The Christmas Cowboy: (Sweet Western Holiday Romance) (Rodeo Romance Book 1)

  Rodeo Romance, Book 1

  by

  SHANNA HATFIELD

  The Christmas Cowboy

  Copyright © 2013 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 are either 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.

  The Christmas Cowboy, Rodeo Romance, Book 1, is a contemporary sweet western romance featuring hunky cowboys, strong women, rodeo fun and much more - in the beautiful Pacific Northwest setting of southeastern Washington and northeastern Oregon.

  Praise for The Christmas Cowboy

  "Are you searching for a clean romance with humor, a spine-tingling romance with some hunky, genuine cowboy on the side? If you are, this book is unequivocally for you! You will find no profanity nor bedroom scenes, but you will find romance that will set your head spinning. Just because it is a clean book does not mean that it is not "smokin' hot!" There is no doubt that Shanna Hatfield knows how to write clean romance that is nothing but pure romance that incurable romantics like me crave..."

  My Devotional Thoughts Book Reviews

  “Caution: You may fall in love with a fictional cowboy named Tate! I loved this story so much! The chance meetings at the airport and the flirting back and forth! Family, rodeos, Christmas, trust issues, yeah this book covers it all! The entire book consumed my thoughts until I was finished reading it, and now that I am done, I am still thinking about it! From contemporary to historical Hatfield can write any genre she wants and I will read it! The romance level is clean but the chemistry and kisses are smoking hot! With characters that are endearing and you feel a real emotional connection with, Hatfield has a way of writing a story that anyone want would want to read! Grab your favorite blanket, find a cozy chair and a cup of hot cocoa because this Christmas story is one you won't put down until you finish the last word! I'm going to start saving my pennies because I want to buy every book that Hatfield has written!”

  Books Are Sanity

  “Finally, someone who can write a convincing cowboy. I often avoid books with cowboy and ranch themes. Growing up on a cattle ranch, I know real cowboys! This book was sweet and light. A perfect holiday read.”

  Goodreads Reviewer

  “This is a classic romance with holiday undertones. I even cried once! For sure, it's one of Shanna's best books to date, and I recommend it as a good light read.”

  Amazon Reviewer

  “There is plenty of love, ranch life, and rodeo to keep the story exciting!”

  Amazon Reviewer

  “Great holiday story with heart.”

  Amazon Reviewer

  To those who never

  give up on their dreams…

  Chapter One

  “This seat taken?”

  Startled by the deep voice speaking close to her ear, Kenzie Beckett glanced up into eyes the color of sapphires and lost the ability to speak.

  Shaking her head, she moved her oversized shoulder bag from the chair in question to a space near her feet. The intent gaze of the man made her sit up straight in the chair and fight the urge to lick her suddenly dry lips. She’d noticed the handsome cowboy at the airport many times, but never had the opportunity to be this close to him.

  He smelled every bit as good as he looked.

  “Mind if I sit down?” he asked, pointing to the empty chair beside her.

  Nervous, but with no reason to refuse, she nodded her head. Slowly inhaling a deep breath, she smiled and stuck out her hand as the cowboy folded himself into the seat. He filled the space next to her with an appealing scent that made her think of leather, spice, and rugged masculinity.

  “I’m Kenzie.”

  Pleased when he took her hand and gave it a firm, yet gentle shake, the contact created an unsettling storm of electrical currents to rush up her arm.

  “Tate.” A white-toothed grin displayed two dimples through the scruffy stubble on his face. “Tate Morgan.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Morgan.” Tongue-tied and awestruck, Kenzie couldn’t believe she sat next to Tate Morgan, rodeo star.

  Although ranching and rodeos were no longer part of her life, she kept up with some of the details. The good-looking cowboy sitting next to her was one of the top saddle bronc riders in the world. She knew he was from Washington State, but never connected him to the Tri-Cities area where she lived. She absently wondered if he was from Kennewick, Richland, or Pasco.

  He must frequent the Pasco airport as often as she did with his rodeo travels. That was probably why she’d seen him there before and why he was waiting in the seat next to her to board the flight to Denver.

  “Where are you traveling today?”

  “Tennessee,” Tate replied, grateful he arrived late at the airport. The only seat left in the waiting area was the one next to the dark-haired beauty who caught his eye the last few times he flew out of town. “Call me Tate. All my friends do and I certainly hope we’ll be friends.”

  Kenzie narrowed her gaze. She should have known he’d start flirting within seconds of sitting down. Apparently, a pair of boots, a Stetson, and perfect-fitting Wranglers gave a man free license to flirt with any female crossing his path.

  “I don’t make it a habit of becoming friends with people I randomly meet at the airport.” She tore her gaze away from Tate’s gorgeous blue eyes. Swiftly closing the fashion magazine she’d been mindlessly reading before he startled her, she stuffed it into her bag and checked her watch again.

