The Valentine Two-Step [NOOK Book]

The Valentine Two-Step

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781459254961
  • Publisher: Harlequin
  • Publication date: 7/15/2013
  • Series: Outlaw Hartes
  • Sold by: Barnes & Noble
  • Format: eBook
  • Edition description: Original
  • Pages: 320
  • Sales rank: 113,844
  • File size: 2 MB

Meet the Author


New York Times bestselling author RaeAnne Thayne finds inspiration in the beautiful northern Utah mountains where she lives with her family. Her books have won numerous honors, including four RITA Award nominations from Romance Writers of America and a Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews magazine. RaeAnne loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her website at raeannethayne.com.

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Read an Excerpt

"They did what?"

Ellie Webster and the big, gruff rancher seated beside her spoke in unison. She spared a glance at Matt Harte and saw he looked like he'd just been smacked upside the head with a two-by-four.

"Oh, dear. I was afraid of this." Sarah McKenzie gave a tiny, apologetic smile to both of them.

With her long blond hair and soft, wary brown eyes, her daughter's teacher always made Ellie think of a skittish palomino colt, ready to lunge away at the first provocation. Now, though, she was effectively hobbled into place behind her big wooden schoolteacher's desk. "You're telling me you both didn't agree to serve on the committee for the Valentine's Day carnival?"

"Hell no." Matt Harte looked completely horrified by the very idea of volunteering for a Valentine's Day carnival committee—as astonished as Ellie imagined he'd be if Ms. McKenzie had just asked him to stick one of her perfectly sharpened number-two pencils in his eye.

"I've never even heard of the Valentine's Day carnival until just now," Ellie offered.

"Well, this does present a problem." Ms. Mc-Kenzie folded her hands together on top of what looked like a grade book, slim and black and ominous.

Ellie had always hated those grade books.

Despite the fact that she couldn't imagine any two people being more different, Ellie had a brief, unpleasant image of her own fourth-grade teacher. Prissy mouth, hair scraped back into a tight bun. Complete intolerance for a scared little girl who hid her bewildered loneliness behind defiant anger.

She pushed the unwelcome image aside.

"The girls told me you both would cochair the committee," the teacher said. "They were most insistent that you wanted to do it."

"You've got to be joking. They said we wanted to do it? I don't know where the he—heck Lucy could have come up with such a harebrained idea." Matt Harte sent one brief, disparaging glare in El-lie's direction, and she stiffened. She could just imagine what he was thinking. If my perfect little Lucy has a harebrained idea in her perfect little head, it must have come from you and your flighty daughter, with your wacky California ways.

He had made it perfectly clear he couldn't understand the instant bond their two daughters had formed when she and Dylan moved here at the beginning of the school year three months earlier. He had also made no secret of the fact that he didn't trust her or her veterinary methods anywhere near his stock.

The really depressing thing was, Harte's attitude seemed to be the rule, not the exception, among the local ranching community. After three months, she was no closer to breaking into their tight circle than she'd been that very first day.

"It does seem odd," Ms. McKenzie said, and Ellie chided herself for letting her mind wander.

Right now she needed to concentrate on Dylan and this latest scrape her daughter had found herself in. Not on the past or on the big, ugly pile of bills that needed to be paid, regardless of whether or not she had any patients.

"I thought it was rather out of character for both of you," the quiet, pretty teacher went on. "That's why I called you both and asked you to come in this evening, so we all could try to get to the bottom of this."

"Why would they lie about it?" Ellie asked. "I don't understand why on earth the girls would say we volunteered for something I've never even heard of before now."

The teacher shifted toward her and shrugged her shoulders inside her lacy white blouse. She made the motion look so delicate and airy that Ellie felt about as feminine as a teamster in her work jeans and flannel shirt.

"I have no idea," she said. "I was hoping you could shed some light on it."

"You sure it was our girls who signed up?"

Ms. McKenzie turned to the rancher with a small smile. "Absolutely positive. I don't think I could possibly mix that pair up with any of my other students."

"Well, there's obviously been a mistake," Matt said gruffly.

Ms. McKenzie was silent for a few moments, then she sighed. "That's what I was afraid you would say. Still, the fact remains that I need two parents to cochair the committee, and your daughters obviously want you to do it. Would the two of you at least consider it?"

The rancher snorted. "You've got the wrong guy."

"I don't think so," the teacher answered gently, as if chiding a wayward student, and Ellie wondered how she could appear to be so completely immune to the potent impact of Matt Harte.

Even with that aggravated frown over this latest scheme their daughters had cooked up, he radiated raw male appeal, with rugged, hard-hewn features, piercing blue eyes and broad shoulders. Ellie couldn't even sit next to him without feeling the power in those leashed muscles.

