Currently appearing in the pages of the brand-new edition of The Dead Mule:
Wednesday, November 20, 2024
Wednesday, October 30, 2024
The Cowboy's Prayer - Lamont Fortune
Shayne's stepdad, a mean man, dies after a drug overdose and his sole living relative, Mathilda Mannheim, is a fancy cake baker in New York City. She rushes to Oklahoma to take her nephew home but learns she can't. He's a ward of the state, which is Oklahoma. Although born in Texas, the citified gal and Lamont are like oil and water. As Lamont delves into the process to first be approved as a foster parent, then adopt Shayne, things are rocky but begin to improve.
He nicknames Matilda Tilly and in time, they find music in common. Here's an excerpt:
From habit, he popped a CD into the stereo, and Lamont's favorite classic country music filled the cab with sound. Hank William's plaintive voice crooned the old, sad ballads. The tires whined as the truck ate up the miles toward home, providing additional accompaniment. If he'd been alone, Lamont would have been belting out the songs, more familiar to him than nursery rhymes. He'd grown up with Hank, Johnny Horton, Marty Robbins, Webb Pierce, and Johnny Cash as a soundtrack for his life. His dad had loved this music and Lamont knew most of the lyrics by heart.
Until the kid joined in singing Kaw-Liga, he'd thought Shayne had fallen asleep. Tickled that the boy knew the old song about the wooden Indian who never went anywhere, he sang, too. The music raised Lamont's spirits, and happiness spread through him, lessening his fatigue.
Shayne chimed in on Say Hey Good Looking; although he missed more than a few notes, he made up for it with enthusiasm. When the mood shifted from bright to plaintive, Matilda sang along to it, too, her voice a rich alto that blended with the music and resonated with emotion.
The song was Lamont's least favorite, Cold, Cold Heart, because of Remy's accusations that he didn't care and wasn't capable of love, but when Matilda belted it out, his heart beat so fast he thought he might pass out at the wheel. She owned the song, he thought, and her voice infused it with power. If he had ever owned a heart of ice, it melted. Lines from the lyrics struck him with profound meaning. If anyone ever needed to free a doubtful mind, it was Lamont. He possessed a lonesome past, and he'd been hiding from life. He'd gone through the motions, nothing more. Shayne's appearance in his life had propelled him out of his inner cave back into the real world. Lamont, who hadn't shed a tear since his folks died, had a tear trickling and tickling down his cheek. Something broken within him began to heal as Lamont listened to Tilly sing along with Take These Chains From My Heart.
He had no idea if she realized how much her singing had impacted him, but she stopped after that. They were coming into Claremore by then, and once he mustered control of his emotions, he said, "You have an amazing voice, Tilly."
"Thanks. It's been a long time since I sang," she said.
"I don't imagine there was much demand for ol' Hank in New York City."
Matilda laughed. "There's probably more than you'd think, but not among the people I knew. I grew up on that music."
"So did I. Hank Williams was my grandpa's favorite singer, and my dad liked anything vintage country." Lamont couldn't help but grin.
Well, knock him winding, but he had something in common with this citified gal. Lamont never dreamed she'd be familiar with vintage country or like Hank's tunes. He'd known she could bake fancy confections, cakes that were works of art but it surprised him how she could sing like a country music queen.
The novel releases on Monday, November 4 in both eBook and paperback format. It's available for preorder now on Amazon, at World Castle Publishing, Barnes and Noble, and more more places.
https://www.amazon.com/Cowboys-Prayer-Lee-Sontheimer-Murphy-ebook/dp/B0DHMGDNTB
Or at World Castle:
The Cowboy's Prayer
Author: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy
Hardback ISBN: 9798339892236
Paperback ISBN: 9798891262782
eBook ISBN: 9798891262799
Genre: Romance/Western
Release Date 11/4/2024
Oklahoma saddle bronc champion Lamont Fortune lives a lonely life. He has family he doesn’t see very often and although once a man of faith, his has faded. He’s late getting out on the circuit this year but before he can put his spurs on for the season, his life changes when he takes in a neighbor’s stepson after a fatal overdose. When the boy’s aunt arrives from New York City, it’s complicated. Matilda Mannheim and Lamont bristle but when they learn Shayne can’t leave the state, Lamont is the only option. Lamont nicknames her ‘Tilly’ and both realize they misjudged the other. With many challenges looming, Tilly has the faith he lacks. As he takes tentative steps toward God, he resists prayer until everything changes. His chance to build a life with Shayne and Tilly depends on whether he can make the right choices and most of all, if he can manage a prayer.
