My Girl Read online

  The hardwood floor under the tree had disappeared, taken over by parcels in every shape and size. They toppled one over the other like a giant’s building blocks. Holiday music played from speakers built into the ceiling, and the mouth-watering aromas of bacon and sausage competed with real maple syrup and apple cider left over from their recent breakfast.

  Matthew, as the eldest, sat on the floor handing out presents, the kids at his knee, their eyes bright with excitement. It was so much more than Trish had expected that it brought tears to her eyes. Maddie accepted her new family with hardly a quibble and already followed Pippa wherever she went. Matthew, Cassandra, Sophia, Tony, and even Consuela had opened their arms and never made any mention of the sabotage committed by her family. After Kyle admitted to stealing the horses and rolled over on her father and Andy’s plan to ruin the Shaughnessy name so they would be forced to sell their land, Aaron was acquitted. She’d expected him to press charges, but they’d taken the high road instead and accepted the offer her father had been encouraged to make—silent ranch investor.

  And Aaron—he’d embraced fatherhood better than she’d dreamed, the connection between him and Madeline a joy to behold. She would have loved him anyway, but the fact he’d come after her even though he hadn’t known about the deal she’d made with her dad? She adored him for that.

  “Where’s Aaron?” Sophia asked. At six months’ pregnant, she looked beautiful in her red velvet jumper covered in dancing candy canes. She plopped a bright pink bow on Pippa’s curly head before sinking onto the sofa next to Trish.

  Trish lifted her phone and snapped a picture. “He said something about more gifts, crazy man. He should be back soon.”

  Sophia laughed. “He’s having fun this year, it’s good to see. You’re a good influence.”

  Trish flushed. “I think it’s all Madeline.”

  Hearing her name, Maddie glanced guiltily at her mom as she reached for Pippa’s bow. Matt solved the impending argument by plucking a neon green corkscrew ribbon from another parcel and handing it to the baby. Satisfied, she dropped to the floor and worked at hooking it into her hair like her cousin’s.

  Sophia clasped Trish’s hand. “Give yourself some credit. He’s a different guy around you. Happier.”

  Trish’s throat tightened. She hugged her friend. “When I think of what my dad planned—”

  Sophia vigorously shook her head. “None of that,” she admonished. “If not for you and your father we might have lost the ranch. What did Aaron say when you told him?”

  “He took it better than expected. I think he was just relieved the pressure you were under is gone. He even called my father to thank him.” His forgiveness meant more than she could say. It had taken a united front to hold back the shareholders and get them to agree to take a chance on Balmoral, but already they were seeing a return on their investment. The guest ranch was fully booked for the first quarter, Matt had sold two of his mares at a profit with calls coming in for more, and Aaron had received funding to further research his irrigation ideas. The tides were changing, and Trish was grateful to have helped in some small measure.

  “Daddy, daddy.”

  Maddie’s delighted squeal alerted her to Aaron’s return. He’d entered without anyone noticing and stood near the door, staring at her with a diffident expression. Trish rose, her pulse going haywire.

  Aaron crossed the room to stand in front of her, his eyes suspiciously bright.

  Now she really was worried. “What’s wrong? You’re scaring me.” Was it her mom? Her father?

  Taking her hands in his trembling ones, Aaron dropped to one knee. Sophia gasped while Trish burst into tears. “I know we’ve had our share of ups and downs,” he began, and everyone laughed, “but, through it all my love for you remained constant. And then you gave me the precious gift of our daughter and I realized how empty my world would be without you.”

  He tugged a blue velvet box from his pocket and lifted the lid to reveal a stunning solitaire diamond ring. “Trish Sylvester, I promise to love and cherish you all the days of our lives. Will you marry me?”

  Maddie, tired of being ignored, flung herself into her father’s arms, upsetting his grip on the box. It landed in the pile of discarded gift wrap and disappeared.

  Aaron stared at her, stunned, then broke out laughing. “So much for romantic gestures.”

  “No one move,” Consuela called, already beginning the search. Matt and Cassandra joined in while Tony leaned over to relieve Aaron of his girl.

  “Come with Uncle Tony. I know where the candy is hidden.”

  Aaron kept his gaze on Trish. “You’re making me sweat, here. Are you going to give me an answer? I need you, Trish.”

