Arizona Cowboy
Authors: Jennifer Collins Johnson
Cowboy Holden Whitaker Believes in Second Chances
Holden has never stopped loving Ava Herbert, even though she disappeared just as he was ready to say “I do.” Now Ava is back as the town’s new physical therapist, and this time Holden will do anything to get her to stay.
As Holden seeks to renew their romance, Ava’s guilt grows. She’s never stopped thinking about her first love, but she has a secret that could destroy his feelings for her. When an injury lands the handsome rancher in her office, Ava can’t seem to resist his charms. If she can find the courage to share the truth, they may just have another go-round at happily-ever-after.
His nearness still affected her. He knew
it did.
It had to, because at any moment Holden would lose control of his ability to restrain from playing caveman by picking her up and carrying her out to his truck. The idea proved too enticing, and Holden forced himself to step away from her.
“We have to talk.”
“Yes, we do.”
“I’m going to come get you and take you to dinner. Tonight.”
Holden expected her to argue, to make up an excuse to stay away from him, but he was determined. He would talk to her even if he had to spend the night sitting outside her aunt’s house until Ava opened the door.
To his surprise, she nodded. “All right.”
She tried to step away, but Holden took her wrist. She gazed up at him. Mesmerized by her eyes, yearning to touch her soft cheek, he swallowed. “Seven o’clock. All right?”
She lifted her hand to his face. Warmth surged through him at the feel of her touch. She whispered, “Please forgive me.”
“I already have.”
Sadness clouded her eyes and her expression fell. She turned away from him. “We’ll see.”
Books by Jennifer Collins Johnson
Love Inspired Heartsong Presents
A Heart Healed
A Family Reunited
A Love Discovered
Arizona Cowboy
JENNIFER COLLINS JOHNSON
and her unbelievably supportive husband, Albert, are happily married and raising three daughters: Brooke, Hayley and Allie. Besides being a middle-school teacher, Jennifer loves to read, write and chauffeur her girls. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers. Blessed beyond measure, Jennifer hopes to always think like a child—bigger than imaginable and with complete faith.
Jennifer Collins Johnson
Arizona Cowboy
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
—Psalms
34:18
Writers must find a balance between heartbreak and victory. We must be honest with the true deep-to-the-core pain our characters feel when they face tragedy, and yet, as a Christian writer, I want to always show that no matter the hardship, God can heal us and make us victors if we allow. Ava and Holden’s challenges ripped at my heart, and I dedicate this book to anyone who has ever endured their loss. May each of you find peace and comfort in Him.
Chapter 1
A
va Herbert twisted the gray and black crepe paper together, then taped the streamers to the corner of her aunt’s smooth yellow ceiling. She smiled at the color contrast. Most people mourned birthdays, especially ones that ushered in a new decade. Not Aunt Irene. She embraced each day with laughter and sunshine.
“You know what Picasso said about birthdays,” Aunt Irene had announced earlier that afternoon, while Ava’s cousin, Mitch, tried to prod his mother out the door so Ava could decorate in secret.
Ava and her cousins had planned a surprise party for her aunt’s sixtieth birthday, but keeping a secret from the ever-nosy woman had been more of a challenge than any of them anticipated.
“What did Picasso say?” Ava had responded.
Aunt Irene winked. “He said it takes a long time to become young.”
“I don’t know that I agree,” Mitch had muttered as he’d stood at the front door, the warm March sun shining through the glass. The temperature was actually mild for Surprise, Arizona—only seventy-two degrees. “I can feel gray hairs growing as I wait on my mother to exit the house.”
“Oh hush.” Aunt Irene had swatted his arm as they’d finally walked out the door.
Aunt Irene’s sons were as much of a contrast to their mother as the dark streamers were to the sunny ceiling paint. Both of them were grumpy and literal-thinking men.
Now Ava and Mitch’s brother, Matt, were finally able to decorate in peace. She stepped off the dining room chair and knelt on the table, below the ceiling fan Aunt Irene had painted bright orange, with yellow Indian mallow flowers on the blades. “Hand me those balloons, will ya, Matt?”
“Sure.”
Ava took them from him and taped them to the center of the fan, then jumped off the table to survey her work. Crepe paper hung in four lines from the walls around the table. The streamers joined in the center, with black and gray balloons hanging from the fan. Matt had taped a Happy Birthday banner on one wall. Smiling skeletons peeked from behind tombstones on both sides.
Ava clapped. “What do ya think?”
Matt shrugged. “Looks fine, I guess.”
She punched his arm. “No wonder you still don’t have a girlfriend. You’re supposed to say it looks fantastic.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’ve made it through thirty-five years without a wife. I can wait a little longer. If God wants me to marry, then...”
“I know, cuz. I was just kidding.”
“God has a plan, Ava. I don’t have to run around, worrying over women....”
She rose on tiptoe and kissed her six-foot-tall cousin’s cheek. “I promise I was teasing. Will you get the fruit and veggies out of the refrigerator in the garage?”
Ava watched as Matt walked away. Her cousin was a wonderful man of faith. He worked tirelessly for home missions in Arizona, and would make a terrific husband, but the poor guy had absolutely no sense of humor.
