Book 1 in the Brand New Series, 7 Brides for 7 Cowboys Sweet Western Romance series, is here! Read the First Chapter of The Forgiven Cowboy’s Best Friend below…

CHAPTER ONE

Wyatt



A sharp crack of thunder in the sky above shook the large group of mourners who stood solemnly at the graveside.
Sudden flashes of lightning raced across the darkened sky, lighting up the two large bells that hung side-by-side on the Bell tower of the Community Church in the small town of Canyon Mountain, Montana.

Wyatt Callahan stood motionless as he saw how the burst of light brightened the Church Bells against the black sky. The bells reminded him of all those things he used to count on in his life: hope, miracles and love.

Now, years later, he could not lay claim to any of those gifts for himself. 
Wyatt was convinced he didn’t deserve good in his life. 
He’d hurt too many people. He’d made too many mistakes. He’d done too much wrong.
To his way of thinking, some things he’d done didn’t deserve forgiveness.

His gaze lowered from the Church Bells in the background, to the casket that was being lowered into the grave. 
Today he was mourning the death of a good friend. Tom was someone he’d grown up with here in Canyon Mountain.

This was the second funeral Wyatt had stood by in the last three days. 
Their Dad, Mack Callahan, had passed away a few days ago, and it had shaken him and his family to the core.

His mom and six brothers had stood silently by Dad’s graveside as his body was placed in the earth.
Besides his brother Levi’s passing, a couple of years ago, burying Mack Callahan had been one of the most difficult losses he’d experienced. 
It had been unexpected and heartbreaking.

Their Dad never let them know last Christmas that he was dying. Wyatt shouldn’t have been surprised. It was like him to be stoic and muscle his way through whatever hand life dealt him.
Wyatt really missed him. 
It had been a huge loss for each of Mack Callahan’s sons to lose their father’s solid and steady presence.
Wyatt wasn’t looking forward to a future without his Dad in his life.

But he wasn’t going to think about that today. 
Today he was here to honor a friend who lost his life. 
Sergeant Tom Hart’s sudden death, under Wyatt’s military command two weeks ago in combination with his own injuries, had been the reason he’d come home a little earlier than planned. 
Facing the small group of mourners, he stood straight and tall, his body tense.

He was dressed in full Captain uniform out of respect for his friend, who had died in their last combat mission. 
Wyatt pulled his mouth into a tight line as he stared at the newly covered grave. His hand shook as memories haunted him of that day. He clenched his hand into a fist, keeping it at his side to stop the shaking.

He should be the one buried today, instead of his friend.
 It was his fault Sergeant Hart had died.
 He knew of at least one other person mourning Tom’s death who would agree. 
Abby Hart.

Wyatt turned, using his full six-foot-three inch height to find her. As she stood next to the grave, her black hat shielded the beautiful face he knew so well. Her mother and sister were on one side, and Tom’s mom — Abby’s mother-in-law — on her other side.
Abby was well and truly safeguarded on all sides. 
She was protected from the likes of him.

Despite the annoyed glances he received from some older Canyon Mountain residents, Wyatt continued to let his gaze rest on her. 
It had been so long since he’d seen her last. Seemed like a lifetime. He was hungry for a glimpse of her and now that he saw her again; he was drinking his fill.

His brows crumpled in worry. He couldn’t help but notice how fragile she looked. 
Her bones were outlined clearly in the black dress that hugged her slender figure. 
Abby wasn’t eating properly. He remembered from years ago, she didn’t eat when she was stressed or overwhelmed.

She looked his way, her jaw clamped tight when she saw him watching her.
 He was certain that she was upset with him. She wasn’t going to listen to what he had to say. Not today, and maybe not ever.

There was so much Wyatt needed to tell her.

He wanted to say he was sorry for not meeting her at their special place all those years ago. He wanted to tell her he was sorry for leaving town so abruptly. He wanted to tell her how very sorry he was to have been responsible for her husband’s death.
 There was too much unsaid history between them.

