think of something.”

  “I have a foreman’s cottage you could use. Not exactly in the best shape, but we could fix it up.”

  Maura had been lucky to find people like Abby and Cade Randell. Between her job and the house, they had h
elped her so much. She’d never be able to repay them. “I think you know I’m not afraid of hard work. But let’s talk about this in the morning. Sorry to bring you out so late.” She turned him toward the door. “Now, go home to your family.”

  Maura finally got Cade to leave. She started to turn off the light, but decided she’d leave it on just for tonight. She climbed the steps, realizing she’d done what she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do. She had gotten attached to this house, knowing full well that she couldn’t stay forever. But two months had been too short a time. She wanted to hate Wyatt Gentry, but she found she couldn’t. Instead, surprisingly, she was looking forward to his return tomorrow, especially since that meant her departure.

  Wyatt had been up since dawn, but he doubted Maura Wells had. So he hung around the motel café trying to come up with a solution for all of them. There weren’t any answers, especially if the woman and her kids couldn’t afford rent for another house.

  About seven-thirty, he pulled his truck up in front of the once white, two-story house. Home sweet home. His first ever. He raised an eyebrow at the peeling paint, the sagging porch, the weed-infested yard and flower beds.

  It was all his.

  No more trailer, no more campgrounds and traveling around. Wyatt was finally putting down roots. He had his dream, his own ranch. Best of all, none of it had Earl Keys’s name on it to remind him that he and Dylan were never wanted, they just came along as excess baggage with their mother. Twenty years ago, Sally Gentry had married a man who promised to take care of her and her twin sons. She believed that Keys was the answer to their prayers until they discovered that he only wanted them to help work his rough-stock business.

  No more. He’d worked for years riding in rodeos and working for rough-stock contractors. Now, the Rocking R was his. He belonged here, and never again would he feel like a hired hand. If he was going to work his fingers to the bone it would be because this land was his.