  She sank to the floor and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you with my heart and soul,” she whispered. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I’d be honored to become your wife.” Their lips met in a kiss filled with passion, promise and wonder. Trish melted in the heated blue fire of his eyes.

  “So, is that a yes?” he murmured against her mouth.

  She smiled, her world suddenly a much brighter place. “That’s a hell yes.”

  Afterword

  These days, the ranching industry is finding it tougher and tougher to stay alive in a challenging climate.

  Being an independent rancher is simply not financially attractive, and by 2012 there were 20,000 more Texas farmers age 70 or older than there were Texas farmers between the ages of 25 and 34. Aging ranchers are left with little control over what will happen to their land when they’re gone, since their sons or daughters are often uninterested in continuing the ranching tradition they’ve inherited.

  I wrote this series partially because of a love of horses, but mainly to bring an awareness to the uncertain fate of farmers. We need this industry to survive and should be doing whatever we can to protect our pioneers and secure the land for future generations to come.

  Acknowledgments

  I hope you enjoyed My Girl, Book 3 in the Gambling Hearts series. I’ve also included a small excerpt from Skating on Thin Ice- Book 1 in the Men of WarHawks series to share the beginning of Sam and Mac’s story.

  Reviews are the lifeblood of any successful author. Without you, we can’t be heard.

  If you enjoy the story, please consider sharing on your favorite social media sites, as well as GoodReads and from wherever you’ve bought the book.

  Thank you,

  Jacquie Biggar

  Jacqbiggar.com

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  My Baby Wrote Me A Letter

  A family's brush with the past will threaten the fabric of their lives.

  Eight months pregnant and her Navy husband away on a mission, Grace Freeman craves the security of her childhood home in Canada.

  When a letter written by her long-lost mother is found in an old writing desk it creates a tear in the fabric of her family.

  Can Grace find a way to bring peace to those she loves, or will a message from the past destroy their future?

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  Preview Skating on Thin Ice

  Mac Wanowski was having the best night of his hockey career. Two goals and three assists with a period and a half to go. Everything was going their way. He should be a shoo-in for MVP. The Victoria WarHawks were playing on home turf to a full stadium of rowdy fans with fast ice—nothing could stop him now.

  The blow came out of nowhere.

  One minute he was flying down the ice with the puck held in the sweet spot of his stick, the crowd roaring his name, the net in sight, in the next instant Mac was shoved from behind and smacked into the boards. He bounced and went down hard on his right knee. The pain was immediate and intense. It sucked the breath from his lungs and left him seeing stars. He dropped his head between his arms and tried t
o remain conscious until the medics arrived. It was small consolation the refs caught the illegal move and rang the penalty buzzer.

  Fricking Murtagh.

  The other team’s enforcer liked to pull sneak attacks. He’d done it before. Mac rolled onto his back and blinked as the auditorium swam before his eyes.

  “Wow, man, that had to hurt.” Samson chortled, skidding to a stop against the boards. The plexi-glass shook with the collision.

  Edwards, the team’s doctor skated across the ice in his dress shoes and dropped to his side. “Hey, Hammer, nice hit. How you doing?”

  “Been better,” Mac grumbled. He squinted through the face-shield and yanked off his gloves. “It’s the knee, Doc. Screwed it good this time.” The helmet came next, clattering onto the ice along with his dreams.

  “Don’t worry. He will pay.” Lazlo, the grinder, towered over Mac glaring at the other team as though daring them to come near.

  “Keep it clean, boys,” the ref said, gliding up to pat the Croatian’s arm. “I don’t wanna send you to the bench, but I will.” He exchanged a look with the doc, then blew his whistle and waved an arm over his head. “Gurney’s on the way.”

  Mac growled and tried to sit up, but Edwards forced him down. The guy might be old but working around a bunch of hockey players kept him in shape. “Take it easy, Mac. It’s just a precaution. You don’t want to aggravate that tendon any more than you need to.”

  Getting hauled off the ice like an invalid only added insult to injury. Not even the crowd’s support could ease his wrath against the meathead who’d taken him down. He strained to see past the EMT’s hold on the gurney. Murtagh sat in the penalty box, his arrogant gaze triumphant even as his coach tore him a new asshole from over his shoulder.

