The Cowboy's Last Goodbye (Grass Valley Cowboys Book 6)

  Grass Valley Cowboys, Book 6

  A Sweet Contemporary Western Romance

  by

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author

  SHANNA HATFIELD

  The Cowboy’s Last Goodbye

  Copyright © 2016 by Shanna Hatfield

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  For permission requests, please contact the author, with a subject line of "permission request” at the email address below or through her website.

  Shanna Hatfield

  shanna@shannahatfield.com

  shannahatfield.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  A master of goodbyes,

  he never expected to fall in love...

  Ben Morgan has no problem safeguarding his heart until he meets a sweet woman determined to ignore his considerable charms.

  Harper Hayes knows the very last thing she needs is the entanglement of a relationship, especially with a handsome cowboy like Ben Morgan.

  However, their hearts, her uncle, and a military dog have other ideas…

  ~*~

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  Shanna’s Newsletter

  To those who learn from their mistakes…

  Heartfelt thanks to

  Rob Rich and Shaver Transportation

  for the incredibly helpful information

  about the Columbia River system

  and inland grain barging

  that helped bring Ben’s work to life.

  Special acknowledgements to

  Anna B., L. Lam, Judy T., and all of the

  Hopeless Romantics

  for your ideas that helped shape Ben’s story!

  Chapter One

  In every goodbye, we discover a new hello.

  The end of days had arrived.

  Without warning, without a hint of impending doom, the day of reckoning swooped in, wreaking a path of havoc.

  Ben Morgan teetered on the edge of his own personal apocalypse while those around him appeared impervious to the imminent danger.

  The harbingers of destruction looked nothing like he’d imagined. No evil, ancient, otherworldly apparitions lingered, waiting to drag him to Purgatory.

  It was far worse.

  Cherub-cheeked toddlers with aquamarine eyes and impish grins rimmed in chocolate ice cream wiped their sticky fingers on his jeans, using their cuteness to batter against his defenses.

  One moment, he’d been discussing plans for the wheat harvest with his brother, Brice. The next, he held a loaded diaper in his hand that smelled worse than the corpse of a dead skunk left to bake in the summer sun.

  “Not cool, bro. Not cool at all.” Ben fought down the urge to gag and turned his head away from the stench as Brice laughed at him.

  “Come on, Ben. It’s just Maizy’s diaper. Don’t be such a wuss.” Brice picked up his six-month-old daughter and blew on her tummy. She chortled and waved her chubby fingers in the air.

  “I’m not a wuss, but this should be registered as toxic waste and handled by certified personnel in hazmat suits.” Ben grimaced as another whiff assaulted his nose. He tried to take a step toward the door, but the twins hanging onto his legs hampered his efforts.

  “Give us a ride, Unca Ben!” Shane Thompson begged. “Pwease?”

  “Pwease, Unca Ben?” Shiloh Thompson joined in his brother’s pleading.

  “How can you say no to that?” Brice asked with a smirk. He tugged down Maizy’s frilly cotton dress trimmed in lace made by her mother and kissed her rosy cheek.

  Ben rolled his eyes and shuffled toward the bedroom door with anchors on both feet. “I don’t suppose I can. Did their parents send them in here to torture me on purpose? Or is that a side benefit of the super powers you all automatically acquired when you began shooting out offspring?”

  Affronted, Brice shook his head. “We aren’t exactly ‘shooting out offspring,’ as you so rudely put it. What’s the matter with you, today?”

  “What’s the matter with me?” A scowl deepened vertical lines on Ben’s forehead as he glowered at his blissfully wed brother. “I haven’t had a moment of peace since you all walked in the door this morning. Cass made me give her so many piggyback rides, I think she might have ruptured something like my spleen. Emily cried until I played tea party with her. And these two…” Ben pointed to the boys clinging to his calves, “are about to give me charley horses the size of Clydesdales.”

  He held the malodorous diaper out to his brother. “To add insult to injury, you dumped this foul thing into my keeping.”

  “Listen to him whine,” Brice goaded as they walked into their mother’s kitchen. The family gathered around the table looked at them, amused by their arguing.

  “Man, take that thing outside before you make someone hurl,” Travis Thompson said as the smell from the diaper permeated the room. Quickly snatching a magazine off the table, he fanned it in front of his wife’s face.

  Five months pregnant, smells of any sort left Tess nauseous and often running for the nearest bathroom.

  “Oh, Ben, that’s awful,” Tess said, rising to her feet and hurrying down the hallway.

  “The road to perdition is paved with baby powder and lollipops,” Ben muttered. Gently, he tried to shake the two dead weights off his legs so he could take the diaper outside to the garbage can.

  Trey Thompson grabbed his two boys and held one under each arm. “What’d you say?”

  “Nothing.” Ben hustled outside before anyone else detained him. He dumped the diaper in the garbage can and slammed the lid then wandered out to the barn to clean his hands.