  “Really?” Tate pushed the brim of his Stetson up with an index finger and revealed a hint of light brown hair. “I figure once names are exchanged and handshakes are given, you’re a friend until proven otherwise.”

  Heat filled her cheeks at his words. Despite his friendly tone and broad smile, she recognized a rebuke when she heard one.

  What was it about this man that threw her off her game?

  As a corporate trainer for one of the most successful direct sales companies in the country, she could get a room filled with consultants on their feet and enthusiastically following her direction with no problem. She could take on the corporate team, pitch ideas, and win them over to her way of thinking with hardly a blink.

  But put her next to a cowboy, especially one as attractive as Tate, and she lost the ability to function with any degree of logic or wisdom.

  A voice over the loudspeaker interrupted her thoughts, announcing another fifteen-minute delay for the Denver flight.

  Kenzie released a pent-up sigh, opened a zippered pocket on her bag, and pulled out her phone. She sent a text message to the organizer of the regional meeting in Denver she planned to lead later that morning, informing the woman she would probably be late.

  Normally, Kenzie liked to arrive the day before an event so she didn’t run the risk of being late. It also gave her ti
me to prepare to give her best to the consultants.

  The trainer originally lined up to lead the meeting had an emergency and asked Kenzie to cover for him, so she’d only found out she needed to be in Denver the previous evening.

  “Is everything okay?” Tate drummed his fingers on the arm of the seat. In spite of his calm facade, he had a tight connecting flight schedule and if they didn’t get moving, he was going to miss his plane.

  “It will be if we can board and be on our way soon,” Kenzie said, tugging on the navy skirt of her business suit. The airport was warm and stuffy, crowded as it was with people waiting for flights, even though it was early May and the temperature outside was pleasant. “I’m leading a meeting in Denver and unless we make up some time in the air, a few hundred consultants will be left waiting for me to get there. I don’t like to keep people waiting.”

  “That’s good to know.” He grinned again. “What is it you do?”

  Kenzie glanced over to see if he was genuinely interested or just killing time. At the inquisitive look in his eyes, she relaxed a little.

  “I’m a corporate trainer with Dew.” Kenzie took a business card from her bag and handed it to him. “We’re a skin-care company that’s been around since the 1940s.”

  Tate accepted the card from Kenzie and stared at the logo of a pale blue dewdrop with the word “Dew” embossed in gold across the center.

  “Dew?” He thought it was an odd name for a company. “Where’s the name come from?”

  Kenzie smiled and Tate felt drawn to the light shining in her beautiful brown eyes. They reminded him of the molasses his dad was so fond of eating - dark, rich, and sweet.

  “All women want a soft, dewy complexion.” She bit her tongue to keep from launching into her usual spiel about the company and their superior products.

  “If they hired you to be a walking billboard, you do a great job,” Tate said, causing Kenzie to blush again. “So your company is all about stuff women use to preserve their youthful appearance?”

  “Basically.”

  Convinced the outrageously handsome cowboy next to her would not understand the importance of moisturizers, lotions, and exfoliators to the health of aging skin, she nodded her head.

  Tate shot her a wicked grin. “So your people go door-to-door peddling goo?”

  “No, they don’t go door-to-door or peddle goo.” Kenzie couldn’t stop the smile lifting the corners of her mouth as she removed a catalog from her bag and handed it to Tate.

  He browsed through the glossy pages, noticing the company offered more than just lotions and potions. Dew sold a collection for men, spa items, and gift options in what appeared to be a well-thought-out product line.

  “How does it work? How do your… what did you call them? Consultants?” At her nod he continued. “How do they get catalogs into the hands of potential customers?” Unfamiliar with the concept of direct sales, if Tate found something he didn’t know, he quickly set out to learn all he could on the topic.

  “Home parties. People invite friends into their homes and host parties. Consultants give a brief presentation and take orders. The party host receives freebies and discounted product for her trouble and people get together for a fun hour or two while shopping in the comfort of someone’s home,” Kenzie explained, warming to the subject.

  She put herself through college doing direct sales. Her passion for the industry, Dew in particular, was why she was a well-respected corporate trainer at the age of twenty-seven.

  “If I invite a bunch of buddies to my house, set out some snacks and have one of your consultants come show us your stuff, you’d give me freebies?” Tate asked, only halfway joking. If he could somehow coerce Kenzie into being the consultant, he’d host a party every month just to be able to see her.

  “In theory, that’s how it works.” She laughed as a visual popped into her head of Tate and his friends sitting around with facials dripping off their stubbly chins. “Of course, the freebies depend on your total orders for the party.”

  Before Tate could ask more questions, the call to board rang through the airport. Under the assumption it would take a while, Kenzie began to gather up her belongings to make a final trip to the restroom.

  Tate put a hand on her arm, drawing her attention. “You can leave your stuff here. I’ll keep an eye on it,” he said, nodding his head toward the restroom door.