  Pissed, Mac pointed and mouthed, “You’re mine.” Then they were in the hallway heading toward the dressing room and his adrenaline waned, leaving him drawn and listless. The knee throbbed, pressing uncomfortably against his protective padding. His shoulder ached from smashing into the wall and his insides jiggled like a bowl full of jelly. But if Doc gave him the go-ahead he could still make the third period. He needed to get out there and support his team, dammit.

  Coach was waiting when he arrived, pacing and muttering while running a hand over his thinning pate. The second the EMTs set him down on the exam table Coach was breathing in his face.

  “What the hell, Wanowski? I told you to pass! This superhero complex of yours is costing the team. Now what are we supposed to do, huh? We’re already two men down and play-offs are coming up. Your actions tonight might have cost us the season. How do you feel now, asshole?”

  Like shit, thanks for asking. The man had it in for him ever since Mac hooked up with his daughter for one never-to-be-repeated night, and nothing he did for the team was enough. It bothered him that this time Coach was right—he’d screwed up. Not that he could admit it, especially with all the interested ears wagging in the room. So, he said nothing.

  The coach threw up his hands and stormed out of the room, heading back to what was left of the game. Mac just hoped they could retain their five-three lead until it ended.

  “You like playing with fire, don’t ya?” Doc Edwards shook his head. “Your contract is almost up with the WarHawks, Mac. Have you given any thought to what comes next?”

  Mac frowned at the doc’s back as he turned away to open his medical bag. “You hear something you want to tell me about?” He’d given three of his best years to this team. If the franchise planned to trade him off, the least they could do was tell him to his face.

  Doc held up his hand. “Don’t get your shorts in a knot, kid. I merely meant you can’t play hockey forever. You must have a backup plan, right?’

  Kid. Mac grunted as the other man loosened the ties on his knee guard. The resulting relief was quickly replaced by agony as blood rushed to the injury. He clenched his fists against the cool metal of the exam table and stared at the ceiling with its ugly track lighting while Doc poked and prodded the area like a sadist.

  No, he didn’t have a backup plan—this was it for him. Hockey was in his blood. It fed his dark soul and gave him the only true joy he’d ever known.

  He couldn’t leave the game.

  “How bad, Doc?” He tipped his head to look down the length of his body and swore. Just as he’d thought, the knee was swollen and already showing signs of bruising. Last time he’d injured it, he’d ended up with water under the kneecap and had to have it drained. Fun times.

  Edwards snapped an ice pack into action and set it against his skin before meeting his worried gaze. “I won’t know for sure until we do x-rays. My best guess is your ACL.” Mac winced. “Hopefully it’s a sprain instead of a full tear which would mean surgery and months of rehab.”

  Christ, just what he didn’t need right now. He laid down and covered his eyes with his forearm. “And if it’s a sprain?”

  “Sorry, Mac. You’re still looking at two-to-four weeks recovery time, physio, and preferably crutches. I know someone, Sam Walters, who’s good at this sort of injury. I’ll call and see what I can get lined up.”

  Mac let him drone on with his voice of doom, meanwhile inside his stomach twisted into their own disastrous knots.

  What was he going to do now?

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  About the Author

  JACQUIE BIGGAR is a USA Today bestselling author of Romantic Suspense who loves to write about tough, alpha males and strong, contemporary women willing to show their men that true power comes from love.

  She is the author of the popular Wounded Hearts series and has just started a new series in paranormal suspense, Mended Souls.

  She has been blessed with a long, happy marriage and enjoys writing romance novels that end with happily-ever-afters.

  Jacquie lives in paradise along the west coast of Canada with her family and loves reading, writing, and flower gardening. She swears she can't function without coffee, preferably at the beach with her sweetheart. :)

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  Also by Jacquie Biggar

  Wounded Hearts Series

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  The Rebel’s Redemption

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  Maggie’s Revenge

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  Mended Souls Series

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  My Girl

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  Blue Haven

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  Single Titles

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  The Lady Said No

  My Baby Wrote Me A Letter

  Tempted by Mr. Wrong

  Valentine: A Hearts and Kisses Romance

  Mistletoe Inn

  Skating on Thin Ice