The Cowboy's Twin Surprise Read online




  Can this rodeo star handle fatherhood?

  Anything can happen with Triple Creek Cowboys

  Despite his too-rowdy past, former rodeo star Devin Cole’s stunned when the woman he married after a whirlwind romance shows up pregnant with his twins...demanding a divorce. He convinces barrel rider Lacey Jenkins to give him six months to show he’s changed. But proving he can be a champion husband and father is the hardest—and most important—challenge he’s ever faced.

  “I’ll sign the divorce papers on one condition, Lacey.”

  Devin took a deep breath. “You stay here at the ranch until the babies are born. Afterward, if you still want me to, I’ll sign.”

  “Devin, I have a life—a family—in Oklahoma. I have to go home.” Lacey pushed to her feet. “It’s a wild idea.”

  “It probably is, but that’s the deal.” Devin forced himself to relax.

  “You know I could take you to court anyway.”

  “I know, but I’m really hoping you won’t. Give me a chance to show you that I can be a better person. That I can be a man who’ll show up for his family. If you don’t stay, you’ll never know.”

  There were twin spots of color high on Lacey’s cheekbones. “I need some time to think about this.”

  “You can have all the time you need.”

  Devin prayed that once she gave it some thought, she would want to stay. And he would have a second chance...

  Award-winning author Stephanie Dees lives in small-town Alabama with her pastor husband and two youngest children. A Southern girl through and through, she loves sweet tea, SEC football, corn on the cob and air-conditioning. For further information, please visit her website at stephaniedees.com.

  Books by Stephanie Dees

  Love Inspired

  Triple Creek Cowboys

  The Cowboy’s Twin Surprise

  Family Blessings

  The Dad Next Door

  A Baby for the Doctor

  Their Secret Baby Bond

  The Marriage Bargain

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  THE COWBOY’S

  TWIN SURPRISE

  Stephanie Dees

  And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

  —2 Corinthians 12:9

  For Riley. Thanks for always encouraging me to be my best self and for loving me even when I’m not. Being your mom is a privilege.

  Acknowledgments

  A book is never a solitary endeavor, and so many people helped me along the way with this book. Thanks to Melissa Jeglinski and Melissa Endlich for believing in this story and helping me define it.

  Thanks to my critique partner, Sierra Donovan, and best beta reader evah, Janet Sallis. And a special thanks to those people who propped me up when I needed a friend, an ear or an idea bouncer: Sarah Kate Newton, Brenda Minton, Tina Radcliffe. You’re irreplaceable.

  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 Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from A Soldier’s Prayer by Jenna Mindel

  Chapter One

  Devin Cole let his truck roll to a stop at the end of the lane, just short of the driveway to the family ranch. He slid his Narcotics Anonymous newcomers coin between his fingers and back again. He was measuring his life in days and hours now...moments, maybe. One hour since his last meeting. Six days out of rehab. Thirty-six days clean. Thirty-nine days and seven hours since he’d stopped running from God.

  Forty days since he’d messed things up with Lacey—the only friend he’d managed to keep on his not-so-slow slide into recklessness and addiction. It had been a long time since his Sunday school days, but in the Bible, wasn’t it always forty days that people spent in the wilderness?

  A warm breeze wafted through the open window, bringing with it the scent of freshly turned dirt and ribs in the smoker. The sound of calves in the field. Springtime in Alabama.

  His eyes went from the farmhouse peeking through the trees to linger on the white welcome chip sliding through his fingers. Chances were pretty good he’d gotten a better welcome from NA than he’d get from his brothers.

  Unfortunately, his options were limited. As in, he didn’t have any. After he’d shattered his ankle, his days in the rodeo were over. He’d tried to continue, relying more and more on prescriptions and alcohol to fight through the pain. But he’d failed. Failed his corporate sponsors. Failed his friends and family. And most of all failed himself.

  He’d spent the past six days and his last thousand bucks driving cross-country, trying to make amends for the wrongs he’d done. And he’d learned apologies went only so far to repair burned bridges.

  He put his old truck in gear and drove the rest of the way to the house. Even in the waning daylight, the white two-story clapboard looked a little more worn than it had the last time he’d seen it, the sunny yellow porch swing peeling and faded. No cheery flowers filled the beds that lined the walkway.

  The screen door opened and his older brother Tanner stepped out in his dusty boots. Right away, Devin knew from the look in Tanner’s eyes this wasn’t going to be a prodigal son welcome. No warm embraces. No parties thrown on his behalf. He nodded, to himself, mostly. A firm let’s-get-on-with-it nod.

  Devin picked up the cane he had to use now that his pain wasn’t dulled by drugs. He slid off the old leather seat, relief flooding his body when his feet touched the ground.

  Home.

