Sherryl Woods - The Cowboy and the New Year's Baby

Hardy told her, his voice filled with awe.

“Is she okay?” Trish asked, struggling to sit up. “She’s not too little, is she? She’s early, not by much, but still, it would have been better if she’d waited.”

“You’re telling me,” Hardy said dryly.

“Let me see her.”

Hardy stripped off his flannel shirt and wrapped the baby in it. She snuggled in, looking as contented as if this weren’t her first minute in the real world. He glanced at his watch. It was midnight on the dot. This little one had been in quite a rush to greet the new millennium.

Grinning, he placed the little sweetheart gently in her mama’s arms. “Happy New Year, darlin’.”

Dear Reader,

Happy Anniversary! We’re kicking off a yearlong celebration in honor of Silhouette Books’ 20th Anniversary, with unforgettable love stories by your favorite authors, including Nora Roberts, Diana Palmer, Sherryl Woods, Joan Elliott Pickart and many more!

Sherryl Woods delivers the first baby of the new year in The Cowboy and the New Year’s Baby, which launches AND BABY MAKES THREE: THE DELACOURTS OF TEXAS. And return to Whitehorn, Montana, as Laurie Paige tells the story of an undercover agent who comes home to protect his family and finds his heart in A Family Homecoming, part of MONTANA MAVERICKS: RETURN TO WHITEHORN.

Next is Christine Rimmer’s tale of a lady doc’s determination to resist the charming new hospital administrator. Happily, he proves irresistible in A Doctor’s Vow, part of PRESCRIPTION: MARRIAGE. And don’t miss Marie Ferrarella’s sensational family story set in Alaska, Stand-In Mom.

Also this month, Leigh Greenwood tells the tale of two past lovers who must be Married by High Noon in order to save a child. Finally, opposites attract in Awakened By His Kiss, a tender love story by newcomer Judith Lyons.

Join the celebration; treat yourself to all six Special Edition romance novels each month!

Best,

Karen Taylor Richman

Senior Editor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Whether she’s living in California, Florida or Virginia, Sherryl Woods always makes her home by the sea. A walk on the beach, the sound of waves, the smell of the salt air, all provide inspiration for this writer of more than sixty romance and mystery novels. Sherryl hopes you’re enjoying these latest entries in the AND BABY MAKES THREE series for Silhouette Special Edition. You can write to Sherryl, or—from April through December—stop by and meet her at her bookstore, Potomac Sunrise, 308 Washington Avenue, Colonial Beach, VA 22443.

Harlan Adams welcomes the Delacourts!

and announces that his White Pines family is expanding

Baby Laura,

daughter of Trish Delacourt,

arrived promptly at midnight

New Year’s Eve.

She was assisted

into this world

by bachelor Hardy Jones,

the man destined

to be her new daddy.

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

Country-western singer Laurie Jensen kept her gaze fastened on her husband as she sang her latest megahit at the End of the Road Saloon in Garden City, Texas. It was New Year’s Eve and she and Harlan Patrick had taken over the bar and were hosting a private bash for the ranch hands from White Pines. The bar was packed with members of the Adams family, hands and their guests, but based on the adoring look on Laurie’s face and the rapt expression on his, she and Harlan Patrick might as well have been all alone. Married for over a year now, they were still besotted with each other.

Hardy Jones watched with a disgusted shake of his head. It pretty much seemed to Hardy as if every male he knew was succumbing to love. First his boss and Laurie, then his buddy, Slade Sutton, and Laurie’s assistant, Val. Watching the two couples tonight was giving him a first-class case of hives.

Not that he had anything against romance. Far from it. He loved women. He loved the delicate, feminine scent of them. After a long day with a herd of cows, just the soft, floral aroma of perfume was enough to kick his hormones into overdrive. The shimmering silk of long hair glistening in the sun was enough to conjure up thoughts of a fragrant curtain of curls teasing his flesh while making love. Beyond that, he appreciated the way a woman felt in his arms, the sheer wonder of all those lush curves.

Tonight, in a roomful of available, sensuous women, it seemed to him that irresistible temptation lurked everywhere. In fact it was a little worse than usual tonight because he was all alone and determined to stay that way.

Not five minutes ago a gorgeous redhead he’d been out with a few times had sidled up to him and whispered an indecent suggestion in his ear. He’d swallowed hard, fought off a surge of testosterone and turned her down.

“Not tonight, darlin’.” It had taken an act of will to get the words out.

Looking disappointed, she’d run a vivid red fingernail along his cheek. His temperature had skyrocketed, but his willpower had remained firm.

“Another time, then?” she’d suggested.

“Count on it.”

There had been others. From the moment he’d walked into the bar, it had been like seeing his past flash before his eyes. Los Piños, where White Pines ranch was located, and Garden City were hardly major metropolises. He was pretty sure he’d met—if not dated—most of the single women in both cities at one time or another.