You can listen to the audio book here:
https://play.google.com/store/audiobooks/details?id=AQAAAECyXjUelM
Saturday, October 26, 2024
Another chapter peek from The Cowboy's Last Chance
I shared Chapter One - how about Chapter 5? We're a little farther into the story and if one chapter wasn't enough to captivate your reading interest, let's try one more chapter.
This chapter goes deeper with their developing relationship, Calhoun's ties with his family, especially hi remaining brother Lincoln Kelly, Cal's bull riding life on the road, and Vivian's foundation back in Missouri.
Here's the blurb followed by the chapter and buy links:
Blurb:
When Vivian Blackburn, recently returned to Southwest Missouri after her grandmother suffered a health setback, sets out to shoot pictures at a rodeo, she's not looking for a cowboy but when she meets bull rider Calhoun Kelly, she's found one. They have an instant attraction and rapport, so much that she follows him on the rodeo circuit. When they can, they head back to Missouri to visit her grandmother. They're compatible in every way but one – he has a strong Christian faith and she lost hers after her parents died. Still, they stay together through his bull riding lumps and bumps on the rodeo circuit. When Vivian experiences strange dreams that seem to warn Calhoun of upcoming danger, she doesn't know what to think and when the messages spread through his family, everyone is concerned. Calhoun decides to hang up his spurs at the end of the season but before he does, he and Vivian are married. They decide they'll settle at her grandmother's old farmhouse but not until he rides his last rodeo. When he's critically injured, his life hangs in the balance. Will Vivian find her faith and pray or be widowed? It's a close call but time will tell.
Chapter Five
Calhoun sprawled backward, pillows propped behind his back, and called his brother. It rang twice before he picked up the phone.
“Same old, same old. Riding rodeo, like always.”
“First time I ever called you when a lady answered your phone,” Linc said. “And told me that you were worn out and sound asleep. She refused to wake you, man, but she told me you had a rough ride last night and wrecked. You all right?”
“Sore but fine, yeah.”
“She got me worried, little brother. I already told Sasha that if I didn’t hear from you today or if you didn’t sound right, I would head up that way.”
“Bro, I’m good.” Calhoun appreciated his brother’s concern, but he wanted to blow it off. He didn’t want Lincoln fussing over him. “Better than I’ve been in quite a while.” Although Linc laughed, Cal knew he hadn’t fooled his astute brother.
“I smell a rat, Cal. There’s more to this story. Either you’re hurt more than you’re letting me know or there’s something with this gal. Which is it?”
“Busted.” Calhoun laughed. He never could fool Linc for long. “I ain’t hurt bad or anything, but I landed on my shoulder last night so it’s sore as a bear. And I’m hurting like any bull rider but nothing serious.”
“I figured something like that. Is it the shoulder you dislocated over at Paducah? And the woman? I hope she’s not a buckle bunny.”
“You ought to know better than that.” Linc had to be aware how little Calhoun thought of the pushy women with their scanty clothing and desire to take a cowboy home for the night, nothing more. “Same shoulder but it’s not dislocated this time. It just hurts. And she’s the farthest thing from a bunny you could find, Linc. Her name’s Vivian Bradburn. She’s a writer and photographer from Missouri.”
“Is she pretty?”
“Very.”
“Is she there?”
“Yeah, she is.” Cal shot a glance at Vivian, standing before the mirror, brushing out her long hair and rolling it into a bun.
“Is she at your trailer?” After a pause, Lincoln questioned him further.
“No, we’re at her motel, but it’s not what you probably think. It’s at Rick’s place, the old Marine guy, you know? Her room has a spa tub and she offered me the chance to soak my sore body. Besides, there’s two beds. I didn’t plan to stay, but I fell asleep after being in the tub. But we kept it decent.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.”
Vivian walked over beside the bed with her hair neat and tidy. “Calhoun, the cold root beer you wanted is in the fridge. And I’ve got the arnica. If you want, I can rub some into your shoulder.”
He glanced up and smiled. She was so attractive. “I’d like that, Pretty Lady, soon as I get off the phone.”
“Is that a hint?” His brother chuckled.
“Might be.”
“Then I’ll let you go, but hey, are you still comin’ next week on the way to Fort Worth?”