  The cool recesses of the barn welcomed him as he stepped out of the June heat. Other than the sounds of the old building creaking, quiet washed over him.

  For reasons he didn’t understand, his mother got the bright idea to invite everyone over for lunch today. Most people might think it strange the Thompson and Morgan families spent so much time together, but Ben’s parents and Denni Thompson Hammond had been friends for decades. Their children grew up together, more like siblings, and now they were one big family.

  Since the last time he’d seen the entire group together, Ben had forgotten how obnoxious and noisy they all could be.

  It seemed like just yesterday instead of five years ago that Trey and Trent Thompson were enjoying the life of bachelorhood. Then Trey had to go and hire Cady Greer as his housekeeper and cook. Within a few months, they’d married and adopted Cass, a feisty five-year-old who needed their love every bit as much as the shelter of a stable home.

  Not long after that, Trent fell hard for Lindsay Pierce, one of the local schoolteachers. They wed that summer.

  With love floating thick in the air, his only sister, Tess, had married the youngest Thompson brother, Travis, a few months later.

  As though a horrific epidemic swept through the ranks, Brice fell prey to the charms of the Thompson boys’ cousin Bailey and married her the following spring.

  The Thompson brothers even infected their own mother, who’d been a wid
ow for several years. After vowing she’d never fall in love again, Denni exchanged vows with Hart Hammond, a millionaire who made his fortune with the Renegade gas station and convenience store chain.

  All the weddings and happy newlyweds were enough to make Ben ill, but then the babies started to arrive.

  Trent and Lindsay’s daughter Emily was only a few weeks old when Denni and Hart wed. That same year, Trey and Cady got an early Christmas present with the birth of Shane and Shiloh. Ben thought Trey might burst from pride as he held the twin boys in his arms on Christmas Eve.

  Now that Brice and Bailey had Maizy, and Tess and Travis would soon add one more baby to the mix, the loving couples and their adorable children overwhelmed Ben.

  Marriage and fatherhood weren’t for him. He had no plans to succumb to either institution. Not ever.

  After washing his hands and drying them, Ben hesitated to return to the house. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his family.

  He truly did.

  There wasn’t a single person in the house he wouldn’t lay down his life for, but he’d had about all the lovey-dovey looks and sweet baby coos he could handle for a while.

  The thought of the rough and rowdy Thompson and Morgan men acting like a bunch of starry-eyed fools over their women and children made the barest hint of a smile break across Ben’s face.

  In a million years, he never would have imagined them being such a bunch of softhearted romantics.

  At least he didn’t have to worry about joining the ranks of bested males.

  He lived by the rule of never getting close enough to a female to allow her to penetrate the fortress around his heart. To date, that decree had served him well.

  Slowly meandering over to the corral by the barn, Ben whistled. His horse, Brutus, lifted his head before trotting over. Although he’d never admit it, he loved being on the family ranch outside of Grass Valley, Oregon. No matter where his life’s journey took him, it would always be home.

  “Why don’t you take him for a ride?” Brice asked as he walked up beside him, slapping Ben on the back.

  Ben shook his head. “Nah. Not today. I need to head back to Portland soon.” He scratched the horse along his neck and rubbed a gentle hand over his muzzle. “Besides, Brutus and I went for a couple of good rides this week.”

  “It’s nice you came to help dad all week.” Brice leaned his arms against the fence rail and studied Ben. The two brothers could have passed for twins, except that Brice loved to be the life of the party and Ben preferred a more subtle approach.

  “I enjoy being back on the ranch, occasionally.” Ben grinned at his younger brother then returned his attention to the horse.

  Brice eyed him. “You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself today. What’s up with that?”

  Ben shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “Look, if it’s about giving you Maizy’s diaper, I’m sorry. I forget you aren’t used to being around the kids like the rest of us. That particular experience might fall under cruel and unusual punishment.” Brice plucked a handful of grass and held it out for Brutus. The horse eagerly snatched it from him.

  “You think?” Ben playfully jabbed Brice in the side. “The next time you do something like that, you won’t enjoy the consequences.”

  “Fine. I’ve been warned.” Brice held up his hands in defeat. “What’s really bugging you, Ben? You just don’t seem like yourself. I thought maybe you’d invite Laurie to join us today.”

  Brice’s mention of Ben’s former girlfriend made his jaw clench. “We broke up three weeks ago.”

  “Aw, man, I’m sorry. What happened this time?”

  “Same thing that always happens. She pushed for a commitment I wasn’t willing to give and that’s that.”

  Brice gave him a look that held a mixture of disappointment and commiseration.

  Ben went through girlfriends like chocoholics went through a box of exceptionally good candy — choosing the choicest morsels, savoring each one while it lasted, then moving on to the next confection.

  As soon as a girl started to get ideas about making their relationship long-term, Ben offered a hasty goodbye and never looked back.

  “Don’t you think it’s time to stop playing around and look for a girl with some staying power?” Brice didn’t even flinch when Ben shot him a withering glare.