Abby’s green eyes stared at him for a moment longer. Her lips pressed shut as if she was trying to force herself not to make a sound. 
Wyatt met the unflinching accusation in her gaze, as if it was his due. He deserved every bit of hatred and contempt she threw at him. And yet, despite knowing that, he couldn’t stop himself from longing for her forgiveness, anyway.

He missed the easy-going friendship he’d had with her. He missed their late night talks. He missed everything about her.
Abby had been his best friend. 
He yearned for what they once were together.

Wyatt sighed in frustration. What was he thinking? She was someone else’s wife — his good friend Tom Hart’s wife — er, widow. 
You need to leave her alone. Haven’t you already caused Abby enough pain? Already, she can’t stand the sight of you. Just let it be.


As if to prove his inner thoughts true, Abby quickly turned to stare straight ahead, but not before Wyatt noticed that her green eyes had darkened to match the angry thunderclouds in the sky above. Wyatt swallowed and expelled a frustrated breath before returning his gaze to the Pastor, who was speaking a final blessing.

Knots formed in his belly. 
He didn’t want it to be this difficult between them. 
Yet, he didn’t see any other way. And he didn’t know if things would ever get better between them. 
Impatient, he expelled a breath as the graveside service ended.

He waited patiently for the mourners to walk away from the graveside, back to their waiting vehicles. 
Thunder cracked loudly in the air above once again. Most people eager to get away from the threatening sounds of rain.
 He stood motionless as people walked by him.

Two gray haired ladies turned to look at him. It was the Peabody twins. Gretchen and Gertrude Peabody were the oldest residents of Canyon Mountain and very vocal about all things — or people — they approved of or disapproved. Their father, George Peabody, had owned the first General Store in Canyon Mountain and the twins still operated the store to this day.
 Both of them tossed him a disapproving glare as they passed by.
 It was obvious that the twins had long memories of his wild younger days. He was convinced that their attitudes reflected those of the rest of their small town.

He sighed heavily, relieved when they moved on. 
Wyatt wished he could talk to Abby.
 As he saw Abby walk away from the grave, he saw another woman with strawberry blonde hair, wearing a dark grey dress embracing Abby. He’d remembered Abby’s best friend Sierra Baxter from her High School days. He was thankful Abby had family and friends that supported her during this difficult time.

It wasn’t long before Abby’s friends and family had left her side to talk with others who had come to show their respects for her late husband.
 For the moment, it seemed she was without protectors by her side. 
Without hesitating, Wyatt’s long legged strides took him to her side.

She looked up and gasped at his unexpected appearance at her side.

With one hand, he removed his service cap and fingered it between both of his hands before nodding to her. Her large green eyes, simply stared at him as if unsure of what to say. 
Wyatt forced himself to speak before he lost his nerve. “I’m real sorry for your loss, Abby.” 
He swallowed nervously, shifting the cap in his hand. “Tom was a good man.”

Abby’s eyes brimmed over with tears, weaving a path down her cheeks. How he wished he could capture her tears with his thumb and hold her gently in his arms. But of course, she would never allow that. At least not anymore.

Abby looked up at him, her lips quivering as if she was about to say something, when Abby’s older sister stepped between them. 
“Can’t you see she’s been through enough?” Hadley’s short dark brown hair bounced as she lifted her chin, her brown eyes were narrowed and dark with challenge. “Stay away from her. You’ve hurt my sister one too many times, Wyatt Callahan. I’m not going to give you the chance to do it again.”

With one last accusing look, Hadley grabbed Abby’s arm and hurried her away from him.
Wyatt expelled a breath. Abby’s sister wasn’t wrong. He had hurt Abby.
He stood there motionless for a moment, watching them walk away. Guilt and remorse flooded him once again, so he turned on his heel and walked stoically toward his truck.
His hands were still shaking as he turned the truck onto the road that led to the Triple C Ranch.

He berated himself all the way back home. Why does your brain turn to mush whenever Abby is nearby? You’ve got to stop trying to talk to her. She’s not for you. She might have been the woman you loved years ago, but she’ll never be yours again. Just accept it.


