The Wyoming Cowboy. Rebecca Winters

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The Wyoming Cowboy - Rebecca Winters Mills & Boon American Romance

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a place to go horseback riding and probably lots of other things.”

      Her son had never been on a horse. Neither had she. “You mean like a cowboy?” She nodded. “Where is it?”

      “In Wyoming.”

      “Where’s that?”

      “If you’re interested, I’ll show you on the computer.”

      “Okay.”

      He followed her into her bedroom where she had her laptop. In a second she’d brought up a map of the United States. “We live here, in Ohio.” She pointed to Cleveland. “Now, watch my finger. You have to cross Indiana, Illinois, Iowa and South Dakota to get to Wyoming, right here.”

      She could hear his mind working. “How long would we be gone?”

      “A week.”

      “That’s a long time.” His voice wobbled. “I don’t want to go.”

      Tracy had been afraid of that answer, but she understood. It meant leaving the only security he’d ever known. Going to stay with his aunt Natalie and play with his cousin Cory, or having an overnighter on the weekend with his grandparents, who only lived an hour away, was different.

      “We don’t have to. These men know your daddy died and they’d like to do something nice for you, but it’s your decision, Johnny. Before I turn off the computer, would you like to see some pictures Mr. Lundgren sent so you could see what it looks like?”

      He sighed. “I guess.”

      Tracy typed in the web address and clicked. Up popped a colored photograph of the Teton Mountain Range with a few pockets of snow. The scene was so spectacular she let out a slight gasp. In the bottom of the picture was the layout of the Teton Valley Dude Ranch surrounded by sage.

      A “whoa” from Johnny told her his attention had been captured. She read the description below the picture out loud.

      “The dude ranch is located along the legendary Snake River in the shadow of the magnificent Teton Mountain Range. It’s just five miles from the town of Jackson, a sophisticated mountain resort. Fifteen minutes away are world-class skiing areas.

      “This 1,700-acre ranch operates as a cattle ranch with its own elk and deer herds, eagles and bears. There’s fishing along the three miles of the Snake. At elevations from 6,200 to 7,300 feet, summers bring average temperatures of eighty degrees and low humidity.

      “Mountaineering, fly-fishing, white-water rafting, wildlife expeditions, horseback riding, photo safaris, hiking and camping trips, stargazing, bird watching, ballooning, a visit to the rodeo, are all included when you stay on the ranch. Among the amenities you’ll enjoy are a game room, a swimming pool, a babysitting service, laundry services and the use of a car for local transportation.”

      Johnny nudged her. “What’s white water?”

      She’d been deep in thought. “There’s a picture here of some people in a raft running the rapids. Take a look.”

      His eyes widened. “You mean we’d do that if we went there?”

      “If we wanted to.”

      He looked up at her. “When would we go?”

      So he was interested. She felt a sudden lift of her spirits. “How about as soon as school is out? After our trip is over, we’ll fly back to Cleveland and stay with Grandma and Grandpa for a month. Why don’t you think about it, and let me know tonight before you go to bed?”

      “Can I see the rest of the pictures?”

      “Sure. You know how to work the computer. While you do that, I’m going to start dinner.” With her fingers crossed, she got up from her swivel chair so he could sit and look at everything. He needed something to bring him out of his shell. Maybe a trip like this would help.

      A half hour later he came running into the kitchen where she’d made spaghetti. “Mom—you should see the elks. They have giant horns!”

      “You mean antlers.”

      “Oh, yeah. I forgot.”

      She hunkered down and gave him a hug. “It’s pretty exciting stuff, huh.”

      He stared at her with a solemn expression. “Do you want to go?”

      Oh, my precious son. “If you do.”

      JUNE 7

      Jackson, Wyoming

      IT WAS LATE Friday afternoon when the small plane from Salt Lake City, Utah, started to make its descent. The pilot came on over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, you’re about to land at the only commercial airport located inside a U.S. national park.”

      Johnny reached for Tracy’s hand.

      “We’re flying over the Greater Yellowstone region with forests, mountains, wilderness areas and lakes as far as the eye can see. Ahead is the majestic Teton Range. You’ll see the Snake River and the plains around it in a patchwork of colors.”

      Tracy found it all glorious beyond description, but when the Grand Teton came into view, knifing into the atmosphere, every passenger was struck dumb with awe.

      “If you’ll look below, we’re coming up on Jackson Hole.”

      Seeing it for the first time, Tracy could understand the reason for its name. It was a narrow valley surrounded by mountains and probably presented a challenge for the pilot to land safely. She clung to Johnny’s hand. Before long, their plane touched down on the tarmac and taxied to the gate.

      After it came to a stop, she unclasped their seat belts. “Are you all right, honey?”

      He nodded. “That was scary.”

      “I agree, but we’re here safe and sound now.” She reached for her purse above the seat. “Let’s go.”

      They followed the other eight passengers out the exit to the tiny terminal. The second they entered the one-story building, she heard a deep male voice call her name.

      Tracy looked to her left and saw a tall, lean cowboy in jeans and a Western shirt. With his hard-muscled physique, he stood out from everyone else around him. This was no actor from a Western movie set. From his well-worn black Stetson to his cowboy boots, everything about him shouted authentic.

      Johnny hugged her side. “Who’s that?” he whispered.

      The thirtyish-looking stranger must have heard him because he walked over and reached out to shake Johnny’s hand. “My name’s Carson Lundgren. I’m the man who sent your mom the letter inviting you to the ranch. You have to be John.” His eyes traveled over Tracy’s son with a compassion she could feel.

      He nodded.

      “Have you found your stomach yet, or is it still up in the air?” His question made Johnny laugh. He couldn’t have said anything to break the ice faster. “I’ll tell you a secret. When I was your age and my grandpa took me on

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