“You bet but it might be a couple days later, might take a run up to Missouri first. Linc, do you still have room for a guest at your place?”
“I do. Does that mean…”
“Maybe,” Cal interrupted. “I’ll let you know for sure when I do. Take care, Linc.”
“I will and you do the same, you hear?”
Talking to Linc left him more than a little homesick, but he’d be there soon, long enough to enjoy the breezes beneath the tall pines and ride his horse. Calhoun shut his eyes for a moment, imagining his brother’s place.
Vivian put his root beer on the bedside table and tiptoed away.
“I’m not asleep.” He scooted over so she could sit on the bed if she wanted. “Linc said they have plenty of room, if you decide to go home with me to Texas.”
“I’m still thinking about it.” She stood in front of the window but turned to face him.
“Good. If you want to rub some of that cream on my shoulder, I’m game.”
“Is it still hurting?” Vivian settled onto the edge of the mattress.
“Some.” Calhoun shrugged, which shot pain through it. He pulled off his shirt for easy access and hid his smile when she ogled his chest.
Cal stayed buff because he had to be fit enough to compete. Behind all the mystique and excitement, bull riders were athletes, too. He also had a seven-inch scar down low on his left side.
Vivian traced it with her fingers. “What happened there?”
“Got gored when I was nineteen.” He kept his tone casual, but the injury had been serious when it happened.
“By a bull?” Her voice rose up the scale.
“Yeah.”
“You have a dangerous occupation.” She wore a frown.
“Oh, yeah, I do.” He couldn’t deny that. Conversation wasn’t easy as her fingers rubbed slow circles on his bad shoulder. Her touch was light enough it didn’t hurt as she rubbed the arnica cream into his flesh, but he was very aware of her touch. When she finished, she handed him his undershirt, so he pulled it over his head.
She washed her hands at the sink, then returned. “Do you want anything?”
“Ibuprofen, please,” he told her. “It’s to keep ahead of the hurting, honey. I feel decent right now. What time is it?”
“Twelve thirty.”
“That’s all?” He figured it must be three or after. “I’ll need to head over the arena to get ready by five at the latest. I hope the rain quits.” He could hear it, pattering against the window and falling over the parking lot.
“It’s really coming down,” she told him. “Makes me sleepy. I’ve always wanted to take a nap or sleep late when it’s raining, but I hardly ever get the chance.”
“We’ve got time. I’m a bit drowsy myself, Pretty Lady.” Cal resumed his earlier position.
“You’re tempting me.” Vivian yawned.
“Stretch out and get a few winks,” he advised. “I’ll set an alarm for four.” Calhoun hoped she might lie down beside him, although he knew she really shouldn’t. That would be more intimate than he’d be comfortable with at this point.
She removed her shoes and lay down on the other bed. Then she pulled up the comforter. “All right, you convinced me.” She removed the clip from the back of her hair and undid her ponytail.
For the first time, Calhoun saw her hair down, and he enjoyed the way it fell past her shoulders. He didn’t figure he would sleep, just watch Vivian as she did, but it wasn’t long before drowsiness claimed him. Cal dozed until the alarm he’d set on his phone blared. He’d changed both the alarm and ringtone on the first night he met Vivian to Hank Williams’ classic, “‘Say Hey Good-Lookin’.” Cal woke and turned it off.
But not before Vivian sat up. She shook back her long hair. “That’s your ringtone?”
“Yeah and my alarm, too.”
“Who’s it for?” she asked, lips puckered into a pout.
“For you, Pretty Lady,” Calhoun told her. “Only for you.”
“I like it, then.” Her smile returned, brighter than ever.
He watched as she rose, brushed her hair at the room’s vanity, and put it up again.
Then she went into the bathroom, changed tops, and picked up her purse. “I’m ready when you are.”
“Let’s roll, then. There’s no need to take two vehicles, is there?”
“Not if you want another soak in that tub later.”
Cal did and by the end of the night, he’d likely need it. “Yeah, if you’re offering, sure.”
At the rodeo grounds, rain drummed a rhythm on the roof of his trailer, and they dodged puddles as they raced to the door. Once there, Vivian settled onto the couch while he taped his joints, then changed into his rodeo outfit including spurs. The showers stopped as they emerged to head over to the arena, and the sun broke through the clouds. The air became hot and steamy.
