Her Second Chance Cowboy (Crystal Creek Sweet Romances #1)

Chapter One

Emma stepped out of her car, the crunch of gravel beneath her boots a familiar yet distant sound. She took a deep breath, the crisp mountain air filling her lungs, tinged with the scent of pine and the faint muskiness of horses. It had been years since she’d set foot on the sprawling ranch where she’d grown up, and the weight of memories, both cherished and painful, settled heavily on her shoulders.

She surveyed the property, taking in the weathered barn, the rustic fence line, and the majestic peaks rising in the distance. It was a postcard-perfect scene, but to Emma, it felt more like a bittersweet dream. She was here to settle her father’s affairs and sell the ranch, not to reminisce about a past she’d left behind long ago.

As she walked towards the house, her gaze fell upon the porch swing where she and her father used to sit, sipping lemonade and watching the sun dip below the horizon. A lump formed in her throat as she recalled his deep, reassuring voice and the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. He’d always wanted her to take over the ranch someday, to build a life in this small town where roots ran deep and neighbors were like family.

But Emma had dreamed of something different, of skyscrapers and city lights, of a career that didn’t involve calloused hands and early mornings in the saddle. She’d left for college in Chicago and never looked back, building a career in a successful marketing firm and a life far removed from the slow, steady rhythms of ranch work.

Now, standing in the shadow of her childhood home, Emma felt a pang of guilt. She’d been so focused on her own ambitions that she’d let her connection to this place, and to her father, slip away. In the years since she’d moved, their phone calls had grown shorter and less frequent, until finally, the news of his passing had reached her through a terse voicemail from a distant cousin.

Emma climbed the porch steps, her hand hesitating on the doorknob. She steeled herself, pushing away the grief that threatened to engulf her. She had a job to do, and sentiment wouldn’t make it any easier. The sooner she could get the ranch ready to sell, the sooner she could return to her real life in the city, where she belonged.

But as she stepped over the threshold, the scent of her father’s favorite tobacco and the sight of his well-worn boots by the door made her pause. Suddenly, the idea of packing up his life, of erasing his presence from this house, seemed unbearable. Emma leaned against the wall, her vision blurring with unshed tears.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment to feel the full weight of her loss. The ranch had been her father’s entire world, and now it was up to her to decide its fate. The thought was overwhelming, and Emma felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her.

Straightening her shoulders, she pushed herself off the wall and headed towards the kitchen. She needed a strong cup of coffee and a plan of action. There would be time for grief later, but right now, she had work to do. As she set the kettle on the stove, Emma glanced out the window at the rugged landscape that stretched before her. Somewhere out there, answers awaited. She just hoped she had the strength to find them.

The coffee was bitter on Emma’s tongue, but she welcomed the sharp jolt of caffeine. She cradled the mug in her hands, the heat seeping into her palms as she leaned against the kitchen counter. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on the well-worn wooden floorboards.

Emma’s gaze drifted to the refrigerator, where a collection of faded photographs and yellowed newspaper clippings hung haphazardly. She stepped closer, her fingers grazing over an image of her father, much younger, grinning proudly beside a prize-winning steer. Another showed him astride a chestnut mare, his cowboy hat tipped back and his eyes crinkled with laughter.

A small, sad smile tugged at the corners of Emma’s mouth. These were the moments she’d missed, the pieces of her father’s life that she’d never been a part of. She scanned the collage, searching for a glimpse of her own face among the memories, but found none. It was as if she’d never existed in this world, her presence erased by time and distance.

Emma’s attention was drawn to a more recent photo, tucked behind the others. She plucked it from the collage, her breath catching in her throat. It was a picture of her father, his arm slung around the shoulders of a tall, broad-shouldered man with familiar green eyes. Cody. Her heart squeezed at the sight of her childhood best friend, his smile as warm and genuine as she remembered.

She studied the photo, taking in the easy camaraderie between the two men. Cody had always been more of a son to her father than she had been a daughter. While she’d been chasing her dreams in the city, Cody had been here, working alongside her father, learning the ins and outs of ranch life. The thought left a bittersweet taste in her mouth, sharper than the coffee she’d just finished.

Emma set the photo back on the fridge, her finger lingering on her father’s face for a moment longer. She wondered what he would think of her now, returning to the ranch after years of silence. The unanswered questions hung heavy in the air, mingling with the dust motes that danced in the sunlight.

Shaking off the thought, Emma drained the last of her coffee and placed the mug in the sink. She had no time for what-ifs and might-have-beens. The ranch needed her attention now, and the sooner she started, the sooner she could get back to her home and her own life. Crystal Creek wasn’t her home anymore, and it hadn’t been for a long time. Memories and regrets weren’t about to change that.

She strode out of the kitchen and onto the porch, the screen door banging shut behind her. The sun was high in the sky now, casting deep shadows across the yard. Emma shielded her eyes, scanning the property with a critical gaze. The barn looked weathered but sturdy, and the corrals were in decent shape. But the pastures were overgrown, and the fence line was in need of repair.