Wyatt tried to convince himself of that truth. But, for some reason his heart didn’t want to agree. 
But this time he was determined that his heart wouldn’t have a say in the matter.
 This time around, he would stay away from the only woman he’d ever loved.

 


* * *

 

“I can’t believe you let that man speak to you.” Hadley finished pouring tea into Abby’s teacup and set the teapot down on the hot plate with a huff.

Ever since the graveside service to bury her husband five days ago, Abby’s sister had either called or texted. It appeared as if every time they were in contact, Hadley prattled on and on about how terrible it was that Wyatt Callahan had come back to Canyon Mountain.
Today, her mother and Hadley had shown up at the ranch for lunch. Her mother said she was concerned about Abby now that Tom was gone.

Abby sighed in frustration at her sister’s constant meddling. “Wyatt didn’t do anything other than voice his condolences, Hadley. Just leave it be.”

Helen Meadows, Abby’s mom, poured more tea into her cup, shaking her head and sighing.

“What?” Abby could tell by her mother’s body movements that there was something she disapproved of. 
After a small sip of tea, her mother slowly set her cup down before returning her gaze to her youngest daughter.

“I think your sister is right, Abigail.
Her mother always used her full name when she was upset with her. 
It was a little annoying.
 “You mustn’t do anything to ruin your good name. In my opinion, getting overly friendly with the man who once asked your father for your hand in marriage isn’t a good idea. Especially considering the fact that you just lost your husband.” Her mother sipped her tea, looking pointedly over the rim of her teacup at Abby. “I mean, what will people think?”

A flash of heat rose from her belly, shooting up to her chest and inflating until she was sure she would burst. She expelled a long, slow breath, counting backwards from ten.
“Mom and Hadley, I am grateful for your concern.” Abby sighed heavily, still trying to regain control of her temper. “But I am well aware of how people in this small town gossip. But, as an adult woman, I am fully capable of choosing who I want to talk to or spend time with.”

“But Abby, surely you see the wisdom in avoiding a man like Wyatt Callahan. Your father, when he was alive, didn’t want you associating with him as you well know. And now that your husband Tom is gone, you must continue to do everything you can to uphold and respect the prominent Hart family name in this community.” Her mother persisted in offering her advice.
Abby coughed and nearly choked on the tea she’d just swallowed.

The absurdity of her mother’s words made her want to laugh out loud. Instead, she grabbed a napkin from beside her plate and coughed once more. She could feel bile rising into her throat from the churning in her belly.
 There were so many secrets and lies in their own family that had been hidden away, hoping the world wouldn’t find them out. And her mother was worried about Abby’s reputation if she got too close to Wyatt Callahan? 
It was ridiculous.

“Excuse me for a moment. I need some water.” Abby stood to her feet, hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a glass.
Turning on the water faucet, she held the glass with shaking hands. Closing her eyes, she breathed out slowly. Taking a drink of the water, she tried desperately to get rid of the acidic taste in her mouth.
 How could her mother still hold her father’s decisions regarding relationships or marriage as something she should heed to?

Did she think Abby didn’t remember the bruises on her mom’s face the day after their father spent the evening in town? Wasn’t it enough, that the one time she’d tried to stop one of his drunken rages, she received a broken arm for her efforts?
 She understood that her mother wanted to respect her Dad’s memory. Yet, it bothered Abby that her mother continued to bring up the fact that her father hadn’t thought Wyatt Callahan was good enough for her — wasn’t good enough for their imperfect family.

In the end she had given in to her parent’s wishes. She’d married Tom Hart.
 The Hart family owned a lot of businesses in Canyon Mountain and surrounding area. She married into that prominent family, which was probably the one thing she had done that had finally pleased her parents.

However, she’d only been married one month before she learned her new husband had his own set of problems. 
Problems she’d lived with as Tom’s wife for five long years.
 Her husband’s addiction had almost ended their marriage.
 She hadn’t told a soul, but she still lived with the consequences of her husband’s bad choices today.

Maybe she had been doomed from the beginning. Swallowing back the rest of the water, she set the glass down and walked back to the dining room.