But Sarah McKenzie appeared oblivious to it. She treated him with the same patience and kindness she showed the fourth graders in her class.

"I think you'd both do a wonderful job," the teacher continued. "Since this is my first year at the school, I haven't been to the carnival myself but I understand attendance has substantially dropped off the last two years. I'm sure I don't have to tell you what a problem this is."

"No," the rancher said solemnly, and Ellie fought the urge to raise her hand and ask somebody to explain the gravity of the situation to her. It certainly didn't seem like a big deal to her that some of the good people of Salt River decided to celebrate Valentine's Day somewhere other than the elementary school gymnasium. Come to think of it, so far most of the people she'd met in Salt River didn't seem the types to celebrate Valentine's Day at all.

"This is a really important fund-raiser," Ms. McKenzie said. "All the money goes to the school library, which is desperately in need of new books. We need to do something to generate more interest in the carnival, infuse it with fresh ideas. New blood, if you will. I think the two of you are just the ones to do that."

There was silence for a moment, then the rancher sat forward, that frown still marring his handsome features. "I'm sorry, Miz McKenzie. I'd like to help you out, honest. I'm all in favor of getting more books for the library and I'd be happy to give you a sizable donation if that will help at all. But I'm way out of my league here. I wouldn't know the first thing about putting together something like that."

"I'm afraid this sort of thing isn't exactly my strong point, either," Ellie admitted, which was a bit like saying the nearby Teton Mountain Range had a couple of pretty little hills.

"Whatever their reasons, it seemed very important to your daughters that you help." She shifted toward Matt again. "Mr. Harte, has Lucy ever asked you to volunteer for anything in school before? Reading time, lunch duty, anything?"

The rancher's frown deepened. "No," he finally answered the teacher. "Not that I can think of."

"All of her previous teachers describe Lucy as a shy mouse of a girl who spoke in whispers and broke into tears if they called on her. I have to tell you, that is not the same girl I've come to know this year."

"No?"

"Since Dylan's arrival, Lucy participates much more in class. She is a sweet little girl with a wonderfully creative mind."

"That's good, right?"

"Very good. But despite the improvements, Lucy still seems to prefer staying in the background. She rarely ventures an opinion of her own. I think it would be wonderful for her to help plan the carnival under your supervision. It might even provide her with some of the confidence she still seems to be lacking."

"I'm a very busy man, Miz McKenzie—"

"I understand that. And I know Dr. Webster is also very busy trying to establish her practice here in Star Valley."

You don't know the half of it, Ellie thought grimly.

"But I think it would help both girls. Dylan, as well," the teacher said, shifting toward her. "I've spoken with you before with some of my concerns about your daughter. She's a very bright girl and a natural leader among the other children, but she hasn't shown much enthusiasm for anything in the classroom until now."

The teacher paused, her hands still folded serenely on her desk, and gave them both a steady look that had Ellie squirming just like she'd been caught chewing gum in class. "It's obvious neither of you wants to do this. I certainly understand your sentiments. But I have to tell you, I would recommend you would put your own misgivings aside and think instead about your daughters and what they want."

Oh, she was good. Pour on the parental guilt, sister. Gets 'em every time.

Out of the corner of her gaze Ellie could see Harte fighting through the same internal struggle.

How could she possibly do this? The last thing on earth she wanted was to be saddled with the responsibility for planning a Valentine's Day carnival. Valentine's Day, for heaven's sake. A time for sweethearts and romance, hearts and flowers. Things she had absolutely no experience with.

Beyond that, right now she was so busy trying to salvage her floundering practice that she had no time for anything but falling into her bed at the end of the day.

Still, Dylan wanted her to do this. For whatever reasons, this was important to her daughter. Ellie had already uprooted her from the only life she'd known to bring her here, to an alien world of wide-open spaces and steep, imposing mountains.

If being involved in this stupid carnival would make Dylan happy, didn't she owe it to her to try?

And maybe, just maybe, a selfish little voice whispered, this might just be the ticket to help you pile drive your way into the closed circle that is the Star Valley community.

If she could show the other parents she was willing to volunteer to help out the school, they might begin to accept her into their ranks. Lord knows, she had to do something or she would end up being the proud owner of the only veterinary practice in Wyoming without a single patient to its name.

"I suppose I'm game," she said, before she could talk herself out of it. "What about you, Harte?"

"It's a Valentine's Day carnival. What the hell do I know about Valentine's Day?"

She snickered at his baffled tone. She couldn't help herself. The man just rubbed her wrong. He had gone out of his way to antagonize her since she arrived in town. Not only had he taken his own business elsewhere, but she knew he'd convinced several other ranchers to do the same. It hurt her pride both professionally and personally that he made no secret of his disdain for some of her more unconventional methods.

