Just the Man She Needed Read online

  “What kind of husband did you have that you’re so used to doing everything by yourself?”

  Always a private person, Emily bristled at Slade’s question. “That’s none of your business. Just because we’ll be sleeping under the same roof doesn’t mean you’ll be moving into my life.” The feelings jumping inside her—the fluttery excitement that made her breath hitch and her mouth dry—scared her.

  “Fair enough. We don’t poke into each other’s lives. Sounds good to me,” Slade said.

  Sighing, Emily sneaked a curious look at him. She hadn’t meant it exactly that way. Now maybe he wouldn’t tell her any more about himself.

  She remembered that she’d had the first good night’s sleep last night that she’d had in months. Was that because she knew Slade Coleburn was in her barn?

  When was the last time having a man around made her feel safe?

  Dear Reader,

  March roars in in grand style at Silhouette Romance, as we continue to celebrate twenty years of publishing the best in contemporary category romance fiction. And the new millennium boasts several new miniseries and promotions…such as ROYALLY WED, a three-book spinoff of the cross-line series that concluded last month in Special Edition Arlene James launches the new limited series with A Royal Masquerade, featuring a romance between would-be enemies, in which appearances are definitely deceiving….

  Susan Meier’s adorable BREWSTER BABY BOOM series concludes this month with Oh, Babies! The last Brewster bachelor had best beware—but the warning may be too late! Karen Rose Smith graces the lineup with the story of a very pregnant single mom who finds Just the Man She Needed in her lonesome cowboy boarder whose plans had never included staying. The delightful Terry Essig will touch your heart and tickle your funny bone with The Baby Magnet, in which a hunky single dad discovers his toddler is more of an attraction than him—till he meets a woman who proves his ultimate distraction.

  A confirmed bachelor finds himself the solution to the command: Callie, Get Your Groom as Julianna Morris unveils her new miniseries BRIDAL FEVER! And could love be What the Cowboy Prescribes…in Mary Starleigh’s charming debut Romance novel?

  Happy Reading!

  Mary-Theresa Hussey

  Senior Editor

  JUST THE MAN SHE NEEDED

  Karen Rose Smith

  To Kevin Sharp, whose music makes a difference in my life. Meeting you was an exciting gift.

  Books by Karen Rose Smith

  Silhouette Romance

  *Adam’s Vow #1075

  *Always Daddy #1102

  *Shane’s Bride #1128

  †Cowboy at the Wedding #1171

  †Most Eligible Dad #1174

  †A Groom and a Promise #1181

  The Dad Who Saved Christmas #1267

  ‡Wealth, Power and a Proper Wife #1320

  ‡Love, Honor and a Pregnant Bride #1326

  ‡Promises, Pumpkins and Prince Charming #1332

  The Night Before Baby #1348

  ‡Wishes, Waltzes and a Storybook Wedding #1407

  Just the Man She Needed #1434

  Silhouette Special Edition

  Abigail and Mistletoe #930

  The Sheriff’s Proposal#1074

  Previously published under the pseudonym Kari Sutherland

  Silhouette Romance

  Heartfire, Homefire #973

  Silhouette Special Edition

  Wish on the Moon #741

  KAREN ROSE SMITH

  lives in Pennsylvania with her husband of twenty-nine years. Wide-open spaces, horses and the mystique of cowboys inspire Karen Rose to write romances based on interludes spent on a farm as a child and basic values that last a lifetime. She believes in happily-ever-afters, and writing about them brings her great joy. A former teacher, she now writes romances full-time. She likes to hear from readers, and they can write to her at: P.O. Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  The mammoth, weathered barn with the floodlight on the peak of its roof beckoned to Slade Coleburn as snow swirled across his truck’s windshield, falling heavier by the minute. The snow wasn’t as much of a problem as his gas tank. He’d thought he’d have another chance to fill up. But the last stretch of road through western Montana had provided no opportunity for gas or food. He was now about an hour out of Billings and knew he wouldn’t make it. Letting himself get stranded on a deserted road in a snowstorm would be absolutely stupid. Slade knew well how to take precautions for survival. The only sensible thing to do was to find shelter for the night—even if it was in a barn—then someone who could fill his truck’s tank.

  Noticing the small weatherworn sign hanging from a chain on a post by the mailbox, he read, Double Blaze Ranch. The short access road led to a two-story house with a front porch. The house looked as old as the barn, and as Slade parked and mounted the wooden steps, he guessed both could use some repair. Something to bargain with if he had to. He knew a lot about bargaining, too.

  There was a doorbell, but it didn’t work. When he opened the screen that should have been replaced by a storm door before this mid-November snow, he rapped sharply on the door. In a few moments it opened, but only a crack.

  “Hi!” he began. “I’m going to run out of gas in another mile or so. I wondered if you had any to spare or an empty stall where I could bunk until morning.”

  “I don’t have any gas,” a soft, melodic woman’s voice said. “Sorry.”

  He still couldn’t see her, and he wondered if she was alone here. “Look, I know you probably have to be careful with strangers coming to your door, but if you want to get out a rolling pin and hold it over my head until I show you some ID, feel free.”