Emma rolled up her sleeves, ready to tackle the first task on her mental list. She’d start with the barn, checking the structural integrity and making sure there was enough feed for the cattle until they could be sold. And, she supposed, after that she’d need to check on the animals themselves, and find out who’d been looking after them since her father passed. She needed to make sure everything was clean and serviceable so the property would sell as quickly as possible. It would be hard work, but she welcomed the distraction. Physical labor would keep her mind off the dull ache in her chest and the nagging sense that she was in over her head.

As she crossed the yard, Emma’s boot caught on a loose rock, sending her stumbling. She caught herself on the fence post, splinters biting into her palm. Cursing under her breath, she straightened up and brushed off her jeans. The ranch was already testing her, it seemed, throwing obstacles in her path at every turn. Like it didn’t want her back any more than she wanted to be back.

But Emma was nothing if not determined. She’d faced down ruthless businessmen and cut-throat competitors in the boardroom. Surely, she could handle a few acres of land and a handful of stubborn cattle. With a deep breath and a squared jaw, she marched towards the barn, ready to begin the long, arduous process of getting the ranch ready for the market.

As she approached, a sense of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. The weathered wood seemed to sag under the weight of time, and the once vibrant red paint had faded to a dull, rusty hue. She hesitated at the entrance, her hand resting on the rough, splintered door frame. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and stepped inside.

The musty smell of old hay and dust assaulted her nostrils, and she blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the dirty windows. Cobwebs hung from the rafters, and the floor was littered with debris – broken boards, rusted tools, and old feed sacks. Emma’s heart sank as she took in the state of disrepair. It was worse than she’d imagined.

She picked her way carefully through the clutter, her boots stirring up small clouds of dust with each step. The stalls along the back wall were in shambles, their doors hanging crookedly on rusted hinges. Emma peered into each one, noting the rotting wood and the thick layer of grime that coated every surface.

As she neared the end of the row, a soft whicker caught her attention. Emma froze, her heart skipping a beat. She knew that sound, even after all these years. Slowly, she turned towards the last stall, hardly daring to breathe.

There, in the dim light, stood a familiar figure. The mare was older now, her once glossy coat dulled with age, but Emma would know her anywhere. “Daisy?” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

The horse nickered softly, her ears pricking forward at the sound of Emma’s voice. Emma stepped closer, her hand trembling as she reached out to stroke the mare’s velvety nose. Tears blurred her vision as memories flooded back – countless hours spent riding through the meadows, the wind whipping through her hair, the feeling of freedom and joy that only Daisy could give her.

“I can’t believe you’re still here,” Emma murmured, leaning her forehead against Daisy’s. “After all this time...”

She’d left the ranch almost fifteen years ago, following her mother to the city after the divorce. It had been a wrenching decision, leaving behind the only home she’d ever known, her father, and Daisy. She’d cried herself to sleep for weeks, dreaming of the ranch and the life she’d left behind. She’d almost forgotten those early days, when she’d wanted to come back, before the city had become her home.

Now, standing in the dilapidated barn, with Daisy’s warm breath tickling her cheek, Emma felt a rush of emotions – grief, guilt, and a bittersweet sense of homecoming. Her father had kept Daisy all these years, even after she’d grown too old to ride. The realization made Emma’s heart ache with a fresh wave of loss.

As she stood there, lost in thought, a movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Emma turned to see another horse watching her from the adjacent stall. He was a tall, handsome gelding, with a coat the same rich chestnut as Daisy’s had once been. He regarded her with intelligent eyes, his head cocked slightly to the side.

Emma approached him slowly, marveling at the uncanny resemblance to her childhood mount. “Well, hello there,” she said softly, holding out her hand for the gelding to sniff. “Aren’t you a handsome boy?”

The horse nuzzled her palm, his soft muzzle tickling her skin. Emma smiled, feeling a strange sense of connection to this unfamiliar animal.

As she stood there, one hand on Daisy’s neck, the other stroking the gelding’s nose, Emma felt a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over her. The emotional toll of the day, combined with the daunting task ahead, seemed to press down on her like a physical weight.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of the familiar scents – horse, hay, and leather. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine a different life, one where she’d never left the ranch, where she’d grown up alongside Daisy and learned the ways of the land from her father.

But the moment passed, and reality came crashing back. The ranch was in disrepair, the horses needed care, and she had a job to do. Emma straightened her shoulders, pushing away the wistful thoughts. It was a silly fantasy, and her place was in the city. The sooner she could tie things up here and get back there, the better.

But in the meantime, she’d need to call a vet to check on the horses, and hire a contractor to assess the damage to the barn. There were fences to mend, pastures to clear, and a hundred other tasks that demanded her attention.

Despite the logistical nightmare running through her mind – or maybe because of it, she admitted wryly, Emma couldn’t bring herself to leave Daisy and the gelding just yet. They were a tangible connection to her past, to the life she’d left behind. And despite her determination to sell the ranch and move on, Emma couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something else – a sense of possibility, a whisper of what could be.

She shook her head, pushing the thought away. She had no time for sentimentality, no room for second guesses. The ranch was a chapter in her life that had long since closed, and it was up to her to tie up the loose ends and move on.

But she couldn’t quite silence the small, insistent voice in the back of her mind – the one that whispered of home, of family, and of a future that might just be worth fighting for.