Millionaire Cowboy Seeks Wife. Terry Mclaughlin

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Millionaire Cowboy Seeks Wife - Terry Mclaughlin Mills & Boon Superromance

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or trampled. Dreamers, the pair of them.

      Ellie had always been the one who soothed the pain and patched up the pieces. But knowing that Jody would always have a home, that she would always be secure in her family’s love—that’s what made the work and the worries worth the effort.

      The phone was getting its battery recharged in the cradle on the nightstand, and Jody was sprawled on her back with her nose tent-poled up inside some newsprint tabloid. Teen magazines were strewn across the spread. Wasn’t it just last week she’d been working her way through Jenna’s collection of children’s classics?

      Ellie studied the nearest magazine cover, searching for a conversation topic in one of the neon-print headlines. “So, who’s hot and who’s not?”

      “Oh, you know—the usual.” Jody dropped the gossip paper on the floor and scrambled to her knees to gather the mess on her bed into a neat pile. She clutched it all to her chest with a defensive glance at Ellie. “Gran bought these for me.”

      “That’s fine, hon.”

      Ellie shifted from one foot to the other, feeling as uncomfortable as her daughter looked. She didn’t like the idea that Jody might want to hide things from her. And worse, she didn’t know how to talk to her daughter about the need for deceptions. It was as if she and Jody were slipping away from each other, too fast, too far, as if the same mysterious metamorphosis that was turning Jody into a grown, independent woman would also turn her into a stranger.

      Ellie grasped at the few moments she could spare for her daughter tonight, longing to share a sliver of whatever Jody thought was important. She walked into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “Is there anyone in particular who’s hot right now?”

      Jody hesitated, and then pulled a tabloid from the middle of the stack and set it on the bed. Fitz Kelleran’s handsome face grinned up at them both. “Is he here yet?”

      Ellie nodded. “Yep.”

      “Oh, my God.” Jody edged closer. “Have you seen him?”

      “Talked to him just a while ago.”

      “Oh, my God.” Jody stared at the cover. “What does he look like? I mean, you know, does he really look like this?”

      “I’ll tell you exactly what he looks like.” Ellie lifted a hand to fan her face. “Oh. My. God.”

      Jody shrieked and flopped across the bed to sweep the tabloid off the floor. “Listen to this,” she said, flipping pages until she found what she was looking for. “‘Bond Bombshell Samantha Hart gave live-in boyfriend Fitz Kelleran a kung-fu kick in the teeth when she announced on nationwide television that she was leaving him. Fitz heard the news on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno while sitting at home in his TV room, along with several million of his fellow dumpees. Samantha’s been spotted in several Hollywood hot spots, with several Hollywood hotshots, while Kelleran’s howling his Hart out with the coyotes, shooting on location in the Montana wilderness.’”

      Jody glanced up. “This isn’t exactly the wilderness.”

      Ellie picked up the magazine with Fitz’s cover. He suddenly seemed a little more interesting—and a lot easier to deal with—now that she knew that spectacular exterior masked a dumpee’s interior. Still, it was a bit unsettling to be staring at this glamour shot of the flesh-and-blood man she’d been speaking to an hour or so ago. “You believe everything you read in these things?”

      Jody rolled her eyes. “No.”

      She leaned over Ellie’s shoulder and pointed to a photo of Fitz in his Justice, D.O.A. attorney’s suit—tie askew, hair falling over his forehead, a briefcase dangling from one hand and a gun clutched in the other. “Are his eyes really that blue?”

      “Bluer.”

      “Whoa. Does he look, you know—” Jody wrinkled her nose. “Kind of mean?”

      “Like in this picture?”

      “No, I mean, like, mean. Scary.”

      Ellie remembered that smile searing a hot trail through her midsection and felt another blush coming on. Oh, yeah…scary. She shook her head at her foolish reaction and handed the magazine to Jody. “No, he doesn’t seem that way at all.”

      Jody smoothed her hand over the cover. “I can hardly wait to meet him.”

      “Jody, we talked about this.” Ellie shoved to her feet. “You know I don’t want you bothering those people.”

      “I wouldn’t be, honest. Trish even asked me to help.”

      “I especially don’t want you getting in Trish’s way. She looks like she’s got more than she can handle as it is.”

      “Aw, Mom—”

      “I really don’t want to have this argument again.” Ellie closed her eyes for a moment to block out her daughter’s mutinous glare. “I came up to say good night. Will and I are heading out to round up some more stock for the second unit work in the morning.”

      Jody tossed the magazines on the nightstand. “Gran made one of your favorites.”

      “I know. Lasagna.” Ellie bent down to smack a loud kiss on Jody’s head. “Have seconds for me, okay?”

      “All right. Night.”

      “Night.” Ellie hesitated in the doorway, knowing she’d mangled another moment and wishing she could start fresh. There was one edict she could reconsider: her ban on movie meddling. Keeping Jody away from the film crew made her a virtual prisoner in her own house. “Tell you what. If you can haul your butt out of bed in time, I’ll take you with me to watch them film.”

      “Really?”

      “You have to promise to stay close and do exactly what I tell you.”

      “I promise.” Jody jumped off the bed and threw her arms around Ellie’s waist. Her scent was powdery cologne and bubble gum, and her head bumped Ellie’s chin. So tall, so soon. So scary. “Thanks, Mom.”

      Ellie wrapped her arms around her daughter. “You won’t be thanking me when I wake you up before the crack of dawn.”

      “Yes I will.”

      “We’ll see.” Ellie squeezed her tight. “Gotta go.”

      “Bye, Mom.” Jody squeezed her back. “Love you.”

      “Love you, too.” Ellie held her breath and held on tight. She didn’t want to be the first to let go.

      JENNA TUCKED THE TEA TOWELS neatly into the proper drawer and sighed with satisfaction as she glanced around the tidy space. Her kitchen, her refuge, done up in cheery yellows and warm, honey-toned woods. She spent her days keeping her little family and her small corner of the world just as tidy, just as cheery. The soothing routines had been her salvation since her husband had died, and she clung to them still.

      She moved about the room, pulling supplies out of storage, and then eased into the familiar routine of fixing one of Will’s favorites:

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