Sitting down at the table, Abby sighed, looking first to Hadley and then to her Mother.
“Thank you for your advice, Mom and for yours Hadley. I will think about what you’ve said.” Abby swallowed before continuing. “Thank you for being here for me today and for your help. But, I really need to go take care of my horses. The weather has changed and I see a storm is on the way, so I need to make sure they’re okay. I’m sure you’ll want to get home before this driveway turns to mud.”

Abby set her chin with a new determination. She didn’t want to offend her family, but she desperately needed space to figure out her own life. 
Her mother and sister looked at her as if she was a puzzle they were trying to figure out.


Finally Hadley sighed. “Well, we certainly don’t want to be stuck here on the ranch in this rainstorm. I was so happy when you and Tom bought Dad and Mom’s ranch. Living in town has been so nice and clean, without the worries of ranch life. How you can stand living here is beyond me, Abby.”

Hadley stood to her feet and picked up the purse she had strung over the back of the chair. Her sister had always been super fussy about how she liked things. They had never understood each other. “Coming mom? We should probably get home before the weather turns worse.” 
As Abby digested her sister’s words, awareness dawned on her about the real difference between them.

Abby loved the ranch, because it could remove her from untrustworthy people and gave her the freedom to work all day with animals. Horses, dogs and cats were animals that she loved and loved her back unconditionally. Understanding her pets was far easier than understanding people.

Her mom stood to her feet and Abby walked them both to the door. “Abby, I hope you’ll listen to my advice.” Her mother slipped on her coat, before glancing in Abby’s direction. She sighed. “I only want the best for you.”

“I know you do.” Abby didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Whatever she said would likely start another disagreement, so she simply kissed her Mom’s cheek and hugged them both. “Love you. See you both later.”
Abby watched from the kitchen window as they drove off the ranch yard.

As she watched them drive away, she was thankful that so far her family or none of her friends from town had learned the desperate state the ranch was really in.
With Tom’s death, she really hoped she wouldn’t learn of more unpaid debts.
Her finances were hemorrhaging at the seams. She was doing her best to pay off debts, but only could manage a small amount every month.

Her biggest worry however, was that in all likelihood she was going to lose the ranch.

The letter from the bank and her visit with the mortgage lender last week confirmed her worst fears: If she didn’t pay the rest of what was owed, the bank would foreclose by the last day of December.

Fear and anger knotted in her belly. 
She didn’t have any idea how she was going to save the ranch. All her life, this ranch had been the one place she felt she belonged. How could she lose it now? 
Fear and anger warred inside her. She was afraid to lose the one thing that meant the world to her.

She was angry at Tom for dying and leaving her alone in the first place.
 Guilt consumed her as these thoughts filled her mind. Abby, how can you be angry at your husband because he passed away? You can’t hold onto this. It wasn’t Tom’s fault he died.


She shook her head, trying to dispel the angry narrative going round and round in her head.
 For today, she had to look at her reality square in the face. Her husband was gone, and she needed to fix her money situation before the bank took her ranch.
 Worry gnawed at her as she thought of the upcoming meeting she had with her husband’s attorney.
 Abby wasn’t looking forward to meeting with her husband’s attorney in a few days. Would she learn more terrible news?

In the past year, she’d needed to take on extra work, just to cover all the bills.
Abby closed her eyes. She wished with all her heart that she could have one moment of peace, away from the constant pressure of bills, lack of money and expectations of family.
 Turning her head, she stopped at the framed picture of Tom and her at their wedding five years ago. A single tear slipped down her cheek.

Now that her husband had passed away, she was well and truly alone. Why did you have to leave me, Tom? I’m trying hard not to be angry at you right now. And I don’t mind admitting I’m scared. I really don’t know if I can manage everything on my own.
She walked over and touched the framed wedding portrait, running one finger over her husband’s handsome features. Ours might have been a turbulent marriage, but I still loved you in my own way. 
She kissed the tip of a finger and pressed it to the face of her husband in the photo.