En route, Cal stopped to find out his position and last night’s ranking. Despite the tumble he’d taken, his ride scored a total sixty-two, not bad. He would ride among the ten finalists, and this time, he would be last. If he could stay on the bull for eight seconds and not make any mistakes, he could win some decent money, maybe as high as a thousand bucks or a little more, depending on his final score.
As had become their habit in just a few days, they found seats on the bleachers. This time, they held hands as they watched and waited.
“What bull do you ride tonight?”
“Badlands Bruiser.”
Vivian frowned. “Do they all have names that sound mean and scary?”
“Pretty much.” He didn’t mention it was the same bull he had ridden the night he dislocated his shoulder in Kentucky. When it came time to head for the chutes, Calhoun touched her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Kiss me for luck.” He stood.
So did she.
Cal put his arms around her and kissed her, his mouth slow and sweet on hers. It grounded him, and when he sauntered off to ride, he wasn’t nervous at all.
Sometimes, his intuition warned the ride would go wrong, but tonight, he knew he’d ride well. Despite the wild antics and thrashing the bull delivered, Calhoun held his seat and maintained the right form. Most of the time, he tuned the announcer out, but he caught bits and pieces of the chatter as he lasted the full eight seconds. He landed on his feet, but he still had been splashed with mud. He returned to Vivian to hear his score for the night and cheered when he heard the final. Between his ride and Badlands Bruiser’s performance, he ended up with a rare ninety.
Vivian shrieked as she hugged him, smearing mud on her jeans.
But she didn’t seem to care. He took home third place, and they waited for the payout. After a change of clothes, they headed for the diner. The counter, tables, and most of the booths were full of rodeo people. Most waved a hand or called a greeting as they passed. More than once, Cal paused to shake hands or exchange a high five with another rider. Once seated, Calhoun ordered a rib-eye steak with a side of shrimp, fries, and Texas Toast. “If you want steak, honey, order one,” he told her. “If you can’t eat it all, I’ll help you.” When the food arrived, he tasted the steak and found it perfect, cooked medium to his taste. He ate all his and the last third of hers.
Although his muscles ached and his back hurt, he rode a happiness high. He’d come out with prize money, he hadn’t been hurt, and Vivian was with him. For this moment, life was grand, and he savored it.
“The rodeo’s over, so what happens now?” She finished her tea and rattled ice in the empty glass.
Cal shrugged, then winced because it made his sore shoulder twinge. “Sometimes, I stay the night and head out in the morning, or sometimes I go now. It depends on where I’m headed and how far. I generally stop for church along the way.”
“If you were coming to Missouri, when would you leave?” Vivian set her glass down and traced the water ring it left with one finger.
Hope surged through him. “Are you going home with me to Texas?”
“I thought I would, if you still want me to go, if we can visit Nanna first.” She raised her head and offered him a sweet smile.
Thank you, Lord. Joy filled his heart and he grinned. “You know I do, Pretty Lady, and we will. It’s late, so we’ll head out tomorrow morning.” Now that they had a plan, he returned to his tin can, so he could grab a few hours of sleep, then secure everything for the road.
Vivian promised she would check out early and come over to the arena.
Then they would set out in a caravan. Vivian would lead the way, and he would follow. Since he would be pulling the trailer, they would take the interstate.
On Sunday, Calhoun called his brother again. “Good morning,” he said when Lincoln answered.
“What’s shaking? I hope you didn’t call to tell me you got banged up and are in some hospital.”
“Nah, not this time,” Cal said. “We’ll be there probably Tuesday or Wednesday, and I am bringing Vivian so get a room ready. That’s why I called, to let you know.” He could imagine Linc’s face, eyes wide and mouth hung open.
“That’s the gal you were with at the motel?”
“The very one.”
“And you’re bringing her home?”
“Yeah, I am.” Calhoun tried to keep his tone casual but he wanted to whoop out loud, maybe even dance a little jig. He didn’t think he could stand to part company with Vivian and now he wouldn’t have to say good-bye.
“You haven’t had a girlfriend in so long. I’m surprised but I’m glad. Is this a serious relationship?”
Asked point blank, Cal took a moment to answer but told the truth. “I hope so,” he told his brother. “I want it to be, and I’m hoping she feels the same. I’m crazy about her.”
“The very fact you’re bringing her down here says a lot. What happens after that?”
“I don’t know,” Calhoun admitted. “Guess we’ll find out.”
