Page 6 of Wrangling a Texas Hometown Hero

“Because they were helping figure out how to save the ranch.”

“We still need help saving the ranch. While Corbin is good at running his investment business, he doesn’t know one end of a steer from the other. You, on the other hand, took all those ranching classes in college and have a good business head on your shoulders. You could help him learn how to make this ranch succeed.”

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Because this is your heritage, Hallie.”

She snorted. “It looks like that heritage now belongs to my sister’s husband.”

“Corbin is family now. What belongs to one family member belongs to us all.”

Hallie wished that was true. But she’d never been treated like she had a say in the ranch. Especially by her daddy. He had run the ranch into the ground with his arrogance and never once asked for help from his daughters. Hallie struggled to forgive him for that.

But Mimi had brought up some good points. Free room and board, along with the opportunity to get on Corbin’s good side so she could convince him to invest in her brewery, weren’t things she could overlook.

All of those benefits outweighed dealing with an ornery daddy.

Barely.

“Fine, Mimi. I’ll move back home—but only until Corbin finds a foreman to run the ranch.”

Mimi pulled her in for a hug. “I can’t ask for more than that. Now we better get back before Belle and Liberty realize we’re—” She glanced up and cut off abruptly. “Now I wonder what he’s doing up there.”

Hallie drew back and followed her grandmother’s gaze.

A tall muscular cowboy stood in the open hatch door of the hayloft. She couldn’t see his eyes beneath the brim of his Stetson, but she could feel their smoky-blue intensity.

Chapter Two

The last place Jace Carson wanted to be was at a wedding with the entire town of Wilder in attendance. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his hometown and the folks who lived there. Some of his happiest memories were of growing up in Wilder, and he had sincerely missed all the good-hearted people who wanted only the best for him. But sometimes people wanting the best for you was more a burden than a blessing.

At least, that’s how Jace felt.

Ever since he had started showing signs of becoming a football player, the townsfolk had talked about his future. At first, it had been simple comments to other people. “With an arm like that, little Jace will make one helluva quarterback someday.”

But gradually, as he got better and better, people started turning their comments into goals—his goals.

“If you keep working hard, Jace, you could very well make the varsity team your freshman year.”

“All you have to do is win this next game and we’ll be heading to the playoffs.”

“One state championship win was great and we’re sure proud of you, son . . . but if you want football scouts to start showing up, you need to win two.”

“Two state titles! Best quarterback in the state, that’s for damn sure . . . now all you have to do is get a scholarship to a top-ten college and you’ll be playing for the NFL before you know it.”

Jace couldn’t blame the townsfolk for wanting their hometown high school quarterback to become a star NFL quarterback. It had been his dream too. And if he had succeeded, it would have been one thing. He could have come home a hero.

But he wasn’t a hero.

He was just a washed-up Canadian football player with a major case of depression.

What made matters worse was the folks of Wilder still treated him like their hometown hero. They still gave him big hugs and thumps on the back and talked about every play he’d ever made in the high school championship games as if he was still the best quarterback in the state.

Which made him feel like even more of a failure.

The last time he’d been in town, he’d decided to never return to Wilder. The only reason he’d been there was to see if he could correct a mistake he’d made years before. He never thought in a million years he’d have to return because he’d made another mistake . . . and once again with a Holiday sister.

That mistake had sobered him up and made him realize what a downward spiral he’d been on. He was still depressed as hell, but he was no longer drowning his sorrows in a bottle.

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