  The wind swept snow up onto the porch. It seemed like an hour until she finally opened the door a little farther. “Your ID’s not going to do me much good if you want to rob the place or harm us.”

  “Miss—” he began.

  “Mrs.,” she corrected him. “Emily Lawrence.”

  He almost smiled because her good manners made her introduce herself even if he was a thief. “Mrs. Lawrence, I have references in my jacket pocket. I’d be glad to show those to you.”

  Suddenly she opened the door wide. “If you wanted to harm us, you could have done it while I was standing here. C’mon in and get warm.”

  When Slade stepped over the threshold, he saw a beautiful young woman with shoulder-length, light brown hair and big brown eyes, who was very, very pregnant. “Now I see why you were so cautious.”

  As he took off his hat, he felt a tug on his parka’s sleeve.

  “Mom told me to be quiet and stay over in the corner.”

  Slade gazed down at a little boy who looked to be about seven. He had big brown eyes like his mom, but darker brown hair. Slade crouched down to the boy’s level. “She was trying to keep you safe.”

  “She made cookies tonight. Want some?”

  With a laugh, Slade straightened. “I won’t take advantage of your mom having pity on a stranger. Like I said, I just need an empty stall where I can bunk for the night.”

  Emily Lawrence’s hand lay protectively over her round belly as she glanced at her son and then back at Slade. She was wearing a denim jumper with a long-sleeved white sweater underneath. But the kitchen felt chilly, and he suspected that the fire in the woodstove over in the corner had burned down.

  Looking around, he saw that the
kitchen was clean, but the finish on the gray counter was chipped and the pine cupboards scratched and battered from years of use. From the looks of everything, along with his intuition that he’d honed to a high pitch ever since he’d had to fend for himself at the Cromwell Boys’ Home in Tucson, he’d bet she used the woodstove as supplemental heat to keep her bills down. “I can chop wood for you if you need it. Or even pay you for the night.”

  “I can’t take your money for letting you bunk in a stall.” She moved toward the counter and the cookie jar there. Even though she looked to be nine months pregnant, she moved gracefully. She was small and slender and he wondered how much of a burden carrying this baby was for her, and if she was married.

  “Is your husband away?” It was the only thing he could figure.

  After lifting the lid on the cookie jar, she studied him carefully for a moment. “I’m a widow.”

  Her answer surprised him. It had to have happened within the last year. Was she trying to run this place by herself? But though she’d answered his question, he didn’t think she’d volunteer any more information easily.

  Addressing her little boy, she motioned under the counter. “Mark, could you get the thermos out of the cupboard for me?”

  “Sure.” His smile was wide.

  As he brought it to her, she told him, “Now go on up and get your pajamas on. It’s time for bed.”

  “But, Mom…” He looked over at Slade.

  She ruffled his brown hair. “Mr—” She stopped.

  “Slade. Slade Coleburn.”

  “Mr. Coleburn is going to go out to the barn. There won’t be anything here for you to see or hear. Now go get your pj’s on.”

  With a resigned sigh that told Slade Mark usually obeyed his mother, the little boy went into the living room and then up the stairs.

  Emily Lawrence poured water from the teakettle into the thermos, then added a few teaspoons of instant coffee. “I only have instant.” Her tone was apologetic. “Would you like milk in this?”

  “You don’t have to give me anything,” he said.

  “When did you last eat?”

  “Around noon.”

  “Well, it’s almost nine. I have a few slices of beef if you’d like a sandwich to take along to the barn.”

  “That would be more than generous…and I take the coffee black.”

  Moving efficiently and quickly, she made him a sandwich and wrapped it in tinfoil. “Where are you headed?”

  “Billings…at least for now.”

  She looked him over, from the cowboy hat in his hand down his parka, jeans and boots. “On business?” she asked.

  He suspected she was still trying to make herself believe she hadn’t made a mistake by letting him inside. “I’m looking for someone. But I’m also looking for work. I can do almost anything that needs to be done.”

  After she capped the thermos, she wrapped a few cookies in foil, too, then stacked them on top of the sandwich. “If you’re hinting, I don’t have any money to pay you.”

  “Room and board can be pay enough.” When she didn’t respond, he decided he’d better not push it and stuffed the cookies and sandwich into his pockets. As she handed him the thermos, their fingers brushed and, for a moment, neither of them moved. She was pregnant and wary, and his blood had no business rushing faster.

  Her hand slid away from his. “Wait a minute, and I’ll find you a blanket or two.”

  He hardly had time to put his hat on his head when she was back with two wool blankets. “I really appreciate this,” he said as he took them from her. “You didn’t have to let me in. Why did you?”

  After a thoughtful pause, she answered him. “I prayed when I heard you coming, and I used my sixth sense to size you up. Then I prayed again. My heart told me to open the door to you, so that’s what I did.”

  Her answer wasn’t at all what he’d expected. This beautiful widow with child definitely unsettled him. Going to the door, he stopped before he opened it. “I’ll chop that wood for you in the morning.” Then he shook a finger at her. “And don’t open your door to any more strangers tonight.”

