Still can’t get enough cowboys?
Popular Mills & Boon® Blaze® author Debbi Rawlins keeps readers in the saddle with her continuing miniseries
MADE IN MONTANA
Since the McAllisters opened a dude ranch catering to single women, the sleepy town of Blackfoot Falls has become a lot more interesting…
Get your hands on a hot cowboy with
BAREFOOT BLUE JEAN NIGHT
OWN THE NIGHT
ON A SNOWY CHRISTMAS NIGHT
YOU’RE STILL THE ONE
NO ONE NEEDS TO KNOW
June 2013
FROM THIS MOMENT ON
August 2013
And remember, the sexiest cowboys are Made in Montana!
Dear Reader,
One of the great joys of writing a series with recurring characters is the anticipation factor. For me, I mean. Ever since I wrote the first character sketch of Wallace Gunderson, that horrible man who appeared in the first book, I knew he would bring a lot of secrets and lies along with him. Enough to rock Blackfoot Falls down to the roots.
But, he also brought along troubled, angry Matt Gunderson, his son. Matt had run the moment he was able and became a bull-riding champion. Now he’s come back, and no one is more shocked than Rachel McAllister, who never got over the love of her life.
It’s not exactly a modern version of Romeo and Juliet, but it was even more fun to write than i’d imagined. I hope you like it, too.
All my best,
Debbi Rawlins
About the Author
DEBBI RAWLINS lives in central utah, out in the country, surrounded by woods and deer and wild turkeys. it’s quite a change for a city girl who didn’t even know where the state of Utah was until a few years ago. Of course, unfamiliarity has never stopped her. Between her junior and senior years of college, she spontaneously left her home in Hawaii and bummed around Europe for five weeks by herself. And much to her parents’ delight, returned home with only a quarter in her wallet.
You’re Still
the One
Debbi Rawlins
MILLS & BOON
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1
WITHOUT FEELING AN OUNCE of guilt, Rachel McAllister, still wearing her blue flannel pajamas and comfy robe, left her mother in the kitchen to make breakfast and plopped down on the leather couch in the den with her laptop. Today was her birthday and she was taking the day off. Well, not the whole day. That would be impossible unless she left the Sundance. Upstairs in the guest wing, a dozen women were in the midst of waking up, applying war paint or debating over which inappropriate outfit to wear for their sleigh ride through the foothills.
This was February in Montana, the temperature near freezing and no strongly worded advice Rachel posted on the Sundance’s website made a bit of difference. The women came dressed more to impress her brothers than to stay warm. God bless the McAllister boys. All three of them were terrific ranchers, even better eye candy, and the reservations by adventurous single women kept on coming. Good for the bottom line each month, not so good for Rachel’s sad little life.
She couldn’t complain, though, since it had been her idea to make part of the family homestead a dude ranch. They needed the income until their real business of raising cattle, and the economy in general, recovered. Then she’d be free again. Free to pursue a career, live in the bright lights of the city, wear high heels and orange sweaters that clashed horribly with her auburn hair, without anyone giving her a second look. And hopefully, barter her master’s degree for a cool job with a hotel chain that would send her to even cooler places.
But the ranch—her family—had paid for that graduate degree and she owed them big-time. They didn’t feel that way, of course. She was the youngest, the only girl, and her mother and brothers would do anything for her—including keeping her in the dark about the family’s floundering finances while paying her tuition. Yet she should’ve known…would have seen it if she hadn’t been so self-absorbed and living the good life in Dallas.
Through five generations of McAllisters the threethousandacre Sundance had been one of the most prosperous ranches around. Not once had it occurred to her that they were struggling just like any other business in the livestock industry that was dependent on beef consumption and gas prices.
No, she’d turned a blind eye for years, going to school, cashing the monthly expense checks they sent her…. The idea shamed her so much she couldn’t bear to think about it. And she wouldn’t. Not today. Not on her twenty-sixth birthday. She’d cut herself a break. Just for a few hours…
Her laptop stirred to life and she checked email first, grinning at the string of funny birthday messages from her college friends. Her sophomore roommate, Ashley, had sent an e-card of a male stripper strategically holding a birthday cake. Rachel laughed, glancing toward the door to make sure she was still alone.
She opened several more e-cards and found that everyone seemed to be on the same cheesy track. The semi-naked men would be far more amusing if she hadn’t been celibate for so damn long. Almost eight months since she’d returned home, and before that another four since she’d split from her casual relationship with Tom, a third-year law student. Great. Her dry spell was about to reach the anniversary mark.
Sighing, she clicked the mouse on last year’s birthday bash. Twenty-five, a milestone according to her friends who’d used the excuse to go all out. She smiled at the picture of Katy popping the cork. It had been eight-thirty, and they hadn’t even made it to their first club yet.
“Ah,
