The Creed Legacy (The Creed Cowboys)
Linda Lael Miller
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Rough-and-tumble rodeo cowboy Brody Creed likes life on the move. Until a chance encounter with his long-estranged twin brother brings him "home" for the first time in years. Suddenly Brody is in Creed territory—at thirty-three, he's a restless bad boy among family with deep ties to the land and each other. And a secret past haunts him as he tries to make plans for his future.
Carolyn Simmons is looking for Mr. Right in Lonesome Bend, as the ticktock of her biological clock gets ever louder. Then she falls for gorgeous Brody Creed, the opposite of everything she wants. Until lassoing his wild heart becomes everything both of them need.
he’d already had his daily ration of those. “You tried to warn me, didn’t you?” she prattled on, dropping the remains of her supper into the trash and then washing her hands again. She squirted a dab of lotion into one palm and then rubbed the stuff in with vigor. “You made your opinion of Brody Creed absolutely clear, but did I pay attention? Did I keep my defenses up?” “Reoooooow,” Winston said wearily. “This is ridiculous,” Carolyn said, addressing herself now, instead of the cat. Was
more bookkeeping to do—there was always more bookkeeping to do—but, being in a lowgrade funk, even after a horseback ride, Carolyn decided not to do today what she could put off until tomorrow. Things were usually slow in the shop on weekday mornings and, besides, she’d be fresh then. Capable of left-brain pursuits like balancing debits and credits in a virtual ledger. She’d brew another cup of herbal tea and sew, she decided. Let her ever-energetic right brain run the show for the rest of the
behind the wheel and started up the engine. He should have been thinking about downed fences and stray calves and generally staying on Conner’s good side, but his mind was stuck on Carolyn. Nice horse? What the devil was that supposed to mean? Fifteen minutes later, he and Barney pulled in at the main ranch house. He let Barney out of the truck, watched as he and Valentino met in the driveway and sized each other up. Conner strode out of the barn while the dogs were still getting to know each
proof that people stretched the truth, calling herself Carol?—with dark hair and brown eyes. He was a technical writer, divorced, with no children, and he’d moved to Lonesome Bend only a month before. Since he worked at home, he hadn’t made many friends. He liked to cook, loved dogs, but was violently allergic to cats. Carolyn, mindful of Winston, gently dispatched Richard to the recycle bin. The other candidate was named Ben, and he, like Richard, was a fairly recent transplant to the
Weaver,” Carolyn said, her still-wet boots making a squishy crunch in the gravel as she approached the front door. He was a few moments remembering what she meant by the term, but then it came to him that she was referring to Primrose Sullivan’s picture, the one he’d bought at the shop and insisted she deliver. He’d have to keep it over at the cabin for a while, of course, but he did have a spot picked out for it. The doors and locks had been installed, and Brody found the key among the others