  When she smiled at him, Slade’s whole world seemed to tilt a little. But he convinced himself he was just tired from a long drive. As he descended the porch steps into the swirling snow and made his way to the barn, he wondered what hand of fate had brought him here…and why.

  Emily awakened before daylight the next morning, knowing something was different. Then she remembered. There was a man in her barn. A very tall man with dark brown hair, terrifically blue eyes, and a voice that smoothed through her like the brandy she’d once tried. The baby gave her a quick, hard kick and she smiled as she passed her hand over her belly. She’d had the first good night’s sleep last night that she’d had in months. Was that because she knew Slade Coleburn was in her barn?

  When was the last time having a man around made her feel safe?

  When your daddy was alive, a voice inside of her answered.

  The Double Blaze Ranch had been her father’s and his father’s before him. When she’d married Pete Lawrence, they’d moved in here with her dad. It wasn’t until a few months had passed that she’d realized Pete had married her because he’d wanted somebody to take care of him. He’d worked beside her father on the ranch, but he did the minimum and only when he had to. Fresh out of high school, missing her mother who had died a few years before, Emily had wanted to extend her family and give her dad the grandchildren he’d always wanted. But she’d chosen poorly.

  Thinking about her marriage to Pete still made her so sad.

  The baby kicked again and she told herself she had no time for sadness. She had to be as prepared as she could possibly be before this baby was born. If there were complications, or the ranch was too much to handle after the baby came, she might have to sell it. She’d have no choice.

  Never one to dawdle in bed in the morning, even during her pregnancies, she dressed in slacks and a roomy red top that she’d made herself and went into her little boy’s room. Stooping over him, she murmured into his ear, “I’m going out to the barn to talk to Mr. Coleburn. But I’ll be back shortly.”

  “I wanna come,” he mumbled sleepily.

  “Not right now. Try to sleep a little more until I come back in.” Then she kissed him and went downstairs.

  The coat that had seen her faithfully through the past six winters wouldn’t button over her belly. She’d be so glad when this baby was born. Three more weeks and she could see her feet again. After slipping on her boots, which were also a bit tight, she went outside and was instantly blinded by the sun shining on the fresh snow. Shading her eyes, Emily could see that her neighbor had plowed her road already. Everything looked pure, peaceful and white. She’d always felt that way about the ranch in the winter. Some ranchers dreaded it, and it did cause its problems, but she loved winter in Montana, even more than spring and summer and fall.

  Larch and aspen swayed with the weight of the snow as she carefully passed a storage shed with snow mounded on its roof and crossed to the barn. She was careful about everything now. The baby made her that way…and she couldn’t wait to welcome her son or daughter into the world.

  Opening the small door on the side of the barn, she went inside. She loved the scents of the barn as well as the sights of the ranch—hay, horses, damp earth, the smells of everyday life that you couldn’t find in town. Sunlight streamed in high dusty windows frosted with snow, creating beams and shadows, illuminating bits of hay and floats of dust. The snorting of a horse was all she heard until she became aware of a muffled sound outside at the far end of the barn. She knew exactly what that was.

  As she passed an empty stall, she noticed the two blankets she’d given Slade Coleburn folded neatly in the corner. She fed the horses, patted them affectionately and did a few chores, then carefully opened the gate into the corral and followed the snow-covered cement path to the side of the barn.

  Slade didn’t see her because he was too intent o
n splitting logs. But something must have alerted him to her presence because he stopped swinging and glanced over his shoulder. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning to you. I told you, you don’t owe me anything.”

  “And I heard you. But I take generosity seriously.”

  Neighbors had been kind after Pete died, but she wouldn’t accept charity. Looking at the log splitting as repayment protected her pride, and Slade Coleburn seemed intuitive enough to know it.

  Noticing her open coat, he commented, “You shouldn’t be out here. The temperature must be in the twenties.”

  “The animals have to be fed even when the temperature falls below zero.”

  His blue eyes held steadily to hers for a moment. “Do you intend to run this place yourself?”

  “Until I decide what I’m going to do. I might have to sell.” A real estate agent had been by a few months ago and had left his card.

  A deep grunt came from Slade, but he didn’t say anything more.

  “Would you like some breakfast?” she asked. “I’m sure Mark is up by now. He wanted to come out here with me to see what you were doing.”

  “How old is he?”

  “He’s seven going on ten.”

  Slade laughed. “I wouldn’t have minded, you know. He can watch if he wants.”

  Pete had preferred not having Mark around, said he was a bother, said he got in the way. “Have you been around children much?” she asked.

  “Not since I was a kid.” He didn’t explain further.

  A stiff breeze blew across the corral, whistling in the eaves of the barn. She rubbed her arms to keep herself warm. “So, should I set a place for you at breakfast?”

  “Sure, but I guess I’ll have to find something else to do for you if you do.”

  When she saw the amusement in his eyes, she smiled at the gentle teasing. How long had it been since a man had teased her? Pete wasn’t that kind.

  Before she thought too much about it or too kindly toward Slade, she headed back to the house.