  “How many times do I have to tell you and Tess and everyone else that I have absolutely no interest in settling down? None at all. Zilch. Leave it be, little brother.” Ben turned and started walking toward the house.

  Brice kept step with him, even though he walked with the slightest limp from an injury caused by an unfortunate encounter with a chainsaw. “Ben! Hey, don’t go off in a snit.” He grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him to a stop.

  Ben shook off his hand although he didn’t resume his march back to the house. “I’m not in a snit. I’m just tired of everyone trying to foist their plans on me instead of respecting what I want.”

  Brice widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. If Ben hadn’t been aggravated with him, he would have laughed at how much it reminded him of their dad.

  “What do you want?” Brice asked. Although he feigned a perturbed look, his voice held sincerity.

  Despite how irritating his family was with their meddling and nosy interest in his personal affairs, Ben knew they cared.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted with stark honesty. “I really don’t know, Brice. But I do know what I don’t want and that’s to be tied down with a wife and family.”

  “That’s because you haven’t found the right girl. While I’m on the subject, you’ll never find her looking in your usual places.”

  “Why do you think I don’t change my tactics?” Ben grinned and gave Brice a shove.

  His brother pushed him back and they resumed walking to the house. “You are going to fall, hard, someday. I want a front row seat when it happens.”

  Ben chuckled. “Good luck with that. You live in the boondocks almost two hours from here. With Bailey back at work, you spend most of your time taking care of Maizy when you aren’t working your magic with wood.”

  “I’ve got my eye on you, man, so watch out.” Brice pointed from his eyes to Ben’s, making them both laugh.

  When they stepped inside the kitchen, Emily launched herself at Ben, wrapping both little arms around his legs. “Uncle Ben?” She looked up at him with big blue eyes that would someday break untold numbers of boyish hearts.

  “What is it, Pinkie?” The child refused to wear anything that wasn’t pink, so the nickname he’d bestowed on her had stuck.

  Emily held out her arms to him and Ben picked her up, kissing her cheek. She squeezed his neck, flooding his senses with the smell of sunshine and sweet little girl. Before he let it get to him, he forced himself to shore up his weakening defenses. “What do you need?”

  “Can I go for a bike ride with you?” Emily leaned against his chest with a charming little pout on her lips.

  “Not today, honey. Maybe next time I come to visit.” Ben ruffled the brown curls on her head then set her on her feet. “In fact, I need to get on the road.”

  “Do you have to leave, Ben?” Tess gave him a hug.

  The baby chose that moment to kick and Ben felt the hint of movement. Awed, he hid it behind a teasing smile. “Be careful that monster in there doesn’t overtake you before I come back.”

  “You’ll be back in a few weeks to help with the wheat harvest, right?” Brice asked as Ben lifted a bag from a bench by the door and moved outside. Most everyone followed. Cass chased her little brothers around a tree. They squealed with laughter while Emily trailed after them.

  Maizy bounced in her mother’s arms, flapping her hands and giggling at the antics of her cousins.

  Ben eyed the antics of the youngsters as he pulled on a leather jacket. “I’ll be here.”

  In his career as a captain of a tug that pushed barges full of cargo up and down the Columbia River, Ben generall
y worked seven days then had seven days off. He’d traded schedules with another captain so he’d work fifteen days then have the following fifteen off. That way, he could be at home to help his dad.

  Due to an early spring and warm temperatures in May, the wheat would be ready in July rather than August, when the harvest typically took place.

  He’d noticed many fields ripening early and wondered if the grain elevators where he picked up tons of wheat for transport were ready for the influx sure to happen over the course of the next two months.

  “Take care, sweetie, and make sure you text me when you get home.” Michele Morgan squeezed her son’s cheeks, as if he was six instead of thirty-two.

  “I will, Mom. You all stay out of trouble. There better not be any new additions to this bunch of yahoos by the time I return. At the rate you all are multiplying, you might as well be rabbits.”

  “I want a bunny rabbit!” Emily grabbed onto her father’s leg and yanked on his jeans. “Can I have a bunny, Daddy?”

  Trent narrowed his gaze at Ben as he picked up his daughter and quietly explained that they didn’t need any more pets at their house. As the closest thing Grass Valley had to a veterinarian, Trent often took in wounded animals and nursed them back to health. Old MacDonald’s farm had nothing on Trent and Lindsay’s place. Horses, sheep, goats, chickens, a llama, pigs, cats, dogs, and even a fox found refuge there.

  Barely hiding a snort of amusement, Ben fastened his bag on the back of his motorcycle, slipped on his helmet, and tugged on his gloves then waved goodbye to the group.

  A sense of relief settled over him as he rode down the driveway, gratified to escape with his sanity intact.

  Relaxed as he drove along the highway he’d traveled thousands of times, he took a detour along a dusty road to the freeway. In no hurry to return to his quiet, empty apartment in Portland, he planned to enjoy his afternoon.