  “Well, I…” Kenzie said, surprised by his offer. She didn’t know the man and shouldn’t trust him, even if he did seem nice.

  “I promise not to run off with your stuff or touch anything.” Tate held his hand up as if he made a pledge. “Scout’s honor. Besides, I’d look ridiculous toting that bright pink bag. It clashes with my shirt.”

  She’d tried not to notice how well his burgundy shirt fit across his broad shoulders and chest.

  “Thank you,” she said, getting to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

  “No need to hurry.” Tate glanced at the long line of people waiting to board.

  When she returned a few minutes later, Tate stood at the back of the line, both his bag and hers over his shoulder, her suit jacket draped over his arm.

  “I thought I better get in line since it’s finally starting to move.” He handed Kenzie her jacket.

  “Thank you.” She took her bag from him and slid the strap over her shoulder. Hurriedly digging in a side pocket, she pulled out her boarding pass and checked to make sure everything was just as she left it. Tate seemed like a good guy, but trusting handsome cowboys had gotten her into trouble before.

  “What have you got in that thing? Rocks?” Tate teased as they stepped closer to the door.

  “No, bricks.” Kenzie grinned over her shoulder at him as she handed her pass to the ticket agent.

  Tate felt an unfamiliar twinge in the region of his heart as Kenzie took her boarding pass and walked out the door. Regardless of his extensive experience with the opposite sex, he’d never had anyone affect him like the beautiful brunette.

  As he gave her a quick once-over, he admired the dark hair piled on her head, her long legs, and trim figure. Her stature intrigued him. He generally preferred smaller women, but in her heels, Kenzie nearly met his six-foot one-inch height.

  A hint of something soft and floral tickled his nose while they walked onto the plane and waited to go down the aisle. He leaned closer and breathed in her scent, deciding he’d never smelled anything quite so inviting and feminine.

  Out of habit, he tugged his hat more firmly on his head and studied the harried faces on the crowded plane. He hoped the flight would go quickly. It was vital he catch the connection to Nashville where he’d meet a friend to hitch a ride to his next rodeo.

  He swallowed back a grin when he located his seat and Kenzie sat across the aisle from him. Suddenly, his day looked brighter. The connecting flight concerns shuffled to the back of his mind.

  Instead of worrying, he had a few hours of uninterrupted time to get to know his lovely traveling companion.

  After settling in to his assigned space, Tate noticed Kenzie leaning back in her seat, eyes closed, hands gripping the armrest with white knuckles.

  He reached across the aisle and placed his hand on hers, watching her eyes pop open.

  “We won’t crash, you know.” He attempted to coax her smile out of hiding.

  “I know. I just hate takeoffs. I’m fine once we get in the air.” Kenzie offered Tate a tense glance. “It’s that awful feeling when your stomach is weightless that gets me every time.”

  “That’s one of the best parts of flying.” He waggled an eyebrow her direction.

  “It’s not surprising a daredevil like you would think so.” She squeezed her eyes shut when the plane roared down the runway and lifted into the air. As it gained altitude, she let out the breath she’d held and relaxed.

  “How do you know what I do for a living?” Certain they hadn’t gotten around to discussing why he was going to Tennessee or his career, his brow wrinkled in qu
estion as he looked at her.

  “I assumed you’re a daredevil by that gleam in your eye and the look on your face that says you love adventure.” Kenzie wasn’t willing to acknowledge she recognized Tate’s name and knew exactly what he did for a living. She refused to admit to anyone, least of all the handsome cowboy beside her, she had even a passing interest in anything to do with the pro rodeo circuit. That was classified information she’d take to her grave. “You appear to be someone who lives life on the edge.”

  “I guess some people think I do. I ride saddle broncs as a profession. Well, at least I do when I’m not busy ranching.” Tate chuckled and shook his head derisively. “What I really should say is when I’m not gone to a rodeo, I stay busy on our family ranch.”

  “Is that why you’re traveling to Tennessee?” Kenzie asked, trying to think what rodeo he’d entered. It had been a long time since she’d kept close tabs on the rodeo circuit.

  “Yep. I’m meeting a friend in Nashville and then we’re off to the rodeo. We’re both competing tomorrow.” He removed his hat and placed it on his lap.

  Kenzie admired his strong hands as he ran tanned fingers through his thick hair to loosen the band pressed into it from his hat. She wouldn’t allow herself to think of that head of light brown hair. Cut short, it was just long enough to have some finger-tempting waves, absolutely meant to torment women.

  “Does your friend also ride saddle broncs?” Unsuccessfully, Kenzie tried to keep her gaze from entangling with his.

  From experience gained in what seemed like a lifetime ago, she knew saddle bronc riders were artists, of a sort, as well as spectacular athletes. While bull riding and bareback riding were wilder, saddle bronc riding demanded style, grace, and precision.

  “Nah, he’s a steer wrestler,” Tate said, grateful Cort McGraw agreed to swing by the airport and pick him up on his way through Nashville.