"You mean nobody's sent you one of those cute little pink cards lately? With that sweet disposition of yours, I'd have thought you would have women crawling out of the woodwork to send you valentines."

She regretted the snippy comment as soon as she said it. Whatever her views about him, she should at least try to be civil.

Still, she felt herself bristle when he glowered at her, which seemed to be his favorite expression. It was a shame, really. The man could be drop-dead gorgeous when he wasn't looking like he just planted his butt on a cactus. How such a sweet little girl like Lucy could have such a sour apple of a father was beyond her.

Before he could answer in kind, the schoolteacher stepped in to keep the peace with the same quiet diplomacy she probably used to break up schoolyard brawls. "There's no reason you have to make a decision today. It's only mid-November, so we still have plenty of time before Valentine's Day. Why don't both of you take a few days to think it over, and I'll talk to you about it next week."

Ms. McKenzie rose from behind her desk. "Thank you both for coming in at such short notice," she said, in clear dismissal. "I'll be in touch with you next week."

Left with no alternative, Ellie rose, as well, and shrugged into her coat. Beside her, Lucy's father did the same.

"Sorry about the mix-up," he said, reaching out to shake hands with Ms. McKenzie. Ellie observed with curiosity that for the first time the other woman looked uncomfortable, even nervous. Again she thought of that skittish colt ready to bolt. There was an awkward pause while he stood there with his hand out, then with a quick, jerky movement, the teacher gripped his hand before abruptly dropping it.

"I'll be in touch," she said again.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 30, 2012

    The Twoleg of the Clans- Chapter 1

    I groaned as morning sunlight drifted into my tired eyes. "Five more minutes," I moaned, sheilding my sight from the yellow-orange illumination.
    "Katie, wake up! Breakfast's ready! If you don't get up Momma will be angry."
    Slowly, I heaved myself up to look at my little sister, Tara. Her gap-toothed smile made her face look two years younger than her actual age, which was six.
    "Okay, I'm coming!" I exclaimed, ruffling her brown, curly hair. With an inward groan, I walked into the bathroom to wash my face.
    I stared at my reflection, straight into my face. "The looks a supermodel would die for," my mother would say as she braided my hair. I wasn't so sure about that. Brown skin, mahogany, unruly hair, gray-brown eyes. Thin eyebrows and thick eyelashes finished my look. Every adult I met said I looked like my father.
    //Father.// I frowned at the word as I washed my face and proceeded to brushing my hair. I didn't remember anything about my father. He had left to go to the forest for an expedition when I was just two, and never came back again. My mother assumed he had been mauled by a bear, or crushed by a falling tree. Ten years later, the only memory of him were my own natural looks.
    I walked out of the bathroom and downstairs, into the small living room. The smell of sizzling bacon and sultry eggs hit my nose, giving me energy to quicken my pace.
    "Hello, dear," my mother greeted, taking a sip from her bitter, homemade coffee.
    "Hi," I grunted, sitting down at the table and digging into my scrambled eggs and bacon. As the food entered my mouth, I sighed, savoring the salty, crunchy taste.
    "Did you have any dreams?"
    I paused for a moment before stuttering, "N-no." I didn't want to tell her about my dream- no, nightmare: I was walking down a dark, leafy forest, when suddenly, a cat exploded out of a bush, scratching at my face and neck. The strange thing was, I could actually /feel/ the pain, feel the cat stratch and bite at me before I finally woke up.
    My mother seemed to read my thoughts, because she said, "You know you can tell me anything, dear; everyone has bad dreams."
    "But I /didn't/ have any bad dreams last night," I lied.
    "Mommy! I had a dream last night! I was riding a pretty unicorn in a land made out of candy!"
    "You have that dream every night!" I snapped.
    My mother ignored my yelling, because she said, "That's wonderful, dear. Now, give me your plate. You're finished, right?"
    "Y-yes, Mommy," she whispered, seeming a bit downcast. I cursed myself for yelling at her for no reason at all.
    "I'm done, too," handing her my clean plate.
    My mother took both of our plates, and walked to the sink. As I watched her wash the dishes, I asked a question that had been nagging me for a while.
    "Mom, why did my father /really/ go into the forest?"
    A sound of a breaking plate sounded through the house, and she slowly turned toward me, her eyes as large as a deer's caught in headlights.
    "I-I told you dear, he was just looking for a bit of excitement," she stuttered. Oblivious to the broken plate, she turned around and started to wash the dishes again.
    "Oh, um, okay." I said, turning back to the table.
    "You made Mommy break that plate!" Tara whispered to me, her eyes wide.
    I ignored her, another thought at my mind. I /knew/ he hadn't gone into the forest for just a "little bit of fun," I just /knew/ it. He had gone for another reason, and I was determined to find out what that reason was.

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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