Lincoln laughed. “I reckon you will. All right, see you when you get here. If it’s gonna be past Wednesday let me know, okay? I’ll smoke a brisket, and we’ll get a room ready for your lady. Take care, Cal.”
“I will. Thanks, bro.”
“De nada.”
He had dosed up with ibuprofen before Vivian arrived at his tin can, bringing fast-food biscuits, and coffee. “Good morning, Pretty Lady,” he told her. “Thanks.” The rich sausage aroma piqued his appetite.
“I figured you might be hungry,” Vivian replied. “Good morning, Calhoun.”
The biscuits filled his belly as they sat at his trailer’s tiny table. He noticed she wore the boots he’d bought her so she must like them. Vivian had tucked her jeans into the boots, and she wore a tunic style floral print blouse. He caught a whiff of her perfume, something sweet that reminded him of roses. Her long, beautiful hair was pulled back into the usual tight bun. I need to get this gal a decent hat and maybe some Western shirts. “How long will it take to get to your place in Missouri?”
“Two hours, maybe a little more on the interstate,” Vivian stated. “I figured when we get to the farmhouse, you can pull the trailer around back between Nanna’s house and the barn. We’ll settle, then head over to the facility to see Nanna. Sometimes, I eat dinner with her on Sunday, but if you’d rather not, we can grab a bite somewhere else.”
Cal had never eaten in a nursing home and seldom visited one. “Sure. We can eat with your grandma. I hoped we might find a church somewhere along the way.”
“Do we have to?” Her expression went sour, and her lips flipped to a frown.
“I’d like to. I haven’t missed church in years, even being on the road so much.”
“If you can wait until evening, I’ll go with you to the little church I used to attend. They have an evening service at six.”
He suspected agreeing to go to church was huge so he nodded. “Sure, that’ll work.”
“I’ll make supper for you afterward.”
“Can you cook?” Calhoun wondered as she rewarded him with a sweet smile that brightened her pretty face.
“Yes, although just for me, I often don’t. What’s your favorite home-cooked meal?”
“Pot roast with noodles, fried chicken, and biscuits, or pan-fried pork chops. Unless I eat with Linc’s family, I seldom have a homemade meal.”
“You’ll have one tonight.”
As soon as he got the trailer hitched to the truck, they set out, winding through town to US Highway 412 which would link them to I-49 at Springdale. Vivian took the lead and he followed. At the early Sunday hour, traffic was light, and he had no trouble keeping up. Once on I-49, they zipped through the metropolitan cluster of towns in Northwest Arkansas and crossed the state line into Missouri. Calhoun followed her when she exited the highway near Neosho and wound beneath it to a country road.
She drove down it and turned into a long driveway beside a two-story frame farmhouse, following it to the barn where she parked. Calhoun pulled his trailer beside her without blocking the barn doors and stopped.
Although it was obvious, she waved as she got out of the car. “We’re here.”
He climbed out of the truck, his back aching and knees twinging. “Nice place.”
Although the adjacent fields held knee-high weeds and not cattle or horses, the pastures stretched green and vibrant in several directions. The big white house boasted a front porch with a swing and the barn, apparently empty, appeared solid. It demonstrated the potential to be a working farm again.
“It’s where Nanna and Papa lived,” Vivian explained. “I grew up coming here to visit. I spent every weekend I could and more time in the summer. I’ve been staying here since I came back from Kansas City. It will be mine, I guess, when Nanna’s gone. She did a beneficiary deed that will go into effect then. None of my cousins wanted it. They either live somewhere else or have their own spreads.”
Calhoun could hear the whine of steel-belted radials on the interstate, but otherwise, it was a quiet place. Honeysuckle bloomed somewhere, and the fragrance filled his nose, bringing a rush of memories. The vine had bloomed in Granny’s back yard. To him, it was a lovely oasis and would make a great place to retreat to when he could.
“Will you live here, then?”
“I have been now, and I’d like to,” she replied. “Maybe. If I stay here, either the freelancing has to pan out, or I’ll need to get a job. Come on inside.”
They entered through a back porch which led into a mud room, then into a kitchen.
At the end of the kitchen, she pointed out a bathroom.
Cal followed her through a dining room, with a bedroom to one side, then into a spacious living room. In addition to a couch, two easy chairs, an older television, lamps, and end tables, he noticed a spinet piano beneath the open staircase. The steps began next to the front door and led up three to a landing, then turned upward. Near the top, they curved again.