More tears fell down her cheeks. Angrily, she wiped them away. You will not live in fear, Abigail Meadows Hart. What’s done is done. Now is the time that you must choose courage in spite of your fear.
 The loud splatter of rain against the window and the loud whinny of horses brought her back to the task at hand.

Abby straightened her shoulders and hurried to the porch to slip on her raincoat and gumboots. She had work to do.
 As she ran across the yard to the barn, the stormy weather hit so hard that she could barely see.

Heavy rain poured down in sheets and she was dripping wet by the time she opened the sliding barn doors. 
Only one horse was in the stall. The other horse was somewhere in the pasture.

Closing the front doors behind her, Abby hurried to the back of the barn and opened the door wide enough so she could see if her horse was nearby.
 On normal days, they stood under the feed shelter in the middle of the pasture. She hurried toward the shelter but her horse wasn’t there.
 Abby went back to the barn and gave Blackie his feed, deep in thought. What she needed to do was find the missing horse. 
Stocking, her beloved mare, was missing.

Worried, Abby called out. “Stocking, come home.” 
She called for her horse a few times and was worried when she didn’t hear an answering whinny. She whistled for her horse. Her piercing whistle was so loud it could’ve split the air, but there was no response. And still no sign of her horse.

Her brows creased together, anxious over what might have happened. With a new determination born of passion for her horse, she hurried over to the black gelding who had been kept dry and rested in the barn. 
Slipping a bridle over his neck, Abby led him out of the stall and toward the back barn doors.


She wasn’t looking forward to being out in the rain, but she was desperate to find her horse. Stocking needed to be back home where she belonged.
Pulling open the sliding doors, she was just about to slide onto Blackie, when she heard the clopping of horse hooves coming closer.

Peering outside, she saw two horses walking toward the barn. One was her horse, and the other was Wyatt’s large coffee colored quarter horse.


Walking between the horses was Wyatt Callahan.
 He had a half smile on his face as he stared at her. “Looking for something?”

His tall form with the muscled shoulders and arms were what first attracted her to him as a teenager. He looked tough, lean, and sinewy. He was as rugged as the jagged mountains behind the ranch.
 Wyatt had always done so much for his brothers and parents.

She’d always wondered if his broad shoulders ever tired of the troubles he carried.
 As a teenager, Abby saw how busy he was with responsibilities like attending college and helping care for the Callahan cattle and horses. But he’d started making time for her, too.
 Then he’d begun teaching her how to train her horse. Sometimes they would race, and other times she would help Wyatt and his brothers round up their cattle. Abby remembered it had been impossible for her to resist her handsome next door neighbor.

She spent a lot of time with him and grew to love him. Their age difference didn’t bother her. Wyatt had been twenty-four when she was eighteen, but they understood each other.

Then, just when Abby was convinced he would marry her, Wyatt left town without a word.
 She’d been so angry. First angry and then desperately sad and lonely without him.

This week had been the first time in seven years that she’d laid eyes on him.

Looking at Wyatt now, he was still as confident, big and powerful as ever. The small crow’s feet, she noticed by his eyes, only made him more handsome. 
His gray eyes, shadowed slightly under his cowboy hat, studied her with a curious and probing intensity. She felt as if his gaze saw into her very soul.

Abby blinked, lightheaded at the intensity of his gaze.
 Though her heart shuddered away in her ears like a runaway horse, she stood perfectly still and met his eyes with an unwavering stare.
 Heat suddenly crept up her neck to her cheeks and the anger she’d held in for so many years at what she saw as Wyatt’s betrayal flooded to the surface.

She pushed aside all attraction, as she remembered how he abandoned her years ago.
“I was just about to search for Stocking.” Her words were short and crisp as knots twisted in her belly. “Where did you find her?”
Anger simmered beneath the surface of her words.

Wyatt expelled a breath, emphasizing the muscles clenched along his jawline. “I was out with my men rounding up the cattle, when we saw your mare having a bit of trouble. I headed over and helped her get unstuck from an overgrown bush she’d got herself caught in.”