The truth was he’d made it a point to be thorough. At least half of the women here tonight were listed in his little black book, a virtual Who’s Who of his bachelorhood. It seemed as if his buddies had invited every available female from a hundred-mile radius just to torment him.

As for his little black book, it was dog-eared and invaluable. He touched his pocket just to be sure it was safely tucked there. There were phone numbers in those pages for hot, sultry women who could make a man’s vision blur with a kiss. There were numbers for all-American women who liked hiking and sports, for some who could cook a mouthwatering gourmet meal, and for some who could simply make him laugh. He’d slept with fewer of them than most people thought, but probably more than was wise.

Some he’d only been out with once or twice. A handful had lasted longer, until he’d started to notice the way their gazes lingered on the diamonds every time they strolled past a jewelry store. He’d crossed out any who were inclined toward jealous rages.

Yes, indeed, that little book was worth its weight in gold. The men in the bunkhouse at White Pines had offered him all sorts of incentives just to get a peek, but he kept it private. His social life was nobody’s business but his own, even though an awful lot of people thought otherwise.

Of course, seeing so many of the entries gathered in one place tonight was a little disconcerting. He’d been walking a tightrope for the past couple of hours, exchanging friendly hellos and not much in the way of encouragement, trying to dodge some of the more persistent, clever females who weren’t inclined to take no for an answer.

Ever since his arrival he’d been asked to dance to every song. Drinks had been sent over. A blonde named Suzy with long and very shapely legs displayed to mid-thigh had brought over an entire bottle of champagne. If he’d been in the market for a date, all of the attention would have been very flattering. As it was, it was making him jittery. His willpower was only so strong, and some of these women were doing their best to destroy it. Alcohol, cleavage, caresses—it was enough to test a saint.

But over the years Hardy had discovered that there were two days of the year on which a dedicated bachelor had to be on his guard: New Year’s Eve and Valentine’s Day. For 363 days a man could pretty much date whomever he pleased without worrying too much about the consequences. Pay a woman a little too much attention on either of those occasions, however, and a man could all but kiss his freedom goodbye. New Year’s and Valentine’s Day were meant for lovers and commitment, at least that’s how the women he knew saw them.

At 29, Hardy still valued his freedom. Even surrounded by some of the most enthusiastic proponents of marriage in the universe at White Pines, he remained a staunchly determined holdout. He had his reasons. Good reasons. Reasons rooted deeply in the past, a past he never talked about and tried not to remember. He lived in the moment, not the past, and never the future.

He fended off another admirer, took a long swallow of the sole beer he’d been nursing, and tried to relax and get into the spirit of the party. It was hard to do when the only other bachelor not on the dance floor was the grizzled cook, who only had half a dozen of his own teeth left and forgot his plate with the fake ones more often than not. Sweeney was a whiz with a skillet, on the trail or off, but he wasn’t much of a talker. He didn’t seem to care much about women one way or the other.

“Hey, Hardy, what’s your New Year’s resolution?” Slade Sutton shouted across the bar, his arm wrapped tightly around the waist of the petite woman with him. “Aren’t you creeping up on thirty? Is this the year you’re finally going to let some lady catch you?”

Hardy scowled at the teasing. “Not a chance, Sutton. Just because you’ve got the prettiest woman in Texas by your side these days doesn’t mean the rest of us intend to fall into that trap.”

The very recently wed Val Sutton regarded Hardy with feigned indignation. “And just what is wrong with marriage?”

Hardy pretended to think really hard. “Let me see if I can count that high.”

“One of these days,” Slade taunted, “you are going to fall so hard you’ll knock yourself out.”

“Never happen,” Hardy insisted.

“If you had a woman, you wouldn’t be sitting all alone at the bar looking pathetic on New Year’s Eve,” Slade persisted. For a man who’d taken his own sweet time acknowledging how he felt about his new wife, Slade seemed awfully eager to see Hardy follow in his footsteps. He had all the fervor of a recent convert.

“I guess you’ve missed all the women who’ve been over here tonight. Val must have put blinders on you,” Hardy retorted.

“Watch it,” Val warned. “I may be little, but I pack a mean punch.”

Hardy grinned at her. She was a spirited little thing. All woman, too. He fondly recalled all the times she’d sashayed around the ranch on outrageously spiked heels just to catch Slade’s attention. The other hands had appreciated it, even if Slade hadn’t.

“Oh, if only I’d seen you first,” he said with an exaggerated sigh that was only partly in jest. Val was a keeper, all right. Even he could admit that. If he’d been a marrying man—and if it hadn’t been so plain that Val fit with Slade and his daughter, Annie—Hardy might have made a pass at her when she’d first turned up at White Pines.