Vivian mounted the stairs.
So, he trailed behind. A narrow hall held four bedrooms and a bathroom at the end.
“The front bedroom was Nanna’s until she couldn’t manage the stairs.” Vivian opened the door to a pleasant bedroom overlooking the front yard. “Do you sleep here?” Calhoun ran one hand along intricate woodwork on the stair railing as he ascended.
Vivian shook her head and moved to the next. “I sleep in this one, but you can take your pick between the others. I’ll put fresh sheets on the bed.”
Although he liked the homey feel of this house, he shook his head. “I figured I’d bunk in the trailer. I don’t want to be any trouble.”
Vivian turned to him. “You’re no trouble at all, Cowboy. I wouldn’t invite you to stay if I minded. I’ll be staying with your brother I’ve never even met, so you can sleep inside. Take the blue room across the hall.”
Calhoun peeked inside and surveyed what she called the blue room. The walls were a light, bright cobalt-blue. Navy and white floral curtains framed the single window. Both rugs on the floor were shades of blue. The metal frame double bed had been painted an antique white and so had the cedar chest at the foot. “All right,” he told her. “I’ll go get my gear. Out of curiosity, what color is your room?”
“Pink.” Vivian tossed her head and her ponytail bounced. “I liked pink as a little girl. And the other one is the yellow room. The bathroom’s done in shades of green. The front bedroom was Nanna’s with a peach color scheme. Nanna always wanted to try her hand at interior decorating, so after Papa retired, they redid the rooms. I need to bring up my bags, too.”
“I’ll get them for you. Any chance there might be coffee?”
“I’ll make some. How’s your shoulder?”
Cal put his right hand on it. “Not bad. My back’s hurting a bit, though but that’s every day. It’s part of a bull rider’s life.”
“Take something for it. I’ll make coffee.”
They drank it on the front porch, sitting in the swing. Calhoun moved the truck and trailer, then unhooked it so he could drive his vehicle. When he finished his cup, he put it down and took her hand. “I like it here. Someday, after I hang up my spurs, I hope to buy a place something like this.”
Vivian shook her head and frowned. “Don’t you want a place in Texas?”
“I just want my own.” He rocked the swing with one foot and sighed. “It could be in Texas or here or anywhere. I’ve always wanted my own spread.”
“Will you raise rough stock?” Vivian caught hold of the chain that held up the porch swing as if she didn’t care for the motion.
Calhoun considered the question. “Not likely. Beef cattle, I reckon and maybe a few horses.”
“Like your paint, Johnny.”
She remembered his horse’s name, which pleased him. “Yeah, probably.”
“How old are you, Calhoun? If you’re talking about retiring, I wondered.”
“Thirty-three,” he told her. “I might look older, but cowboys retire young if they don’t get crippled or killed. I figure I might have two or three good years left, at most. Maybe less, maybe more, so I think about it.” Her fingers wrapped tight around his hand.
“You don’t look old, Calhoun. You’re a good-looking man. I might’ve guessed thirty. Before you ask, I’m twenty-eight.”
Five years younger, he counted. “I would have guessed younger, honey. What comes next?” As soon as he asked the question, he wondered if he meant today or down the road because he wondered about both.
“I suppose we’ll head over to the Sunny Morning Senior Citizens Home before long. I talked to Nanna this morning, so she’s expecting us. I’m changing clothes before we do, though.”
“That works. I can drink another cup of coffee while you get ready.” He would also go choose a better shirt and his best black jeans. He wanted to make a good first impression on her grandmother.
Also available beginning October 21 through Walmart, Target, Books A Million, Indi Bound, Kobo, and I-tunes. Pre-order links:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DCZWNZCQ/
https://wildrosepress.com/product/the-cowboys-last-chance/
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-cowboys-last-chance-lee-ann-sontheimer-murphy/1146105247
https://www.thriftbooks.com/w/the-cowboys-last-chance_lee-ann-sontheimer-murphy/53633296/
https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Cowboy_s_Last_Chance/H3Hc0AEACAAJ
https://allauthor.com/book/90806/the-cowboys-last-chance/
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DCZWNZCQ/
https://wildrosepress.com/product/the-cowboys-last-chance/
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-cowboys-last-chance-lee-ann-sontheimer-murphy/1146105247
Cal's cake his nephews picked out:
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