  Tanner’s blue eyes searched Devin’s for signs that he was using, and Devin felt a pang of regret. With a barely suppressed sigh, Tanner pulled the door open wide. “Come on in. I’ve got coffee on.”

  Devin followed his brother into the farmhouse, noting the threadbare rug on the floor and the worn leather couch, still the same one from when they were kids. Although they’d never been wealthy, they’d gotten by, but now... It almost seemed that the ranch had aged ten years in the three since he’d seen it.

  With a practiced economy of movement, Tanner took two mugs from the cabinet by the sink and filled them with coffee. “What happened to the big fancy truck you were driving last time you were here?”

  “Sold it to pay for rehab.”

  Tanner’s eyes flicked to his. “And your horse?”

  “Left her with Lacey.”

  A dark eyebrow quirked. “Another debt?”

  “You could say that.” A memory of a brown-eyed girl with laughter in her eyes flashed in his mind. Devin took a swig of the coffee and suppressed the wish for something stronger. Because running from uncomfortable emotions was how he got himself in this mess in the first place, or at least that was what the counselor at rehab told h
im.

  The fatigue of the last six weeks pulled hard at him. He took off his ball cap and scrubbed a hand through hair that could use a good trim. “I’m sorry, Tanner. I don’t even know where to start to say how sorry I am.”

  Tanner still didn’t smile. “What do you want, Devin?”

  “I want to come home.”

  At his brother’s sharply expelled breath, Devin started to panic, just a little. “You sacrificed a lot for me. I know that. And I wasted the opportunities.”

  After their parents died, Tanner had finished the job of raising him. He’d scrimped and saved and bought Devin his first cutting horse. He’d been at every event from the first to the time Devin kicked loose of Red Hill Springs and everyone in it.

  Tanner crossed his arms. “If you’re wanting me to argue with you about that, you’re gonna be waiting a long time.”

  His hat literally in his hands, Devin closed his eyes and sent a wordless prayer toward Heaven before he opened them again and looked Tanner in the eyes. “I’m an addict. I’ll always be an addict, but I don’t have to be a bad person. Please give me a chance to prove I can do better.”

  “We’ve been down this road before.”

  Devin went still. There was nothing he could say or do to change his brother’s mind. Because Tanner was right. It was a familiar refrain from his teenage years—even before the drugs, Devin had struggled. They had been down this road before where Devin had begged and pleaded and unfailingly messed things up. So he waited and he wondered if there was anyone left who would take him in until he could find a job.

  Tanner didn’t tap his foot or jiggle his leg or any of the things normal people did. He simply stared into the black coffee in his cup until he reached a decision. He looked up. “I could use the help around here.”

  Devin let out all his anxiety in one pent-up breath.

  His brother held up a finger. “But there are ground rules, Dev, and if you break them, there are no second chances.”

  In the past, Devin would’ve brushed aside the bit about the rules. Ground rules were for boring people who didn’t have any fun. Now, Devin was clinging to the rules by his fingernails, just to hold on to his sobriety. He asked Tanner quietly, “What do you want me to do?”

  “One. You go to meetings every day. Two. You always tell me where you’re going to be. Three. There are no rock stars at Triple Creek Ranch. You pull your own weight.”

  It didn’t sound like much but Devin knew from experience that pulling his weight around the ranch was a full-time job. Working the farm was going to be hard with his injury but it wouldn’t be impossible.

  He could promise Tanner that he was different, that he’d matured past the kid who’d looked for approval in all the wrong places, but promises didn’t mean much. He wanted more than anything to prove to his brother that he could change. To prove to himself that he could be more than just some rodeo guy who partied a lot and nearly got himself killed. He said quietly, “Thanks, Tanner.”

  “Don’t make me regret this, Devin.” The man who’d started raising Devin when he was still practically a boy himself had a world of disappointment in his eyes. He jerked a thumb at the stairs. “You can have your old room.”

  Devin nodded. He pushed back from the table and limped onto the porch of the farmhouse. He’d run far and fast away from here when he’d turned eighteen, too big for these parts. Maybe it was fitting that when there was nothing left of him, he ran home. If he was lucky, maybe it was here that he’d find all the pieces of himself he’d lost along the way.

  Two months later

  Lacey Jenkins checked her GPS one last time as she drove through Red Hill Springs, Alabama. The flower boxes that lined the street were filled with geraniums, and American flags on the lampposts fluttered in the wind. All decked out for the upcoming Memorial Day holiday, the town was adorable, but she wasn’t having it. She’d been stewing for three and a half months now, ever since she’d woken up alone in a hotel room in Vegas, ink barely dry on a quickie marriage certificate proclaiming her married to rodeo superstar Devin Cole.

