That Burke Man

That Burke Man
Diana Palmer

Problem: Saving Jane Parker's RanchBigger Problem: Jane ParkerOnce-burned Todd Burke had no intention of getting hitched to anyone. Having one temperamental female under his roof was enough. Still, his rodeo-riding daughter was crazy about Jane Parker–and secretly, Todd was, too.But no way was this hot-tempered, hot-blooded Wyoming man giving in to the equally hot-tempered, hot-blooded cowgirl from Jacobsville, Texas. Until one night changed everything…

Dear Reader,

I really can’t express how flattered I am and also how grateful I am to Harlequin Books for releasing this collection of my published works. It came as a great surprise. I never think of myself as writing books that are collectible. In fact, there are days when I forget that writing is work at all. What I do for a living is so much fun that it never seems like a job. And since I reside in a small community, and my daily life is confined to such mundane things as feeding the wild birds and looking after my herb patch in the backyard, I feel rather unconnected from what many would think of as a glamorous profession.

But when I read my email, or when I get letters from readers, or when I go on signing trips to bookstores to meet all of you, I feel truly blessed. Over the past thirty years I have made lasting friendships with many of you. And quite frankly, most of you are like part of my family. You can’t imagine how much you enrich my life. Thank you so much.

I also need to extend thanks to my family (my husband, James, son, Blayne, daughter-in-law, Christina, and granddaughter, Selena Marie), to my best friend, Ann, to my readers, booksellers and the wonderful people at Harlequin Books—from my editor of many years, Tara, to all the other fine and talented people who make up our publishing house. Thanks to all of you for making this job and my private life so worth living.

Thank you for this tribute, Harlequin, and for putting up with me for thirty long years! Love to all of you.

Diana Palmer

DIANA PALMER

The prolific author of more than a hundred books, Diana Palmer got her start as a newspaper reporter. A multi–New York Times bestselling author and one of the top ten romance writers in America, she has a gift for telling the most sensual tales with charm and humor. Diana lives with her family in Cornelia, Georgia.

Visit her website at www.DianaPalmer.com.

That Burke Man

Diana Palmer

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter One

Todd Burke sank lower in the rickety chair at the steel rail of the rodeo arena, glowering around him from under the brim of his Stetson. He crossed one powerful blue-jeaned leg over the other and surveyed his dusty, cream-colored boots. He’d worn his dress ones for the occasion, but he’d forgotten how messy things got around livestock. It had been a long time since he’d worked on his father’s ranch, and several months since Cherry’s last rodeo.

The girl had a good seat for riding, but she had no self-confidence. His ex-wife didn’t approve of Cherry’s sudden passion for barrel racing. But he did. Cherry was all he had to show for eight years of marriage that had ended six years ago in a messy divorce. He had custody of Cherry because Marie and her new husband were too occupied with business to raise a child. Cherry was fourteen now, and a handful at times. Todd had his own worries, with a huge computer company to run and no free time. He should make more time for Cherry, but he couldn’t turn over the reins of his company to subordinates. He was president and it was his job to run things.

But he was bored. The challenges were all behind him. He’d made his millions and now he was stagnating for lack of something to occupy his quick, analytical mind. He was taking a few weeks off, reluctantly, to get a new perspective on life and business during Cherry’s school holidays. But he was tired of it already.

He hated sitting here while he waited for Cherry’s turn to race. He and Cherry had moved to Victoria, Texas, just recently, where his new head offices were located. Jacobsville, the little town they were now in, attending the rodeo, was a nice, short drive from Victoria, and Cherry had pleaded to come, because a barrel-racing rodeo champion she idolized was supposed to accept an award of some sort here tonight. Cherry’s entry in the competition had been perfunctory and resigned, because she didn’t ride well before an audience and she knew it.

Her name was called and he sat up, watching his daughter lean over her horse’s neck as she raced out into the arena, her pigtail flying from under her wide-brimmed hat. She looked like him, with gray eyes and fair hair. She was going to be tall, too, and she was a good rider. But when she took the first turn she hesitated and the horse slowed almost to a crawl. The announcer made a sympathetic sound, and then she did it again on the next turn.

Todd watched her ride out of the arena as her part in the competition was finished. He had a heavy heart. She’d been so hopeful, but as always, she was going to finish last.

“What a shame,” came a quiet, feminine voice from down the aisle. “She just freezes on the turns, did you see? She’ll never be any good as a competitor, I’m afraid. No nerve.”

A male voice made a commiserating comment.

Todd, infuriated by the superiority in that female voice, waited for its owner to come into view with anger building inside him. When she did, it was a surprise.

The tall beautiful blonde who’d said those things about Cherry Burke was just complimenting herself on her steady progress. For the first time in months, Jane Parker was managing without her wheelchair or her cane. Moreover, her usual betraying limp hadn’t made an appearance. Of course, she was fresh because she’d rested all day, and she hadn’t strained her back. She’d been very careful not to, so that she could get through the opening ceremonies of the annual Jacobsville Rodeo and wait until its end when she was going to accept a plaque on behalf of her father. Tim had raged at her for agreeing to ride today, but it hadn’t done any good. After all, she was her father’s daughter. Her pride wouldn’t let her ride out into the arena in a buckboard.

She stopped along the way to watch the youth competition in barrel racing. That had been her event, and she’d won trophies for it in this and other rodeos around Texas since grammar school. One particular girl caught her eye, and she commented critically on the ride—a poor one—to one of the seasoned riders leaning on the iron arena rail beside her. It was a pity that the girl hadn’t finished in the money, but not surprising.

The girl was afraid of the turns and it showed in the way she choked up on the reins and hindered the horse. Jane commented on it to the cowboy. The girl must be new to rodeo, Jane thought, because her name wasn’t one she knew. Here in south Texas, where she’d lived all her life, Jane knew everyone on the rodeo circuit.

She smiled at the cowboy and moved on, shaking her head. She wasn’t really watching where she was going. She was trying to straighten the fringe on her rhinestone-studded white fringe jacket—which matched her long riding skirt and boots—when a big, booted foot shot across the narrow space between the trailers and slammed into the bottom metal rail of the rodeo arena, effectively freezing the elegant glittery blonde in her tracks.

Shocked, she looked down into steely gray eyes in a lean face framed by thick, fair hair.

The cowboy sitting on the trailer hitch was braiding several pieces of rawhide in his strong fingers. They didn’t still, even when he spoke.

“I heard what you just said to that cowboy about Cherry Burke’s ride,” he said coldly. “Who the hell do you think you are to criticize a cowgirl in Cherry’s class?”

She lifted both eyebrows. He wasn’t a regular on the Texas circuit, either. She and her father had circled it for years. “I beg your pardon?”

“What are you, anyway, a model?” he chided. “You look like one of those blonde dress-up fashion dolls in that outfit,” he added as his eyes punctuated the contempt of his voice. “Are you shacking up with one of the riders or are you part of the entertainment?”

She hadn’t expected a verbal attack from a total stranger. She stared at him, too surprised to react.

“Are questions of more than one syllable too hard for you?” he persisted.

That got through the surprise. Her blue eyes glittered at him. “Funny, I’d have said they’re the only kind you’re capable of asking,” she said in her soft, cultured voice. She looked at his leg, still blocking her path. “Move it or I’ll break it, cowboy.”

“A cream puff like you?” he scoffed.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m no cream puff.” In his position on the hitch, he was precariously balanced. She reached over, grimacing because the movement hurt her back, caught his ankle and jerked it up. He went over backward with a harsh curse.

She dusted off her hands and kept walking, aware of a wide grin from two cowboys she passed on her way to the gate.