She glanced at the enormous brass wall clock behind the dining room table. Mitch was probably about to pick up Aunt Irene’s best friend. From there, he’d talk his mom into stopping by a restaurant for a quick dinner, which meant Ava had a little over an hour before Irene got home, but only thirty minutes until guests arrived.
Racing into the spare bedroom, she felt her heart skip, as it did each time she stepped into the room. The last time Ava lived with her aunt had been the summer she’d fallen in love with a local cattle rancher, Holden Whitaker. Her aunt hadn’t changed anything in the bedroom, and now that Ava had moved back in until she could find her own place, she found herself overcome with memories each time she entered.
“He never even came in here,” she muttered as she made her way toward the mission-style dresser. The sage-colored walls still held a mixture of Native American and Mexican memorabilia from her aunt’s many travels to Mexico, Texas and Oklahoma. Ava flattened a wrinkle in the multicolored patchwork quilt.
But I spent many a night in this room dreaming of him.
She turned to the dresser, opened the bottom drawer and searched for a pair of light khaki capris. Her fingertip touched the edge of the snapshot of herself and Holden. She didn’t have to look at it; the picture was etched in her mind. When she’d moved back in with Aunt Irene, Ava had found it taped to the mirror above the dresser, exactly where she’d left it. Unable to leave it on display like that, with the love-filled couple smiling at her every day, she’d stowed the photo in the bureau drawer, since she couldn’t get rid of it, either. Lifting the picture out now, she looked at it, really looked at it, for the first time since she’d returned.
A younger Ava faced the camera with a big, cheesy grin. Her hair, long and really blond, fell down both shoulders. Her complexion was white, so white compared to Holden’s sun-kissed skin. But it wasn’t the image of her that punctured Ava’s heart. In the picture, Holden stared down at her. His oversize cowboy hat and the fact that his face was in profile made it impossible to see his smoky blue eyes. But she didn’t have to see them; even now she could feel them. Could feel his strong arm wrapped around her shoulder. Her Arizona cowboy, she’d called him. He’d loved her with a force she couldn’t comprehend at the age of eighteen. A force she still feared eight years later.
His heart had been steadfast in the Lord. His faith so strong. He’d been confident they would make it, even though they were only twenty and eighteen years old at the time. She knew he wanted to marry her, and maybe if they’d waited... Ava shook the thought away. She hadn’t been ready for the seriousness of their relationship. It scared her, and she’d panicked.
Her heart beat faster at the memory. Her palms grew clammy.
She’d quickly written him a letter, gently kissed his upturned lips as he slept, then ran. He’d tried to contact her. Through Aunt Irene. Her parents. Even Mitch and Matt. He’d begged to talk with her. Had apologized. But she ignored him. Within a few weeks, she’d moved away to college and shoved the memory of him to the farthest recesses of her mind. For several months, anyway.
She touched the brim of his hat in the picture.
I wish I hadn’t been so afraid, Lord. He would have supported me through college. He would have helped me through...
No. She shook her head. She would not allow her thoughts to take that path. Not today. It was Aunt Irene’s day, and Ava couldn’t change the past.
She placed the picture at the bottom of the drawer again. After finding her capris, she slipped into them, changed into her favorite aqua blouse and accented the outfit with a coral bracelet, necklace and earrings. She brushed through her layered highlights, then reapplied her coral lipstick.
Her smartphone beeped, announcing a new text message. She opened it. Mom and Dad wouldn’t be able to make Irene’s surprise party. Ava sent a quick “that’s fine” message back.
It was no surprise her dad couldn’t make his sister’s sixtieth birthday party. He and her mom acknowledged Ava’s own birthday with only a card, filled with cash, of course. Business. Her parents were always busy with business.
She shoved the phone into her front pocket and opened the bedroom door. Two of Irene’s neighbors had already arrived. Ava pushed all thoughts of Holden and of her mom and dad to the back of her mind.
Today is for one of the most amazing women I’ve ever known. Aunt Irene.
* * *
Holden Whitaker gripped the steering wheel of his new maroon F-150. He hadn’t planned to attend Irene’s party, hadn’t even known anything about it. But when he ran into Mitch and Irene at the restaurant, and Irene had been so happy to see him, and Mitch took Holden aside and told him about the surprise birthday party Ava was throwing... Holden twisted the rubber on the wheel and swallowed back his nerves. He just couldn’t tell Mitch no. Irene had always been so good to Holden and his sisters after their mom died. His acceptance to the surprise party had nothing to do with Ava. Nothing at all.
“Ava’s spent the last two days getting ready....”
Mitch’s words replayed in his mind.
Holden wiped perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand, then turned up the air conditioner in the truck. He’d gone on plenty of dates since Ava literally ran off on him eight years ago. Even tried to get serious with a couple of gals. His heartbeat raced, but there was something about that tiny blond-haired, blue-eyed firecracker that lit a fuse in his gut every time he thought about her.
Settle your nerves, Whitaker. You’re not some twenty-year-old, moon-eyed pup anymore.