He ran a practiced hand down her horse’s lame foreleg. “Stocking’s been limping a little. She has a few scars, but with some care she should be back to normal in a week or two.”
Abby’s eyes grew big with concern as she saw the dried blood on her mare’s leg. She bent down and looked closer at the gash. Her stomach knotted in worry for the one horse who had been with her since childhood.

“She’ll be okay Abby.” Wyatt whispered her name and a strong hand squeezed her shoulder gently. 
Tingles spread quickly from her shoulder to her whole body at his touch. A familiar ache rose in her belly and spread upwards to her heart.

Memories of Wyatt’s unwavering friendship, gentle embrace and passionate kisses flitted across her mind right at that moment and she jerked away as if scalded. 
She could feel a softening in her heart towards him as she remembered what they had. 
But she couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t let herself fall for him again.

Standing to her feet suddenly, she straightened her shoulders and cleared her throat. “I know she’ll be fine. I’ll see to it.” Abby tried her best to sound confident and cringed as her voice trembled.

Wyatt nodded with a taut jerk of his head. “I know you will, Abby. But I’ll be back to check on Stocking if it’s all the same to you.” He wasn’t asking, he was stating a fact. “Right now, your mare needs to be fed and brushed down and kept warm for the night.”
Wyatt took over and led her horse to the last remaining stall in the barn.

Irritation coiled like a snake tangling Abby’s belly and running up her arms. He had always been so confident, knowing what was best and taking action necessary to see it done. 
This was her horse. She should be the one making the decisions.
 Abby, stop it. Wyatt knows way more about how to heal your horse than you do. For once, just leave it be.

She watched as he led the horse into the stall. Abby was thankful she’d had the foresight to add fresh straw to this stall. This wasn’t the usual stall for Stocking, but it didn’t matter.
 Abby brought warm water and offered him the clean cloth.

Wyatt took the wet cloth and wiped her mare’s wounded leg. After it was clean, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a healing salve. She remembered he always carried different ointments and salves in case of animal injuries. It looked like he hadn’t changed.
 Abby ran her hand down Stocking’s neck to calm her while Wyatt cleaned and added salve to the wound.

She remembered he had always been good at helping animals heal. Most likely it was one of the big reasons he went to Veterinary College. It was what he was doing when she was still in High School. Back then, Wyatt had always taken the time to check out their horses and the fifty head of cattle her father had on their five hundred acres. 
Now he was back. 
It looked like she would be in Wyatt’s debt once again for taking care of her horse.

Wyatt stood to his feet and patted Stocking’s neck. “Stocking will be right as rain in no time, won’t you, old gal?” He turned and looked lazily at Abby through half-closed lids. “Your mare just needs a week or so to heal and then she’ll be ready to play and have fun like she did before.”

Abby heard the double meaning in his words. Heat rose to her cheeks. Yes, like her horse, she needed healing. But she wouldn’t be playing anytime soon, and certainly not with her handsome neighbor. 
Wyatt’s grey eyes clung to hers as if analyzing her reaction. 
“We’ll see.”

A momentary look of discomfort crossed her face.
 She couldn’t miss the promise as well as the unspoken pain that glowed in his grey eyes. 
Her breath caught for a moment, and she swallowed quickly.
 Abby’s eyes glued to his, she stood motionless as a wave of longing for the love they once had, hit her belly.
 As quick as lightning, she lowered her thick brown lashes. There was no way she was going to let Wyatt know she was vulnerable to him. Not this time.

Wyatt’s lips were tight with strain for a moment before a familiar mask of cool indifference descended once again. Several long strides took him quickly to the gate, and she raised her eyes. He turned to look at her, with one hand on the doorway of the stall.

The tensing of his jaw betrayed his frustration before he spoke. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
 He touched a finger to his cowboy hat and nodded once before he walked away.
 Abby warmed at the gesture, so reminiscent of the gentleman cowboy from her childhood.

She expelled a breath, frustrated for letting herself harbor any warm feelings for him at all. She reminded herself that those carefree, fun days were long gone.

It was too late for dreams of a true family. It was too late for them. It was too late for love.

She’d do well to remember that from here on out.

 

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