  She should’ve listened to the voice of warning in her head—the one that sounded strangely like her dad, coaching her around the barrels when she was a kid. “Ride from here, Lacey-girl,” he’d say, as he tapped his forehead under the brim of his cowboy hat. “Not from here” as he tapped his heart. “The heart will betray you. The head will lead you.” But she’d been caught up in the adventure of it all. The romance. She and Devin had been friends—best friends—for years, even as he seemed to get more and more reckless. That weekend in Vegas after the rodeo competition ended, he’d seemed more like his old self. Sweeter and more thoughtful than he’d been in a while.

  Until he’d disappeared the morning after they’d gotten married. And then, a month later, he’d had the nerve to drop off his horse for her like some kind of consolation prize.

  So yeah, if she’d been mad before, now she was boiling. He’d left her and he’d left his horse.

  Her GPS calmly announced that she’d arrived at her destination. Nerves fluttered in her stomach, a fact she noted with some irritation. She was a world champion barrel racer. She was supposed to be immune to nerves.

  Turning into the drive at the farmhouse, she slowed to look around. She had the right address, but this didn’t look anything like the bustling ranch she’d imagined as Devin had talked about it back when they were still friends. But still, there was a sunny yellow swing on the front porch with a fresh coat of paint and brightly colored zinnias filling the flower beds in front of the house.

  She eased her truck to a stop so Reggie wouldn’t be jostled. The big horse had been patient for the duration of the long trip, but he had to be as antsy as she was to get out of the truck after days on the road. She stepped out onto the gravel drive, pressing a hand into her lower back and leaning into a stretch.

  It had taken her a full two days to get here, and once she set a few things straight with Devin, she’d be turning right around to go back.

  Lacey reached for a file of papers she’d left on the passenger side of the truck, and when she turned back around she was eye level with three sets of well-worn boots. Her gaze skimmed the length of long denim-clad legs and stalled out at the world champion rodeo buckle at the waist of the jeans on the right before continuing upward to meet three identical sets of dark brown eyes.

  She gulped. The Cole brothers were unilaterally staring at her, and to be honest, it was a little bit intimidating. But at least she knew she was in the right place.

  Lacey flicked a glance at the one standing on the left side of Devin—the oldest brother, Tanner, she thought—and saw his unsmiling eyes travel from her to Devin and back again. Dark hair curled underneath a faded red ball cap. He settled it a little farther on his head and continued to stare at her.

  She swallowed hard as her vision grayed around the edges. Wow. She must be more tired than she thought she was.

  “Lacey? What are you doing here?” Devin’s words sliced through her exhaustion and, despite girding herself with all that anger, they still had the power to hurt her.

  She looked Devin Cole right in the eyes and said, “I want a divorce.”

  The color drained from Devin’s face, and she felt a perverse pleasure that she’d managed to shock him.

  “Divorce?” The other brother’s head snapped straight. “You’re married?”

  Devin remained unnaturally still.

  “I’ll just unload Reggie, then.” Tanner shifted away as if the tension strung between Lacey and Devin would snap under the pressure. He clambered down from the porch and lowered the back of the trailer. She could hear his voice as he spoke softly to Devin’s cutting horse, backing him gently down the ramp.

  Devin’s gaze never broke with Lacey’s, but he said, “Garrett, feel free to move along anytime.”

  The middle brother, with a m
op of unruly dark curls and studious-looking glasses, shook his head. “Nope. Uh-uh. Sounds like you need legal representation. I’m not going anywhere.” He grinned. “Plus, I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

  Lacey refused to be the first one to look away. But her head was spinning again, her husband’s handsome, serious face swimming before her eyes. She groped blindly behind her for the side of the truck, her file of papers slipping from her fingers to scatter on the ground.

  The last thing she saw before she crumpled was the fear on Devin’s face as he dropped his cane and leaped down the stairs, his strong arms scooping her up just before she hit the ground.

  * * *

  Devin lifted Lacey into his arms, concern for her blocking out all other thoughts. “Garrett, get a doctor out here.”

  “Want me to call an ambulance?”

  “No, she’s terrified of hospitals. Just call someone. Please?” Devin carried Lacey up the porch steps. He managed to pull the screen door slightly ajar and kick it open. Her face was pale—too pale—against the dark shine of her hair.

  He laid her gently on the wide leather couch, heart thudding in his chest. “Lace? Come on, girl, you gotta wake up. You’re scaring me.”

  Just when he thought he’d made peace with the things he’d done when he was using, she showed up with this gem. Married?

  He didn’t really question what he’d been thinking, but what had she been thinking marrying him? The last thing Lacey needed was to be married to a washed-up rodeo cowboy with a drug-addiction problem.

  Especially one who didn’t even remember their wedding even happened.

  Of all the stupid things he’d done that he didn’t remember, destroying his relationship with Lacey was the worst. She was the best thing that ever happened to him and he’d screwed it up, along with the rest of his life.

  But marriage? He couldn’t even fathom it.

  “Come on, Lacey, wake up. I know you still have a few things to say to me.”