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Mitchell Reeves is in trouble. Someone is sabotaging his ranch, cattle are missing, his sister is testing her wings, and his quarrel with a neighboring rancher has heated to boiling. Adding a beautiful woman who claims to be from the future couldn't come at a worse time.
Computer programmer Rachel Morgan understands machines, but fails with the opposite sex. When a dog plays chicken with her car, her bad week becomes worse when she wakes to find herself in the past—in a very hunky, very delusional cowboy’s bed.
Time spent in Mitchell’s company causes an unexpected glitch in Rachel’s determination to get home. Love. Found in the most startling place and time. Could she go home, if she had the chance, without knowing his true feelings?
When unwanted attention from another man turns to kidnapping, Rachel is torn between wishing she were home… and risking it all for the love of a cowboy.
Page Count: 292
Word Count: 71820
Holy Moly! Rachel paused at the view. Mitchell stood shirtless at the water pump. Her mouth dried up faster than a drop of water in the Sahara Desert. She watched him splash his face and chest. His muscles glistened as the drops of water made a trail down his lean, sculptured body. This cowboy was hotter than any fireman calendar she’d ever seen.
She pinched herself. Nope. Wide awake. She fanned herself and cleared her parched throat. “Supper is hot,” she stammered. “I mean supper is ready.”
Mitchell’s startled gaze settled on her. “I’ll be in. I’m almost finished.”
Rachel swung around and shut the door with a soft click. Leaning heavily against the hard wood, she closed her eyes and blocked out the vision of Mitchell without his shirt.
“Are you feeling faint? Come over here and sit down, Rachel. I would hate for you to overdo the first time you’ve been out of bed.” Becky held out a chair for her at the kitchen table.
Sinking down, Rachel fiddled briefly with the fork beside the plate before placing her hands in her lap. Seconds later, she heard the back door open.
She drew in a deep calming breath as Mitchell took the chair to her right. With a glance from under her eyelashes, she took in his damp face and hair.
Becky sat across from her and held her hands out to Rachel and Mitchell. “Mitchell, would you say a word of grace, please?”
Grasping both hands, Rachel lowered her head. Mitchell’s deep voice resonated with each word he spoke, but she didn’t hear a single one. What was wrong with her? A bonk on the head and she’s practically swooning over a hunky cowboy. This wasn’t like her. Snap. Out. Of. It.
“I went and looked for your horse today.”
Rachel’s started gaze flew to meet Mitchell’s amber stare. What was he saying?
“I wasn’t able to find any tracks. I’m sorry, but your Mustang is probably long gone.”
Oh. He was talking about her car. She took a roll from the breadbasket. “That’s disappointing news. I was quite fond of my, um, horse. It had been a present from my parents.”
Her parents. They must be worried sick about her. Was she dreaming? Or was she in a coma back in her time? Surely, what she was experiencing wasn’t real. Someone was going to pop out at any moment and yell “Gotcha!”
Becky passed a bowl of potatoes. “Are your parents living?”
What do you say to a question like that? “Yes, it’s just they seem so far away.” Literally. Was it even feasible for her to believe she traveled back in time?
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