To allow Mitch plenty of time to get his mom and her friend home, Holden stopped at the florist and picked up a bouquet of flowers for Irene’s birthday. The temptation to buy Ava a bouquet of wildflowers, maybe some purple lupines and yellow poppies, since they were her favorite, nearly overwhelmed him, but he resisted.
Memories of Ava sitting beside him in his old brown work truck washed over him. If he focused, he could still smell her perfume. Well, almost. He turned onto Irene’s street and saw Mitch pulling into the driveway. Holden tried to drive by, so as not to ruin the surprise, but Irene saw him and motioned for him to park behind them.
Feeling like a complete spoiler, Holden pulled into the driveway. Before he could open the door, Irene popped her head in the passenger’s window. She scooped the bouquet off the seat. “These for me?”
“Yeah.”
She smiled. “They’re nice. Come on. I can’t wait to see the look on Ava’s face when she yells ‘surprise’ and then spies you.”
Mitch frowned. “Mom, how did you know this was a surprise party?”
Irene motioned toward her friend. “Phoebe told me.”
Holden glanced at the small woman with short brown hair. She shook her pointer finger back and forth in front of her face. “I told Ava not to tell me. I told her I couldn’t keep a secret if my life depended on it. I made it a full day before Irene tricked me.”
“I tricked you?” Irene chuckled. “I asked you what we should do for my birthday, and you spilled the beans.”
“See?” Phoebe pointed toward Irene. “She tricked me.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t tell Ava. She’s worked really hard.” Mitch wrapped his arm around his mom’s and guided her toward the door. “Act surprised.”
Irene reached for Holden, grabbing the elbow of his long-sleeved brown shirt. “I will.” She winked at him as she shoved him toward her friend. “Mitch and I will go through the door first. I want you two right behind us.”
Phoebe grasped Holden’s elbow. “I don’t mean to tell secrets. It just happens.” She peered up at him. “And it’s not like I’m not completely honest with people. I tell them. Don’t tell me anything you don’t want shared.”
Holden ignored the woman’s musings as he imagined seeing Ava again for the first time in eight years. A sudden realization dawned on him. She could have a boyfriend, or worse yet, a fiancé, even a husband. She could have a child. Holden’s stomach knotted.
Surely not.
Irene flung open the door. Shouts of “surprise” echoed through the air. Before he could put two thoughts together, Phoebe dragged him through the entranceway. The first face he saw was Ava’s.
In a moment, he drank in the sight of her. The short pants hugged her slender curves. The light blue shirt, though modest, dipped just far enough to remind him of the softness of her nape. Her blond hair was now cut in layers that framed her face and fell just below her shoulders.
Her eyebrows lifted in surprise and Holden drank in her ocean-blue eyes. Her complexion, clear and white, suddenly blanched, as one word seeped through her perfect, coral lips. “Holden.”
Then she crumpled to the floor.
* * *
A cool softness caressed her forehead, then her cheeks, then her forehead again. Ava opened her eyes to a vision of stormy blue eyes peering at her with an intensity that squeezed her gut. Her gaze traveled down the straight nose to the perfect mixture of soft yet coarse, firm yet gentle lips. The deep dimple in the center of the chin gave the strong jawline just a touch of boyish charm. Ava placed her palm flat against the cheek. “Still beautiful.”
The storm in his eyes deepened. His lips parted. “I’d say so.”
Ava blinked. She blinked again.
I’m not dreaming.
She sat up. A wet rag fell from her face. She picked it up off her lap.
Oh, dear Lord, I’m not dreaming.
She looked past the figure of her dream and noted the dozen or more of Aunt Irene’s friends, standing there. Her gaze stopped on her aunt, whose expression shifted from fear to knowing. Ava looked back at Holden.
Embarrassment crept up her neck as she realized what had happened. She started to stand, and a flash of dizziness swept through her head. Holden reached to help her, but she shook away the offer. “I’m okay.” She dusted the back of her capris. “I’m okay. Just haven’t eaten enough today, I guess.” She chuckled, praying the guests would shift their attention away from her.
“I think my niece is fine now.” Aunt Irene clapped. “Let’s eat some of these goodies she’s prepared.”
The group started talking and moved toward the kitchen. Ava exhaled in relief, then realized Holden hadn’t moved from her side. She swallowed the knot in her throat. She couldn’t look at him.
A hand tugged her arm, and Ava turned toward her aunt. Concern etched Irene’s features. “What have you eaten today?”
Ava dipped her chin. “Couple crackers. Few bites of banana.”
“I want you to get yourself in that kitchen and fix a plate.”
“I will.”
Her aunt’s expression softened. “You sure you’re okay?”
Ava nodded. “Just surprised.” She sneaked a quick peek at Holden, who was still beside her. He stared at her with an intensity that did nothing to aid her light-headedness. She turned to her aunt. “I’ll be in the kitchen in a minute.”
Irene nodded, then looked at Holden. She reached up and pinched his cheek. “It’s good to see you, youngun’.” She glanced back at Ava and winked, then walked toward her party guests.
Ava studied the new tile on the floor, fully aware of Holden’s gaze boring into her. Her knees started to shake, so she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Her hands trembled, and she clasped them together.