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Nobody can resist Montana Mavericks! From Whitehorn to Thunder Canyon to Rust Creek Falls, the Big Sky cowboys have been roping in readers for decades. Now New York Times bestselling author Allison Leigh kicks off a special anniversary series with Destined for the Maverick, a short and sexy prequel sure to get you in the maverick mood!
Rust Creek Ramblings
Addie McBride might be the most adorable construction worker we’ve ever seen. But there’s something a little suspicious about Rust Creek Falls’ newest handyperson. Rumor has it she used to work in a big-city shopping mall—and that her only building experience is stacking piles of merino wool sweaters. So how in the world did she wind up on Jack Lawson’s construction crew? Brace yourself, dear readers, as our Rust Creek cowboy meets his total opposite—who might just be his perfect match!
And don’t miss Million-Dollar Maverick by Christine Rimmer, the first installment of Montana Mavericks: 20 Years in the Saddle!
Destined for the Maverick
Allison Leigh
MILLS & BOON
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Dedication
For Greg
ALLISON LEIGH
There is a saying that you can never be too rich or too thin. Allison doesn’t believe that, but she does believe that you can never have enough books! When her stories find a way into the hearts—and bookshelves—of others, Allison says she feels she’s done something right. Making her home in Arizona with her husband, she enjoys hearing from her readers at [email protected] or P.O. Box 40772, Mesa, AZ 85274-0772.
Contents
“Montana?” The word was a comment in and of itself simply because it was practically a screech at the top of her coworker’s lungs. So much so that it drew the attention of the trio of teenage girls who were browsing the rack of clearance-priced jeans. “What do you mean you’re moving to Montana?”
Addie McBride managed a calm smile, even though inside she was a mass of bouncing nerves, and continued folding the cap-sleeved T-shirts she was stacking on the table in the front of the store. The Cincinnati, Ohio, mall where Honeyque was located was typically quiet for the middle of the morning in the middle of April. It was also the middle of the school week, and from one corner of her eye, Addie kept an eye on the girls. If it had been a vacation day for students, the clothing store would have been busier, and she’d bet they were cutting classes.
“I mean I’m moving to Montana,” she told Daphne again. Maybe once she started her life there, she would lose the cynicism she’d acquired that made her automatically suspicious of three giggling teenage girls.
Daphne rolled her eyes and continued plying the portable steamer over the dresses she was hanging. “I got that, Addie. The question is why? Honeyque doesn’t have any stores in Montana, much less this. . .what did you call the town? Brown Creek River? Might as well be Timbuktu.”
“Rust Creek Falls,” Addie corrected with a laugh. “Remember that woman I’ve been telling you about? Theone from Bootstraps who went to Montana to help with the recovery efforts after it was flooded out last summer? I saw her on the national news and started following her blog about it,” she prompted.
“The one who moved there and got all hitched up with a cowboy as a result?” Daphne looked disbelieving. “You’re moving because of that? Because you want a man? You had more dates last week than I’ve had in a month! You’re too picky, that’s the problem.”
For most of her life, Addie had been accused of talking too much. And she wished now that she’d just kept her mouth shut. Just because she’d been moved by Lissa Roarke’s blog regarding her experiences in the small Montana town and the dignity of the Rust Creek people who lived there didn’t mean that Addie’s young coworker would share the dream that had tugged Addie into making such a monumental change in her life.
“I’m not picky,” she said. And she wasn’t about to tell Daphne that she did hope to find a man. Yes, she’d had a few dates recently. And they’d been as go-nowhere as always. She just couldn’t find the kind of man who wanted the same old-fashioned things she wanted. Not here in Cincinnati. “I’m moving because I want a change. I’m leaving next week.” And she was crossing her fingers that her fifteen-year-old car, Edith, would stand up to the drive, because even as expensive as gasoline had become, it was still cheaper to drive the long way than to fly.
Daphne went from disbelief to shock. “So soon?”
“I have a week of vacation on the books, so I’m using that as half of my two-week notice. If I make good time, I’ll have a few days to get settled before I start my new job.”
“In retail?”
Again, she wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “It’s a, um, a new development there,” she said vaguely.
